The Naughty Angel Returns (Naughty Angels In Love) (6 page)

He opened her door, and she spilled into his arms. He listened to her let out a gasp as her sexy curves pressed against him, and felt it all the way to his aching cock. Going around with a semi-hard-on was the price he paid for keeping her near, he reasoned with a wry smile. He gave in to temptation and held her tighter for a moment, reveling in the sensation of her soft curves pressed against him. She seemed to be just as quickly aroused and pressed her mound against the hard ridge of his cock, driving them both nuts. After a moment of bliss, he came to his senses and set her back on her feet. Fun and games could wait until later. Now he had a lover to protect and a killer to apprehend. “Come on. Let's do this, so I can get you home,” he said.

She sighed and turned toward the building.

He reached out to keep her from moving out of range, so that she could stand protected and not get in the way of his gun arm. He was packing, and he had a permit to carry the concealed weapon.

“Aren't you taking the protective bit a little far?” she teased, looking pointedly at his hand on her arm.

“Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances with you,” he said, stepping out with her. “Just listen to me, and I won't have to paddle your sweet ass.”

She grinned. “But what if I want you to? As a matter of fact, there's a whole list of things I'd like to try.”

“Lord, I think I've created a monster,” he teased. “Make your list, sugar, and I'll do my best to live up to it.” Hell, he wanted the same things she did. She was going to wear him out, and he was going to love every minute of it. “Later,” he said, giving her a bold look that made her blush. He watched the rosy color drift down into her cleavage and smiled. He knew that she blushed all over. He couldn't wait to make it happen again. But he had to put his mind back on the mission.

“Come on,” he said, escorting her toward the back of the FBI field agents' office. He nodded at the guard on duty, Milo Forest. Crispin was such a fixture around the place, working on the Scarlet A story, that they didn't even hassle him anymore. It was a good thing in this case, because after giving Haley a curious look, Milo waved them through. When they walked in the back door and into the corridor, he surveyed the crowd and relaxed a bit when he didn't pick up on any troublemakers.

He didn't believe in the second sight his aunt said he had, but he did have good reflexes, and they'd served him well on the battlefront before. He glanced down at Haley, feeling her go tense beside him. “See anything that sets your spidey senses off?” he asked, humoring her.

She shook her head and let out a relieved breath. “No.”

“Good,” he said, feeling just as relieved. When she took a step toward the front desk and his hand on her arm stopped her, it puzzled her.

She gazed up at him questioningly. “Why'd you stop me?”

“I thought you wanted to keep this off the books,” he said, gazing down at her, trying to read her. Until he had good reason not to, he'd let her call the shots. If she wanted all the FBI bells and whistles, she could have them.

She gave him a half smile. “You meant it. I thought you just said that to humor me and get my butt down here.”

“I'll never lie to you, sweetheart.” Her bright smile touched him deep inside, but he knew he had to be tough. “This way,” he said, leading her to a back office. He saw Special Agent Harry Holmes at his desk, doing paperwork. As usual the rogue agent was doing grunt work, probably because he'd managed to piss off a superior. He knocked on the doorway, and Harry looked up. He met Harry's coolly, assessing gray eyes.

Harry's brow arched when he gazed at Haley, his gaze lingering on the faint bruises around her throat. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Harry, meet Haley Aims,” he said in confirmation as he ushered Haley inside and closed the door. He felt Haley's frown at the admission and tried to give her a reassuring smile. She was no doubt questioning his “I'll never lie to you” line, but he'd worry about it later. “Have a seat, sweetheart,” he said, pressing her toward a chair.

She went with a grumble. “You'd better be right about this, stud, or I'll take it out of your hide.”

He smiled as her spunk returned. He knew that Harry could be trusted. “We need to keep this on the QT.”

“That's my specialty,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair. He speared Haley with a probing look. “Is that what you want, Ms. Aims?”

