Slow Hands (18 page)

Santori visibly relaxed. “She won’t be happy to hear that.”

“Look, it turned out okay—in fact, great—on my end.”

“Spoken like a man in love,” said Detective Stiles with a low snort. She didn’t exactly look like the romantic type.

Hell, he probably was wearing some kind of sappy, guy-in-love grin. Frankly, though, Jake didn’t give a crap. He
was
a sappy guy-in-love.

“Like I said, I’m fine. But I don’t know how the bachelor who was mistaken for me—and got my bio—is feeling about it. Whoever ‘won’ him was expecting a blue collar rescue worker. And, uh, I really
don’t
think that’s who she got.”

“I see,” Santori said. His brown eyes twinkled. Noting the laugh lines on the detective’s face, Jake sensed he was pretty laid-back, when he wasn’t going all alpha in claiming his wife. “Noelle told me about a few of the more high-maintenance guys who showed up that night.”

Jake had no idea whether the real gigolo was high-maintenance or not. He only knew he probably wasn’t the kind of man who’d offer a woman baseball and beer. So whoever he’d ended up with probably had quite a surprise on her hands.

“Anyway, I just wanted her to have a heads-up. We were numbers nineteen and twenty, I think.”

“Got it. Thanks for letting me know, I’ll be sure to pass it along.” He extended his hand, and Jake shook it. “Good to meet you…Wallace, was it?”

Jake nodded.

“Well, I know my wife was thrilled at the money earned that night. It went a long way toward helping meet her annual goal.” He grinned. “From the sound of it, you guys really went through the wringer.”

Groaning, Jake confirmed that. “You have no idea. I now know what a brownie at a Weight Watchers meeting feels like.”

Both the officers were grinning as they murmured their goodbyes and turned to leave, though Jake knew their smiles wouldn’t remain during the very long day ahead of them.

Before they’d gotten more than a few steps away, Jake remembered something. Something big. “Wait!” Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieved his wallet, digging out the folded piece of paper he’d stuck in there the day he and Maddy had gone sailing.

She’d
said
she didn’t care what he did with the money….

“I have another contribution to make,” he said, not hesitating for one second in doing what he knew was the right thing. He had, after all, promised her. “Can you get it to your wife?”

“Of course.”

Borrowing a pen, Jake unfolded the check, looking at it for the very first time. He immediately realized what a good thing it was that he hadn’t lost the thing, because Maddy had filled out the amount, but not the name. As if she wasn’t sure whether he used a different one for “business” or was trying to hide the income. Great. The woman either thought he was a tax dodger or that he’d incorporated himself in the sex trade.

Then again, considering she thought he was a gigolo, he guessed he shouldn’t be surprised.

Writing the name of the charity and grinning when he pictured Noelle Santori’s face, he passed the check over. The detective took it and prepared to carelessly stuff it in his pocket.

“Uh…you might want to put that in your wallet or something.”

“Oh?” Santori finally glanced at the front of the thing, noted the number of zeroes, and muttered, “Holy shit.”

“It’s genuine.”

“I sure hope so. What kind of rat-brained idiot would try to pass off a bad check for needy kids to a cop?”

“I have been accused of being many things, but never a rat-brained idiot.”

The partner, who’d peeked over Santori’s shoulder at the check herself, whistled. “Nice.”

Very nice. Very worthwhile. And now that the check had been lifted from his pocket, Jake felt
very
lighthearted—as though he’d lost thirty pounds.

Or thirty thousand.

T
HE WEDDING REHEARSAL
started at seven, with the dinner taking place right afterward at a nice restaurant in one of the hotels owned by the groom’s family. It was now five. They should be leaving any minute to get there, given Friday rush hour traffic in the city.

Instead, the minute Jake walked out of the elevator and into her place, Maddy jumped on him. Literally. She flew into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and began pressing wild, frantic kisses on his mouth.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered when she paused to take a breath—and let him take one.

“Ditto.” Holding her around the waist with one arm, cupping her bottom with the other hand, he strode straight down the hall toward her bedroom. He kissed her jaw, the side of her neck. “We might be late.”

“Tabby’s never been on time for a thing in her life,” Maddy replied, letting her silky, short bathrobe slip off her shoulders and down her arms. She could have gotten dressed for their evening, as Jake—in a dark blue suit and crisp white dress shirt and tie—had. Instead, as she’d begun pulling on the lingerie she’d bought to wear beneath her new cocktail dress, she’d only been able to picture Jake taking it off her. And so, she hadn’t bothered to finish dressing. “She was an hour late to her first wedding.”

Reaching her bedroom, Jake tossed her onto the middle of her bed, watching with glittering, heated avarice as the robe fell completely down, revealing her black lace bra, black garter belt and sheer stockings.

“Then I guess Tabby won’t mind if we’re just a few minutes late to her rehearsal.”

Maddy lay back on the bed, one leg straight down, the other bent at the knee in invitation. With one hand resting on her stomach, the other brushing through long strands of her loose hair, she gave him a wicked glance that left no doubt about what she wanted. “
Just
a few minutes?”

“After three and a half days without you, I want at least that long inside you,” Jake muttered as he took his jacket off and tossed it onto a chair. “Can we skip tonight altogether?”

She shook her head. “I wish. But I’m the maid of honor, remember?”

“So we…get a little satisfaction now, then come back here tonight and I’ll do you until we have to leave tomorrow for the wedding.”

She shivered at the roughness in his tone, which spoke of his ravenous need. “Deal.”

