Читать книгу Red Shoes and A Diary - Mia Zachary - Страница 11

My whole body, my whole being, is on fire for his touch. I am overcome by need, ripe with longing for a man I’ve never met before and don’t intend to see again.

“GOOD EVENING, Miss Meghan. Good evening, sir.”

The maitre d’ of Breezes welcomed them as they approached the entrance. He led them toward an intimate table overlooking the Gulf. “Enjoy your meal.”

She started to sit, but Nick took her arm. Her skin tingled at his touch and she turned her head to look up at him. He seemed distracted and an odd expression crossed his face, one she couldn’t interpret.

“Is something wrong?”

He smiled, but his gaze still focused over her shoulder as he maneuvered her to the opposite chair. “You’ll have a better view of the water from here.”

She still didn’t have his full attention. How was she supposed to seduce him if he wouldn’t look at her? When he took his seat, she tried another “Elise move.” She leaned back in her chair, resting her left elbow on the arm. Her fingers skimmed across her collarbone, back and forth.

She had all of his attention now. The look in his light green eyes could only be described as penetrating, his expression a heady blend of fascination and desire. Knowing that Nick wanted her sent a jolt of excitement through her. She felt powerful, feminine, wildly erotic.

She watched Nick watching her. His gaze slowly roamed her body, pausing on her breasts. She wondered if he was undressing her with his eyes. Arousal warmed her skin and sent pulses of desire throughout her body. She met his grin with a confident smile of her own.

If he were to undress her now, he’d discover her delicious secret. She shifted on her chair, uncrossing her ankles to enjoy the slide of one bare leg against the other. The change of position made her intensely aware of her new thong panties.

With a quiet intake of breath, she imagined Nick’s fingertips delving under the satin edge, stroking her damp flesh… Heat rushed to her cheeks as she took a sip of her water, hoping to cool off.

“You’re staring at me, Nick.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Grinning in smug delight, she basked in the discovery of her new appeal. Maybe clothes did make the woman. She’d traded her glasses for contact lenses and styled her hair into soft ringlets. Julie’s skillfully applied cosmetics emphasized her eyes and transformed her lips into a sultry pout. Meghan almost hadn’t recognized herself in the mirror.

The dress she’d borrowed had looked so sweet and breezy hanging in the closet. Its pale-pink color and flared skirt seemed too innocent for seduction. Julie had smirked, then convinced her to try it on.

Ooh, baby.

“Do you like what you see?”

“You know I do, Trouble.”

The waiter came back to take their orders. Nick asked for a manly portion of red meat and potatoes while she chose the prawns in beurre blanc with wild mushroom risotto. She couldn’t help but giggle over their choice of entrees. Opposites did attract. The pivotal question was, would they wrinkle the sheets anytime soon?

Nick rested his elbows on the table and laced his fingers. He tilted his head, regarding her with an attentive expression and a raised eyebrow. “So tell me more about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned back, dropping her hands to her lap. The whole point of acting out her fantasies was to keep things impersonal. If they knew too much about each other, it might cause complications at the end of the week.

“Where’s the fun in knowing everything? There won’t be any secrets or surprises left to discover.”

A shadow crossed his features, darkened his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to settle for whatever you reveal.”

“I’m five-feet eight-inches tall. I refuse to tell you my weight.” She batted her lashes.

“Fascinating.” His tone of voice belied the word. “I’m more interested in whether you’re seeing anyone, if you have plans for tomorrow and whether you sleep in the nude.”

She smiled at the waiter who brought her salad before turning her attention back to Nick. “Not involved. No plans. Not telling.”

“You’re on vacation. Why not try something different, something you’ve never done before?” His voice was rich with challenge, low and sexy.

Meghan drew in a quick breath. Was she that obvious? If so, seducing Nick would be easier than she’d thought. “I’d love to be adventurous. Do you have any ideas?”

“How about joining me for a tour of the Dry Tortugas? The national park is supposed to have great snorkeling.”

Snorkeling? Unless it was a new euphemism for sex, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “Um, sure. That sounds fun.”

“Is there something else you want to do instead?”

She hesitated. Did she dare mention it? Elise would. “My sister told me there’s a nude beach on the southwest shore.”

“I prefer to show my body to only one woman at a time, thanks. I sleep naked, though, in case you wondered.”

What a visual. Nick’s long, lean body stretched across a white sheet wearing only a fine gloss of sweat…

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She tried to match his casual tone but the catch in her voice betrayed her interest. Had it been this hot a minute ago? She took another sip of her wine.

