Hotbed Honey (13 page)

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Authors: Toni Blake

BOOK: Hotbed Honey
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Being around him again was fantastic, but so confusing. If anything was going to start back up between them, it would happen much easier after this case was through.
Then she caught Max staring at her, one elbow propped on the arm of his chair, his chin balanced on a loose fist. As usual, she couldn't read his expression. Anyone else in the world—yes. She'd gotten much better at that sort of thing in their time apart. Frank had schooled her on it this past year. But not Max and those warm brown pools of his. They stayed as cloaked and mysterious to her as ever.
Still, she looked back, trying her hardest not to show him any emotion, either—her confusion and frustration from what had happened earlier, her disgust over being touched by this thief. They exchanged what she thought of as a blank, yet somehow serious, stare for the length of Carlo's grating massage.
Max didn't like Carlo being so touchy-feely with Kimberly. He hadn't liked it last night, either, but at least then she'd been wearing a little more clothing. He knew from very recent experience just how accessible she was at the moment, just how easy it was to reach beneath the fabric. He hated having her in such a vulnerable position with this guy and not being able to intervene without blowing the case.
He wanted to kick himself for giving in to his own wants when he'd come upon her sunning, and for having had to leave them both so on the edge of ecstasy.
Man, what bad timing Carlo had,
Max thought, shaking his head. Things had been incredibly hot, tension-filled, but in a good way. In an intense way. She'd wanted him to touch her as much as he'd wanted to.
At the moment, he also kind of wanted to kill Kimberly for sitting there letting
Carlo
touch her so much, encouraging it with her little moans of pleasure, giggling when the jerk made a stupid joke.
It's her job, you idiot
, he reminded himself. But did she really have to be
that
encouraging? Something about it made Max's stomach churn.
So, she really thought this guy was handsome? Seemed crazy to Max, but that's what she'd told him last night. Handsome.
Compared to me?
he'd even been tempted to say. Now he was glad he hadn't.
He might have asked himself how he could account for all his feelings if he hadn't been so busy holding Kimberly's gaze, trying to see what she was really feeling. But at the moment her expression was surprisingly masked, surprisingly unreadable, which bugged him more than he could understand.
* * *
Hours later, Max stood in the kitchen in his swim trunks, his back against one of the French doors, arms crossed in front of him. He watched Kimberly moving around the room, putting things away, running food scraps through the disposal, scouring grilling utensils over the sink, all the while still in her bikini, perky as hell. Carlo was upstairs showering, but that didn't diminish Max's annoyance. After all, she'd spent the whole afternoon flirting with Carlo.
Max cringed at the awful memory of her sitting on the edge of the pool and Carlo pulling on her ankle, trying to get her to come into the water with him. Before it was done, the slimeball's hands had climbed up her calf to the back of her knee. She'd giggled the whole time, saying, "You'd better stop it, Carlo," although it had clearly been in jest. Max had simply stood by watching, getting angrier with each passing minute.
Yes, it was the role she'd been hired to play. But did she have to make him look so dumb and blind? And did she have to do that pretty, lighthearted little giggle so damn much?
And now here she was, still flitting around in her bikini inside the house. Soon enough Carlo would be back down here and Max had the bad feeling that if he turned his back for a minute, Carlo would be all over her, and maybe inside that bikini, too. Sure, he was here to protect her, but in his opinion, she needed to exercise a little self-preservation, as well.
Now she was putting away the plates she'd just washed and dried, reaching up into an overhead cabinet on her tiptoes. She arched her back, making herself taller and sticking out her cute little bottom in the process. A nice view. Too nice. One he was sure Carlo would enjoy if he were here.
Only when Kimberly closed the cabinet door and looked around for her next chore did she seem to notice his disgruntled look. "What's wrong?"
"Maybe you should put some more clothes on," he replied evenly.
The words took Kimberly aback and made her chest tighten. His tone implied that she was doing something wrong here. She refrained from responding, not quite sure what to say in the midst of her surprise, but gave him a look of warning that dared him to go on.
He took the dare, although he kept his voice low. "I think it's safe to say that the bikini has more than done its job with Carlo. You can cover yourself up a little better now."
Oh boy. Was he serious? Kimberly tried to keep from fuming inside, but it was hard to push it down. At this point in the game, she had no intention of taking any crap from Max. She kept her voice low, as well, when she said, "What's the problem here?"
"No problem," he answered in a gruff whisper. "But I didn't exactly see why you had to let him touch you so damn much all day."
"Hmm, let's see," she replied sarcastically, a fingertip at her bottom lip. "I'm supposed to make the guy think I want to have sex with him. I'm supposed to make him think I'm completely willing to do that, so I didn't run screaming from him when he started to touch me. Silly me, what
could
I have been thinking?"
He narrowed his eyes in response to her sarcasm. "I hadn't envisioned it including a lot of touching, that's all."
"You didn't envision touching? Well, for someone who didn't envision touching, you've certainly been doing enough of it. In fact, I was beginning to think that was my sole purpose here—to be touched and fondled by any man within reach."
He took a step toward her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kimberly let out a deep breath. She couldn't believe it! He was actually going to act as if he didn't know what she was talking about. "Well, in case you weren't paying attention, Carlo's not the only man in this house who's had trouble keeping his hands off me. After all, what was that kiss you gave me at the door last night?"
