Witness Seduction (3 page)

Russ had been family, a brother. And losing him to a drug dealer had been a crushing blow.

Caleb tried to swallow the ball of fury lodged in his throat. “He’ll pay,” he said hoarsely. “He
will
show up here, I know it, and when he does, we’ll be waiting.”

AJ leaned back in the chair, giving a satisfied nod. “Nice to hear you have your priorities straight.”

Caleb bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ve been lusting after your cute nurse for a week now, and I’m glad you’re still able to remember why we’re here.” AJ’s voice took on an admiring note. Glancing at the screen, he let out a soft whistle. “Though I’ve gotta admit, she’s fun to watch.”

Caleb followed AJ’s gaze, then stifled a groan. Marley had just come out of the walk-in closet in her bedroom, wearing black Spandex pants that hugged her shapely legs, while a tight yellow tank top stretched across her full, perky breasts.

Caleb’s fingers curled into fists. A jolt of desire shot straight to his cock and turned it to granite. He knew Marley’s routine to a T now, and when she put on the Spandex…that meant only one thing was about to happen.

Sexy yoga time.

He tore his eyes off the screen. “Have you made any progress figuring out where the money came from?”

AJ shook his head. “Still can’t trace it.”

Releasing a heavy breath, Caleb got to his feet and approached the desk. “Then we keep waiting.”

“So, what, we sit around for another week, waiting for something to happen? How long is Stevens going to let this stakeout go on?”

“I don’t know. But as long as we’re here, all we
can
do is wait.”

“For what?” AJ sounded frustrated. “There’s been no activity in the account since the wire transfer, no appearances by Grier, no phone calls, nada. What do you suggest we do?”

“We keep watching,” Caleb said, shrugging.

You mean torturing yourself.

He allowed himself another peek at the screen, swallowing when he noticed the sensual workout had begun. She always started out with sexy stretches that showcased her legs and emphasized her sleek calf muscles, followed by a series of little pelvic tilts that never failed to hold his undivided attention.
Oh, and look at that, now she had her hands and feet on the mat, ass thrust up into the air.

Caleb smothered a groan. How much more of this could he take? He was only a man, after all. A thirty-one-year-old single man who’d always had a healthy appetite when it came to sex.

And the woman on the screen, with her lithe body and floor gymnastics, just screamed sex. The proximity of their houses, separated by mere yards, only made the situation worse. It was only ten steps from his porch to hers. Ten steps, and he could be at her door…in her bed…

“Maybe making contact wasn’t such a bad idea,” AJ said suddenly.

Caleb’s head jerked up. “What are you talking about? You just chewed me out for that.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking at it from another angle. You already laid some of the groundwork today,” AJ said, a thoughtful look entering his harsh features. “You saved her life, chatted her up. Sure, she thinks you’re a total weirdo, but—”

“What do you mean, she thinks I’m a weirdo?”

His partner shrugged. “You were like a panicked little rabbit out there. Seriously, you kept inching away, like you were going to bolt any second. I saw the look on her face, man. She’s suspicious of you. And she thinks you’re weird.” AJ offered a big grin. “Fortunately, you’re going to fix that by going over there tomorrow.”

Caleb faltered. He didn’t reply for a moment, running the idea through his mind. “No,” he finally said.

“Why not? All you’ve gotta do is befriend her, get her to open up and figure out what she knows about Grier.”

AJ made it sound like the easiest task on the planet, which, for AJ, it probably was. Despite his scary biker looks, AJ was never hurting for female company. Not Caleb, though. His problem wasn’t finding female company; it was making sure nobody ever got too close. He liked his women the way he liked his cars—fast, bold and temporary. No strings, no hassles and definitely no relationships. He’d learned the hard way the price you paid when you formed attachments to people.

And he didn’t want to get close to Marley Kincaid. His attraction to her had already proven too big a hassle—why make it worse?

“I won’t sleep with her to find out what she knows about Grier,” he grumbled.

“Who said anything about sleeping with her? Uh, one-track mind?” AJ snorted. “All I said was become friends with her. She cut her arm, right? Go over there tomorrow to make sure she’s okay.”

Caleb studied the monitor with a frown. The bedroom was now empty, but light spilled from underneath the closed bathroom door. Another part of the routine, a long shower after sexy yoga.

