Illegal Motion: A Loveswept Classic Romance (6 page)

Sensuous images filled her head, startling her with their intensity, but she willingly followed their lead. After all, she reasoned, the stronger the medicine, the better the cure. After a moment or two a new sensation skittered over her heated skin, but it was slow to overpower the other, increasingly erotic ones. It took her a long moment to realize the tingling awareness was trying to tell her she was no longer alone.

Embarrassed at being caught fantasizing, absurdly feeling as if her erotic thoughts were displayed over her head in a cartoonlike bubble, she looked around in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. She didn’t pull it off.

Leaning against the wall, a self-assured smile spreading lazily over his face and erasing any doubt about how long he’d been standing there, was Nick.

She tried to blame it on her steamy musings, but he seemed even sexier than before. His fresh-from-the-shower appeal only served to strengthen
the energy that seemed to radiate from him. It certainly energized her. She took in his appearance all at once, and it was like grabbing a hot wire. His faded, snug jeans proved her guesses about his well-developed thighs had been correct. She noticed that his knee wasn’t—couldn’t be—bandaged any longer.
What else wasn’t he wearing under those jeans
?

Realizing she was gawking, she returned her gaze to his face—which sent her already electrified system sizzling into overload. His wet black hair was curlier now, the longer strands in the back clinging to his bared neck. Her gaze helplessly tracked the tiny beads of water as they trickled off the ends of his curls, slowly sliding down the side of his jaw.

His low chuckle made her vibrate. She fought the absurd desire to look over his head to see if his thoughts were conveniently on display, as moments ago she had felt hers were.

Feeling silly and defenseless, but mostly embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable state, she had a sudden, desperate need to wipe the smirk off his face. So it was to her horror that she blurted out, “Don’t you own anything that doesn’t fit you like a second skin?” That remark only served to broaden his grin to downright lethal proportions, and she quickly added, “You,
uh, you took a long time getting dressed. You do know we close soon?”

“Would you believe I lost track of time while I was fantasizing about you in the sauna?” Nick’s smile broadened wickedly when her blush deepened to a fiery scarlet. “Picture it. There I am, all relaxed, when I feel a slight draft. I look up, and you’re standing in front of me, wearing one of those thick club towels. One corner is tucked snugly above your breast.”

His seductive words were spoken in that velvety voice. In the back of her mind, she was perversely irritated at how much better his fantasy was than hers. His low groan roused her like a douse of cold water. Not trusting herself to speak, she looked away, snapping the sensual web he was expertly weaving, and stalked past him toward the stairs. At that moment she didn’t care if he followed her or stayed the night.

She stopped just outside the door to the reception area and took a deep, calming breath. Pressing her hands to her cheeks, she willed them to cool off, hoping Eric attributed her flushed skin to a hot shower. She pushed through the door, letting it swing shut behind her.

She didn’t pay attention to the soft thud as the door connected with Nick’s toe, or the colorful string of curses that followed. Her mind
was focused solely on collecting her so-called date and getting the hell out of there before something else happened. Kelly could deal with that dream-weaving devil.

She didn’t stop to consider that she would be spending the next several hours of her life valiantly trying to clear that devil’s good name. Not to mention her own.

Willa found Eric bending low over the counter, facing in the other direction. He had apparently put his charm to use, as Kelly was gone and the place was already locked up. Too rattled to pay attention to what he was doing now, just wanting to leave, she pasted on a bright smile and said in an overly cheerful rush, “Eric, there you are. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

Nick heard Willa’s animated greeting and scowled. He recalled in perfect detail her very expressive face during his improvised sauna scenario. He thought about how much he’d enjoy spending the rest of the night finding out if her body could be as delightfully aroused as her mind. Then he remembered that her body and her mind would be spending the rest of the evening, and possibly the night, with Eric Miller.

Nick felt as if he had just been tackled and left strangely out of sync at a time when he desperately needed to rely on his instincts. Something
about her date with Eric made him uneasy. Whatever she was up to, she was in over her head. He’d hung around hoping he could find out why Miller had been so keen to be alone in Willa’s office, but the door had been locked. So he told himself once again that his decision to follow them on her date was in his best interests and had nothing to do with any protective feelings he might have for Willa.

