Kitabı oku: «The Business Of Strangers», sayfa 3

His genius with computers was coupled with a hacker’s love of a challenge. No database—university, state or federal—seemed impenetrable with him at the keyboard. With the information he was able to access for her, she’d chosen a new identity and followed every lead she could think of. And what she appreciated most about him, in all this time, was his willingness to use his skills without asking questions she had no intentions of answering.

Although he must have put some details together about what drove her, he didn’t press her about it, and she appreciated his discretion as much as his friendship.

Refilling her cup, she sipped, watching the river churn sluggishly by, as evening turned to dusk. If she headed back now she could get a couple hours of work in. Not at the sheriff’s office, but in the office she’d set up in a spare bedroom in the house she’d bought in Tripolo.

Each lead she’d followed about her identity, every fact she’d discovered, was carefully encrypted and kept on her home computer. After six years she had a substantial file with a copy downloaded to CD monthly and sent to a mail drop across the country for safekeeping. So far she had plenty of dead ends, plenty of threads that apparently went nowhere. But she wasn’t giving up. She’d never give up.

There were some who would consider her existence lonely. But she thought she must be used to being alone, because it had never bothered her overmuch in the last half-dozen years. What had seemed strange was the openhearted generosity of Luz, the puppy-dog friendliness of Benny. The fact that Ria had first regarded both of them with suspicion was surely an indictment of who, or what, she’d been.

Catching the waitress’s attention, she summoned her over, ready to leave. Whatever else she’d learned about herself, she wasn’t one to make the same mistake twice. Benny lived halfway across the country and she was excruciatingly careful on the rare occasions she allowed herself to contact him on an untraceable cell phone. She didn’t think she’d be able to bear it if another person died because of her.

“Oh, there’s no bill, ma’am,” the waitress said. “Jake said it’s on the house.”

Jake. She’d like to pretend she’d already forgotten him, but she wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself. He’d hovered in the back of her mind since he’d left, a haunting reminder of a fascinating man she would never see again. Ria opened her purse, took out some bills. “I told him that wasn’t necessary. I’d like to pay for my own meal. Could you please tell me how much it was?”

But the woman was backing away, a faintly alarmed expression on her face. “Oh, no, ma’am, I couldn’t do that. Jake said specifically, and ’round here, we do what he says.”

With a mental shrug, Ria gave up. She folded the bills and handed them to the server. “Then this is for you.”

The woman gave her a shocked look, but whisked them into a pocket in her apron quickly enough. “Thank you, ma’am. Hope you come back real soon.”

But thoughts of returning were far from Ria’s mind as she made her way to the large parking lot outside, keys in her hand. It was full now, much more crowded than it had been when she’d arrived. Walking purposefully toward her car, she heard her cell phone ring and took it from her purse, checking the caller ID. Eldon Croat. With a grimace, she decided against answering it. Tomorrow would be soon enough to meet with the county commissioner and try to talk him out of the press conference he’d want to call about the latest drug busts. Even after all these years, and the attempts she’d taken to change her appearance, she was leery about getting—

He seemed to come out of nowhere, looming from between two cars and taking quick steps toward her. Her hands were full, slowing her response, and before she could react he was behind her, grabbing her nape and smashing her face into the roof of her car.

It was telling in that instant, with stars bursting behind her eyes, that her first thought was of the assassins. And that they’d finally caught up with her.

Chapter 2

Jake Tarrance cruised into the lot and pulled into his private parking spot. Not even to himself was he willing to admit he’d hurried through the problem-solving meeting this evening. It was doubtful the copper-haired woman with the incredible eyes was still at Hoochees, even more doubtful that she’d changed her mind about keeping him company. Still, the memory of taut curves and a tight body had him dispatching his troublesome supplier, Roy Hastings, more quickly than usual. Tonight’s solution had been temporary, at best. Hastings was getting to be too much a liability. And Jake had no conscience about dispensing with liabilities.

There were some who would swear he had no conscience at all. More and more frequently these days, he was inclined to agree.

Lights were visible from the security booth installed in the center of the lot, but he didn’t see anyone inside. He got out of the car with his hand on the gun nestled at the base of his back. Security might be making rounds, but for a man with a price on his head, caution was a way of life.

