The Naughty Angel Returns (Naughty Angels In Love) (5 page)

She relaxed, letting out a sigh, glad for the temporary reprieve. As she relaxed, a warm, familiar, sexy aura seemed to reach out to her. Crispin! Her lips tingled, and her nipples pebbled under Crispin's pajama top. He was nearby, close enough to seduce, but she had a job to do, something about telling him the truth and most likely having Max instantly recall her for breaking the rules. She hesitated. She'd found out just how delicious he could be last night, and it would be pure torture to let that go, but she couldn't go back on her decision.

Shit, he had company. It was a good thing she'd tossed on the pajama top. His voice was pitched low, and he sounded gruff. What the heck? He sounded angry. Danger signals sent her nerves skittering, and she clutched the flashlight tighter as she leaned forward to listen.

What if he was with somebody dangerous? Raising the flashlight, she tiptoed to the doorway, her heart racing. As she peeked into his office to see whom he was talking to, she almost laughed with relief. He was dictating notes into a tape recorder instead of sparring with a dangerous opponent. Her shoulders slumped with relief until she heard him say her name.

“The subject, Ms. Aims, is…obviously hysterical and holding back vital information. I should never have taken her away without telling the authorities. I need to take her back to the…”

The rest of his words were lost in a blur of shock. He was going to send her away! She frowned at his profile and the mini-handheld tape recorder in his hand. Even worse, he thought she was hysterical and lying to him. Well, he was right about the second part—she was lying to him. She felt all her newfound confidence crumble as she gazed at him, willing him to see her, feel her, and stop talking, but he remained oblivious to her presence. Annoyance and frustration warred within her as she stepped into the room.

There was no way he'd believe her when she gave him the killer's true identity now. And what's more, if she told him the truth about her reincarnation, he'd think she was doubly loony. See me, damn it, she thought, and as if by magic he turned to look at her, snapping off his tape player in the process.

“You planning to brain me with that?” he asked, looking at the flashlight in her hand.

Chagrined, she looked down at the flashlight clutched so tight that her fingers had gone white. She couldn't help wondering if the rest of her was that pale shade when his concerned gaze lingered on her face. She set the flashlight down on the file cabinet, trying to compose herself. “I thought he might be lurking nearby,” she said. Her words sounded desperate to her own ears. She supposed she did come off as hysterical.

Telling him that he couldn't just send her away wouldn't work, and neither would blurting out the truth. There had to be another way. Maybe she could seduce him out of it. She looked up at Crispin and gave him her best come-hither smile, knowing she needed to divert him. “I think I need you conscious for what I have planned for you.” She watched the heat flare in Crispin's eyes as she approached him. Good, she was distracting him.

“Same here. But much as I want to fuck you until you can't walk, we need to talk,” he said, reaching out to snag her hand.

Tugged off balance, she tumbled against him with a gasp. And then he pulled her to sit astride him, and she moaned when her bare thighs brushed against his denim-clad ones. Startled, she scowled up at him, but his determined expression said that he wasn't likely to let her go. “Damn it all, Crispin. I am not crazy, so stop manhandling me.”

“I never said that you were crazy,” he said with a half smile. “Only that you were suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.”

“Oh,” she grumbled but realized he was right. If he made good on his threat to send her away, then they both were toast. She had to talk him out of it, but when she moved, her bare sex ground against him, making them both gasp. “Don't think you're going to distract me with sex,” she said, blushing because that's what she'd been attempting. Then his hot gaze swept over her body, and her nipples budded for him while her sex creamed. The dark flare of his eyes told her he noticed.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he said, bending to kiss her. “We'll work on your tendency to lie, precious.”

The pet name made her think of rumpled sheets and bare skin. Driving back the memory, she frowned at him. Just what deep, dark secret did he think she was keeping? She had too many of them to count. Then his mouth slanted over hers, and her resistance melted like ice cream on the Fourth of July. Her arms went around his neck, and she gasped as her tingling nipples brushed against his broad chest. He took advantage of her open mouth and surged his tongue inside, demanding her surrender. The still-cognizant part of her mind told her this was no way to negotiate, and she started to pull back.