Nick pushed through the door. “Hope I’m not interrupting any business.” Willa’s jolt at his inflection on that last word told him his instincts might be right this time. “Forget about me, Willa?” The implication that she’d forgotten him once before was clear, and her skin faded a bit more. The expression on her face should have kept his anger firmly in place; instead he felt like a louse for adding to her obvious distress.

“Logan, what are you still doing here?” Eric’s tone made it clear he suspected Willa’s late arrival might have something to do with Nick.

“That seems to be the popular question this evening.” Nick moved slowly toward the door, his unbandaged knee making him lean heavily on the cane. “The fact is, I’d like to leave this den of hospitality, if someone wouldn’t mind unlocking the door.”

“Since everyone else is gone, why don’t we all leave together? Eric, are you coming?”

Nick moved to open the door, but was almost trampled as Eric hurried to get there first. He caught Willa rolling her eyes at Miller’s macho “I’m her date, I’ll get the door” theatrics and couldn’t resist temptation. A grin split his face as he casually stuck out his cane in a standing-ovation variety of “no, let me” comebacks. When Eric stumbled, Nick pressed his advantage and leaned on the door so that Eric went sailing right on out before recovering his balance. Nick turned to Willa in time to catch the grin on her face before she smoothed it into a reproachful glare.

Still, her lips twitched when Nick gave her a courtly bow and very calmly said, “After you, madam.”

As she passed through the door Nick let his gaze travel over Willa’s khaki-covered backside as his hand slid down the glass door to the handle. He carefully pressed the button to prevent the door from locking automatically and hoped Willa and Eric would make an early night of it.

Now that the time had come to put her plan in motion, Willa began to have serious doubts. “Do you need a ride?” she asked Nick, not caring
at this point what meaning he might read into her request.

“No, thanks. Gave up my stick shift and leased an automatic after my knee surgery. Other than looking a bit awkward getting in and out, it’s no problem.”

Nick bent down and grabbed his old leather bag that he’d dropped while holding the door. Willa found her gaze drawn to the fluid motion of flexing muscle as he bent over. The athletic grace of his huge body was breathtaking, and she couldn’t imagine him being awkward at much of anything.

After Nick waved them off, Eric shepherded Willa toward his Porsche. It looked sinister somehow; an icy glow seemed to emanate from the glossy black finish as the rising moon caressed its sleek curves with an otherworldly light. An uncontrollable shiver slithered down her spine.

Willa quickly decided she needed space and some time to get her act together before facing the evening ahead. She ducked out from under his arm.

“Why don’t I meet you at the restaurant?” Forestalling his objection, she continued, “I hate leaving my car in an empty lot. I know it’s nothing fancy,” she said, gesturing to her small red Honda, “but it’s all I’ve got.”

She waved and turned away, pretending not to notice his disgruntled expression. It took all of her willpower not to run to her car and lock herself inside.

Eric left the table for at least the third time since they’d arrived. Willa stifled a yawn and toyed with the stem of her wineglass. Reviewing the evening, she came to the only conclusion possible: Mata Hari she wasn’t. Eric had been so busy ranting and raving about his unfair treatment by the Jaguars coaching staff this season that she hadn’t gotten a word in. Eric had always been self-centered, but tonight he’d seemed almost paranoid.

Too tired to analyze that thought, she glanced again at the archway leading to the front of the restaurant and the rest rooms. She debated taking another sip of the outrageously costly wine she’d insisted Eric order—smiling as she recalled Nick’s request that she order something big and expensive—but shrugged instead and pushed to her feet. She swayed a bit and paused to get her bearings. She wasn’t drunk; she’d barely finished one glass of wine, but her plan to order entrée after expensive entrée had died on the first whiff of seafood. It was one of her favorite things to eat,
so she figured it must be the company that made her stomach churn.

Stifling a yawn, she headed to the front of the restaurant, not caring what the hostess thought about her leaving without her date. She barely suppressed a giggle as it occurred to her that Eric probably wouldn’t even notice she’d left.

“Willa? Where are you going?”