He stiffened. "That was professional. To help him view you in a sexual light."
"Oh, and then what was that at the pool today when he wasn't even around?"
He let out a heavy breath, and his expression shifted from anger to bitter honesty. "That? That was lust, Kimberly."
Lust
. The word halted her in place. She lusted for him, too, but what she felt for him went deeper than mere lust. She
loved
him. Kimberly knew he didn't love her back, knew too much had happened for him to ever love her, but lust, at the moment, made her feel empty inside. She said nothing, only blinked to make sure she didn't start to cry.
"What the hell am I supposed to feel here?" he boomed at her then. "First last night, seeing you in that dress—"
"You told me to look that way!"
"You're right, I did. But I sure didn't tell you to come to bed wearing a tiny see-through nightgown. And then today, that bikini. I know, you're supposed to wear that, too. But seeing so much of your body just finally got to me, all right? It was unprofessional and I know it.
So sue me.
But it takes two to tango, doesn't it? You weren't exactly fighting me off, were you?"
Kimberly had heard enough. She turned and stalked away from him, out of the kitchen and down the massive hall. So he lusted for her and he thought what she felt for him was a simple matter of two bodies drawn to each other by something as meaningless as chemistry, too. She entered the bathroom, shut the door and let herself cry, hating herself for the tears even as she set them free.
Well, this would end
now
, she decided adamantly. She'd change out of her bathing suit as soon as she exited the bathroom. And if she had to, she would wear a potato sack to bed tonight, but she certainly wouldn't wear another of the nighties she'd unwittingly packed. She'd do nothing to tempt him that wasn't completely necessary to the role. She'd do this job, catch this creep, collect her pay and be gone.
She'd started thinking that being back around Max was wonderful, but she'd been wrong. It was painful and she wanted it to end as soon as possible.
Drying her tears with a tissue, Kimberly composed herself and came out, ready to be in character if she confronted Carlo. Then she made her way to the stairs, and to the master suite, ready to change into something Max might find more acceptable now that he was suddenly the clothing police.
* * *
Upon coming back downstairs in a short, shape-flattering but amply covering yellow linen dress, Kimberly was met by Max and informed that their guest was sitting out on the patio enjoying what remained of the day's sun. Then he grabbed her hand and led her down the hall to the office, shutting the door behind them.
At first Kimberly feared Max was going to continue berating her about her bikini, or perhaps find fault in what she wore now, despite its being the most conservative thing she'd brought. Instead, he turned to face her, leaning back against the desk in a stylish button-up shirt and a slightly faded pair of blue jeans, and said, "Let's talk strategy."
"All right." She herself was more than eager to talk strategy at this point—it seemed the only safe subject between them.
"I told Carlo I wanted to take you both out for a casual dinner tonight. I saw a little bistro earlier that looked nice. I figured I'd use the dinner as a chance to try to find out more about him. He's pretty tight-lipped about himself, but we might get something. We could also try bringing up the jewelry again. Maybe we can wheedle some hint about where he's stashing or selling the jewels he steals. A long shot, but worth a try."
"Okay. I'll follow your lead."
"After that, we'll just wait until tomorrow afternoon when I'll pretend to get a call from my office about some stock-market emergency."
"Max," she pointed out, "there can't be any stock emergency on a Sunday—the market is closed."
"It'll be Monday in
Australia
," he replied, "and I'm an international sort of guy. Besides, I don't think Carlo's gonna argue about a chance to get you alone."
The very idea of that made Kimberly shiver inside, but she knew it was their goal. She also knew that she wouldn't
really
be alone with him—Max would secretly be in the closet. Besides, she reminded herself, she was tough and emotionless now, all business, and she intended to keep it that way until this assignment was over. She was ready to take Carlo on.
"So then," she replied, "after your imaginary call, I'll keep Carlo busy on the patio or something while you go get set up in the closet?"
He nodded. "Right. The camera equipment is already there, so it shouldn't take long. Give me five minutes or so and then you can come up. If Carlo doesn't suggest looking at your jewelry himself, you can offer to show it to him. And then we can bring this baby home."
"Sounds good," she said.
"Do you have any questions about your part?"
"I just act submissive and passionate and let Carlo do the rest, right?"
"Right."
"Then when things heat up a little, I act like I've changed my mind. I decline his advances and rush from the room, leaving him alone with the jewelry, right?"
"Right again."
"And if things get out of hand, you'll be there. Right?"
"Right a third time."
Kimberly nodded, then turned to leave the office, when Max said, "Oh, and … Brandt?"
She stopped and glanced back at him. "Yeah?"
"At dinner, you can, uh, hold off on the touchy-feely stuff. I think he's got the message that you don't mind him hanging around you."
Inside, Kimberly's stomach roiled with anger, but she was a professional—an
unemotional
professional—so on the outside she worked to remain very calm. "Yeah, I already picked up on your feelings about that."
She started to go then, but stopped and looked back once more. "By the way, Tate, the next time you hire a woman to play this kind of role, you might want to spell out your expectations a little more clearly. You know, one touch by the pool, not two, that sort of thing. It's kind of hard to play by your rules when I don't know them." She'd decided to be cool, but that didn't mean she couldn't make smart remarks.

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