Jake loosened the tie next, taking a whole lot longer than such a simple chore should take.

“Uh,
FYI?
You’re going way too slow.”

“I said a
little
satisfaction. Not an infinitesimal amount.”

Just her luck. Even when desperate, the man had agonizing patience.

“Hurry up,” she ordered, writhing on the bed.

“Not a chance. We’re not so pressed for time that I’ll rush through something I’ve been fantasizing about for days.”

Fantasizing about her when they weren’t together? That was nice to hear. But it didn’t exactly do anything about the mad heat spiraling through her entire body. “Haven’t you ever heard of a quickie?”

“Yeah. And I want one. Maybe tomorrow, at the reception.” His eyebrows wagged. “Want to meet me in the coatroom?”

Oh, he was wicked. So wicked. Just the thought of it sent a thousand more hot tendrils of electricity straight between her thighs.

“That’s incredibly tempting,” she admitted, meaning it. “But knowing how hard it’s going to be to get myself secure in my dress, I don’t know that I’ll be up for taking it off in the middle of the big event.”

He reached for the top button of his dress shirt, unfastening it with slow deliberation before moving on, watching her watch him. “I’d be there to help you get…put back together.”

After he sent her flying apart, no doubt.

“Unless you’re going to pack a crowbar in your tux to squeeze everything back in, and strong tape to hold it all in place, I think that’ll be impossible.” As it was, she’d had to buy some ridiculous sticky contraptions that were supposed to give her some support. The thought of gluing plastic film to her breasts seemed utterly ridiculous, and she already dreaded it.

The alternative, however, was worse. No way was she going braless.

“Maybe I don’t want you wearing that dress around other guys.” A frown tugged that handsome brow down and he’d stopped unbuttoning.

Jealous? Was that even possible? A little thrill of excitement at the thought of it made her heart roll. “They’ll
see
it. You’ll be the only one
not
seeing it when I take it off.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do.” He stared at her legs. The hose. The garter belt. The tiny black panties. “Getting back to our quickie. Maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about your dress. Wear what you have on now.” Smiling with pure heat, he added, “
Without
the panties. I’ll lift your gown and take you right up against the wall of the closet, daring you not to scream.”

She groaned, her legs clenching, ready to scream right now. “I’d lose that dare.”

He seemed oblivious to her agony, still taking his own sweet time, arousing her word after word, look after look, not having even touched her since he dropped her onto the bed. But at least he resumed working on those double-damned buttons.

Picturing the interlude he’d proposed, she murmured, “Can you imagine trying to walk out of that coat closet into the reception and act normally afterward?”

“You’re going to be doing it tonight at the dinner.”

Confused, Maddy merely stared.

A look of such tenderness appeared on Jake’s face, it took her breath away to think it was directed at her. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how you look after we’ve made love. You wear your happiness on your face for hours afterward.”

Good Lord. Such sweet words
. Had any man ever touched her with just a whisper the way this one had?

Easy to answer. Absolutely not.

“Tonight at the rehearsal you’re going to have that soft smile on your face and that glow in your eyes. Your skin will be flushed and you’ll be a little slow and dreamy in your movements, like your body is there, but every other part of you—heart, mind and soul—is right…back…here.”

Maddy closed her eyes, not wanting him to see what she suspected lurked in them. The sheen of tears—and a whole lot of genuine emotion. Maybe even the love that she’d finally acknowledged, if only to herself, that she felt for the man.

Finally feeling capable of speaking—and looking at him—she opened them again. “Jake, I am so glad I met you.”

“Me, too,” he admitted.

Their stares met, exchanging unspoken emotion, and in that moment, Maddy knew their relationship had just moved up to something else. She wasn’t sure what. Just something. And, to her complete surprise, she wasn’t utterly terrified by that realization.

But there was no time to dwell on it now. Certainly not enough time for them to drag it out and talk about it.

Pursing her lips, Maddy focused her attention on his still-clothed body. “Ahem. Back to our time limits? If you don’t get out of those clothes, I’m going to rip them off you.”

“Then I’d have nothing to wear tonight,” he said with a teasing shrug. “So I guess you’ll have to be patient.”

How could the man drive her so completely mad, yet still remain so in control, just now getting around to pulling his dress shirt off and tossing it aside? Here she was laid out like a
Penthouse
playmate, with the figure and the fantasy lingerie to back it up, and the guy hadn’t even unfastened his belt.

“Is there
anything
I can do to make you go faster?”

He shook his head.

“Maybe I should start without you.”

“Maybe you should.”

That was a challenge. And maybe even a sexy plea.

Maddy accepted, sliding her hand up, letting her fingertips ease a slow, lazy path across her constrained breasts. She rubbed one nipple, already hard and sensitive against the black lace. Then she tugged one bra strap down, releasing her own sensitive mound for his perusal and her own touch.

He growled. And maybe the belt slid through the hoops of his trousers a teensy bit faster.

“Mmm,” she murmured, sliding two fingers against her nipple, toying with it, plucking lightly.

Wanting to see more of that desperate want on his expression, she lowered the other bra strap, then twisted the bra around and unfastened it completely.

“You take my breath away every time I look at you,” he whispered, devouring her with that gaze.

But the man still had his damn pants on.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to try, Jake?” she asked, toying with both peaks now.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

Knowing how fascinated he was by her breasts, he had reason to be.

She sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed and let her stocking-clad legs part to wrap around his. The roughness of his trousers against the silkiness of the lingerie ratcheted up the level of sensation. Rough and soft, sweet and spicy.