After taking a couple of steps, he paused, hearing sounds of a struggle. He withdrew the gun and thumbed off the safety, running in that direction.

He didn’t have to go far before he saw the fight going on. He reholstered the gun and reached for his cell phone to alert the still-absent security. But in the next second Jake realized the struggle involved a man and woman, and something inside him went glacial. The phone remained in his pocket. He’d deal with the matter himself.

Racing forward, he became aware of two things simultaneously. One was that the guy was definitely getting the worst end of the battle; the second was that the female beating the hell out of him was none other than the intriguing woman he’d shared a drink with.

The other man rushed at her, his head lowered. She kicked out, catching him in the jaw with enough force to snap his head back. The blow made him stagger, and he stumbled against a nearby car. While he leaned there dazedly, she closed the distance between them, grabbed his shirt to pull him forward and rammed her knee into his groin.

Jake’s brows rose in approval. He didn’t recall ever seeing a woman less in need of rescuing. Folding his arms across his chest, he watched as the man gave a strangled moan, then in slow motion crumpled to the asphalt.

“That ought to take care of his social life for a few days, anyway.”

The woman wheeled around, probably still nerved up with adrenaline. But Jake’s amusement fled the moment he caught sight of her face. The blood covering it was still flowing freely, and staining what remained of her yellow blouse. The buttons had been torn off, to leave it hanging loose, revealing the nude, lace-edged bra beneath. The ice abruptly re-formed in his veins.

Jake took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her. When she didn’t move to take it, he pressed it into her hands. “Are you hurt as badly as you look?”

She gave him a slight frown, bent to catch a glimpse of herself in a car’s side mirror. “Great,” she muttered, wadding up his handkerchief and pressing it against her nose. Sending a sidelong glare at the man still clutching himself on the ground, she said, “I ought to hammer him again.”

Something inside Jake eased slightly at her tone. It was disgruntled, but she didn’t sound as though she was badly injured. “I think at this point that would be redundant, don’t you?” He stepped closer, caught her chin in his hand, turned her face one way, then the other, surveying it critically. “Your nose doesn’t look broken. How does it feel?”

“Like it got slammed into a car.”

When she pulled away from his touch, he let her go. She set down the handkerchief for a moment to tie the front of her shirt together. Taking the cell phone out of his pocket, he pressed a button on his speed dial. Without taking his eyes off her he spoke into it. “Cort, get someone to take over the bar and come out to the parking lot. Bring Finn and Dobbs with you. And find out where the security guard went who was supposed to be on duty out here.”

She looked past him to the still empty security booth. “There was no one in it when I left the restaurant. Either this creep has lucky timing or your security isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Either way, someone has a lot to answer for.” Jake looked at the man on the ground, who was struggling to his feet, then back to the woman. “Feel like telling me what happened out here?”

“It’s not what it looked like, I swear.”

The man’s voice was familiar. Jake peered closer, recognized him as an occasional patron of the restaurant. Taylor something. No, Tyler. That was it. “And what do you think it looks like?”

“She was coming on to me. You know how it is, right?” The man gave him a sickly grin, talking so fast his words practically fell over themselves. “But when I met her out here like she asked, damned if she didn’t start talking price. Well, I’m not a guy who pays for it, you know? So things got kind of heated—”

“Stop,” Jake advised softly. He knew where the razor-edged fury he felt sprang from. There was a time when it had dictated his every thought, his every action. Surprising that ten years hadn’t really dulled it in the least. Surprising, and for this man, unfortunate.

“Uhh…Mr. Tarrance.”

Jake looked at the security guard, who had run up, his expression worried.

“Is there a problem?” The man asked. “I just stepped inside for a minute. I was feeling kinda sick. But I wasn’t gone longer than that, I swear.”

“You’re done here. Cort?” He addressed the other man that had appeared silently, already looming over the guard. “Be sure and escort our former employee off the premises.”

The guard took a sideways look at the bartender and inched away. “I swear, Mr. Tarrance, I think I got the flu or something. I never woulda left otherwise…”

“Really? Then you won’t mind if we go through your pockets.”