Feeling her withdrawal, Crispin pushed the pajama top off her shoulders, baring her breasts and restraining her. She grumbled, finding her arms pinned at her sides by the top, but then his hands cupped her breasts, and she moaned, arching her back for him, sticking her breasts out for his touch. And he gave her what she craved, bending to suck one hard nipple into his mouth, drawing on the tingling peak until it was rock hard and she was squirming on his lap. He moved on to pay her other peak the same due, and she became a quivering pile of desire.

Pushing up the pajama top high on her thighs, he bared her sex, lightly stroking her pussy and driving her mad. She knew she was wet and creamy for him, and still, he casually toyed with her. “Please,” she said with a gasp, as her sex throbbed aching for his possession.

“We need to get a few things straight first.”

She knew she was being played, that he was using sex to control her, and the feisty part of her resented it, while the submissive part of her melted. “Such as?”

“No more lies,” he said, giving her clit a pinch.

She let out a gasp as pain and pleasure rocked through her. “Agreed,” she said with a whimper. Out of her mind with desire, she pressed against his tantalizing fingers, begging for more.

“You're mine,” he said with a growl, rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Say it.”

“I'm yours,” she said with a gasp, arching out at him.

Then he unzipped his pants and entered her in one frantic thrust. “Mine.”

“Yes.” Haley moaned, wrapping her legs around him as Crispin cupped her bottom with his big hands. Holding her still, he controlled the pace, pulling out of her until she sobbed at his retreat and then rocking back into her until he filled her completely. Letting go, melting against him, she rode his passionate flow until he was slamming into her and her sex was milking at him, quivering. Gasping, rippling, tugging at his surging cock, she exploded, seeing stars behind her closed eyes. He surged into her once more with a hoarse cry of completion.

Drifting back to earth on an orgasmic cloud, Haley cuddled against Crispin's hot body, held tight in his arms. Their hearts were beating in tandem, and it made her feel even closer to him. He'd made her promise not to tell him lies. She couldn't go back on the oath. How on earth was she going to complete her mission? Maybe if she proposed a liaison of sorts to solve the crime, she could feed him the bits of data he needed to catch Trevor without breaking the rules. “You know, I have a proposal for you…”

* * * * *

Crispin's arms tightened around Haley. She wanted to marry him. He was stunned. He only wanted to hold on tighter. It echoed his crazy feelings that she was the one woman meant for him. Hell, she wasn't the only one with secrets. He was a loser when it came to love, and he'd sworn he'd never give his heart to anyone again. His ex Melanie hadn't liked it when he'd gone from soldier to journalist. She'd found him too boring. And he realized too late that having him home would get in the way of her screwing around on him. But past mistakes didn't matter when he held Haley in his arms. Besides, he had an odd knowledge that Haley wouldn't cheat on a man she loved. Why was he thinking of the
L
word so soon?

She felt like forever to him. Even so, he knew it was way too soon for him to be thinking about her that way. Shit, this was probably just another way for her to keep him off balance. The troublesome part was his inclination to hold on tight and put his brand on her. He felt like she'd bewitched him, and worse, he wasn't unhappy at the idea.

At his silence, she stiffened in his arms and then pushed away.

He let her go, taking in her sexily rumpled appearance with masculine assurance. At least he knew she wasn't lying to him when he was doing her. His earthy angel. Her lips were kiss swollen, her nipples rosy, and the scent of sex hung heavy in the air. Foolishly he wanted nothing more than to go in for seconds. But the troubled look on her face stopped him. It wasn't the fury of a jilted woman. Instead he saw embarrassment.

“Um… I hope you didn't think I meant marriage,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “You might be hot in bed, but I've only known you two days.”

