A Breath Away Page 10

  Was protecting a thief any more morally compromising than protecting a politician?

  “Do you know Mr. Malden?” he finally asked.

  “No.”

  The detective settled his hands at his waist. “You people are just plain nuts.”

  “Hannigan and Malden aren’t important,” Jade said.

  “The D.A. isn’t likely to agree with you.” He pointed at himself. “I don’t agree with you.”

  “Who they’re connected to is what’s important. Somebody is hiring people to go after my client.”

  “How do you know that? Malden didn’t say anything, and we have no leads on the shooter.”

  “Instinct.”

  Parker held her gaze for a moment or two, then he shook his head. He seemed like a pretty decent cop, so he had to suspect there was a whole lot she wasn’t telling him, but he must also sense he’d never get her to talk. “Fine. I need all of you to come to the station to—”

  “Mr. Tremaine and I were the only witnesses.”

  “Whatever. I still need you to come down to the station and give your official statements.”

  Jade cast a glance at Remy, then David. She wasn’t crazy about that idea, but neither did she want Parker to know their location. He may realize Remy hadn’t been home if they’d been watching his apartment, but that was as much as she was willing to give him. And she still needed to pick up the copy of the case file Frank had gotten for them.

  “It’s a police station,” Parker said at her hesitation. “We’re the good guys, remember?”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s your customers.”

  “You are one paranoid lady.”

  “That’s what they pay me for.”

  “And one with influence. You got that case file pretty quickly.”

  She said nothing. This conversation was going down a path she didn’t need Parker exploring. “Let’s go, Charlie,” she said, still facing Parker. For him, she forced a smile. “Thank you for your quick response. We’ll be down in the morning to give our statements.”

  Turning, she led Remy to the limo. David got in and closed the door behind them, and they’d pulled away before the detective even moved.

  “What is he going to find out about Hannigan?” she asked Remy. His friend and sometime informant was the weakest link to their story.

  “Nothing. Colin is a federal government informant. The local cops won’t know anything about him except his rap sheet. He’d consider it beneath him to help them.”

  “Beneath him? No wonder the police can’t solve crimes these days.”

  “Even criminals have standards.”

  Oh, good grief.

  8

  AT THE HOTEL, with a diet soda in her hand, Jade paced in front of her client and her team. Even Mo, who’d been relaxing and watching a pay-per-view movie in the other room, had joined the discussion of the attempted assault. Only Frank was absent, as he was stowing Hannigan at a beach hotel and wouldn’t make it back until morning.

  “Again, a poorly planned attack, with way too many unpredictable barriers. How did the attacker know we’d come out the back? He guessed? And there was no way to foresee the traffic jam the limo got caught in. Plus, if Frank hadn’t taken Hannigan off and I hadn’t sent David to check on the limo, there would have been four of us.”

  “Maybe he intended to distract the others by holding you hostage, then go for Tremaine,” Mo said.

  “How could he have known I’d be there?”

  “Maybe he thought I’d be alone,” Remy said.

  “That’s more likely. Hannigan could have told Malden more about you than he thought. Maybe he and Garner figured you’d come alone.”

  “From our research into Garner, he seems pretty slick,” David said. “Would he really hire somebody as clumsy as Malden?”

  “I would think he’d be smoother,” Remy said.

  “Could be trying to throw us off by being sloppy,” Mo said.

  “Maybe, but after calling Remy to offer money for the ring, he’d pretty much blown any chance of flying under his radar.”

  “None of this makes sense,” Remy said as he stood. He walked over to the windows, turned his back to them and slid his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants.

  The solitary pose affected Jade as much as it had earlier, when he’d talked about the murder of his D.A. friend. She wanted to walk up behind him, slide her arms around him and send some of her heat into his body. She wanted to remind him he wasn’t alone anymore.

  Oh, yeah, Miss Bodyguard? And is that just a professional assurance?

  “These attacks just don’t seem like him,” he said. “Peter is very intelligent and cultured. He’s a premier authenticator of historical and contemporary art. He’s not sloppy, and he doesn’t take unnecessary risks.”

  “Something seems to have changed,” she said.

  “Maybe he’s desperate,” David said.

  “For a fifty-dollar ring,” she added. A ring that was obviously a key to something else. Was it possible it had some historical value—like the gun that killed Lincoln? “Mo, why don’t you make contact with our surveillance teams? Let’s find out what our suspect has been up to tonight.”

  As Mo rose from the sofa and headed to the computer equipment, David turned to Remy. “Ah, Mr. Tremaine—”

  “Remy, please.”

  David looked to Jade. She normally insisted that her staff address their clients formally to maintain professional objectivity. But nothing about this case was normal, so she nodded.

  “Remy, are you sure about this Hannigan guy? You said he was a gambler. Maybe he got himself into trouble, and Garner offered him enough money to get out.”

  “It’s possible, but if he needed money, he’d be more likely to come to me to get it.”

  “I’m not sure it matters either way,” Jade said. “He’s tucked away where he can’t do any more damage—intentional or not.”