With a nod from Jake, the bartender quickly searched the man’s pants pockets, pulling out a folded fifty that looked a hell of a lot like a bribe.

Jake gave Cort a pointed glance. “I think you ought to drive him home. Have a little talk.”

The security guard was still protesting when the bartender took his elbow and led him, almost gently, away.

“Tyler, right?” Jake addressed the man still leaning heavily against a car, dusting off his pants.

His eyes darted nervously as Finn and Dobbs moved silently to flank him. “That’s right. Tyler Stodgill. Sorry about all this, but that’s the thing about women, huh?” He swallowed hard. “Nothing but trouble.”

He seemed to flinch in the face of Jake’s answering smile. “You might want to avoid this kind of trouble in the future. It doesn’t seem healthy. My men will take you to the hospital, get you checked out. Don’t worry. They’ll make sure your car gets there, too.”

For the first time real fear showed in the man’s expression, and he shook his head vigorously. “Hey, that’s not necessary. I’m okay. Really.”

“I insist. Insurance problems, you know.” Jake gave a what-can-you-do shrug. “You could be suffering from internal injuries. Those can be tricky.” He made a slight gesture and the two men closed in on Stodgill, his protests trailing behind him as they led him away.

The woman shot him a knowing look. “I have the distinct impression that although he doesn’t need a doctor now, he will when he arrives at the hospital.”

“Really?” Jake frowned, considering her words. “I could see how a person might think that, if he had a suspicious mind. And if he didn’t know what a kind-hearted philanthropist I am.”

The handkerchief she was dabbing gingerly at her nose muffled the snort she gave. He reached for her wrist, tugged it away from her face so he could survey the damage. “The bleeding has stopped. C’mon. I’ll take you somewhere you can clean up.”

“That’s not…” He heard a slight sound that might have been her teeth grinding as he cupped her elbow and herded her back toward the restaurant. “You’re pushy, you know that?”

“It’s been mentioned.” Inside the front doors, instead of entering the restaurant he took out his keys and used one to open the discreet private elevator on one wall. “But even given the fate suffered by your last admirer, I’m going risk it. You need some ice for that nose. And if I think it’s broken, you’re going to see a doctor, too.” He ushered her into the elevator and punched in a code. The doors slid closed silently.

“It’s not broken.”

He had a feeling that her words were laced with more determination than certainty, as if she could will them to be true. The woman had a spine of steel. His mouth quirked. And the self-defense moves of a ninja.

“We never got around to exchanging names.” He watched the wariness flicker across her face before she deliberately blanked it. “Mine’s Jake Tarrance.”

“Ria.”

He waited, but it was apparent that was all she was going to offer. With a mental shrug, he waited for the doors to slide open again, then put his hand to the base of her back to nudge her forward.

She went, crossing the large open room to the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that comprised the west wall. “Nice view.” She looked back at him. “Reflective glass?”

He stilled, shot her a look.

“No window treatments.” She waved a hand. “Either you’re an exhibitionist or the place was designed so you could enjoy the view while maintaining your privacy.”

“I do like my privacy.” He went to the kitchen and placed some crushed ice in a dish towel, then folded it into a makeshift ice pack. Returning, he passed it to her, taking the handkerchief from her hand. “For the swelling.” She pressed it to her face while he studied her. “So he jumped you on your way to your car?”

“I heard him behind me, but he was closer than I thought. Got in one good crack before I turned around.” Somehow Jake knew that fact would rankle her for a while. “At dinner he had difficulty understanding I wasn’t interested. Must have thought I’d find him more appealing in the dark.”

Jake’s fist closed, tightened. Ghosts from the past drifted through his memory, carrying with them the sound of distant screams. But Ria wouldn’t be the type of woman to cower in a corner while the blows rained down, heavy and punishing. Wouldn’t be the kind to make excuses for the man later, smiling through the bruises, with a look in her eyes that was half despair, half hope.

Consciously, he unclenched his fingers. Whatever else this woman was, she was no one’s victim. “Guess he found out otherwise.”

