Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced (19 page)

Her eyes flew open with a gasp. She lurched forward, one hand clasped to her throat. “Jesus, Joe. Don’t scare me like that.”

His heart skipped a beat, or twelve. “Ditto.” He set his beer bottle on the vanity, breathed. “Christ, Marino.”

“What?”

“I thought you were …”

“What?”

Dead. “Nothing.” Christ. He took another calming breath, the heady scent of vanilla and musk filling his nostrils. Sofia’s scent.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep. Although …” She relaxed against the fluted rim of the massive tub, thick clouds of bubbles caressing the swells of her breasts. “Well, yeah, okay. I guess I get it. Between the relief of knowing JP is safe, the hot water and the pills …” She whistled, smiled. “Woo, yeah, I’m toast.”

Joe stared at her. At her head and shoulders anyway. The rest of her was hidden beneath those frothy soap bubbles. His throat constricted. “What pills?”

“The ones I took to relax.”

Fuckin’ A. “Where are they?”

“The pills?”

“Yes. The goddamned pills.”

“Geesh, Bogart. Chill.” She pointed to her burgeoning travel case. “In there. Somewhere.”

“How many did you take?”

“Five.”

“Five?”

“Well, three at first, but they didn’t seem to be working, so I doubled up. I’m a big girl. Figured I needed a bigger dose.”

“You’re not a big girl, Sofia. You’re five-foot-six with a medium frame. What do you weigh? One-twenty-five? One-thirty? Give me a frickin’ break.” He rooted through scads of beauty products. “Dammit, where are they?”

“But earlier today you said I was fat.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said, better to hide that figure than flaunt it.”

Face cleanser, crème, body oil, Vitamin C, E, B … “Meaning you have a body people notice and envy, or notice and covet. I don’t know why in the hell you starve yourself. Even if you were several pounds heavier, on a scale of ten you’re a fifteen.”

“You think I’m a fifteen?”

“Sof. For chrissake!”

“The other pocket,” she said. “Yeah, that one.”

He palmed the plastic bottle, speed-read the ingredients.

“It’s a natural supplement.”

“I see that.”

“An over-the-counter stress reliever. I was wired tight and I didn’t want to have another one of those damned attacks so, I figured what the hell? I mean it’s not like they’re addictive. What’s wrong with you, Joe?”

“Nothing.” His wobbly legs gave way. He settled on the john and stared down at the bottle in his hand. A natural supplement. He’d feared Valium or Percocet. Julietta had favored both.

“Maybe you should pop a couple of those yourself.”

He set the bottle on the counter. “Pass.”

She regarded him with a thoughtful frown. “All right then. Join me in here. I’ll kick up the jet sprays. A hydro-massage will do you good.”

He blinked at his fantasy woman and the two-person Jacuzzi. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m serious.” She smoothed her wet hair off of her freshly-scrubbed face, exposing those killer cheekbones. Makeup free and gorgeous. She rested her bruised forearms on the rim of the tub, propped her chin on her hands, and smiled—a flash of white teeth against mocha brown skin. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” she purred.

His cock twitched. “Forget it.”

She glanced at his crotch, wiggled her finely arched brows. “Nice package, by the way.”

He grabbed his beer bottle. Took a long swallow. “You’re looped.”

“Funny thing, that.” She angled her head. “Typically, I have a high tolerance for drugs and alcohol. Not that I’ve done a lot of drugs, but I have experimented, here and there, when I was younger.” She frowned. “Don’t tell Lulu.”

“God forbid.” Her older sister, a veritable teetotaler, championed the slogan,
Say No to Drugs!
Joe, especially after Julietta’s overdose, supported the same view. Sofia’s liberal attitude was disconcerting, although, given her progressive, needy personality, not surprising.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever experimented.”

“Nope.”

“Not even with weed?”

“Not even.” Aside from the fact that it would have squelched his career as a federal agent, he’d never had the inclination. He picked at the label on his beer bottle and blatantly stared at the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Betcha don’t miss the head-banger spikes and radical makeup.”

