Kitabı oku: «Red Shoes and A Diary», sayfa 2
“Allow me.” He wiggled his brows and placed one hand on the wall behind her head. “Are you concealing anything? Stolen pillow mints? Pilfered matchbooks?”
His eyes challenged her while his other hand reached out. She held his stare with effort when he stroked his fingertips down her bare arm. Butterflies trembled in her stomach and she gasped softly when he lowered his head.
Omigod. He’s going to kiss me.
She flattened a palm against his chest to stop him. Heat radiated through the bright fabric and her pulse accelerated to match the beating of his heart. Then the sensual light went out of his eyes, replaced by something akin to confusion.
Did he think she was a tease? She wanted to play fast and loose this week, she really did. Just not quite so soon. If she let him keep advancing, they might end up doing it right here on the floor. Hmm. Actually… No, not yet.
Nick looked down at her hand, then back into her eyes. The intimacy of the touch unsettled her and she snatched her fingers away. Uptight. Inexperienced. Embarrassed.
“The only contraband I have is the soap and the herbal shampoo.” Ducking under his extended arm, she darted toward the bedroom to repack.
“Speaking of things that ought to be illegal…”
Hearing the smoky familiarity in his tone, she turned back in time to see him come out of the living room. Her brows furrowed in curiosity, then shot up in alarm. Would the humiliation of this day never end?
“Guess you’ll be needing these back.” Nick held out one sculpted arm, dangling her bra and panties from his hand. He casually stroked his thumb over her intimate wear.
His fingers grazed the edge of Elise’s panties, tickling the sensitive skin along her inner thigh, before sliding inside… Meghan blinked, tried to refocus. The corner of Nick’s mouth quirked and the look in his eyes was pure mischief, as if he suspected her reaction and dared her to come closer to the source.
Okay. She could do this. Lifting her chin, she threw back her shoulders and walked toward him. He skimmed his fingers across her palm when he returned her lingerie. Another hot current passed between them.
A rush of anxiety immediately followed.
What was she doing flirting with a guy like Nick? He could have any woman he wanted. So what mental disorder made her think he’d waste time on her? Loneliness and longing twisted her heart, overwhelmed her. She was boring, she was frigid—she was doing it again.
Meghan slammed the self-doubt aside, concentrated instead on her mission. The plan was to find an attractive man and then entice him into spending the next week indulging in decadent pleasures. Well, she’d found a guy and he was perfect. Nick was everything she imagined the fantasy lover in her diary to be. His dangerously compelling gaze made her yearn for wild excitement and erotic adventure.
Ask him.
She cleared her throat and prepared to inject a sensuous note into her voice. Then she hesitated, not yet braced for rejection, unwilling to make herself vulnerable. No matter how much she wanted to live out her fantasies, things were moving too fast. She should at least make sure he wasn’t an ax murderer before she tried to take him to bed.
Meghan flicked her gaze away and slid the garments out of his hand. She couldn’t bear to meet his eye and see his reaction to her failed attempt at seduction. “Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure.” His rich voice held more than a hint of innuendo. “You know, you didn’t strike me as the red lace type.”
She pressed her lips together and shoved her glasses back onto her nose. Maybe she wasn’t a Sex Goddess yet, but Elise sure was. Red lace underwear and enough attitude to bring any man to his knees. Including Nick.
“You don’t know me well enough to decide what type I am.” Her voice quavered despite her effort to sound confident. She turned on her heel and went into the bedroom. After dropping her tote bag, she hauled open the nearest suitcase and shoved the lingerie inside.
Old heartache welled up inside her, fueled by memories of shyness and humiliation, fanned by self-doubt and fear. She never seemed to fit in anywhere, not even in her own skin.
ALEX WATCHED the fire die out, watched Meghan pull into herself. He was more intrigued than ever. The lady was a walking contradiction. Those journal entries were hot enough to ignite the pages. But now she acted like she wanted to be invisible.
How in the hell could this be the same woman?
Leaning one hip against the dresser, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. Meghan Elise Foster from Baltimore wasn’t at all what he’d expected. The description he’d gotten from housekeeping didn’t do her justice.