“You think?” A small satisfied smile settled on her lips, and lust punched through him, just as swift, just as savage as the first time he’d seen her in the restaurant. He knew almost nothing about the woman, but he knew he wanted her, all of her. He wanted to wipe that look of cool competence from her face, to shatter that wariness and have her attention focused only on him as he moved over her, inside her.

The strength of that vicious longing was unexpected enough to have all his well-constructed defenses slam into place. He wasn’t a man driven by impulse. Emotion-laden decisions led to vulnerabilities, and he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. He’d done very well without feeling much of anything at all for the last decade, and hadn’t been overly bothered by the void.

It also seemed a shame to develop an attachment for someone who might have to be killed later.

She could have been sent by Alvarez. It wouldn’t be the first time an attractive woman had been used to try and set him up. If so, the man had deviated from type this time. Ria was far subtler, both in looks and in manner. She hadn’t tried to gain his attention at the restaurant, although the scene outside it could have been a pretense.

Jake considered the thought as she rose and crossed the room to look at a collection of black-and-white photographs on the far wall. Alvarez knew him a bit better than Jake would have liked, and may have staged the scene, guessing how he’d react. But if that was the case, Jake doubted very much that the woman selected would end up beating the hell out of the guy.

The corner of his mouth lifted. No, whoever this woman was, he was willing to bet she hadn’t faked anything this evening. Not the spark of awareness that she’d almost successfully hidden. Not the instinctive guardedness that she made no effort to hide.

In any case, this place was swept for bugs daily. The code to the elevator was on a triple circuit pattern that changed upon each use. And Alvarez wouldn’t send anyone with lethal intent. He wanted Jake’s death to come from his own hand.

Some might consider Jake’s swift mental assessment as paranoid. But in his world, paranoia was a necessary tool for survival.

He joined her at the photographs, glancing at her as she stared fixedly at them. Most people found the stark images disturbing. They hadn’t been taken to capture beauty, or to celebrate life. But it was impossible to tell her opinion. Her face was expressionless. “You like photography?”

Ria didn’t answer at first. She couldn’t. They were the sort of photos that made her want to look away, the sort that wouldn’t allow her to dismiss them easily. At first glance they would seem disconnected shots. A close-up of a wino shivering in an alley. An old woman leaning out a tenement window. A barely clothed toddler sitting on a ramshackle stoop. A group of teens wearing gang colors and sullen masks.

“I thought at first they were random shots, but I was wrong. The look in the eyes of the subjects is the same. Desolation.” She recognized the expression easily enough. She’d faced it in the mirror more times than she wanted to think about. Noting his stillness, she felt comprehension dawn. “You took these yourself, didn’t you?”

“What makes you think so?”

After a last glance at the photos, she turned back toward the windows. “Because you have a way of looking through people.”

She wouldn’t want that cruelly discerning eye turned on her, she thought with vague discomfort. How many times had she felt like little more than a snapshot herself? A carefully presented picture developed to present the image she wished to display to the world. There might be character hinted at in her unsmiling demeanor, but if one were to examine her life, much as they’d hold up a photo to peer at it more closely, they’d find little more than what existed on that flimsy paper. No substance behind the image.

Because in every way that mattered, Ria really didn’t exist at all.

Walking to the large, well-equipped kitchen, she placed the ice pack in the sink and then turned to find Jake contemplating her from the arched doorway. “I should go.” The thought of her new home lacked appeal, but there was danger here, emotional rather than physical. She recognized the fact even as she wondered where that realization stemmed from.

“You don’t have to.” His pale blue eyes glittered with unmistakable intensity, but he made no move toward her. Whatever her decision, it would be hers to make. She could respect a man who didn’t push, despite the hunger apparent on his face.

“Yes.” Her voice was shakier than she’d like, matching her resolve. “I do.”

“You can’t go home like that. Let me get you a shirt.” He turned and walked into another room, while Ria headed toward the chair near the windows where she’d left her purse.

He caught up with her at the door, silently handing her a gray T-shirt with a faded Knicks logo. “Thanks.” She took it, appreciating the thought even though she had no intention of changing in front of him. They stared at each other for an instant, the moment awkward, thick with tension. She felt the wild and reckless beating of her pulse, and found it much harder than she’d like to ignore. If it had been due solely to animal attraction there would be no choice; she’d be in his bed, wrapped around him, using him to quench the heat in her blood.

