Fallen Angels: Beguiled\Wanton\Uncovered (44 page)

His blue eyes filled with speculative interest. Still lounging back lazily, he said, “You're nice.”

Nervousness fluttered through her. Was there a point to that? Maybe something she was missing? She took a big gulp of her water, then agreed, “I'm very nice.”

Harris warmed to his topic, leaning toward her a bit, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. His fingers just touched her nape, teasing her a bit. “So if we slept together,” he asked in a slow drawl, “you'd want to settle down with me?”

Lord yes. She wanted to claim him as her own, and have babies and make love every night….
“I dunno.” Her feigned indifference was laudable. “See, even if we did sleep together…”

“Yes?”

“I have an advantage.”

“Do tell. I'm on the edge of my seat here.”

Smugly, Clair stated, “Unlike other women you know, I have no illusions. I've watched you revel in your bachelor ways.”

“I don't revel.” His mouth flattened in distaste. “You make it sound like I go around dancing and singing about it. I just enjoy my life, that's all.”

“Thing is,” Clair continued, ignoring his protests, “I'm not sure you really know what you want or feel.”

“So I can't figure out you or me, huh? What a dope I must be.”

“I didn't say that, Harris. Don't put words in my mouth.” He grinned at her, seeming far from insulted. “Look at the way you're panting over a photo. That proves you're anxious for a serious relationship.”

“You think so? I thought it just meant I was curious.”

So curious, he'd hired two very expensive detectives to find the woman. Clair made a face at him. “What if,” she said, determined to get her theory out in the open, “what you really want is to be loved?”

For a suspended moment in time, Harris froze. Then he jeered. “Do I look that needy to you?”

“No.” Given the perfect opening, Clair spoke from her heart. “You look like a guy who's a great catch. Earnest when you need to be. Reliable. Dedicated.” Melancholy got a stranglehold on her. Helplessly, she said, “You're a hero, Harris. A gorgeous, sexy, funny, bona fide hero.”

He slowly straightened in his seat. “Don't overdo it, Clair.”

“I'm serious.” She scooted closer to him on the couch. “You're an incredible guy.”

His gaze zeroed in on her mouth. “Clair, you do realize you're turning me on again, right?” His big warm hand came up to cup her cheek. “I hope that's your intent and not part of this new sadistic streak you've developed.”

Clair chewed her lower lip. She did want to arouse him, but she didn't want to push him too far. She wanted them to talk more before they took the plunge.

“Listen. I've told you what I really think of you.” She drew a deep breath for courage—and inhaled his scent. After their jog, he was a little sweaty, but he smelled delicious. The way a man should, the way Harris always did. “Now why don't you tell me what you think of me?”

His thumb brushed her jaw. “Sure.” The left side of his mouth kicked up. “You're cute, in a funky egghead, jock sort of way.”

The romantic haze cleared from around her. “Be still my heart.”

The teasing glimmer in his blue eyes clued her in. “Now Clair, what did you want me to say? You keep changing on me, so I don't know your personality anymore.”

He knew her better than anyone, including her family. He just didn't realize it yet.

“I can't even tell what you're thinking most of the time because you always hide behind your glasses.” The seductive way he caressed her neck mesmerized her. “Do you shower in them? Sleep in them?” His voice dropped. “Make love in them?”

Clair tried to rear back, but Harris kept her in place with the gentle hold on the back of her neck, and his compelling stare. “I'm not telling,” she whispered.

“Then I think I'll find out on my own.” He reached for her frames.

Clair couldn't let him take her glasses off! He might recognize her. She shoved him hard, but Harris being Harris—a big, sturdy, physically fit firefighter—he didn't budge.

“You want to wrestle?” he said with a laugh, and he caught her flying hands while somehow managing to tickle her. The next thing Clair knew they were rolling off the couch and onto the floor. She landed on Harris with a grunt, but only had a split second to enjoy that position before he flipped her beneath him. The coffee table got shoved away, and Harris settled himself between her thighs.

Uh-oh. “Harris…”

He caught both her hands in one of his, pinning them in place, keeping her still. And then, with her squawking and protesting, he slid her glasses off and placed them gingerly on the table.

Clair went mute in fear, sure that he'd recognize her.

Instead, he leaned down until his mouth just touched hers. “Can I show you my ideas on the differences between horny and antsy?”

