“I’m on it.” All in the line of duty, right? The whole point was to make this look real. He reached around and his fingers brushed the back clasp. Could be his hands were shaky, but the damn thing eluded him. He put his palms on top of her thighs and settled her on his lap. “You’re a moving target. Sit still for a minute.”Her hands returned to his shoulders. He leaned forward to complete his assignment, inadvertently rasping her shoulder with his jaw. Her little shiver of reaction sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. Sweat rolled into his eyes. He squeezed them shut and counted to ten, trying to get himself under control.“There we go,” he murmured, opening his eyes and leaning back. Annabelle didn’t move a muscle, but her shuddery exhale sent the bra straps sliding down her arms, revealing her breasts in all their glory. Choking back a groan, he lowered his hands to his sides, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her, all up close and personal.Her small, pink
“Your memory seems to have improved tremendously in the last couple days,” he observed, shifting closer.“I’ve had plenty of time to think about my clients since Saturday. You’d be surprised what you can remember about someone when you’re considering whether he might be a killer.”He closed the file folder and nodded. Lighter, sun-burnished strands of his hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights. “Let’s cut to the chase then. Do any of these men worry you?”“No. My VIPs are harmless.”His brows shot up, speculatively. “I don’t know if we can trust your judgment there. After all, Carlos Chan and Arthur Montero weren’t exactly harmless. One pulled you offstage. The other did something during a private dance that convinced you to have him bounced.”She’d said as much to Annabelle and was prepared to provide the same reply she’d received. “Carlos was drunk when he pulled me offstage. He didn’t normally drink much, but for some reason he overindulged that evening. The alcohol made him clu
“I’m not—” She broke off. Those consuming eyes of his interfered with her ability to craft a lame explanation. Shifting her attention to the center of his chest, she tried again. “I’m not at a place, at this point in my life, where I can date.”He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and stared at her for several seconds. “You’re afraid,” he finally said, his voice a combination of disbelief and certainty. “A woman brave enough to follow her conscience into a dark parking lot at two thirty in the morning is scared to follow her heart toward something right in front of her.”Her heart felt like an anchor at the moment, heavy in her chest, incapable of leading her anywhere. When she didn’t reply, he dropped his hand and gave a small, humorless laugh. “You’re a tough one, Annabelle Belmonte, and yet something this simple scares you to death. I don’t know why I’m surprised. You’ve been a bundle of contradictions from the start.”“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and forced herself t
It took a few seconds. Finally, she raised her eyes to his and said, “What you’re doing is not an investigation. It’s not even a plan. It’s suicide.” Her adorable chin trembled and sent a funny contraction straight through his heart. “You’re crazy if you think I’m just going to stand by and let put yourself squarely in a killer’s sights.”She was worried for him. A wave of tenderness washed over him, startling him almost as much as her concern. “That’s exactly where you are, Annabelle. I thought you could use some company.”“Think again,” she shot back and struggled against him. “I’m telling Val I won’t dance for you anymore.”“No, you’re not.” He flexed his quads and scooted her forward in his lap. Her thighs draped over his, her plush breasts welled against his chest. The coconut-vanilla scent of her made his senses swim. Following a wayward impulse, he leaned close and found her ear with his lips, enjoying a flare of satisfaction when she inhaled swiftly. “I’m not some clueless cli
Before she could find her tongue, Ben got up, walked over, and stood beside Tommy. Apprehension coiled her gut. Tommy towered over her by more than half a foot and outweighed her by a good hundred pounds of solid, hard-packed muscle, but Ben had him by at least three inches and fifty pounds.“Now you’re confused about the rules,” the big man. “She don’t need to say a word. You back off when I say so. I’m saying so right now.”Tommy’s eyes never left hers. “What do you say, Annabelle? Want me to back off?” He didn’t let go of her arm.Fear froze her heart in her chest. She knew what he was trying to do—provoke a confrontation with Benjamin and get kicked out—and she desperately wanted to stop him. Forcing a laugh, she shook her head. “Don’t be stupid.”She smiled at Ben, and said, “Thanks. I’ve got this handled.”Ben didn’t return her smile, but he took a step back and looked at his watch. “This dance is over, and we close in fifteen minutes. Finish your business.”Much to her relief,
He hid his smile behind a sip of coffee. “I’ll have to work on her.” Thinking a moment, he added, “Maybe create an opportunity, too. Tomorrow night I’ll hang out after closing and drive her home.”“What if she says no?”“She won’t. I’ll tell her I need to speak with her about the investigation, which is true.”“So, you think her self-appointed protector will watch you two leave together and the sight will push him over the edge?”“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. But somebody always walks the girls to their cars, so at least one person from Phoenix will see us leave together. According to Valentine, Annabelle doesn’t hook up with customers, so word of her breaking tradition should spread pretty quickly. If the killer doesn’t see us tomorrow night, possibly he’ll hear something through the grapevine. That alone might be enough to compel this guy to make a move on me. Especially if I can convince Annabelle to come in to work on Saturday and tell everyone I turned out to be a prick. Then,