But it wasn’t that simple. He wasn’t that simple. Instinct warned her of that. There was an undeniable connection between them that defied identification, and anything that couldn’t be coolly qualified and analyzed was to be avoided. Ria took plenty of risks, but only when she could control the situation. Jake Tarrance didn’t appear to be a man easily controlled.

So she tucked away need in the interest of safety. She opened the door, for the first time noticing the tiny cameras in the hallway. Most visitors wouldn’t observe them at all, but the miniscule whirls in the oak paneling high on the walls appeared just a little too uniform. He was a careful man. She assumed he had cause to be.

Jake followed her out silently, produced the key that unlocked the elevator. When the door opened, she stepped inside it, turned to face him. He punched in the code that would have carried her away from him. But just as the doors began to slide shut, he stepped forward and slapped his hand over the button that would stop them.

One of his business sidelines—by far the most lucrative one—dealt with rarities of unparalleled value. So he recognized the uniqueness of the woman who was bent on leaving, even if he couldn’t have described where the quality came from.

Bracing his hands on either side of the entrance, he leaned in for a taste of her. If this was the last time he’d see her, he’d damn well have this much.

He pressed her lips apart with his, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, and felt the hunger lunge inside him. His fingers clenched on the open elevator doors. It took physical effort to keep from reaching for her. Her flavor was foreign, an intoxicating mixture of desire and caution, but there was a response there to match his own.

Kindred spirits. The phrase drifted across his mind, even awash as it was in a fog of frustrated lust. Something in him recognized a part of her, a part she would have denied existed. Most solitary people were that way by nature, or became so by circumstances.

Then there were people like them, he thought, who allowed circumstance to dictate nature, until the two were so entwined it was impossible to say where one left off and the other began.

Ria gave in to a rare moment of self-indulgence and opened her mouth beneath his. He knew how to kiss a woman, with a single-minded intensity that stripped them both down to their most elemental levels, male and female. He knew how to take while still giving riotous pleasure, sensual hints of the erotic satisfaction to be had if she let passion have its way.

This wouldn’t be an easy man to walk away from, although she had every intention of doing just that. But one taste couldn’t hurt, could it? Even if it whipped her blood to churning whitecaps and incinerated her control? Every move she made in life was calculated, with the benefits and risks carefully weighed. Stealing a few minutes with an exciting stranger seemed relatively harmless.

But there was nothing harmless about the flames licking through her veins. Absorbing his intoxicating taste was like diving headlong into dark fire.

Without conscious thought she moved closer and caught his full lower lip in her teeth. Scoring it lightly, she felt a measure of restraint slip away. His answering kiss was hard, demanding, but he made no further move toward her. The muscles in the wall of his chest were bunched tightly, his hands still pressed against the open doors.

Emboldened, she leaned against him, took the kiss deeper. How long had it been, she thought fuzzily, since she’d last felt a fever in the blood, temptation stripping layers off her defenses? Had she ever?

This scorching heat was its own kind of seduction for a woman who spent her life—what she could remember of it—in the cold. It was unlikely their paths would cross again. The idea was tantalizing. Despite the shadowy aura of danger that surrounded him, there was something soothing in his very anonymity.

The rationalization shredded caution, struck down logic. He angled his mouth over hers, the pressure almost punishing. The purse and T-shirt dropped from her hands, and she slid her arms around his neck.

The restraint he’d been exerting snapped abruptly. She was pulled against him, the move shattering any sense that she could control this. The kiss turned rawly primitive, even as he walked her backward to press her against the wall of the elevator, sealing their bodies together. Currents of electricity sizzled and crackled between them. One of his hands settled at her nape as his mouth ravished hers, as if to coax her even closer, and he widened his stance so that she was standing between his legs.

He tore his mouth away from hers to bury it at her throat. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” His voice was low, harsh.

“I know.” Her answer was nearly a moan, as she arched her neck to allow him better access.