He wasn't wearing a shirt, and all that sleek bare skin was against her. He smelled like a man should, like something that could be bottled and sold to make a fortune. And she could feel his hard, hair-roughened thighs on the tender insides of her legs. “Yes.” Her heart threatened to punch out of her chest. “You can show me.”

“I love a good sport.”

Her breath caught at the word
love,
and then Harris murmured, “Here's horny.”

His mouth settled over hers, moving hotly, urging her lips to part so his tongue could sink inside. At the same time, he gently rocked his pelvis against hers, teased her nipples with the pressure of his chest. His breath was hot on her cheek, fast and low.

Wow. When he lifted away, Clair had to struggle to get her eyes open. “Lust,” she whispered in complete agreement.

“Right. And here's antsy.” He released her hands to cup her face, holding her still as he kissed her deeply again. Clair groaned. Kissing Harris was a revelation. She now realized that among his other accolades, she'd have to add “awesome kisser.”

He eased away. “So what do you think?”

Her head was spinning, her heart beating too fast. “They were the same.”

“Right, because there isn't a difference.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “It's just preference, Clair. Sometimes I like it hard and fast.”

She groaned again.

“But sometimes,” he said, drawing it out and searing her with a look, “I like to make it last all night.”

Clair wasn't sure she could take an all-nighter. But then he kissed her temple, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough whisper.

“For you, I'd make it last.”

Okay, so maybe she could take it. Clair started to wrap her arms around him, but Harris held her off. His smile looked pained, and his muscles were taut with restraint. He kissed her nose again—and sat up.

“But since you're playing some strange game here and I can't quite figure out the rules yet, I think I better call it a night.”

She didn't want him to go now, darn it. She wanted…

Harris touched her cheek, smoothed her hair. “When we sleep together, Clair—and we will, so don't deny it—I don't want any miscommunication or regrets. We'll both be in agreement, and we'll both enjoy it. Okay?”

A little numb, Clair nodded.

When Harris pushed to his feet, she sat up and quickly located her glasses. She felt more self-assured with the visual barrier in place. “Harris?”

He smiled down at her, giving her a sense of déjà vu, but with her in the wrong position. In the park, she'd done this to him—led him on, then walked away.

He tipped his head toward her.

“Thank you.”

A smile warmed his expression. “For waiting?

“And for understanding. I…I guess I'm not a hundred percent sure what I want yet.”

“Between us?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip. “I don't think you are either.”

“Now there's where you're wrong. I know what I want—and I know I'll get it. That's the only reason I can be so patient now.”

Clair blinked hard. Had she finally made some serious progress?

“Good night, Clair,” Harris said, and his expression was warm, intimate. “Sweet dreams.”

E
VEN WHILE HE HOVERED
next to Dane, waiting to see the results from the information he'd supplied, Harris kept listening for Clair to get to work. He was curious about the mystery woman still, no two ways about that. When he'd seen a dark-haired woman flirting with him, all his senses had gone on alert. He'd made note of her license plates, and now he waited to see if she could be the one. He hoped so. The suspense was killing him.

But even while he waited in tense silence, more than half his attention was on the door, anticipating Clair's arrival. The way that girl kissed…Hell, she was so hot, he probably should stay in uniform when with her. He needed the fireproof protection.

She was the same Clair he enjoyed so much, but she acted different with him now. He liked the changes, the feminine layers to her personality. The teasing. Like refined foreplay, Clair's advance and retreat kept his excitement very close to the surface, ready to explode with little provocation.

“Her name is Melody Miles.” Dane, with his hand over the receiver of the phone, glanced up at Harris. “
Miss
Melody Miles—so she's single.”

Somehow, that didn't thrill Harris as much as he'd thought it might.

“Alec says up close, she doesn't look the same to him.”

“None of the photos show her face.”

“He didn't mention her face.” Dane shrugged. “He was talking about her body. She's a little heavier than she seemed in the snapshots, but that could be due to a time difference between when the pictures were taken and now.”

The door opened and Clair strolled in. She was smiling—until she saw Harris. Then she snapped to a standstill; her back slowly straightened.

Harris barely heard Dane still talking. Today Clair wore narrow, rectangular glasses that added an air of supreme intelligence to her appearance. Her dark glossy hair was a little windblown, proving she'd ridden to work with her car window down. Beneath the short hem of a navy-blue jumper, her long legs were bare. White sandals matched her white T-shirt. She looked adorable.

He was so glad to see her again. “Clair.”

Her mouth flattened. “What are you doing here, Harris?”

Dane hung up and stepped out from behind her desk. “He thought he might have found the mystery lady.”