Short, brown curls framed an interesting face. Behind the wire-rimmed glasses, her eyes were the color of a good single-malt scotch. Warm and sparkling with intelligence. Her golden skin was flawless, highlighted by the sweet flush coloring her cheeks. She had freckles on her nose and a stubborn set to her chin.
Her small, but perfectly formed breasts would fit nicely in the palms of his hands. She had round hips, a great butt and her shapely legs went on forever. He was dying to find out how they’d feel wrapped around his waist.
Moving gracefully around the room, she was doing her best to pretend he wasn’t there. But the frequent glances from under her lashes gave her away. Alex grinned. She was trying way too hard to ignore him. Damned if he would let her. He drifted closer, narrowing the space between them.
“Need any help?”
“I can manage, thank you.”
She gathered her cotton T-shirts, linen shorts, and plain black swimsuit out of the dresser. The neatly folded clothing was just as neatly repacked into the suitcase. She brushed past him, unnecessarily close, and her exotic scent filled his senses. Like getting socked in the gut without warning.
“What’s your perfume called?”
She looked over, startled by the question. “It’s body oil, actually. Calendula flower.”
“It suits you.”
“Oh, really. How so?” Wary curiosity laced her tone.
He cocked his head to one side, assessing what he’d learned about her so far. “Sweet, with an unexpected hint of spice.”
She grinned at him, obviously pleased by the description. The shallow dimple added character to an already pretty smile. Alex wanted to feel that mouth all over his body. Lord have mercy, those lush curving lips could get a man into serious trouble.
And “trouble” was just how he thought of her. He had a job to do, had to prove himself to the DEA all over again. He’d been trained to handle every situation with a cool, clear head. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, wasn’t supposed to lose control. Her kind of distraction he didn’t need.
His body disagreed. Firmly.
When she picked up the cherry-red “seduce me” sandals, his imagination went into overdrive. He saw her laid out on his bed, wearing the sandals and nothing else, reading her journal to him in that soft husky voice. He shifted to ease the pressure on his zipper.
Alex reached into the open dresser, pulled out a nightgown she’d forgotten in the corner. The white silk whispered through his fingers. He held it up by its thin straps, easily picturing the delicate material against her tawny skin.
“What I said before didn’t come out right. I just assumed a classy lady like yourself wore white or pink or cream.”
“And so you were right.”
He noticed her pulse flutter in her throat as he prowled toward her. “But I’ll bet the red lace looks incredible on you.”
“Yes, it does.”
She held his gaze boldly, like she was testing him instead of the other way around. A wild passion burned through the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him and suddenly he recognized her. She was “Elise,” the real woman hiding inside that killer body. No question.
“Why don’t you show me?”
“Why don’t we leave some things to the imagination? I’m not in the habit of letting strangers see me in my underwear.”
“Lady, those teeny scraps of cloth don’t have enough room for my imagination.”
He’d never reacted to a woman like this before. He wanted to strip away the contradictory layers down to the hot babe hiding inside. Uncovering secrets was his business and he wanted to discover hers, despite his mission and the possibility that she was somehow involved.
Meghan didn’t seem like the type to be working for the cartel. Still, he didn’t like coincidences. And recent events had taught him about deception. If she worked for Braga, he’d find out soon enough. If not, he’d allow himself the brief pleasure of her company before concentrating on his job.
Alex stood close, deliberately invading her space, brushing his index finger across her lower lip. Her eyes widened and her quick intake of breath was one of the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. He held her gaze, dared her to look away.
“Spend the night with me. Then we won’t be strangers.”
3
In fantasies, I can be anyone I want, do anything I please. I can follow my impulses and indulge my wildest desires. Best of all, my fantasies are completely anonymous.
MEGHAN UNPACKED her suitcases for the second time that day. “Well, it’s been anything but boring so far.”
“What do you mean?” The charms on Julie’s bracelet jingled as she flipped her hair over one shoulder.
“First, a gnome propositioned me and you made me into this week’s charity case. Then, I had to wrestle my underwear away from a modern-day pirate.”
Julie let out a peal of laughter. “A gnome and a pirate? I don’t remember including them in our advertising brochure.”
“The gnome isn’t important.” She opened a drawer and laid her lingerie inside. “As for the pirate, he’s the gorgeous guy whose suite I checked into by mistake.”
“He wasn’t wearing your underwear, I hope.”