  “Good point,” David said.

  “Why don’t you guys start your sleep shifts? We’re bound to have fresh ideas in the morning.”

  David got to his feet and waved as he headed to the other room. It had been a long day, and he was no doubt glad to see it end. Remy, however, still stood by the window, his hands tucked in his pants pockets.

  “You, too,” she said to him.

  “Are you going to bed?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked toward her, stopping just before their bodies brushed. “With me?” he whispered.

  Oh, boy. She swallowed. And stalled. “I need to shower, then we’ll…talk.”

  He brushed a strand of hair off her face. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “WHAT THE HELL am I doing?”

  Remy was lying flat on his back, in the dark, waiting for a woman who’d most likely never come.

  This need for her wasn’t normal. This idea that they were connected in some destined, elemental way was ridiculous. And seeking her out at the precise moment his life splashed into the toilet seemed even less sane.

  The fact that her professional attitude about her job was holding her back—the very thing saving his ass—was almost funny. If he didn’t have such a serious case of uncontrollable lust, he might laugh.

  But nothing about the past few days was laughable.

  Peter Garner.

  Given recent events, his suspicions about Garner murdering Sean Nagel seemed accurate. As Remy had many times, he considered simply telling the NSA Garner was connected to a smuggling case—not a stretch—then launch an official investigation that would set him up, and make sure he didn’t escape with his life.

  Simple. Direct. Over.

  Remy slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the onyx signet ring. He’d carried it with him for the last four months.

  Why had he lied to Jade?

  Habit? No, he could admit he didn’t trust her fully. He trusted her with his life and to do what was in his best interest, but he also knew she’d do the right thin
g. And when it came to Garner, right wasn’t necessarily his choice. He needed more flexibility to respond to whatever Garner tossed his way.

  Mostly right would more accurately describe his approach. Which was certainly better than mostly wrong—the way he’d lived his life for many years.

  Sister Mary Katherine had convinced him he wouldn’t go to hell for his sins as long as he repented. Would God buy mostly repented? Then again, maybe He’d decided hell on earth would be a more fitting punishment, so He’d sent Remy a bodyguard with a killer body, luscious lips and a laserbeam gaze that made his heart jump and his groin swell.

  Would she hate him if he took his vengeance on Garner? Or—given that she’d done the same thing in avenging her parents—would she be the one person who’d understand?

  But he couldn’t kill Garner too soon or else the secrets would die with him. Could Remy move his life forward before finally learning the ring’s significance?

  He reached down to his ankle holster and unstrapped it, setting his revolver on the nightstand beside him. He pulled out the lock pick set tucked within the holster and used a pick to pop the stone out of the ring. Underneath was a single, jagged piece of metal, which appeared to be the prong holding the stone, though he’d always imagined it was some sort of a key. It had a pattern of grooves too deliberate to be random, and the metal was thick and strong.

  But a key to what?

  He startled at a sound from the living room and shoved the ring back in his pocket a second before Jade rushed into the room.

  She was breathing hard as she leaned back against the door. She’d changed out of her dress and put on jeans and a black T-shirt. “I didn’t come in here to talk to you.”

  Heart hammering, he sat up. “You didn’t? Is everything okay?”

  She shook her head, then nodded. “I told Mo I needed to talk to you.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “No.”

  “What do you need?”

  She walked toward him, then slid her hand around the back of his head, her fingers stroking his hair. “You. Just you.”

  He braced his hands at her waist. He wanted to yank her into his lap and devour her, yet he also wanted to savor the moment. His erection pulsed. His blood warmed in anticipation.

  Her eyes darkened with smoky need as she leaned forward, her body pressed against his, pushing him onto his back. “I don’t get involved in relationships, remember? But I need you. I don’t know what you did, or even how you did it, but I can’t let it go.

  “You’ve captured me in a way I didn’t think I could be. I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to,” she added in a whisper.

  He cupped her cheek with his hand and pulled her head toward his. Her breath brushed his face. Tenderness washed over him, followed quickly by excitement, expectation.

  The moment their mouths met, the heat exploded. Her tongue pushed past his lips, sliding against his. His skin caught fire. Her body pulsed and warmed beneath his hands.

  He gripped her waist, molding her hips to his. The pressure was pleasure and pain. He moaned.

  “Quietly,” she said against his lips.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He didn’t want Mo charging in here, but he wasn’t sure he was capable of restraint. He wanted her naked. A moan on her part wouldn’t be unwelcome.

  Pulling her head back to his, he kissed her hard, then yanked her T-shirt from her jeans. He ran his hands underneath the soft cotton, over her stomach and cupped her breasts in his palms. With a flick of his thumbs, he slid them beneath her bra. Her nipples hardened at his touch, and she let a soft sigh escape against his mouth.

  “Better,” he whispered. “Much better.”

  But he wanted more. Skin to skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

  He flipped her over and straddled her, then pulled off her T-shirt. The soft, needy look on her face made him smile, made him want to do whatever it took to keep the expression there. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossed it aside, then trailed his tongue across her skin. She tasted sweet, better than he’d ever imagined.