Clair crossed her arms and thrust out a hip in an arrogant pose. “Do tell.”

Clearing his throat, very unsure of her mood, Harris said, “Yeah, well. She was flirting with me at this coffee shop where I stopped this morning. I realized I stop there a lot, and that could be the connection. You know, where she knew me from and everything.”

“Have you ever met her?”

“No.” Clair sounded so…accusatory. “But she could have heard my name from someone. I've been in there with the guys a few times too. Occasionally in uniform, so she'd know I was a firefighter.”

“Assuming she hangs out there as well.”

“Yeah. Assuming that.” Harris wished Dane would offer a little help. He'd acted enthusiastic about the possibility of the woman being “the one,” yet now he just stood there and grinned, enjoying Harris's plight.

“Ever notice her before?” Clair asked.

Feeling harassed, Harris said, “No. But that doesn't mean she hasn't noticed me.”

“Obviously she has if she's flirting with you.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “Did you ask her if she's the one?”

“No, of course not.” Sheepishly, Harris admitted, “I followed her so I could get her license plate number.”

“Oh gawd.” Clair flounced the rest of the way into the room and dropped her purse on the desk. “A stalker, that's what you've become.”

Dane laughed. “No one saw him, Clair, and the plates paid off.” Then he turned to Harris. “But as I said, Alec doesn't think it's her.”

At the moment, with Clair glaring at him, Harris didn't really care. “All right.”

Though he hadn't asked, Dane explained. “Body shape isn't the same.” He pulled out the larger photos they'd created. He put the one of the woman's derriere on top of the stack.

Clair made a choking sound, but when Harris glanced at her, she didn't seem to be paying them any mind. In fact, she was busily arranging and rearranging things on her desk.

“Your woman—”

“
His
woman?” Clair repeated with mocking disbelief, her desk and its clutter forgotten.

“—has a heart-shaped behind.” Dane shrugged. “The woman you saw in the coffee shop is rounder. Or so Alec tells me.”

“Then it must not be her,” Harris agreed.

“He's not positive,” Dane said, “so he's going to check her out a little more. But he said not to get your hopes up.”

Clair started laughing. Loudly. When Harris frowned at her, she put her face on the desk and covered her head with her arms. She roared with hilarity until her shoulders were shaking.

“What,” he demanded over the awful noise she made, “is so damn funny?”

Gasping, wheezing with her humor, Clair straightened. She had tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks. “You three,” she gasped, apparently including Alec, though he wasn't present. “Tracking a woman by…the shape of…
her ass.
” She burst out laughing again.

Dane cocked a brow. “I guess it does sound funny. Not that we have much else to go on.” And then louder, to make his point to Clair, he said, “Since
somebody
hasn't found us the address of the previous owner yet.”

Her amusement dried up real quick. “Oh.” Her frown was fierce. “I'm working on that.”

“Work harder,” Dane suggested. “Or better yet, I can do it.”

“No! I mean, I've got it covered. I'll have something for you in a few hours.” Disgruntled, she seemed to sink in her chair. “Will that be good enough?”

“That'd be great.” Dane picked up a file and headed for the door. “I'll be staking out the Westbrook Motel today if anyone needs me.”

“A stakeout?” Dane and Alec handled a lot of mundane, annoying cases—like cheating spouses and stolen lawn ornaments. But they also got involved in some really cool situations that Harris loved hearing about.

“Yeah. The owners of a small motel suspect one of their employees of spying on guests in the pool changing rooms. I'm going to hang out back in the bushes and catch him in the act, then we can call in the cops.” Dane winked. “You kids be good. I'll see ya later.”

Finally. The second Dane was out the door, Harris headed for Clair. Anticipation hummed inside him. He couldn't wait to taste her again.

As he advanced, her eyes widened and she hastily pushed her chair back, but Harris didn't give her time to retreat. He braced his hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in, and leaned down to take her mouth. She made a small sound of surprise—and then the sound got muffled.

Oh hell yeah, he'd missed her mouth.

Clair stayed stiff for about three seconds, then melted with a small moan. He liked that. He liked her. Maybe a lot more than he'd ever realized. When her lips parted, Harris accepted the invitation and slipped his tongue in for a deep, hot, wet kiss that lasted just long enough to get him semihard.

“I missed you,” he growled against her mouth.

Speaking must have broken the spell, because she blinked and shoved him back. She was breathing fast and her lips were slightly swollen and very pink. She readjusted her crooked glasses, then scowled. “Yeah right. You missed me so much that you're following strange women around, desperate to meet your secret admirer.”

