Trace of Fever (16 page)

“I’m not as delicate as you seem to think I am.”

“Maybe not.” He cupped her face in both hands. “But you are soft and small and, at select times, very sweet.”

She made a rude sound. “Sweet, huh? You’re as deranged as Helene.”

“I want nothing to do with that bitch on wheels.”

With a humorless laugh, Priss said, “I don’t think you have a choice on that one. Just as Murray’s willing to sacrifice me to test you, he’s willing to sacrifice you to test her. Everything is about tests with him. And I get the feeling few people ever pass muster.”

She was right, of course. And astute. “When you live your life as Murray does, trust is a hard commodity to find.”

“What about the life you live?”

Unwilling to go into that with her, Trace shook his head. He could count on his fingers the number of people he trusted, and so far, she wasn’t one of them. “You think fast on your feet. That was a smooth story you told.”

She shrugged, but some sad truth sent her eyes downcast.

Had her life involved a lot of lies? From what he knew after her background check, she hadn’t attended public schools or held a job outside of the porn shop.

He had his suspicions of course, and most of them centered on the relationship her mother must have had with Murray. Eventually, Priss would tell him everything. And in the meantime, he’d left it up to Dare to do more digging.

“Will you be able to remember that twisted tale, to keep your story straight?”

Long lashes lifted and she stared up at him. “What do you think?”

He thought her ability for slick manipulation made her beyond suspect, and yet, at that moment, it didn’t matter.

Trace stepped closer, close enough that he felt the warmth of her small body and sensed her trembling anticipation. “I’m going to kiss you, Priss.”

Slowly, Priss nodded. “And you know what?” Her attention dropped to his mouth. “I’m going to let you.”

T
HE KISS LINGERED UNTIL
Trace knew he had to end it or else find a room. If he did that, he’d be late getting back to Murray, because a quickie with Priss would never satisfy him. Sure, it’d take the edge off, but what he really wanted was to linger with her, to spend his time sating them both. Soon, he told himself.

When the timing was right.

Responsibility had never felt so heavy.

“You, Priscilla Patterson, are a mighty distraction.”

“I never was before.” She put her forehead to his sternum. “But I’m glad I am now. Truth is, I need the distraction as much as you apparently do.”

“Worried?” He smoothed her hair again. He couldn’t wait to feel it on his bare skin. They were moving at the speed of light, and the circumstances weren’t exactly conducive to seduction, but that didn’t seem to matter. The chemistry was there, taking over, driving them both, and he felt defenseless against it. Against her.

“Just wondering about something.” She levered back. “Murray doesn’t trace the calls?”

Leading her toward a bar stool, Trace shook his head. “I have a router on the phone. He can’t.”

“Ah. Clever.” She studied him. “So you and Dare run a high-tech operation, as I suspected. I can’t see you guys running to the local security warehouse and picking up run-of-the-mill routers. So is it the same type of device a government official might use?”

Avoiding the questions, Trace picked up the platter of sandwiches. “You need to eat.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I need to stop trusting you so much, at least until you start to reciprocate a little.”

“You’ve been trusting me?” He gave her a long look. “Could’ve fooled me.” Hell, it felt like she fought him at every opportunity.

Propping her chin on a fist, Priss sighed. “Like I said, it needs to be reciprocated. And until then, I’m not accepting any food or drinks from you or your cohorts.”

“They’re friends, not cohorts.”

“Even Dare? And what about this Jackson person?”

Trace was about to chide her for constantly trying to pry, but everyone filed back into the kitchen.

Matt said, “I need to go. I have other appointments today.” Without a single ounce of hesitation, he cupped Priss’s shoulders, drew her forward, and gave her a smacking kiss right on her slightly parted lips.

It was a toss-up who was more surprised, Priss or Trace. Priss blinked rapidly, Trace snarled and Chris laughed at them both.

“I enjoyed working with you, Priss. You were more than entertaining, and a font of information on all things kinky.”

Trace narrowed his eyes. Was Matt trying to rile him?
All things kinky?
Just what the hell had they discussed? “What does that mean, Matt?”

“She schooled us on the porn marketplace. Very informative.” After a meaningful glance at Trace, he turned back to Priss. “I hope to see you again.”

She went still, unsure what to say. Trace filled in the silence. “Did you want to bill me, or get paid now?”

“I almost hate to charge, it was all so fascinating.”

Trace growled. “But you will.”

Grinning, Matt said, “Yes.” As he turned away, he added, “I’ll get something in the mail to Dare. He can pass it along to you.
I
certainly trust you.”

Matt’s emphasis meant that Priss
didn’t
trust him—not that Trace needed a reminder of that.

Chris walked out with Matt, and Molly again tried to get Priss to eat.