Indecision rippled inside him. Should he do this? It had been kind of amusing, talking to her outside. She had a great sense of humor, and she also happened to be the most beautiful woman Caleb had ever seen. Plus he was wildly attracted to her. An attraction that could equal trouble.

But AJ had a point. Caleb’s supervisor, Ken Stevens, was a good man, but he wasn’t known for his patience. If this stakeout didn’t produce any results, if Grier didn’t show up soon, Stevens would pull them out. Making contact with Marley and finding out if she knew anything might help move the case along. Hell, it might be the only way to keep the case alive.

“I guess I can do that,” he said slowly. “Just to see if she knows something.”

Right, because her fresh-faced beauty and killer body have nothing to do with it.

“You’re a professional,” AJ said, as if he knew where Caleb’s thoughts had drifted. “Keep it casual, dig around and hopefully she leads us to Grier.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

AJ let out a frustrated sigh that revealed precisely how he felt about his next words. “Then we go back to waiting.”

E
MERGING FROM THE SHADOWS
, Patrick Grier deftly hopped the fence leading into the backyard of the house across the street from Marley’s. Darkness bathed the yard, which only helped his cause as he crept toward the back door. He’d purposely waited for the sun to set, killing time on a pier a few miles from here. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing him in this neighborhood. A contact of his had warned him the cops were still watching Marley. Otherwise he would’ve broken into her house months ago. But he had to play it safe. Getting caught wouldn’t help him or Marley one damn bit.

The door swung open easily when he turned the knob, and he stepped into the dark house. The temptation to run across the street to see Marley was so strong his legs started to itch. He swiftly fought the urge. He didn’t have a death wish, after all.

Breaking into this house had been risky enough, but fortunately he knew the old bat who lived here. He’d spoken to Lydia White several times when he’d lived across the street, and during their talks he’d learned she lived alone and had zero family. No friends, either, though that wasn’t a surprise considering her foul personality.

But even bitches had to eat.

Tucking the deli bag under his arm, Patrick headed upstairs without turning on any lights. The spare bedroom at the end of the hall had a perfect view of Marley’s place, and when he peeked out the window, he noticed her bedroom light was on. Was she lying in bed, thinking of him?

Turning away from the window, he strode to the narrow closet and flung the door open. A pair of wide brown eyes greeted him, along with the muffled screams of Lydia White as she wiggled around on the closet floor like a scared puppy.

Patrick scrunched up his nose when the faint odor of urine drifted into his nostrils. “You couldn’t hold it for a day?” he spat out.

The old lady whimpered, terror filling her wrinkled face.

Gritting his teeth, Patrick bent down and hauled her up so that she was sitting. He yanked off the duct tape stuck to her mouth. “Open your mouth, I brought you some grub. And remember what I said about screaming.” As a reminder, he half turned to show her the black 9mm sticking out of his waistband.

Another whimper.

Ripping the wax paper covering the ham sandwich he’d picked up, he lifted one half to the lady’s mouth and practically forced it down her wrinkled old throat. She objected at first, but then began to chew, unable to resist the first form of nourishment she’d had since he’d left the house early this morning.

He stifled a curse as he fed the old bat, wishing he could just kill her and be done with it. But he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. No, he only killed when his own survival was threatened. Besides, he needed old Lydia around to answer the phone when some rare person called—while Patrick held a gun to her head, of course.

So far, Lydia had followed instructions like a pro. And using her house as his base of operations was ideal. For the moment.

“Here,” he barked, uncapping a bottle of water and bringing it to Lydia’s mouth.

The elderly woman drank fervently, but the glimmer of fear never once left her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped. “I told you, I won’t be here long. I’m just making some arrangements and then I’ll be gone.”

And so would Marley. No way was he leaving her behind. She was the love of his life, after all. So unbelievably different from the fast and loose women in his past. He’d known it the second she’d walked into his hospital room in her green scrubs, with that gentle smile on her face.

His smile dissolved into a frown as he thought about all the shit that had gone down three months ago. He still experienced an onslaught of rage every time he remembered what had happened in the warehouse. Damn cops. The shipment they’d intercepted had cost him millions of dollars. Not to mention that they’d officially made it impossible for him ever to live in the States again.

Tomorrow morning, he planned on driving to Tijuana to meet with a guy who was arranging the necessary papers, and he was still working on a way to contact Marley. Once he did, he could get hold of the money he’d hidden in her house. He’d stashed two hundred grand under her bathroom floor three days after he moved in; it was part of his routine—always have an exit strategy in case you need one.