Straight to hell, Tommy thought, where he’d been since last Friday night when he’d arrived at the scene of a homicide and found himself drowning in the deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen.Those same eyes faced him now, holding a fascinating mixture of anger, desire, and fear. Anger and desire he could handle, give back in spades, but the fear clutched at him. Was she afraid of a killer at large? Afraid someone might discover whatever secret she guarded? Or was she afraid of him?Instead of asking, he gave her directions to his place, and then sat back and let the silence balloon while she drove. Sure, it was a psych 101 tactic, but often effective. People—women particularly—grew uncomfortable with prolonged silence. Discomfort compelled them to fill the void with conversation, and once the words started flowing, revealing monologues often followed.Not Annabelle. He stared at her profile as the minutes ticked away. Apparently, it would take more than silence to crack her tough little sh
Oh boy, did she. Caution had officially fled the building, leaving reckless desire in charge. “Yes. Absolutely yes. But first…” Her shaking fingers scrambled over the buttons of his shirt. The feel of his muscular chest frayed her patience and in the end, she simply tore the shirt open. His startled, aroused growl nearly drowned out the clatter of buttons on polished hardwood.She shoved the shirt down his shoulders, drinking in the sight of his broad chest, striated abs, and firm, flat stomach. “You’ve seen me naked, or nearly naked, plenty of times, but I never get to see you. I never get to touch your skin.” Determined to rectify the inequity, she indulged herself now, running her hands over his warm, hard body. It wasn’t enough. Somehow he sensed this, because he leaned in, knelt on the bed, and took her lips. Kissing him back, she leaned in, too, until her tight, aching nipples brushed his chest. Their moans mingled in the quiet room.“You feel so good,” she whispered.He choked
He slipped the ring on her finger, climbed onto the bed, and swept her into a kiss. By the time he was done, her head spun more than a little, and there was a strange clapping sound assaulting her ears. “Ignore them,” he whispered, cupped her jaw, and lowered his head for another kiss.Confused, she looked beyond him, toward the door. Val, Ginger, Ariana, Lee Anne, Anaisse, and Tommy gathered just beyond the threshold, clapping.“About time, Snowflake,” Ginger called.“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ryan called, never taking his eyes off her. His smile held wicked intent.The door whooshed closed.“I’m injured,” she warned as he moved in.“I’m careful.” He traced the front opening of her hospital gown, barely grazing her flesh.“I guess you are,” she managed, as his fingers parted the gown.“And creative.” As proof, he tapped the bed-adjust button and eased her into a more reclined position.She raised a brow at him. “A nurse could walk in here at any moment to check on me
The light hum of female voices registered first, followed by the smell of roses and lilies. Annabelle lay still for a moment, kept her eyes closed, and did a quick physical inventory. Toes? Check. Fingers? Check. Head still attached to the shoulders? Check.Best she could tell, all parts were present and accounted for. She felt stiff and groggy like she’d been asleep for a week, but nothing too alarming. A vague impression of Ryan holding her hand and telling her not to worry about anything danced through her mind, but she couldn’t say for sure whether that was memory or wishful thinking. She racked her brain for something more. Other images formed—a nurse with a short brunette bob offering her water. Anaisse smiling through tears while helping brush her teeth and hair—but no Ryan Ferrer.Deciding to chance a look around, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sunlight streamed through an unfamiliar window, below which sat a metal cabinet holdi
Ryan hurried down the passageway toward the stage, hugging the wall and keeping his steps quick and light. He doubted anyone would hear him coming over the noise of the party, but he didn’t plan on leaving it to chance.The passageway widened at the back of the stage. A retractable metal security gate spanned the stage to prevent anyone from moving the festivities to the backstage area. The blackout curtain hung just beyond the security gate. He wrapped his hand around a slat and gave the gate a shake, testing it. Fully secure, with very little give. No one had slipped into or out of the backstage area through there. He worked his fingers between the slats, moved the curtain aside, and looked out. A sea of zombies, ghouls, princesses, and pirate wenches danced under flashing purple lights. Nothing unusual.His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. A text from Tommy read, At the back door. Wait for me. For a nanosecond, he considered waiting, because, pro
