Fallen Angels: Beguiled\Wanton\Uncovered (22 page)

It took her precious minutes to get her bearings again, to hide the embarrassment that threatened to bring her low. And when she did, Alec was helping her off the stool. He had her purse in one fist, had paid her bill, and was leading her out. He walked behind her, automatically protecting her back, she knew, constantly nudging her forward.

Oh no. She hadn't accomplished a thing yet! She stiffened, but Alec's hand came around her waist and curved over her belly. The thin material of her dress was no barrier against the hot hardness of his large palm. His long fingers spread, spanning her from hipbone to hipbone. She sucked in a startled breath in response and retreated backward, attempting to pull away. But that only brought her up flush against the front of Alec and she felt his tall, hard body all along the length of her back. His erection, so blatantly obvious, pushed against her bottom. She felt a new, wilder rush of heat and she locked her knees against the tightening curl of desire.

Alec bent and his lips brushed her ear. To the onlookers, it appeared to be foreplay. To Celia, it was a sizzling threat. “Don't look back or you'll give yourself away. Every man here, including the ones who count, figure I just made arrangements with you for the night. That was your objective, and for the moment, keeps you safe.” He pressed his mouth to her temple in a strangely tender kiss, then added, “From them.”

From them.
Meaning she still had to deal with him and that was much more alarming than what she'd faced in the bar. But she knew he was right. For now, there was no salvaging the night. She could come back tomorrow and hopefully her ruse would be validated by Alec's actions. Mr. Jacobs, the blond, blue-eyed villain she'd been trying to meet, would see her as a desperate woman alone, an easy pick-up.

Celia forcefully snuffed out the small voice in her mind that claimed the ruse a reality. The kiss with Alec was a mistake; she wouldn't let it happen again. She wasn't desperate, or easy—not anymore. She was only determined to see the job done. One way or another, she'd keep her overheated sexuality under control, and she'd nail the man who was ruthlessly ruining young women's lives.

Mr. Jacobs picked up women who seemed to be alone, telling them he wanted them to model for him. Some of their photos might even make it into a small-circulation magazine or two. But that wasn't what he really wanted. And Celia intended to prove it. She only hoped she'd made an attractive enough picture to draw his notice. Combined with the conversation she'd shared with the bartender, she hoped to have left enough bait.

Forcing Jacobs to show his true colors, exposing him to the authorities, would be an absolute pleasure. But her first priority, for now, was saving one young woman in particular. She couldn't forget that; she couldn't forget Hannah.

As Alec led her to his truck, she thought about what she would say to him. The night air was warm and humid in mid-July and the sensual haze lifted while she felt her skin grown damp beneath the slinky dress. He was still behind her, still pressing her forward, and she wanted to run. Alec Sharpe, her brother's number one agent, had kissed her senseless. He had curved his big hand over her belly and she could still feel the imprint of it there though he'd moved it away when opening the door. She felt like an animal.

“I can get home on my own.”

Without explaining how he knew it, Alec said, “You didn't drive, and I'm damn sure not letting you get on a bus or wait for a taxi.”

She twisted to face him. “You have no say in what I do.”

His eyes flashed down at her, then skimmed her body once again. “Wanna bet?”

They waged a silent battle for all of three seconds, but Celia knew she didn't dare cause a scene so close to the bar. Anyone might see, and then questions would be asked, questions she couldn't afford if she wanted to handle this case without complications, without embarrassing Hannah further.

Taking her silence for acquiescence, Alec opened the truck door, lifted her by the waist and plopped her inside. He dropped her purse on her lap then slammed the truck door, and without a single care, strode to the driver's side and slid in.

Damn it, she'd known since the day she met him he was trouble. It didn't matter that her brother, Dane, trusted him more than any other man he knew. It didn't matter that her sister-in-law, Angel, actually let him baby-sit her sweet, innocent little son. It didn't matter that he always got the job done, that he had never hurt her, that he had in fact taken a bullet meant for her on the last assignment she'd botched.