“Why is everyone playing my nursemaid? It’s not like I’m emaciated or fainting from hunger.” She refused the food. “Thanks anyway, Molly, but I’m not going to starve.”

Annoyed, Trace stalked off.

Priss turned on her seat. “Where are you going?” And then with a touch of alarm, “Are you leaving without me?”

He stopped, flexed his hands a few times, and pivoted to pace right back to her. “I would not leave you here.”

“No?” She cleared her throat and asked hopefully, “Would you drug me again?”

His teeth ground together in frustration, but he didn’t lie. “If necessary.”

All reserve vanished and Priss threw up her hands. “Jerk!”

Trace touched her jaw, but she leaned away. “I’m going out to get Liger’s belongings. Soon as that’s done, we’ll leave.” He hesitated, left eye flinching, then bent to her mouth again. He kissed her before she even realized what he would do, but no way in hell did he want Matt’s kiss to remain fresh.
“Together.”

For only a moment, Priss looked dazed, then she gave an embarrassed glance at Dare and Molly. After regaining her aplomb, she leaned her elbows back on the bar and shrugged. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you. Not like I have much else to do.”

“Be good, Priss.”

She went hoity. “Meaning you don’t want me grilling anyone?”

“Exactly.” And before he wasted more time bantering with her, he exited the room. He’d be busy much of the night with Murray, but the next day…maybe the next day he’d have to advance things a bit. Until he got Priss out of his system, he knew he wouldn’t be one hundred percent. Yet to deal with Murray, he’d need all his wits, and then some.

P
RISS WAVED AFTER
T
RACE’S
fast-retreating back, then swiveled around to Molly. “Good riddance. Can you believe his nerve? The man slips a Mickey into my drink and then expects me to just act like it didn’t happen.”

“That would be my cue.” With a nod at the ladies, Dare went off after Trace.

Molly surprised Priss by chuckling. She lifted her cola in a toast. “You have Trace befuddled, I’ll say that. When I first met him, he was so cool and detached, it kind of freaked me out.”

Despite Trace’s succinct warning, Priss wasn’t one to miss an opportunity for info. “Yeah, when was that exactly?”

Molly didn’t take the bait. She sipped her cola before setting aside the can. “He’s warmed up some, but he takes his self-assigned responsibilities very seriously, which means he’s usually a real somber guy. It’s kind of nice to see him chasing his own tail for once.”

Trying for subtlety, Priss asked, “Self-assigned responsibilities?”

Molly laughed. “Did I tell you what actor was chosen to play my lead male protagonist in the movie?”

The change of topic threw Priss enough that she asked the appropriate questions and got engaged in Molly’s ex
planations, and before she knew it, Trace, Dare and Chris all returned.

As they strode into the kitchen, each of them tall, well built and strong, oozing capability in various degrees, Priss couldn’t help but admire them. “Studs galore.”

Molly choked on another laugh. “Yup.”

With the guys close enough to hear, she asked Molly, “Do they run in packs? Like wolves, I mean.”

Easily amused, Molly played along. “They must. Wait until you see Jackson. He fits right in.” She blew a kiss to her husband when he gave her a dark look. “A regular Romeo, that one.”

Chris snorted. “Not according to Alani.”

Hearing a new name, Priss asked, “Who’s Alani?”

And everyone clammed up. An almost depressed air settled over the previous camaraderie. She frowned, wondering about the mysterious Alani and the esteemed Jackson.

“Sorry,” Chris said softly, speaking to the room at large. And without missing a beat, he added, “I’m going to take very good care of your cat, Priss, don’t worry. For the time being, he’ll stay at my place at night to keep Dare’s girls from sticking their noses into his cat box. But when I come up here, I’ll bring him with me.”

“You don’t stay here?” She’d been going on the assumption that they all lived in the house together.

He shook his head. “Did you see the smaller house that’s closer to the lake?”

“Yes.” She’d noticed it when she was outside with Trace, but hadn’t paid much attention, not with her and Trace’s conversation.

“That’s my house. I like my privacy.”

Priss rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine any place getting more private than this setup.”

“True enough. But with those two—” he nodded at
Dare and Molly, already cuddled close on the opposite side of the bar “—it’s nice to move out of hearing range each night.”

Dare reached over to smack Chris on the back of the head, but he ducked away.

Trace said, “The honeymoon will never wear off for those two.”

That sounded really nice to Priss. With her mother’s mental instability and then lingering illness, and the un-complimentary atmosphere of her workplace, she’d never really been around traditional families, much less happily married couples. Molly and Dare looked
very
happy together.

Priss let out a wistful breath.

Chris mistook that for something altogether different. “While we move this stuff down to my place, did you want to say goodbye to Liger?”