“Not desperate.” Harris wasn't all that steady on his feet at the moment. The idea of laying her out on the desk, pushing up her sensible jumper and indulging in a little office sex tempted him. But she didn't look too receptive to that idea. “Just curious. If some guy was in love with you, wouldn't you be curious?”

A myriad of expressions—anger, frustration, hopelessness—crossed her face before she sighed and flopped back in her seat. “Maybe.” Her chin lifted. “But not if I was interested in someone else.”

Harris propped his hip on the desk. He needed the support. “I'm more than interested, Clair.”

Eyes flaring, she caught her bottom lip in her teeth. “Really?”

Was she in love with him? As to that, was he in love with her? Harris had always figured that when he fell in love, the realization would hit him over the head. He wouldn't have to wonder about it, he'd just know. But Clair was so different, he couldn't figure her out. And that meant he couldn't really figure himself out either.

Choosing his words carefully, Harris hoped to talk her around to his way of thinking, without looking too pushy or, God forbid, desperate. “I like being with you, Clair. Even before all this sexual teasing started between us.” That brought another thought, and he asked, “You won't go changing on me if we get involved, will you?”

Clair was as still as a statue. “What do you mean?”

“You tell me what you think and what you feel. But you don't get hung up on little stuff. You're always honest with me.”

She'd closed her eyes and Harris wasn't sure if she was listening. “Clair?”

Leaving her chair to pace, she said, “We're already involved. We just haven't slept together. If you like me how I am now, well, I can't see why sex should change anything.”

“Sex changes
some
stuff.”

She turned to face him, one brow raised in an attitude of skepticism. “How?”

How? Harris shook his head and rethought his words. “I should say that sex between
us
will change things. If you were a different woman—”

“Your secret admirer?”

“Don't sneer, Clair.” He liked her show of jealousy. It sort of tickled him, because he'd never thought of Clair as a jealous woman. “All I'm saying is that with another woman, I might not care. But if
we
do this, I'll expect some rights.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What rights?”

Somehow, this was backward, Harris thought, almost laughing at himself. Here he was, a man who avoided commitments, now trying to pin her down. But what had seemed so appealing just days before, now felt too open-ended. Clair never pressured him, never wanted to know where he was or when he'd be back or if he'd call. He was a firefighter, yet, to his knowledge, she never worried. And that had been cool—till now.

If she cared, shouldn't she show a little concern every now and then? Shouldn't she want to know if he was with another woman? Damn right, because if she didn't demand that special consideration, how could he demand it of her? And he wanted to. All this talk about her past boyfriend had him feeling his own dose of jealousy. He didn't want her with anyone else.

Harris pushed away from the desk. “I won't want you to ever jog at night without me.” He warmed to his topic, moving closer to her. “Hell, I don't want you to do that now. If I can't make it, you'll skip it.”

Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut and she declared with feeling, “I will not.”

“Now Clair.” He closed the space between them, forcing her to back up. “It's dangerous.”

“You never cared before.”

He was a dumb ass before. “We didn't have that kind of relationship. Now we will.”

“Ha. What if you find your mystery lady? Then I'll be put on hold. So until you resolve your feelings for her, I'll just continue to do as I damn well please.”

Harris loomed over her. The thought of her alone at night infuriated him. “Then I guess I'll just have to make sure I jog every damn night until we've got this settled.”

Her back touched the wall and stopped her retreat. “You do anyway,” she grumbled. And then, a little defeated, she added, “Besides, I don't enjoy jogging without you. Odds are, if you couldn't go, I'd skip it too.”

Harris cupped her face. Logical, honest Clair. “Thank you.” He kissed her again, but kept it light because he was running late. “I'll be over tonight as soon as I get off work.”

“Why?” Thanks to the kiss, her eyes looked soft behind her glasses. “We don't run until it's dark.”

“We've got a lot to talk about. Me, you, sex.” He grinned at her. “We'll hash it all out, because I don't think I can wait too much longer.”

He started to turn away, and she said, “Harris?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't want to wait either.”

Oh hell. A statement like that guaranteed he'd be semihard for most of the day. Not a comfortable circumstance while working with a group of men who lived to harass each other. And no doubt Ethan would be the worst, but then Ethan still prodded him about the shoebox. If he found out how much Harris cared about Clair, there'd never be an end to it. Without another word, Harris made his escape.