“On the other hand, you don’t strike me as the au naturel type. I’ll bet you sleep in one of those lace things I saw in your luggage.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Meghan shot him a coy glance from under her lashes and wriggled her brows.

He flashed her the friendly-sexy grin. “Want to play the Fashion Model and the Photographer?”

She laughed, her fork paused in midair. “What’s with you and the theme games?”

“A guy can dream.”

“Dream on, Nick.” She lowered her voice, made her tone alluring, and changed a phrase that was normally a rebuff into an invitation.

It seemed she’d found a guy who liked fantasies almost as much as she. Could he be any more perfect? Nick was definitely her Mr. Fabulous. All she had to do was find the right time to mention her plan.

“You have salad dressing on your mouth, Meghan. Want me to get it for you?”

“No, but thanks for offering.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he shifted around in his seat as he watched her lick the drop of Creamy Italian from her lip. She really wanted to be licking his lips. And neck and chest and stomach and… And if she didn’t stop picturing him naked she was going to explode right here and now.

“Okay, Trouble. Quit holding out on me and get personal.”

She wanted to get personal all right. But not about her snuggly flannel pajamas. “I usually just sleep in my panties.”

“Which panties? The tiny little blue ones with—?”

“Start talking, Nick. I’m not going to be the only one playing True Confessions. Where’s the most unusual place you ever had sex? Do you self-indulge in bed or the shower? How do you like to—?”

“Hold it.” He looked a little shocked. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to be so blunt. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Chicken.”

“Fine. I once had sex in a stalled elevator for two hours.”

Her pulse quickened and she reminded herself to breathe. One of the entries in her diary involved an elevator, a strange man and a melting pint of ice cream. “You were stuck for two hours or had sex for two hours?”

“Sex for two hours. Impressed?”

“That depends. Are you bragging or flirting?”

He turned his smile up a notch, a cocky expression on his handsome face. His smoke-roughened voice dropped to a purr of sound. “There’re two things I do well, darlin’. And flirting is the other one.”

Omigod. Now it was really hot. Well, she could flirt too. She slipped off her right sandal and crossed her legs at the knee. She wiggled her foot until it came in contact with his ankle. Nick shifted as though it had been an accident, so she did it again, this time rubbing her toes along his shin.

His beautiful green eyes issued an invitation from their smoldering depths. Her heart fluttered and a sweet tingling pressure bubbled in her belly.

“Seems like there’s a storm brewing.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“It might be the right time for that rain check.”

She grinned at his reference to the rain check for seeing her in the red lace panties, then lied through her teeth. “I’m not the least bit wet…”

“Watch out. Some men would take that as a challenge.”

“Some men might not be up to the challenge.”

“I consider myself a man who’s outstanding in that regard.”

Meghan rested her chin on clasped hands, looking him over slowly. “That’s a very healthy ego you’ve got, Nick.”

“I also have very healthy…appetites.”

The sensual hunger his voice conveyed sent a rush of need straight between her thighs. All of her senses were aroused, making her hyperaware of the gorgeous male sitting across from her. Ask him. Just come right out and ask him.

A dark form caught her attention and she turned to see the maitre d’. He apologized for the intrusion before leaning down to murmur in Nick’s ear.

“Now?” His brows drew together and the corners of his mouth turned down. He cursed under his breath in annoyance. “Thank you.”

“What’s the matter?” She stared in amazement and her sexual anticipation evaporated like mist. The charming man she’d been talking to had vanished before her eyes. A stranger with tight features and a hard voice sat in his place.

“Nick?”

He looked up as if she’d startled him. He glanced over her shoulder, still frowning, then his expression cleared. “I’m sorry, Meghan. There’s some business I’ve got to take care of.”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation, too.”

“A working vacation, remember? I’m here at the request of an important client. Since he’s footing the bill, I can’t ignore him—as much as I’d like to.”

“Do you have to leave right now? You haven’t eaten yet.” It was a lame attempt to keep him there and they both knew it.

He pasted on a smile but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry. This can’t wait. I’ll see you later, I promise.”

Hugging her arms about her waist, Meghan watched him walk away. Her fantasy deserted her with every step he took. This was hardly the way she’d imagined the night would end. She glanced around the restaurant. Everyone was probably snickering at the pitiful woman who’d been dumped by her date.

So much for being a Sex Goddess in Training.

ALEX SLAMMED THE DOOR of his suite behind FBI Special Agent Emelio Sanchez, his partner since being assigned to the Special Operations Division and his best friend since college.