“It was a clever disguise.”
She
was a clever woman. He’d been duly impressed by her composure in the field. Almost as impressed as he was right now. She didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass that she was naked. Although, hell, it’s not like he could see anything, given her position and all those bubbles. Her mouthwatering breasts were flattened against the inside of the tub. What he wouldn’t give to be the inside of that tub.

She scraped her teeth across her lower lip. “I shampooed and scrubbed, but my hair’s still pretty purple.”

He caught a flash of insecurity in those dark brown eyes. “Hard to tell with it wet and slicked back.”

“Trust me. When it dries it will still be purple.” She lowered her lashes. “Less vibrant, but purple.”

“Sofia?”

“What?”

“You could have an orange Mohawk, and you’d still be beautiful.”

She cringed. “Am I that transparent?”

“I’m just good at reading people.”

She peered up at him, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “If you feel like that, then why were you mad when I cut and dyed my hair?”

He scraped his hand along his jaw, uneasy about revealing his thoughts. “I wasn’t mad. I was … surprised. I didn’t realize you’d go to such lengths to help a friend.”

She frowned. “You think I’m shallow.”

“I think you’re complex.”

She sighed. “That’s about the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true.”

He chewed on that statement for a moment. The more she gave up, the more he wanted to ask about her past, specifically her multiple rocky affairs. He’d never known her to be so relaxed and forthcoming. No doubt a result of the stress-relieving tablets. Compounded by the fact that she was operating on a post-hangover, little sleep, and no food, no wonder she was crocked. Although he wasn’t thrilled that she’d relied on pills to take off the edge, he appreciated a peek at the candid, warmer side of this cynical siren.

“I like looking at you too,” she said, addressing his silent appraisal. Her lush lips curled into a lazy smile. “Although, I kind of miss your goatee.”

He smiled at that. “What is it with women and goatees?”

She shrugged. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but it makes me think of medieval times. Knights. Protectors of the realm. Powerful and dangerous. Sexy.”

“Uh-huh.” That’s twice in two days that she’d called him sexy. Although both times, she’d been under the influence.

“Lisa was right.”

“Lisa who?”

“The cocktail waitress at the Camelback. She said you look like Johnny Depp.”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” He saluted her with his beer, took another sip.

“I remember,” she said with a smirk. “I remember because I thought the same thing when I first met you.”

He grunted.

“That’s a compliment, Bogart. Depp’s frickin’ hot.”

Okay, so yeah, that was a boost to the ego. He suppressed a cocky smile, watched as she squeezed more scented gel into the water, and kicked up the jet-sprays with her sudsy toes. “Just an observation, but I don’t think you’re supposed use bubble bath in a Jacuzzi, babe.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a rule-breaker from way back.”

“Unlike your sister.”

“Lulu’s a throwback to the Victorian age. I used to call her Mary Poppins.” Sofia laughed. “She hated that. Thought I was making fun of her. I was, sort of. But secretly, I admired her. All that optimism. Priceless.”

Her laughter, rich and genuine, caught him off guard. He swigged the last of his beer, hoping to cool the heat of desire rushing to his loins. It was as if they were caught in a time warp. As if she’d never tangled with those cowboys. As if Dupris wasn’t dead.

Denial.

Not entirely healthy, then again the kid deserved a break. Tomorrow would come soon enough and with it reality, although he wasn’t entirely sure what that entailed. Tomorrow they’d have to crack that memory block.

“She takes after her mother, a comedic actress,” Sofia continued with a smile. “We never knew Camille. She died when Lulu was two, before I was born. But Viv said she was a hoot.”

“You had different mothers, but the same father, I know that. I also know that your mother—a dancer from Spain, right?—and Dante Marino died in a car accident when you girls were very young. Your grandmother …”

“Viv,” Sofia interrupted. “She likes to be called Viv. Grandma or
Nona
makes her feel old.”

Joe raised a brow. “Isn’t she seventy-something?”