“No, he only fondled it.” Instantly, she recalled the sight of her bright red panties draped over Nick’s olive skin—and her burning desire to be wearing the lingerie the next time he got his hands on it.
“I can only imagine how my straitlaced big sister must have reacted! What did you say to him?”
Meghan affected a nonchalant tone. Jules was so easy to tease. “I agreed to spend the night with him.”
“Excuse me?”
“He asked me to have dinner with him.”
“Oh.” She sat back in the chair and reached for another piece of the almond-crusted brie. “That’s a relief. I thought you meant—”
“I’m planning to take him for a lover.”
“Excuse me?” Julie’s voice rose to a squeak and she dropped the cheese back onto the tray.
“I said—”
“I heard you.” She shook her head, her tone emphatic. “You are not serious.”
Meghan planted her hands on both hips and answered with a steely resolve. “I’m quite serious. He’s great-looking, charming and very sexy. I think Nick would be a perfect lover.”
“You’ve never taken a wrong step in your entire life. I doubt you’ll start now.” Julie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand and picked up her cheese again. “You need a nice, steady guy with a house and a dog, a guy who’ll be loyal and dependable.”
“Based on that description, I should just get the dog. I’m not looking for a relationship, Jules.”
“That’s great, except you’re not the kind of woman who takes a lover.”
“Everyone keeps assuming they know what type of person I am. Did it ever occur to you that you don’t know me at all?”
Julie stared at her. “But it’s not like you to be impulsive or reckless. For thirteen years, after Dad deserted us, you held our family together. Mom depended on you for everything and you practically raised me, even though we’re only two years apart.”
Meghan ignored the bitterness seeping into her gut. The past couldn’t be undone, no matter how she wished it could. She kept her tone even when she spoke. “I’ve always done what other people expected of me, rarely what I wanted to do—”
“I know that, Megs, and I’m sorry. But don’t think it goes unappreciated. Mom and I wouldn’t have made it without your support.”
“Well, now that you’ve got this great job and Mom is in love again, it’s finally my turn to have a life. There’s an urgent need building inside me. A need to be reckless and daring, to be swept away into a passionate affair.”
“You’re a nice girl—”
“I don’t want to be a nice girl! I want to be bad.” She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. “I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve never done anything exciting or unexpected. This week is my chance.”
Julie spoke with quiet firmness. “Megs, you wouldn’t even know how.”
“Is it really so far-fetched to think I could find a boy toy, use his body for my personal pleasure, then walk away with a smile on my face?”
“Yes, it is.”
Frustration and resentment stabbed at her. She was getting advice on her love life from her younger sister, who’d not only dated more, but gotten married first. How wrong was that?
“There’s so much locked up inside me, Jules. I can’t really put it into words. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder who that woman is and I’m afraid she’s the ice princess Rob described.”
“You’re nothing like that, Megs! You’re warm and sweet—”
She walked toward the window, not wanting to see Julie’s reaction as she bared her secret. “Maybe this seems crazy, but I need to do this. I want to be impulsive and wild. I want to be a real woman who isn’t afraid of her sexuality.”
A woman like Elise.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’re brave.” She turned back to see Julie smiling in admiration. “If this is what you really want, then go for it.”
Meghan grinned in relief. It had been hard to admit that she wasn’t the perfect upstanding older sister after all. Feeling lighter for having shared her burden, she reached for the crab quiche on the hors d’oeuvres tray. Foster women never let emotion interfere with food.
“So, can you turn me into a seductress?” She’d had the idea before arriving at Cayo Sueño, but now that she’d met Nick, she needed a specific plan.
“Of course.” Julie took the last egg roll. “But not with the stuff you just took out of those suitcases.”
Meghan studied her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She could stand to lose ten pounds, but her figure wasn’t bad. Her overall image was classic, professional, conservative—not exactly seductress material.
“I love the underwear, Megs, it’s great. But the outer you needs to reflect the inner you. If you’re going to be a sexpot, you’ll have to dress like one.”
“I quit my job, Jules. This isn’t the time for me to spend money on a new wardrobe.”
“I’ll lend you some of my clothes. Come by my cottage before dinner, and I’ll do your makeup, too. We’re going to make you irresistible and then find the man of your dreams!”