What mattered was that he was lethal to her senses. He had kissed her, and she'd liked it. But his kiss had been meant to remove her from the bar without fuss. He'd used that kiss against her, just as her fiancé had used her sexuality against her. And it had worked.

She couldn't, wouldn't, let herself get involved with him. For the past year-and-a-half, she'd effectively put her sensual, prurient nature under wraps, and she wanted to keep it that way. As soon as she got home, she'd call Dane and make him intervene. She hadn't wanted to do that because it felt too much like tattling, like using her relationship with the boss to get special favors. But this was crucial.

She had sworn off relationships after her last disastrous attempt at finding romance. Lust had blinded her to reality then, and the shame was still a part of her. But she was now older and wiser and determined to forge a new life for herself while making amends for past mistakes.
Without sexual involvement.

Dane was going to have to make Alec leave her alone. That was all there was to it.

“P
UT ON YOUR SEAT BELT
.”

Alec was aware of her unease, but he wasn't ready to comfort her yet. He hadn't been kidding when he'd issued his less-than-subtle threat to her posterior. When he'd found her in that bar, playing at being a damn tramp and looking ripe for the part, he'd wanted more than anything to turn her over his knee. But he figured if he ever did have Celia Carter in such an interesting position, punishment would likely be the last thought on his mind. He knew he could never hurt her; hell, he'd taken a bullet rather than let her be hurt. But all other possibilities were still wide open. The things he did want to do to her were numerous, and driving him nuts.

Especially since she seemed to make a career of telling him no—about everything. As a result, he was learning to live with constant frustration.

He could almost feel her gathering her courage. She did that a lot with him and it amused him. Grown men had been steering a wide path around him since his late teens, but not Celia. Right from the start, she'd tried her best to stand up to him, but always there was a touch of fear in her mellow hazel eyes. She'd rail against him, give him hell, but with obvious nervousness. To him, the fact that she stood up to him despite her fear indicated a hell of a lot of guts and he admired that in a woman. In fact, he'd admired a hell of a lot about Celia Carter since first setting eyes on her.

What he didn't admire was her impetuous race for adventure that had kept her on the edge of danger ever since she'd left her family's secure company and joined up with Dane. He still couldn't figure that one out. So her fiancé had turned out to be a grade A bastard? There were plenty of them in the world to go around, and it certainly wasn't Celia's fault that she'd been too innocent to see through Raymond's scam. Alec had already been working with Dane to nail Raymond for numerous crimes, not the least of which was the murder of Dane and Celia's brother. At the time, they hadn't known for certain that Raymond was the culprit, but they'd had their suspicions. In the end, Celia was the one who'd saved the day, sneaking up on Raymond and clobbering him with a crowbar while he'd held Dane and Angel at gunpoint. Celia had more than vindicated herself in everyone's eyes.

Everyone's but her own.

Alec knew Raymond had hurt her tender feelings, trying to use Celia as a pawn in his schemes. It was the worst emotional insult a man could deal a woman, using her that way. She obviously felt horrible for having ever believed in him. In truth, Alec wondered what the hell she'd seen in Raymond. He'd disliked the man on instinct the moment he'd met him. But then he was good at what he did, and he'd been doing it a long time. The same wasn't true of Celia. For the most part, and despite her loud claims to the contrary, she was still a wide-eyed innocent.

So why the hell did she want to risk her damn neck day in and day out trying to prove something? The anger washed over him again, fresh and raw, and he growled, “You're not going back there, so you can stop your scheming right now.”

Her head snapped around toward him and she glared. “I'm going to talk to Dane. You're not my boss and I want you to quit acting like you are.”

Primal satisfaction settled deep into his bones. With this one woman, he wanted every advantage he could get. “Now there's where you're wrong.”

He felt a return of her wariness. He was so painfully attuned to her and her feelings, he always seemed to know what she was thinking and feeling. It unnerved him, even as it turned him on and made him more determined to have her. There was a link between them that she did her damnedest to deny. He wouldn't let her do that much longer. When she was lying naked beneath him, he'd see to it that her thoughts were centered solely on accepting him and the incredible pleasure he'd give them both. There'd be no room for doubt or denial.