And then there was the hundred grand in his and Marley’s joint account. Earlier this week a European contact who owed him money had transferred the dough in there, since the feds had frozen all of Patrick’s personal accounts and he didn’t have the resources yet to open anything new. He wasn’t sure why they’d left the joint account open—his instincts told him it was a trap—but if he could, he planned on transferring the amount to a bank in the Caymans when he secured the necessary ID papers.

Once he got the cash from Marley’s house, though, he was outta here.

And Marley was going with him.

Sure she is,
came the cynical voice in his head.
Women always love men who betray them.

“She
does
love me,” Patrick insisted, wishing he could punch that bothersome voice. “And she’ll forgive me for lying to her. Marley doesn’t stay angry at people, it’s not her way.”

He noticed the old lady staring up at him with eyes as big as saucers. Had he spoken out loud?

“She does, you know,” he said to Lydia. “Love me, I mean.”

The certainty surrounding his heart was as strong as steel, causing the worry in his gut to dissolve. Of course Marley would forgive him. She was still his. All he had to do was find a way to get to her. And once he had the cash, he was going to whisk Marley away to a place where nobody could ever tear them apart again.

“O
KAY
,
SO HERE’S WHAT
you’re going to do,” Gwen said, tightening the drawstring on her bright pink scrubs.

Marley flopped onto the narrow bench in the nurse’s locker room and bent down to untie her shoelaces. “What are you talking about?”

“Your neighbor.”

“You’re still hung up on this?” Marley frowned. “I told you, he’s kind of strange.”

“But you said he was cute.” Gwen grinned. “And he caught you when you did a swan dive off the roof.”

“Fine, he gets two points for that. And then minus three points for being aloof. I swear, he couldn’t wait to get away from me.”

“But you spoke to Debbie, right?”

Marley nodded. “Before I left for work. She said she and Stu did rent the house, to a writer from New York, and, yes, his name is Caleb Ford.”

“Well, there you go, he was telling the truth.”

“Yeah, but… Something about him was really off.”

“So he’s shy. Which is why you need to make a move,” Gwen answered as she tied her curly hair in a loose twist at the top of her head. “Tonight you’re going to walk next door and ask for a cup of sugar.”

Marley laughed. “No way. That’s so lame.”

“Wait, I’m not done. So you ask for the sugar, and then you bat your eyelashes and say, ‘Actually, maybe I can give
you
some sugar instead.’ One thing will lead to another and presto! You get laid and forget all about Patrick.”

Marley shot her friend a firm look. “I’m not going to seduce my neighbor.”

“Then at least promise to keep an open mind,” Gwen pleaded. “There’s no harm in saying hi to the guy next time you see him. Just don’t be afraid of some flirting, or heck, even a casual conversation. Oh, and could you
please
come out with me and Nick on Tuesday? We’re going to the salsa bar. It’ll be a good time.”

“I’ll let you know.” Marley took a step toward the locker room door. “I gotta go. My feet are killing me and I’m craving a long, hot bubble bath.”

Gwen sighed. “I hate the night shift,” she complained as she followed Marley out the door. “You’re so lucky you’re going home.”

“Yeah, to sleep,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m coming back for the graveyard shift, while you get to spend the night with your boyfriend.”

“Good point.”

They said goodbye in the hallway, and Marley headed for the elevator, her flip-flops snapping against the white linoleum floor.

When she exited the hospital, the early-evening air was warm, and she breathed it in, enjoying the fresh scent of salt and palm trees. She loved San Diego—the heat, the laid-back atmosphere, the ocean. She hadn’t been to the beach in ages, she realized as she crossed the parking lot to her car. The renovations in her house were tedious and left little time for trips to the beach.

But maybe Gwen was right. Maybe it was time to quit using her house as an excuse not to go out and have fun. God knew she needed some fun after the past year.

Before she could start the car, her cell phone burst out in the Pussycat Dolls ringtone Gwen had downloaded as a joke. Her brother’s number flashed on the screen, causing Marley to stifle a groan. Sam still hadn’t come back to finish the closet he’d half gutted, and she had a feeling she was in for another excuse.

Sighing, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”

“I wanted to touch base with you about the closet.”

“Finally. So when are you coming to finish it?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. It’ll probably have to be at the end of the week.”

“Why not earlier?”