Nick was the man she wanted. Tall, dark and handsome with a dynamic personality and a very nice rear end, he was pure sex in a really ugly shirt. He was so much like her fantasy man it was scary. Well, except for the shirt.
“Okay, let’s talk about this fabulous guy.” Julie walked into the living room and took out a sheet of the resort’s stationery.
Meghan stood beside the chair, tilting her head to see over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making a list of necessary traits for Mr. Fabulous. This way you can narrow down your search.”
“I’ve already made my choice.”
“Then, tonight at dinner you can see if Nick qualifies.” Julie looked up as she explained. “He’s got to be romantic. You know, the gift-for-no-reason and flowers-just-because type.”
Meghan didn’t really care about this. She just wanted to have great sex. Then again, being pursued and persuaded might be fun, too.
Julie went on. “He’s also got to be sensitive, so you feel comfortable exploring new sexual frontiers with him. Most importantly, he’s got to be ugly.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Leaning over, she tried to grab the pen away. “Nick is not ugly. Far from it.”
Julie wrestled the pen back. “According to all the talk shows, an ugly man won’t ever cheat. He’ll be too grateful a beautiful woman like you deigned to notice him.”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “What kind of crazy list are you making?”
“Okay, you can find Mr. Fabulous by yourself.”
She picked up the paper. In addition to romantic and sensitive, Julie had written adventurous, daring, heroic. A deep sorrow filled her. It was a description of her late brother-in-law. She looked over at Julie.
“I loved him and I miss him, too, but—”
Her sister met her gaze with a sad smile. “It’s all right to say Kyle’s name.”
Memories of him flooded her mind, along with her own guilt over the way he died. “I’m sorry, Jules. It’s just that I’m not looking for a man who chases after danger. Like you said, I need someone I’ll be safe with.”
“Nobody understands your fears better than me. I’ll always be grateful for the times you came over to stay with me. It wasn’t easy being married to a cop, living every day in uncertainty, wondering every night if he would come home.” Her voice was edged with grief. “But I wouldn’t trade a single day we were together, despite how things ended.”
“Oh, Jules.”
Understanding passed between them as Julie wiped a hand under her eyes. “But, hey, you’re not looking for a husband anyway. Come on, let’s get back to Mr. Fabulous.”
Grateful to change the subject, Meghan took out a fresh sheet of paper. She silently made out a list that included her real wishes, as well as a number of silly qualities guaranteed to make Julie smile again.
“Okay, Mr. Fabulous has to be worldly. I want to be able to discuss current events and world politics.”
“You hate politics, and when was the last time you read a newspaper?” Julie tried to grab the paper from her.
Meghan held on and continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “He also has to be intelligent, sensitive, romantic, successful, virile, sexy and prompt.”
“Prompt? Give me a break. Come on, admit it. All you really want is a guy who (a)looks like a fashion model and (b)makes love like a porn star.”
They both dissolved into peals of laughter. After catching her breath, Julie glanced at her watch and winced. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’m hosting a party by the Cascade Pool tonight and there’s still a lot to do.”
Meghan wrapped both arms around her sister in a fierce hug. “Thank you again. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“I’m so glad you’re here. You’re going to have a great week!” Julie kissed her cheek. “Hey, why don’t you come to the party? It’s the perfect place to look for Mr. Fabulous if Nick doesn’t work out.”
“I think Nick will work out just fine.”
Meghan smiled as she closed the door. She couldn’t wait to do the Cinderella thing. She was half scared and half excited, but totally committed. Tonight would be the beginning of something wonderful. She took a small green paisley book from her tote bag and went out on the balcony.
The man she dreamed about now had a face and a name. She leaned her head back against the chair, let her eyelids drift shut and let the fantasy sweep her away. Moments later, she opened her eyes, grabbed her pen, and flipped to the first page of her new diary.
The words flew across the paper as she tried to capture the image in her mind. Nick’s green eyes shimmer with an inner fire as he stares at Elise. When he speaks, his one-word command is rough with desire. “Strip,” he says and she slowly peels off her dress…
ALEX GRABBED a cold beer out of the minibar and headed for the balcony. As he passed through the living room he considered putting that champagne into the fridge, but he’d probably never drink the stuff. Then he noticed Meghan’s blue journal on the coffee table.