“What are you talking about?”

He tightened his hands on the wheel, pressed his foot to the accelerator and relished this moment of proper balance between them. He hadn't liked it worth a damn that Dane was her ultimate boss, leaving him no say-so in what Celia did or which job she chose. That had finally changed, and not a moment too soon, given where he'd found her.

Luckily, the darkness hid his smile, but the satisfaction came through in his tone. “With Angel pregnant again, Dane's decided she needs an extended vacation. He's rented a house in the Carribean and he's taking the family there for a month. While he's gone, I'm in charge.” He slanted her a look, saw her shock and decided to clarify just to make sure there were no misunderstandings. “So you see, Miss Carter, I am your boss.”

“No.”

He took great pleasure in nodding. “Afraid so.”

“I won't have it!”

“You, Celia, have no choice.” Her hands fisted, her entire small body going taut in automatic rebellion. He wanted to pull her close, to cuddle her and reassure her; they were soft urges he hadn't experienced with a woman in fifteen years and he didn't welcome them now. He firmed his resolve, blocking out all the weakening, tender emotions. Protecting Celia was for her own good, so he'd do it whether she liked it or not.

“Listen close, honey. If I find you even thinking about that particular case again, I'll fire you in a heartbeat. As a matter of fact, from here on out, I'll personally give you which assignments I want you to have. And you can bet they won't include dressing like a hussy and putting your sweet little ass on the line.”

He finished that grand statement with a flourish, pleased with himself and his implacable stance. But when he slowed the truck for a turn in the road, Celia unsnapped her seat belt and opened the door.

Cursing, Alec slammed on the brakes and tried to steady the wheel. The truck shuddered to an immediate, bone-jarring halt. Alec saw red and reached for her, the idea of getting her over his lap more appealing by the moment. But she was already leaping out, her own anger giving her the advantage of speed. She landed awkwardly on her high heels, fell to her butt, then jerked quickly to her feet again. If his reflexes hadn't been so good, and he hadn't stopped the truck so quickly, she might have broken her neck. Waiting for the truck to actually stop hadn't seemed like a concern to her.

A middle-aged couple who'd been walking by on the dark night stopped to stare. Alec saw Celia dust herself off, nod at the people, then start briskly on her way, limping slightly.

He quickly maneuvered the truck to the curb, jerked out his keys and trotted after her.
Damned irritant.
Her brother was sharp as a tack, reasonable, calculating. There wasn't an impulsive or careless bone in his body. Dane always knew what he was doing, and how he was going to go about doing it. He and Alec worked perfectly together, both of them practical, methodical,
sensible.
So where the hell had Celia gotten her foolhardy, damn-the-consequences attitude?

Alec grabbed her arm and held on while she tried to jerk away. She swung her purse at him and he dodged it. “Just settle down, damn it, before you hurt yourself.”

“You bullying behemoth, get your hands off me!”

The names she called him usually made him grin. But not this time, not when he had an important point to make and already knew how resistant she was going to be. He clasped both her arms, effectively immobilizing her. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Just this once, Celia, will you please use your head?”

“I am using it,” she insisted, her eyes and cheeks hot with temper. “I'm going to go to the corner and hail a cab, and from here on out, I want nothing to do with you. You think you're going to fire me? Ha! I quit.”

The pedestrians, still enthralled by the drama taking place in front of them, moved on quickly enough when Alec's darkest, most threatening glare shot their way. He pushed Celia into a small storefront doorway, out of the path and view of anyone else out wandering the streets on this blacker-than-pitch night. The corner streetlamp didn't quite reach them, and they were isolated by the darkness.

He forced himself to take three deep, calming breaths. Her statement that she wanted nothing to do with him had cut like a knife and left him bleeding. Damn her, she would not shut him out. Not anymore.