Damn. Almost made it
. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Eric. “I’m sorry, Eric, but it’s late and I’m very tired. You kept disappearing, so I just thought …” She purposely trailed off, hoping he’d pick up on her light accusation and take the defensive position for a change.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that.” His frown faded quickly, though, and he added, “Let me take care of the bill and I’ll be right back.”

Willa nodded tiredly and leaned against the wall.

Eric reappeared minutes later. “Sorry, the waitress took forever.”

It occurred to her that Eric always managed to put the blame on someone else, but had little time to ponder that thought as he threw his arm around her shoulder and ushered her out the door. Caught off guard, Willa stumbled along, unable to get her balance long enough to shrug off his unwanted embrace.

Steering her toward his car, he asked, “Are you up for some dancing? Or maybe a drink? Someplace private.”

Willa didn’t try to hide her amazement at his total lack of regard for her very obvious fatigue. He hadn’t even noticed that she drank dinner. She all but snorted in disgust.

At a complete loss for words, she remained silent until he opened his passenger door, gestured her inside, and asked, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Eric, I’m sorry, but it’s been a really long day. I really have to head home.” Willa tried to duck back out from under his arm.

Miffed at her refusal, Eric rebounded quickly, flashing that cereal-box grin as he tightened his hold on her, preventing her escape. “When will I see you again?”

Her acting ability long since depleted, she managed a weak smile while she struggled for the right words—ones that would get him to leave as quickly as possible without destroying her hopes of getting information out of him later.

Eric, interpreting her pause as a refusal to go out with him again, veered sharply from the polite cereal-ad athlete to the spoiled star used to people granting his every whim. “What is it, Willa? I’m not good enough for you now?”

He turned suddenly, pinning her loosely between his body and his car. Willa was a little surprised by his mercurial mood swing, but didn’t think he meant her any real harm.

“Is there someone else? Logan, maybe?” Eric leaned a little closer. Whatever he saw in Willa’s eyes seemed to confirm his suspicions. “I should have suspected something was up when you two were so late coming upstairs.”

Alarm signals began going off in her tired brain. Now that he’d moved closer, she could see the unnatural brightness in his eyes. The depth of her stupidity would have shamed her if she hadn’t been so frightened. How could she have missed it? His many trips to the men’s room, his strange mood swings, his paranoia … Nick was right, Eric was using drugs. Heavily, if tonight was any indication. She suddenly recalled how she’d found him bent over the reception desk earlier. Had he been snorting cocaine right in the club? She had to get away from Eric.

It took all of her remaining willpower, but she managed to force her features into what she hoped was a calm mask. “I only met Mr. Logan yesterday. I’m just his trainer.” She wondered if she sounded convincing. “I went out with you because you wanted us to act like adults and be friends.”

Her emphasis on the word “friends” had the opposite effect than the one she’d hoped for. He shocked her by pulling her roughly against him.

“Friends, huh?” he ground out. “I’ll show you friends.” He bent his head as if he meant to kiss her, but stopped a mere inch from her face, his pupils dilated. “You may have been the naive little virgin, but we both know that isn’t the case anymore, don’t we, Willa?”

Initially frozen by his surprising move, Willa managed to gather her wits as he lowered his face the last inch. She wrenched to her left while pushing at his chest. Eric wasn’t prepared for her sudden move and stumbled back, letting go of her.

Trembling, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I think that you should leave.” Eric sobered a bit at her quiet request, but when he took a step toward her, she raised a hand. “Now. Good night, Eric.”

Eric swore at her as he slammed the passenger door shut and stormed to the other side. Willa closed her mind to his ugly words, barely turning in time to avoid the spray of gravel when he gunned the powerful engine and squealed out of the parking lot.

Gulping in air, Willa leaned weakly on her car. She purposely shut out all of the emotions threatening
to swamp her in the aftermath of the near violence she’d just experienced. She hugged herself tightly, but couldn’t seem to stop shaking. That, combined with exhaustion and the wine she had consumed on a daylong empty stomach was her excuse when she began to giggle. Ignoring the slightly hysterical edge, she said, “This spy stuff sure isn’t as easy as it looks on TV,” then promptly fainted on the hood of her car.