“Call me Haley,” she said with a smile. “If Crispin says you can help me and keep it quiet, I'll believe him.”

Harry looked at Crispin. “You can wait outside.”

Crispin hesitated, not wanting to leave her.

Haley shook her head. “No. I want him to stay.”

“You'll be safe alone with me…” Harry started to say.

“I know that, Harry. But I'll feel better if I keep Crispin with me where I can keep my eye on him. Is that okay?”

“Fine,” he said, giving Crispin a questioning look when he sat down in a chair.

“I'll keep quiet,” Crispin said, understanding Harry's confusion. It surprised him too that she evidently thought she had to look after him. All he could do was shrug.

Harry gave him a frown, then turned his attention on Haley. “Tell me about last night, Haley.”

Haley let out a sigh and looked down at the floor, avoiding the agent's gaze. “I don't know how specific I can be. It was dark, and I couldn't see his face very well.”

“Do your best,” Harry said.

She nodded, her gaze flicking back up to him. “I was in my dressing room, or should I say my
undressing
room,” she said wryly, getting Haley Aim's memories. “I was getting ready to shoot a
Playmate
centerfold. I took a drink of my diet cola and started to feel dizzy. Then this nut caught me by surprise, put me in a choke hold, and pulled me out of the tent and into a clearing. I blacked out and came to, and he was crushing me into the wet ground with his scratchy polyester pants unzipped. He muttered, 'Die, whore, die,' over and over in a monotone, and he smelled like an old, stinky ashtray.” She sucked in a shaky breath, adding, “And he's got spooky, crazy brown eyes, and a scar on his left cheek.”

“How'd you get away?” Harry asked.

“Pure unadulterated rage,” she said with a sigh. “That, and the realization that I couldn't let the crazy, murdering bastard get away with it again made me fight with everything I had.” She shuddered.

“Thank God,” Crispin said and started to reach out for her. She was shaking, and he wanted to comfort her, but Harry shook his head, making Crispin hesitate. He glared at his friend and waited.

“Get away with it again?” Harry asked Haley.

Crispin shrugged. “She thinks it's the same perp.”

“I asked her, not you,” Harry said, then turned to give Haley a questioning look.

Her chin rose as she drew herself up. “I don't just think it. I know it.”

“How so?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was psychic?” she asked with a smirk.

Crispin tensed as he felt her stress escalate and glared at Harry.

Harry ignored him. “No,” he said succinctly. “Crispin knows how I feel about all that hocus-pocus crap.”

“Right,” she said, giving them both a frustrated look. “Fine, put it down to what he said then and how he behaved. He's the same man. I just can't tell you his name.”

“Anything else?” Harry asked eyeing her speculatively.

She smiled. “I racked him hard, and he let me go. He seemed surprised that I had come to and was fighting back, actually. Then the camera crew came running, and he slunk away like the skunk he is, saying he'd be back to kill me.”

“So he thinks women want him, can't perform, wears polyester, is a heavy smoker, and has a scar on his face,” Harry said, ticking off her clues succinctly. Then he smiled at her. “Not bad for not being able to remember anything.”

Haley bit her lip. “Thanks. I think.”

“Oh it's a compliment, ma'am. Most eyewitnesses can't remember things. Sit tight, and I'll have the sketch artist come in and work up a likeness,” he said, standing up. He motioned for Crispin to follow him. “Let's give them a little privacy to work.”

Haley shot to her feet, her eyes widening as they went to Crispin. “You won't go far?”

He felt her fear like a kick to the gut and knew he was responsible. Had he known she was listening when he dictated his notes, he would have chosen his words more carefully. Most modern-day journalists lived by the computer, but he preferred some old-fashioned methods like the tape recorder, and he was paying for it now.

“I won't go far,” he said, ignoring Harry's amused look to step up to her and pull her into his arms. He whispered into her ear, “Forget about what you heard this afternoon. You're not getting away from me.” When he pulled back, she was smiling at him.