“No time. We’ve got a massive renovation to finish this week, kiddo.”

Marley rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me kiddo. I’m three years older than you, Sammy.”

“On paper, maybe. But in maturity, I win.”

“In your dreams.”

“See how immature you are? Only ten-year-olds say ‘in your dreams.’” He suddenly sounded contrite. “I’ll try to make it earlier, since you’re being so difficult.”

“What’s difficult is having to jump over a huge hole in the floor every time I walk down my hall,” she countered.

“I’ll fix it soon, I promise. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk this week, ’kay?”

“Hot date?” she teased.

“Yep.”

Marley grinned to herself. “Should I bother asking for her name or will she be but a mere speed bump in the road that is your love life?”

“Very poetic. And the answer is we’ll see,” Sam said mysteriously. “I’ll talk to you later, kiddo.”

They hung up, and Marley was still smiling as she started the car and left the hospital staff lot. Sam always managed to brighten her day. They hadn’t been very close growing up. He’d been the epitome of a pesky little brother, what with his unfunny pranks and that God-awful, year-long “why?” phase. Oh, and she most definitely hadn’t appreciated the time he’d squeezed purple hair dye into her shampoo bottle.
Permanent
hair dye. But after their mother died, they’d banded together to console their dad, and a bond had formed. Now, Marley couldn’t imagine not having Sammy in her life.

Turning onto the main street, she headed in the direction of home. As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed a shiny black Range Rover parked next door and her heart gave an involuntary jump. She thought of Caleb Ford’s piercing blue eyes and lean, muscular body, then pushed the memory of her neighbor from her mind. She parked and climbed the rickety porch steps, her feet aching the entire time. Forget yoga tonight—she was heading straight to the bathtub and staying in there for hours.

Kicking off her flip-flops, she closed the door, hopped over the stack of two-by-fours on the floor and made a beeline for the narrow staircase. The moment she reached the top step, the doorbell chimed, startling the hell out of her.

Sighing, she headed back downstairs, determined to get rid of whoever had rung the bell. No one she knew would show up unannounced, so it was probably someone selling newspaper subscriptions or something equally annoying, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that right now. She paused in front of the door and peered into the peephole.

A shaky breath flew out of her mouth when she found Caleb Ford’s blue eyes peering back at her.

Shoot. She was so not prepared for a visit from the hottie next door. She had convertible hair, wasn’t wearing a spot of makeup and she hadn’t even bothered putting on a bra when she’d changed out of her nursing scrubs.

But she couldn’t
not
answer the door. He knew she was home. He’d probably seen her pull up just now.

The doorbell rang a second time.

Maybe she shouldn’t answer it all. She didn’t know this guy—just because he was renting the house next door, that didn’t make them buddies. She didn’t owe him anything.

Actually, you do. He helped you escape death.

A sharp knock rapped against the door, making her jump. Wow, this guy was overeager, wasn’t he?

Taking a deep breath, she finally reached for the knob and opened the door. And then there he was, standing on her porch and looking even sexier than she remembered.

He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his faded blue jeans. The stance just screamed
cool,
emphasized by the way the sun was setting directly behind him. Dark oranges and reds lit up the sky, and in turn cast a ruddy glow over him. He looked like a cowboy in the Wild West, standing in the sunset.

Vivid imagination, Marley.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Caleb asked in a deep sexy voice that made her shiver despite the balmy breeze drifting into the hall.

She shook the cobwebs from her mind and tried to remember what she’d been doing before being assaulted by his sex appeal. “I was about to take a bath,” she admitted.

Something flickered in his eyes. Heat?

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I interrupted you. I came by to see about your arm.”

“My arm?” Then she remembered, and glanced down at the bandage covering the cut. “It’s fine, just a scrape.”

“Oh,” he said again, shifting awkwardly. “I guess I’ll go then. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Promise to keep an open mind. Be open to some flirting, or heck, even a casual conversation.

Gwen’s words buzzed in her head. She hesitated. Okay, maybe she could manage some light-hearted small talk, a flirty remark or two. It wouldn’t kill her. He was obviously trying to be nice, coming over to check on her.

Besides, did she really want to send away the first man who’d made her feel anything close to desire in months?

“The bath can wait a little while longer,” she found herself saying. “Do you want to come in for a quick cup of coffee?”

He nodded. “Sure, if it’s no trouble.”