“You're being unreasonable,” he finally said, doing his best to keep his tone calm, to hide his own anger. No one, man or woman, had ever set him off like this, but then it had always been that way with Celia. She elicited more emotion from him, in all forms, than anyone he'd ever known. She could make him furious with a word, amuse him with a burst of temper, or arouse him to the point of pain with a simple shy look. He didn't like it, but more than that, he wasn't quite sure how to deal with it, and feeling helpless was something he hated above all things. The only way he could see to get over it was to finally have her, to sate himself on the scent and feel and taste of her. He could easily spend a week doing just that, and he eventually would. But first he had to insure her safety.

“Do you want to get hurt?” He shook her slightly, both hands now holding her bare shoulders. He was careful not to bruise her, but he wanted her attention, needed her to know he was dead serious. “Do you realize what could have happened to you last time if I hadn't gotten in the way of that bullet?”

She lowered her gaze and stared at his shirtfront. He had the almost overpowering urge to press his lips against the part in her fair hair. She was so damn baby soft all over. Soft hair, soft skin…
soft smell.
His chest suddenly felt tight, his muscles rigid, and he fought against it, against the effect she had on him. The need to kiss her, to eat her alive, was strong. He wanted to make her a part of him so she'd quit fighting so hard.

He gave her another quick, careful shake. “Celia?” he demanded in a growl.

“That was an accident,” she muttered, her voice quavering slightly. “I thought the guy was just jumping bail and that he'd be easy enough to bring in.” She peeked up at him, her hazel eyes wide and vulnerable, swallowing him whole and making his hands shake. “I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”

His fingers flexed on her shoulders, stroking, relishing the tender feel of her warm flesh. A slow burn started in his gut. “Celia…damn it, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You don't know enough yet to get involved in cases like that. They'd grabbed that guy on petty theft, and he was small-time, but he knew bigger, more dangerous guys and you bumbled right into their dealings by following him without backup. You didn't wait for a partner the way you're supposed to and you didn't call the cops when you should have.”

She swallowed. “Does…does your leg still hurt?”

It wasn't his leg bothering him. He thought about lying, pondering whether his injury would have any effect on swaying her to stay away from danger. But he doubted it. She was so damn headstrong and unreasonable. “No. It's fine.”

“Nothing keeps you down for long, does it?” She peeked up at him again. “You're so invincible.”

Hardly. His hands tightened again, because around her he felt like a naked baby in the woods, but damned if he'd admit it.

“I just wanted to prove I could do it,” she whispered, reacting to his anger.

Her words made him want to explode.
“Why?”

She drew a shuddering breath, and his attention was diverted to her breasts. He wasn't sure how it was done, since understanding the working of women's underwear wasn't high on his list of accomplishments, but her small breasts were fairly bursting out of that damn dress. They taunted him, when usually it was her pert behind that grabbed his undivided attention. That and her unwavering stubbornness, which he admired even as he resented it.

“You wouldn't understand, Alec.”

Probably not, since he'd forgotten what the hell they were talking about. He wanted to pull the plunging neckline of the dress two inches lower so he could see her nipples. Would they be pale pink, or a dark dusky rose? He could almost taste her in his mouth, her sweet flesh puckering tight. His erection strained against his jeans. Lord, if just thinking about kissing her breasts made him shake with lust, he wasn't sure he'd actually be able to survive being inside her. He closed his eyes in self-defense and swallowed hard. But shutting out the reality of having her in his grasp only allowed him to dwell on the fantasy of getting her beneath him, warm and soft and ready.

He groaned.

“Alec?”

He forced his eyes open, saw her worried gaze, and frowned. With one fingertip, he tipped up her chin. “What wouldn't I understand, babe? Explain it to me.”

She licked her lips, leaving them wet and shiny. “I need to make a difference. I've screwed up a lot in my life, hurt a lot of people.”

Her self-recrimination did a lot to dispel his lust and clear his brain, so that her words held all his attention. He started to correct her, to tell her how wrong she was, but decided to let her talk it out instead. Later, he could set her straight.

“I almost lost Dane, and I did lose Derek because I was too dumb to see Raymond for what he was. My entire family was hurt, the company was hurt. Innocent people were victimized. The only way I can live with myself now is if I help someone else.”