“Come on, Romeo,” Harry said, opening the door. He smiled at Haley. “Don't worry, I'll look after him.”

Crispin gave her hand and squeeze and followed him into the back room, feeling that Haley was worried about him, but why? It brought up a lot of other questions, like what else wasn't she telling them? Once they walked out of earshot, Harry turned to pin him with a firm glance.

“What's she hiding, pal?”

That was Harry—he always got to the point. He frowned back at his friend, annoyed because it echoed his own thoughts, but he found himself rising to her defense. “Who says she's hiding anything?”

“My gut,” Harry grumbled, pouring a cup of coffee.

Hell, his own gut told him the same thing. He and Harry shared a look, and he shook his head when Harry offered him a cup of muddy coffee.

Harry frowned. “She seems pretty damned certain that this isn't a copycat.”

Crispin nodded, agreeing with him. “She is, and I'm starting to agree with her. Face facts. The Feds screwed up last time around.”

“Don't tell me you're starting to believe that psychic shit too,” Harry said with a raised brow.

Crispin let out a deep breath, trying to put his mixed feelings into focus. “Let's say I've moved to nonjudgmental.”

“Who says I'm judgmental?” Harry asked with a frown.

“You and I both have been known to go with our guts. She has a feeling. Same difference,” Crispin said refusing to back down.

Harry let that pass and shook his head. “What the hell did you think you were doing springing her from the hospital? She would have had protection there.”

Crispin tensed. “Shit, is that what the Chicago PD said?”

“Close enough.”

“She wanted me to take her with me and thought the killer would come back to get her. I put it down to hysteria and walked away, but didn't get far. Something she said brought me back to her. I went back to talk to her, she was gone. The nurse found her IV pole in the back stairway. She pulled it out herself and took off.”

Harry winced. “That took a lot of guts. Something must have scared her plenty.”

“She thought he was coming for her, said she felt him and saw him.”

“Felt him?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Crispin's gut twisted when he thought about how close he'd come to losing her. “Anyhow, she got the hell out of there. After I talked to the cop, I took off looking for her. I found her in the parking lot just as some big black SUV driving with its lights off tried to run her down.”

“So it wasn't just her imagination,” Harry said.

Crispin nodded. “There is one other possibility. She fired her manager while I was in her hospital room, and he was pissed. I think one of them tried to run her down.”

“And you took her home to keep her safe.”

He shrugged. They'd done a lot more than that, and Harry knew it. “It's personal. She's mine, and I'm keeping her.”

“You think that's wise?”

“Maybe not, but it's a fact.”

“Take her out of here and keep her safe. I'll do what I can on my end, but I won't be able to keep this off the radar for long.”

Chapter Six

Haley's stress level dropped several notches when Crispin escorted her into the Coffee Cup Café. He'd taken her to a discount store after her ordeal at the FBI, and she was wearing a pretty sundress and sandals that he'd helped her pick out. She hadn't wanted Crispin to spend too much on her, but he'd seemed to enjoy dressing her like his personal dress-up doll. The naughty part was that she was still wearing his knit boxer shorts because he'd promised to take her to a sexy lingerie store after lunch. She was almost too excited to eat, but as they walked into a casual diner she'd enjoyed in her past life, she hung on to Crispin's hand and smiled.

Even though he didn't know the truth about her identity, he seemed to pick up on her likes, dislikes, and emotions. When he slid into the booth alongside her, she gave him a startled look and eased over to make space for him. The hostess gave them an indulgent “isn't that cute?” smile, and Haley blushed in reaction. He was acting like a very possessive boyfriend, and she loved it, even though it embarrassed her a little. Then she saw him cast a watchful look around the room and sighed as she realized the real reason he was keeping her so close. He was watching the room for danger. She would have been doing the same for him if her mind had been fully on the mission. It would have been if she weren't so besotted by the hunk pressed tight to her side.