His gut tightened at the rejection, but he nodded calmly at her words. Shit, he'd known she hadn't meant it, so why feel disappointed? But the hungry look in her eyes belied her words. Like she felt him deeply and forever, like he felt her. Wishful thinking, he knew, telling himself to suck it up. “Then what kind of proposal are you making?” he demanded, knowing he sounded gruff. She eased back a little more until she was damned near falling off his lap, and the feeling that he was losing her intensified.

“That we work together as partners to solve this crime,” she said briskly.

That approach he hadn't expected. He understood her need for vengeance, but she didn't know what she was asking. “Sorry. I won't let you put yourself in that sort of danger.”

She frowned up at him. “Before you start pulling your macho, protective act, I might as well tell you that I'm in this with or without you.”

Stubborn woman, but that was part of her charm. He gazed at her, watching her chin rise defiantly. “Then I have some conditions.”

“Such as?” she asked cautiously.

“I have a friend at the FBI. We're going to contact him and get him working with us.” He watched her eyes cloud over for a moment, but then she relented with a nod.

“Fine, but I'm not sure it's a good idea,” she said with a sigh.

He could understand where she was coming from, given her assertion that the fiend who'd attacked her wasn't a copycat. If that were true, the Feds had totally dropped the ball. But Harry, his contact in the FBI, thought outside the box and would also keep his mouth shut. “Trust me on this,” he said and relaxed when she nodded, looking up at him with trust in her eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wanting to live up to it.

She bent forward to place a kiss on his jaw. “I do trust you, Crispin.”

“Good,” he said, his arms tightening around her. “Also, if we do this, you have to obey my every command,” he said, his hand sweeping down her back to cup the lush globes of her ass.

She purred, arching her hips out for him. “Of course, master. Your wish is my command.”

He smiled and pulled back his hand to give her a swat. It was going to be a challenge taming her, and he was always up for a challenge. He'd keep her spanked, safe, and satisfied while he caught the bastard who'd dared to touch her.

Chapter Five

Crispin slanted a cautious look Haley's way as he drove them toward the FBI field station, prepared to have her try to bolt, even though she'd agreed to this. She was wearing his clothes because she hadn't wanted to put on the stolen ones. His appreciative glance swept over her in his army T-shirt, shorts, and an old pair of tennis shoes his kid sister had left behind. She looked natural and totally hot. Knowing she was wearing a pair of knit boxers for underwear and no bra made him hard as a rock.

He'd offered to take her shopping after this, and she'd been thrilled, a shocking reaction for a model who'd probably traveled the world. Wherever she came from, she was sure to have a wardrobe that would put anything the local discount store carried to shame, but she didn't even want to discuss sending for her things. One thing was for sure: Haley was a puzzle he needed to figure out.

He'd explained that he had a trusted source at the bureau, but he wasn't sure she'd believed him. After extracting her promise to be truthful, he hadn't detected any lies, but he had felt her trying to hold something back from him. “Now when we get there, I want you to follow my lead.”

“Yes, master,” she sassed with a distracted smile.

“I'm dead serious, sweetheart. I'm not letting you take any chances. You go where I tell you to go, and stay within my sight and on my left side when we get out of the car.”

“So I don't get in the way of your gun hand,” she teased.

She was right. He was armed, but he hadn't planned to tell her, thinking it would alarm her. “I haven't always been a desk jockey, sweetheart.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, she shivered, and he wondered if she was reliving the attack. Hell, if he'd been in her shoes, he'd have been a little crazy too. He hated to have to put her through this, but it was the only way to keep her safe. “If you like, we can ask Harry to come to my place.”

“No. I need to face this.” She sucked in a deep breath, her spine going rigid.

He admired her spunk, even if he wasn't sure that she was up for this. He got out of the vehicle and walked around the car to open her door, frowning at her when she tried to open it on her own. She settled back down and rolled her eyes. So she thought he was being overprotective. It was his prerogative after sleeping with her. She'd placed herself in his hands this morning, and he was holding her to it. A thought of her in leather restraints flashed through his head, and he smiled. He knew just how he'd discipline her if she defied him.