His conscience pricked him over keeping the book of fantasies. He assumed Meghan had been too distracted to remember, but he couldn’t forget it. He picked it up and, with perfect recall, imagined the entry he read before, except now the man and woman beneath the waterfall were him and Meghan.
He plundered her sweet mouth and slid her wet, naked body onto his, listening to her cry out in pleasure… He glanced at his watch and decided he had time to read a little more.
A while later, Alex reached for his beer. His mouth had gone dry about six pages ago. The bottle was empty. He wasted a couple of seconds debating whether to get another one. Instead, he lit a cigarette, then turned the page to the next entry. Just one more…
He got caught up in the wildly erotic scenes she’d created. As he read, he couldn’t help but compare the journal personality to the real woman. A profile emerged and he figured he had Meghan pegged. Smart, well-educated, middle-class professional. Sexual dynamite primed to blow a hole through the heart of the first man who touched her the right way. He wanted to be that man.
As he crushed out the half-smoked cigarette, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that it was all an act. The journal, the seductive innocence, the blushing attempts to flirt. Everything could have been carefully calculated to get past his defenses. After that mess in Overtown, Braga would be wary of another double-cross.
Alex closed the journal as the evening shadows stretched farther across the balcony, tilting his head to ease the kink in his neck. He also needed to ease the bulge in his jeans before meeting Meghan for dinner.
After a quick but satisfying shower, he shaved and got dressed. He slipped the journal into the breast pocket of his sports jacket on his way out the door, wondering whether to return it before or after they ate. He stepped off the elevator and walked across the lobby to the small lounge just off the atrium. He scanned the cocktail-hour crowd until he spotted Meghan at a corner table.
Whoa.
She wore a pale-pink dress that flowed over her body like water. He could see that the open buttons at the neckline revealed the swell of her breasts. The short skirt rode up her thighs, showing off the length of caramel skin. Her shapely calves crossed at the ankles and her feet were bare. Another pair of “seduce me” sandals lay abandoned under the table.
Alex forced his gaze to her face. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. She’d done something to make those gorgeous brown eyes appear smoky, mysterious. Her lips were painted a slick, glossy pink. Just looking at her was getting him hard again.
What was she wearing under that dress? The black lace bikini set? No, it would show through the pink fabric. The white satin one was more likely. Smiling as he moved toward her, he could just imagine the smooth material covering her sexy—
Alex stopped abruptly.
He was so focused on Meghan he didn’t see the man sitting with her—a man he knew very well. Memories assaulted him and he closed his eyes briefly. Gunshots. Chaos. The smell of blood. Blinding pain. The scar on his temple started throbbing and a wave of nausea swept over him.
He slid behind a marble pillar, waiting for the anxiety to pass but keeping Meghan in sight. He studied Rogelio Braga’s salt-and-pepper hair, impeccable tailoring, old world manners. If he wasn’t a drug trafficking felon, Alex might even have liked him.
He touched his fingers to the book in his jacket. To think he’d been sorry about deceiving her.
His gut twisted again. His hope that she wasn’t connected with the cartel vanished as he watched her laugh at something Braga said. Were they discussing him, and how she’d played him? Braga had invited “Nicholas” to Cayo Sueño in appreciation of him saving the man’s life. Ms. Foster, if that was really her name, must be the reward after all. Shit!
He wanted to believe Meghan wasn’t part of this, that the room mix-up was pure coincidence. But, thinking about the woman in her journal, he acknowledged that she was doing one hell of a job hiding her true personality. He must be losing his edge to have been taken in so easily.
Alex watched Braga place his hand on her forearm as he spoke. When Meghan nodded, he got up and walked away. She sat quietly for a moment before looking around the cocktail lounge. Her eyes moved in his direction and Alex stepped out from behind the pillar.
She waved eagerly when she spotted him. If she were for real, he’d have cherished the greeting. Instead, he was pissed off that he’d fallen for the act, fallen for her. He scrutinized her as he strode toward the table. There was nothing but genuine pleasure in her smile, no pretence or deceit.
Lord, let him be wrong.
“Hi, Nick!” She indicated the chair beside hers. “I was beginning to wonder if you stood me up.”
Nick. Yeah, that’s right. We both have roles to play, don’t we? He lowered himself into the seat, keeping his gaze fixed on her face. “You didn’t look lonely.”