“Age is a state of mind.” She added with a wistful sigh, “According to Viv.”

Age, he surmised, like weight, was probably a sensitive spot with Sofia given Hollywood’s love affair with youth. It pissed him off, but if he stated his views, like earlier today on Fremont Saddle, she’d get defensive—she came from generations of entertainers, after all—and climb up on her soapbox. He wasn’t ready for the return of defensive, cynical Sofia.

He braced his forearms on his knees and leaned forward, determined to know this woman. “
Viv
raised you and your sister together. Same maternal influence. How is it you turned out such opposites?”

“Wanna know my life story? Climb in. Get comfortable.”

He’d rather climb in and get busy. “No.”

“How old are you?”

He stood. Time to end this cozy chat. She was, after all,
looped
. “Old enough to know better.”

She rolled her eyes. “Give it up, Bogart.”

“Almost forty.”

“That explains a lot.”

He frowned. “Like what?”

“Like why you’re such an old-fashioned fuddy-duddy.”

“I’m not a fuddy-duddy.” Christ almighty. He was a former undercover agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

“Prove it.” She smiled, beckoned him forward with a crooked finger.

“
You
are dangerous.” Contemplating his sanity, he summoned the control of a monk and exited the sexually-charged room. Maybe he wasn’t such a bastard after all.

He’ll be back, Sofia smugly thought. As she’d once told Lulu, no man could say no to a naked and willing woman. And boy, was she willing. Eager and willing. She’d been dreaming about him when he’d woken her. About that kiss earlier today. A kiss as wild and haunting as the Superstition Mountains and as wondrous as that desert sunset. She wanted more. When Joe kissed her he transported her conscious being to an alternate plane. Time ceased to exist. Troubles disappeared.

Just now she needed very badly to escape. To obliterate lingering thoughts of Luc and two homicidal cowboys. Just now she needed Joe.

She glanced at the open doorway. What the hell was he doing out there? Being a gentleman? Resisting a woman in a vulnerable state?
Being respectful
. Well, damn.

Just then he strode back into the room.

She tried to suppress a cheeky smile and failed.

He blew out a frustrated breath. “What am I going to do with you?”

Jesus, he was handsome. “I can give you a couple of ideas if you’re really stuck.” Desire pulsed hot and rapid through her veins. Racy scenarios burned away her no-sex resolution like wildfire.

“I’m not stripping down and getting in that tub,” he said, refusing to take the bait. “On the other hand, I’m not leaving you in here alone. What if you fall asleep again? Slide under the water? What if you slip getting out of the tub and whack your head like Dupris?”

“What if.” Sofia blocked out thoughts of Luc and focused on her agenda. “You sound like Lulu. A fuddy-duddy
and
a worrywart.” Maybe if she needled him enough he’d kiss her just to shut her up. It would be a start.

He snatched up a folded bath towel and snapped it open. “Come on, kid. Out of the tub.”

She turned off the jet sprays and frowned up at him. “Kid? Is that what’s troubling you? Our age difference? Ten years.” She snorted. “Big deal, Bogart.”

“More like eleven, but who’s counting?”

“You.” Jeez, he was conservative. She eyed the bottle of stress-reliever pills he’d set on the counter. Understanding clicked. Conservative and haunted. “Ah.”

“What, ah?”

“You don’t want to get naked with me because you think I’m, what did you call it? Looped.” Admittedly, the pills had made her a little slow on the uptake. She should’ve sensed the connection long before this.

“I don’t think it, I know it. Get out of the tub.”

Water sloshed as she pushed herself up, less than gracefully, to her feet. “I’m not chemically dependent, Joe.”

“Nice to know.”

She read the male approval, the lustful desire flickering in his eyes before he averted his gaze. Apparently her bruised arms and dinged-up legs, compliments of the mysterious scuffle, didn’t diminish her appeal in his eyes. Knowing that he liked her body even though she wasn’t a size three was a supreme high. Knowing that he’d find her just as attractive even if she were several pounds heavier blew her mind. And was almost beyond her comprehension.