“You, too?”

There was a part of her that wanted to withhold assent, but that would have been pointless. He was a man experienced enough to recognize that the instant attraction that had sparked between them was mutual. And her response to him now was its own answer. “Yes—”

The word stopped on a gasp when he nipped at the sensitive cord of her neck. His tongue soothed the sting in the next instant. “So stay.”

It was a demand rather than a plea, and the carnal promise implicit in it made her stomach clutch. He knew exactly how to touch her, his mouth slightly rough, his palm burning the bare skin of her nape, his fingers tangling in her hair. As close as they were, she could feel the unmistakable hard ridge of his erection pressing against the notch between her thighs. She wouldn’t have to hold back with him; she could respond with every bit of the explosive arousal churning through her, and he would meet it, match it. But still she was vaguely surprised to hear herself answer, “For a while.”

A low sound was torn from him. She felt cool air against her skin and realized dimly that he’d unknotted her ruined shirt. With a quick jerk he had it open, the remaining buttons flying, and his impatience called to a streak of wildness in her, one she was usually careful to keep deeply buried.

There was so little in her life she could claim as her own. Only memories garnered from the last six years. Certainly not her identity, which she’d stolen from another. But this moment was hers. Personal and genuine, it was hers to keep, to remember, to experience to the fullest.

His tongue was tracing the mounds of her breasts where they swelled above the top of her bra as he pushed the blouse from her shoulders, to pool forgotten on the floor of the elevator. Her hands went to his shirt, jerking it impatiently from the waistband of his pants, her fingers flying over the buttons.

When she had them undone, she smiled, satisfied, her breath coming a little faster. The wall of his chest was firm, muscled and bisected by a patch of dark hair. His stomach was hard and ridged. He’d work out, she thought, for the same reason she did—to keep instincts alert and body prepared for whatever dangers awaited. But whatever the reason, the sight of all those well-honed muscles sharpened her desire to a keen edge.

His hands were undoing the clasp of her bra when she leaned forward, tested one hard pec with her teeth. His flesh jumped beneath her lips. Her sudden surge of satisfaction at his involuntary reaction fractured in the next moment when he pulled the straps of her bra down her arms and tossed it aside. Bending his head, he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked strongly.

Colors pinwheeled against her closed eyelids. Her knees went to water. His mouth worked at her ravenously, one hand kneading her other breast, his thumb flicking across her nipple to urge it to a tauter point.

Her muscles took on the consistency of melting wax. To brace herself, she hooked a leg around his hips. With increasing urgency she battled with his shirt, pushing it off his heavy shoulders, over his bulging biceps. Because he wouldn’t release her, it remained trapped there, halfway down his arms. Her palms raced over the expanse of flesh she’d bared, exploring the different textures of smooth skin and crisp hair over unforgiving bone and sinew.

There was a primal sort of sensuality to be enjoyed through touch alone. Her hands roamed his torso, discovering every angle and hollow. She traced the shallow indentations between his ribs, scraped a nail over his nipple and was rewarded by his quick shudder.

He raised his head, and when the cool air struck her nipple, still wet from his mouth, she shivered. With quick movements, he struggled out of his shirt, then put both hands under her butt to lift her. Ria clasped her legs around his waist and he carried her that way back into his apartment, swinging the door closed behind them.

Their mouths did battle, tongues darting, teeth clashing as hunger mounted. She slid her hands into his hair to pull him closer, and felt the hot ball of need knot tighter in the pit of her stomach.

When her shoulders were pressed against a cool smooth surface, she arched her back and dazedly opened her eyes. Rather than his bedroom, they were in the dimly lit living area, her back to a window. Then Jake’s gaze caught hers, and her pulse stuttered.

His eyes glittered, intent and predatory. His hair was mussed from her hands, his cheeks flushed with arousal, his expression faintly savage. Her heart pumped, heavy and fast. A normal woman would be having second thoughts, feeling an innately feminine fear in the face of his unvarnished desire.

But Ria reveled in it. It called forth her own unchecked response. There was no holding back; he wouldn’t have allowed that even if she’d tried. She could let her own passion rage and know it would be returned in like measure.