“What? Oh. That was just small talk. I wasn’t planning to throw you over for him.” She gave him a teasing smile and her hands fluttered to her lap. She seemed giddy, nervous. Guilty?
“Who was he?” Even as he said it, the flat inflection of his tone revealed more than he intended.
Meghan blinked in surprise. “Nobody. He just recognized me from the welcome reception.”
He studied her carefully, but didn’t see any of the physical signs he’d been trained to look for. Then again, his instincts about women had failed him before. “You seemed to be pretty deep in conversation.”
“You seem to notice a lot for someone who just showed up.”
He acknowledged her quick retort with a slight grin. As far as he could figure, she was neither lying nor being evasive. For the moment. “Sorry. Army recon habits die hard.”
The frown lines cleared from her brow, as did the tension in her shoulders. She leaned to one side of her chair, her elbow resting on the arm. The shift caused her dress to gap slightly, giving him a nice view of the lace edges of her pink bra.
He didn’t remember her having this much cleavage. She must be wearing one of those lift-up push-together things. Not that he minded. She looked great. He just wanted to know why.
“So what were you two talking about?”
“He was telling me about the ruins on the east side of the island. Apparently, he’s a regular guest here at the resort.”
“He was just following Julie’s advice, huh? Making sure you have a good time? I thought that was my job.”
His gaze followed the fingers of one hand as she traced circles over the opposite wrist. Her gestures had a different energy tonight. Either her innate sensuality had been unleashed or the move was well rehearsed. Against his better judgment, he was seriously turned on. Meghan wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore some erotic fantasies.
“You haven’t been hired yet.” She angled her head and regarded him from across the table. Her hot-pink lips tilted in a haughty smirk. “First of all, there’s a dress code.”
“Hey, this is one of my favorite shirts.” He held open one side of his sports jacket to give her a better view of the green-and-orange pattern.
“I’d hate to see what you passed over. All you need is a parrot and a rapier to complete the look.”
More fantasies. More games. Fine. He was willing if it got his badge restored. He lowered his voice to an intimate level. “If you don’t like it, I’ll take it off. We can play the Lusty Pirate and the Tavern Wench.”
“That sounds like an interesting fantasy.”
“It’s one of many. I’ll tell you some other ones later.”
With a delighted grin, she leaned back in her chair. “Okay, the job is yours. How much do you charge?”
“I work on the barter system. Why don’t we start the negotiations over dinner?” He stood and went around to her chair.
“I should warn you, I intend to drive a hard bargain.”
He chuckled. “Let the games begin.”
Alex extended his hand to help her up, glad for the chance to touch her. Holding Meghan’s soft fingers while she slipped her sandals back on, he was again treated to a glimpse of her cleavage. When she stood, their eyes met briefly and he knew she’d flashed him on purpose.
More than her looks had been revamped. Whatever the cause, he really liked her new confidence. A bold sensuality hummed just below the surface. The new Meghan was a woman sure of herself and her appeal.
Alex matched his gait to hers as they walked across the lobby toward Breezes, the outdoor restaurant. He admired the view as she strode ahead of him, head high and shoulders back. That sexy little swing to her hips sent a shudder of longing through him.
Meghan glanced over one shoulder, her whiskey-colored eyes twinkling as if she wanted to make sure he was watching. Alex couldn’t have looked away if he tried. And, by the smug little grin on her pretty mouth, she knew it.
Yeah. He definitely liked the change. Trouble was dangerously fascinating.
But at the same time, her transition was so swift and so complete, he had to question it. Besides, the last thing he needed was to get involved with a possible suspect. Internal Affairs would just love that.
He swept his gaze around the restaurant, cataloguing faces as he scanned the diners. He saw Rogelio Braga approach the bar across the veranda with two other men. One he recognized as a known trafficker from the hot sheets at the Miami office, but he didn’t know the third.
He looked back at Meghan.
Maybe he’d jumped to conclusions. Her conversation with Braga could have been as innocent as she’d made out. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Either way, Alex intended to hold on to her journal for a while longer. It was the best way to find out who she really was.
He’d also ask his partner to do a background check. He had to know if she was involved with the Miami cartel. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Something about her touched him on a level he’d almost forgotten existed. His interest was personal.