Detective Ryan FerrerRyan bit back a curse as he examined the broken lock. Kicked in? He pulled his gun and crept through the door, keeping it low. Since nobody shot him in the head the moment he cleared the threshold, he swept left with his gun, then right. No sign of anyone.He straightened, stuck his gun into the back of his jeans, and debated his choices. Val’s office and the dancers’ dressing room were down the hallway to the left. The hallway on his right led to the stage, and beyond that, another narrow hall led to the back door of the club.Instinct told him to go right since that direction ultimately led to an exit. He shot off a text to Tommy. The door’s busted. Get back here. Don’t bring Anaisse. He didn’t wait for a reply, just tucked the phone in his pocket and started down the hall, scanning in every direction as he went. A few steps along, he glanced down and froze. What the hell…? He crouched and picked up a small white feather.His heart thundered in his chest. Annab
Oh, no. No one would see them up there. “I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.” Also, she was in no condition to scramble up a straight-vertical ladder. Numb hands, shaky legs, and the unrelenting pain in her side made the climb risky.She released a shuddery breath when the pressure of the gun disappeared from the center of her back. Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed infinitesimally, just knowing the damn thing wasn’t poised to blow a hole through—The cold, unforgiving metal pressed against her temple, scattering her thoughts like seagulls. She heard the click of the safety release.“Climb or die.”“Okay, okay.” The words scraped along her tight, dry throat. Turned out her fear of bullets trumped her fear of heights. She clasped the nearest rung in a bloody grip. “I’ll climb.”Working her way up the ladder took even more effort than she’d anticipated. Escape scenarios cart-wheeled through her mind too quickly for her to get a solid hold on any one plan.Stay calm. Easier thought than
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Annabelle, where are you? Ryan cut a path through zombies, mummies, and vampires, scouring his search area for any sign of her. There was none. To compound his apprehension, his phone remained frustratingly silent. The secret hope he’d harbored that she’d sneaked away to a stall in the ladies’ room to put herself together and curse him to hell and back waned with each passing second.If anything happened to her, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. His hand shook as he shoved it through his hair, pulling hard at the roots until his scalp screamed. They had to find her. End of discussion. There was no way his last interaction with the love of his life could take place in a back room at a strip club, her staring at him with a heartbreaking expression on her face, saying, “I’m sorry.”Absolutely not. He’d find her. And when he did, he’d sit her down and they’d have an honest talk—no more games or tactics. He’d ask her, point-blank, what the hell part of their relationship
Now Tommy turned and looked at him. “She doesn’t have her phone.”“What?” True, Annabelle hadn’t been carrying hers either, but Anaisse was the responsible twin.“You saw what she’s wearing. You think she’s got a BlackBerry built into her shoe?”“I was hoping.”“Sorry to burst your bubble. I don’t suppose Annabelle told you what she did on her way in to the party?”The bad feeling came back. Stronger. “She said something about handling her pen pal.”“She scooped him. He threatened to reveal that she used to strip for a living. Annabelle decided to break the news herself, so she rolled out of the limo this evening and held herself a press conference, during which she mentioned she’d spent two years dancing at Phoenix.”He felt the color drain out of his face. “Holy shit. Exactly why am I not supposed to be worried yet?”Tommy shrugged but returned to inspecting the crowd. “She could be right. Now that he’s got no hammer to hold over her, he’ll lose interest.”“Maybe. Or could be he’ll
The insult stung. Did he really think he’d fooled her up until they’d danced? Like she only recognized him by the feel of his cock? “I knew it was you the minute I saw you. Letting you think otherwise was just”—she lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug—“an entertaining little game. But the game is over and, ultimately, doesn’t change what I want.”Apparently, she could sting him back, because his eyes narrowed. Then he ground his hips against hers until she bit her lip and moaned.“You’re sending mixed signals, Annabelle. You don’t know what you want.”Sadly, she did—she wanted far too much, more than he’d offered—but her stupid, traitorous hips lifted, seeking more from him.“Careful. The condom…” He reached down between them and pinched the base of his erection, holding the latex in place. But when he started to pull out, she panicked.“Don’t.” Her hands flew down to his hips, and her fingers dug in to hold him still. Don’t leave me empty. Not yet.“Annabelle…” He swore under his br
Annabelle rode out the last trembling aftershocks from the mind-numbing orgasm—the kind of full-body meltdown only Ryan could deliver. Shaky, sweaty, and tingling like she’d been struck by lightning, she barely registered when he lifted her and put her on his lap. She opened her eyes and immediately tumbled into his. Dammit. He pinned her with an expression she couldn’t fully read, but made her heart want to flip over in her chest and expose its soft underbelly. Which only proved she was, in fact, her own worst nightmare. No faceless stranger could lay claim to the title. She held that honor all on her own.Was that what you were looking for, Angel? He’d spoken quietly, but she heard the test in his voice as if daring her to push him even one more inch.Oh, she dared. Pushing him was about the only thing she dared do at this point because she knew full well her resolve would collapse like a house of cards if she came clean about their charade. And God only knew what confessions would