  She arched her back, straining toward him, silently asking for more. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving the exquisite contrast of hard and soft. In his periphery he could see her other nipple silently begging for equal attention. After bestowing the same, hungry treatment on it, he kissed a trail up to her neck. He inhaled her clean scent and paused a moment to revel in the simple closeness of their bodies. In all of his fantasies he had never dreamed that she would feel so good, that her skin would caress his with such an erotic flair.

  His heart hammered against his chest. His erection pressed against the fly of his pants demanding satisfaction.

  He could hold her later—he’d have to. Now, he couldn’t wait to be inside her.

  She obviously had the same idea, as she started unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. She cupped him confidently in her hand, and he let his head drop back, sucking in a breath as he made a desperate grab for control of his body. The firm stroke of her fingers was nearly too much.

  “Condoms?” she whispered.

  “In my bag,” he managed to say.

  “Oh, right.”

  She let go of him and scooted off the bed, returning a moment later with several foil packets. She stripped off her jeans while he tossed off his clothes and rolled on the protection just as quickly.

  They met again on the bed, kneeling to face each other—completely bare this time. Completely open to each other.

  No, not yet. As much as he’d anticipated this moment, there were too many issues still between them for that kind of honesty. Soon, maybe, he’d be completely open with her, share all that he’d kept hidden. But at this moment the only thing he could focus on was the tempting woman in his arms.

  He kissed her, a slow, deep, sensual meeting of their mouths that spiked the tension between them. He ran his hands over her sexy body from her thighs to the sides of her breasts and back again. As she pressed closer he grasped the back of her knees, lifting them and urging her back onto the bed with the weight of his upper body. After wrapping her legs around his waist, he braced himself on his forearms. The heat of her sex against his erection sent a wave of lust through him that was so powerful he had to grit his teeth against the urge to bury himself deep inside her.

  Meeting her gaze, he brushed her hair off her face and nudged the entrance to her body. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She shook her head.

  “You are,” he said. “And for once, I’m in charge, so I have the final say.” She lifted her hips, a move that pushed the sensitive tip of his erection just inside her. He sucked in a breath. “Then again, maybe not.”

  No longer able to resist, he thrust his hips forward and surged into her, feeling a hot rush of satisfaction and pure hunger shoot through his body. Her fingers gripped his back and she let out a low moan. Fearing interference from her team and a premature end to their private time, he covered her mouth with his.

  She tightened her legs around him, bringing him in deeper with each of his thrusts. Beads of sweat popped out on his skin. His breathing grew labored. He wanted to hold out, to prolong the pleasure, but his control was weakening. She felt so amazingly tight and wet. She threw her whole body into moving against him, and he felt the effects all the way down to his toes.

  As his orgasm approached, he tore his mouth from hers and prayed she was growing closer, as well. He needed her with him when he came. He cupped her backside and changed the angle of her body. She closed her eyes and increased her pace.

  She was close. Very close.

  Yes.

  His body was roaring to completion, his breath forced out in quick pants. As he felt her squeeze his erection like a fist, his orgasm consumed him, pulsing in time with hers. He bucked and desperately tried to suck in air, finally collapsing on top of her like a fish denied water.

  Her heart thumped erratically beneath his e
ar. Her body was completely relaxed, a position he doubted she assumed very often.

  “Talk about crossing the line,” she said quietly, though she slid her fingers through his hair as if letting him know she didn’t blame him.

  “But it was worth it.”

  She continued sliding her hands back and forth in an absent caress. “Yeah, it was.”

  “Will you stay with me a while?”

  “I’m not inclined to move, so I guess I will.”

  “You could enjoy it.”

  “I’ll probably do that, too.”

  He managed to dredge up enough strength to roll off her and to his side. He propped his head in his hand, trailing his fingers down her bare, damp skin. She was flushed and relaxed. He decided he liked that just as much as commanding and fierce.

  “We’re good together.”

  Her gaze flicked to his and held. “Like this, yes.”

  “Not in other ways?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He frowned. He wanted to argue with her, tell her whatever problems they had could be worked out even though they were different people with opposite outlooks on life. Despite the complications and their issues of trust and acceptance, there was a part of him that wanted to let their chemistry sweep it all away. How like Jade to be honest—even in bed, where lying was prevalent way too often between couples. “We could be.”

  She stiffened. “A wild, temporary affair—that’s what we agreed to.”

  “You have my signature on this?”

  “Do I need it?”

  Why was he arguing the point? An affair suited him as well as it did her. Neither of them had the time or patience for a relationship. He should be concentrating on getting his life back, focusing on the moment and not thinking about what possibilities lay beyond the end of this case.

  “No,” he said finally. “Affair agreed. But no holding back.”

  “And we tell my staff nothing.”

  “They’re bound to notice you sleeping in my room every night.”

  “No, they won’t, because I won’t be doing that.”