“None at all.” She opened the door wider. As he stepped into her narrow front hall, she felt overpowered by the sheer maleness of him. He was at least six-two, his big firm body dominating the small space. Before she could stop herself, she imagined that big firm body dominating
her,
and her breasts immediately ached, her nipples poking out against the front of her tank top. She wasn’t surprised when Caleb’s eyes dropped to her chest, lingering only for a second.

And with that one brief look, a rush of heat filled her body. She was rooted in place, watching his face as he watched her, and for a moment she experienced a sense of familiarity. As if they knew each other. There was something unbelievably intimate about his gaze.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, the kitchen’s this way.”

Caleb followed her down the hall, keeping a respectful distance behind her. As they entered her kitchen, she experienced a twinge of embarrassment at the chaos in the large airy space. Last weekend she’d scraped off most of the awful flower-patterned wallpaper the previous owners had described as
charming
in the real estate listing, and the walls were now bare. Paint cans sat near the splintered oak counter, which she needed to replace, and since she planned on painting the pantry, too, all the food from there rested in boxes against the wall. The room was a disaster.

“Sorry for the mess,” she apologized. “I’m doing some renovating.”

He raised a brow. “On your own?”

“Yep,” she replied, gesturing for him to sit at the table tucked in the corner of the room. “I’m about to start the kitchen, which leaves me with, oh, every other room in the house.”

Caleb’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. Marley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow. This man definitely needed to do that more often.

He sank into one of the tall-backed chairs and crossed his ankles. “You’re a do-it-yourself type then.”

“Of course. It’s not fun hiring someone to do the job for you.” She shrugged. “Way more satisfying knowing that I did the work.”

She flicked on the coffeemaker and opened the cupboard above the sink, pulling out two mugs. “So what brought a New Yorker all the way across the country?”

There was a long pause, and then he chuckled. “Checking up on me, huh?”

She turned around and met his knowing look. “What?”

“I never told you I was from New York.”

Heat scorched her cheeks. Shoot. Totally busted. How could she slip up like that?

“I called Debbie in Paris,” she admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were on the up and up. They didn’t mention a renter before they left.”

“It was a last-minute thing,” he said, not offering further explanation.

The coffee machine clicked, and she poured the hot liquid into the mugs, glancing over at him. “Let me guess, you take yours black.”

His lips twitched. “How’d you know?”

“Just a feeling.” She dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into her cup, then walked over to the table and handed him his. Rather than sitting, she leaned against the counter again, blowing on her coffee to cool it.

“You’re just going to hover over me like that?” Caleb asked.

“I hate sitting down,” she confessed. “Probably because of my job. I’m on my feet all day, and I’ve gotten used to it. I go a little stir crazy when I’m in a chair.”

“So…” He held his cup in one hand, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Do you usually make sure everyone you meet is on the up and up?”

The blush returned to her cheeks. “Not really. I just…well, I like the Strathorns and I wanted to make sure…” Her voice trailed, and she made a wry face. “Sorry, I guess I’ve been having some trust issues lately.”

He appeared to mull over her remark, then raised his mug to his lips. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, her stomach doing a funny little flip. Caleb Ford oozed masculinity, even when he drank. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d be like that in bed, controlled, powerful.

As if he’d read her mind, he locked his eyes with hers. Little sparks danced along Marley’s skin. There were sparks in the air, too. Hard to ignore them, zinging back and forth between her and Caleb, heating her skin. Breaking the eye contact, she distracted herself by taking another sip of coffee.

“Yeah, I know all about those. Trust issues,” he clarified with a shrug. “To be honest, trust isn’t something I’m good at.”

She was suddenly curious. “Giving it, or getting it?”

“A little of both, probably.”

Before she could press for details, he glanced around the room, taking in the paint supplies scattered on the tiled floor. “So you’re starting with the painting first?” When she nodded, he said, “What else are you planning to do?”

Considering the grief Gwen had given her about these renovations yesterday, it was nice talking to someone who actually seemed interested. Before she could stop herself, she launched into a recitation of everything she planned to fix up. She was vaguely aware that she’d gone into babbling mode, but hey, at least it helped her ignore the rampant flames of sexual attraction threatening to burn down her kitchen.

C
ALEB WAS HAVING
a very tough time keeping his eyes off Marley. Leaning against the counter in her faded jeans and curve-hugging tank top, with her golden hair up in a messy ponytail and her bare feet, she made a seriously alluring picture.