And just that easily, her mood darkened. “I love that big cat, Chris.”

All joking aside, he said, “That much was obvious.”

“You damn well better pamper him.”

“Guaranteed.”

Molly reached across the bar to touch her arm. “We’ll all give him plenty of attention and love, I promise. Please don’t worry about that.”

They did seem like animal lovers; Dare’s girls were certainly pampered. They were members of the family, which made it all the more special.

Priss took her time talking quietly with Liger, hoping he’d understand her absence and not feel abandoned. He touched his nose to hers, gave her one of his sweet little meows, then went to lie by Tai and Sargie.

It was almost as if he wanted her to know that he’d be fine. She swallowed a lump of emotion and blinked back hot tears.

By the time she and Trace were back in the old truck, ready to pull away, Priss did feel better about leaving Liger behind.

“At least he’ll be safe,” she said as much to herself as to anyone else.

Trace put a hand on her knee. “That’s more than I can say for you.”

Dare leaned in her window. “Be smart, Priss, and listen to Trace.”

Priss scowled at him. “Why doesn’t he have to listen to me?”

After a long stare-off, Dare peered past Priss to Trace and said, totally deadpan, “Listen to Priss.”

Trace grinned. “I’ll try if she will.”

Priss put up her chin. “I make no promises—but whenever possible, I’ll try.”

Dare reached in and ruffled her perfectly styled hair, much like she’d seen him do with his dogs. Trace didn’t like that, which amused Priss. His territorial tendencies were new to her. Sure, her employee Gary tried to act possessive, but that idea was so laughable that it annoyed more than it complimented.

As Trace backed out, Priss waved to the assembly in the driveway. It included Chris, Dare and Molly, with both dogs and Liger lounging in the sunshine.

It was the strangest thing, but it felt like she was leaving…family. Not the dysfunctional family she and her mother had formed, but a
real
family.

Pressing a fist to her chest to try to contain the hurt in her heart, Priss accepted the sad truth: after she retrieved Liger, the chances of her ever seeing these people again would be slim to none, and slim was out of town.

They were nothing to her—just as she was nothing to them. For the first time, she really felt the loss.

“You okay, Priss?”

God, it amazed her how easily Trace picked up on her moods. He’d done that from the very beginning, which either made him lethally perceptive, or…a truly wonderful guy.

Resting her head back against the seat, she looked at him. He had a gorgeous profile. She’d teased Molly about the guys always being handsome, but to her, Trace was by far the most incredible. Even this Jackson person Molly had mentioned couldn’t hold a candle to Trace, she was sure of it. “I’m fine.”

He shook his head to let her know he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press her, either.

For the longest time, they drove in companionable silence along gravel roads that turned to paved and eventually gave way to busier streets that melded into highway ramps.

While Trace repeatedly stole looks at her, Priss took note of all the beautiful scenery. There were rolling green hills, natural lakes and ponds, and many horse farms.

“Kentucky?” she finally guessed.

“Yeah.” Trace turned on the radio, not loud but on a music station. “Not far from home, though. We’ll cross the bridge over into Ohio in just a couple of hours.”

It was such a nice concession, having Trace give her even a small but obvious fact, that she felt she owed him a truth. “You know, if it makes you feel better, my sense of direction sucks. I doubt I’d be able to find my way back here even if I had a GPS.”

Trace grinned. “Dare wasn’t worried.” He ruined what could have been a nice compliment by adding, “There was nothing in your background to suggest you’d be a threat in any way.”

“Mmm.” Priss looked out the window at a field of cows. “Let’s hope Murray sees it that way, too.”

The mention of Murray soured Trace’s mood. “I can’t get over how you look.”

And he didn’t sound happy about it. Curious, Priss watched him. “So how do I look?”

“Hot.” His mouth tightened, but he said, “Fuckable.”

Startled, she felt heat tinge her cheeks. “You smooth talker, you.”

“Forget smooth.” He squeezed the steering wheel. “I’m worried about how Murray’s going to react when he sees you.”

His worry started to chew on her, too. “I’m his daughter, remember?”

Trace cursed low. “Murray’s not going to care that you’re supposedly related.”

Supposedly? So he still didn’t believe her about that? Well, truthfully, she couldn’t be one hundred percent about it herself. Her mother’s best guess put Murray as the paterfamilias, and that was all that mattered to Priss.

“What do you think he’ll do?”

Trace gave her a lingering glance, then returned his attention to the road. “Given how you look—”

“Fuckable?”

“Yes. And like a prime piece of salable property.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t much of an improvement, but she got his point. Murray was in the business of selling human property. If he thought he could make money off her…

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to use you to cement a deal, sort of as the icing on the cake, and at the same time he could remove you as a threat to his empire.”