Emelio tossed a handful of cashews into his mouth as he walked into the living room. “You’re pissed because I interrupted some dinner date? Meantime, I had to raid the minibar for a meal.” He rolled his eyes as he sank into an armchair and planted his heels on the coffee table.

Yeah, he was pissed. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so completely fascinated by a woman. “This had better be good.”

“It is good, man. I just got word that Frankie Ramos’s yacht, the Cielo Blanco, is docked over on Key West.”

Alex stopped pacing and bared his teeth in a feral grin. “So, Braga’s boss finally surfaced. Excellent.”

“Well, the boat’s here. He’s not on it.”

“What? Where is he?”

Emelio scowled and ducked his head. “We’re not sure yet.”

The image of Meghan’s face filled his mind, followed by an image of that body in that dress. “Great, partner. My dinner’s cold and my date is probably colder. You dragged me up here for—”

“I dragged you up here because Easton wants you to call him. Pronto, if not sooner, and I’m quoting.” Brent Easton was their direct supervisor at the SOD. He was also a demanding son of a bitch.

“Shit. That can’t possibly be good.” Alex dropped onto the couch and massaged the still tender scar on his temple. “We better find out where Ramos has gone to ground.”

“It’s only a matter of time. We’ll get him.”

“That’s what you said six weeks ago,” Alex grumbled.

His partner’s voice was deceptively calm when he made an anatomically impossible suggestion.

“Sorry, Em. That was a lousy thing to say.” Alex dragged both hands through his hair, sighing heavily.

“Forget it.” Emelio crumpled the empty nut bag in his fist and arced it into the trashcan.

“This case should have been one for the books. Instead we’re scrambling to recover ground.” Alex had taken the lead after his friend got too close to a witness, an informant he’d felt sorry for. Gina had been a young woman caught in an impossible situation. She’d had no real choice but to betray him. Now, Braga, and who knew how many others could make Emelio for a cop.

“Let’s not rehash old business, partner.”

Emelio was right, but that incident had been a turning point in Alex’s career. Problem was, he didn’t know which way it had pushed him. Concentrate on the here and now, he told himself. “Okay. What have you heard?”

“Word on the street says Ramos is really losing it.” Emelio grabbed two beers out of the minibar and passed one over. “Spends more time supporting his habit than taking care of business. Some of the laundered money might even be in his private accounts instead of the cartel’s.”

Alex whistled in mock admiration. “Frankie must have balls of cold-rolled steel. Drug czars aren’t exactly known for their benevolence.”

“That or the shit he’s putting up his nose has fried his brain cells. Let’s focus on him. If we can break Ramos, he’ll flip on the rest in exchange for a light sentence.”

Alex rolled the beer bottle between his palms. “Rogelio Braga needs to be watched. I don’t think it’s a coincidence he invited me here this particular week.”

Em shook his head. “Forget Braga for now. If we get Ramos, we break the Miami cartel. Cocaine addiction makes a man paranoid and unpredictable, but it also makes him vulnerable.”

“Something big is going down. Braga had dinner with some heavy hitters tonight.” Alex stared at the ceiling, speaking slowly, running scenarios in his head. “He’s gathering his strength for a change of leadership. That’s going to fall out on participants, bystanders and innocents alike.”

“You’ve never been innocent, man.” Emelio scoffed, trying to make a joke of his concern.

But Alex hoped that Meghan was. He pulled the slim blue journal from his jacket. “Listen. I need you to run a check on somebody. Name’s Meghan Elise Foster. Her luggage is from Baltimore. Find out for me if she’s legit.”

“I take it she was your date.” Emelio studied his face, seeing more than Alex wanted him to, as usual. “You think the lady is a player?”

“Could be. She was cozy with Braga earlier tonight. Then she came on to me. There’s another factor that points to her innocence, but I need to be sure.”

His partner nodded. “I’ll put her name through the usual databases and see if I come up with anything. In the meantime, order me some food, will you? I’m starving.”

Alex called room service and ordered for both of them. It didn’t look like he’d get back to Meghan after all. Next he dialed from memory a number in Miami. The first call would automatically transfer to another line in case anyone checked the resort’s telephone log. While the phone rang, he lay back on the couch and adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“Hello? This is Brent Easton.”

Alex didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “It’s me. Em is with me. We’re checking in.”

Easton’s voice boomed over the telephone line. “Where the hell have you two been? I paged him an hour ago!”

“We’re making progress.”

“You’d better be. I’m getting flak from above and, trust me, I intend to send it down your way.”

Didn’t he always? Alex held onto his patience with effort. “Braga contacted me, though we haven’t hooked up. Em has solid information that Ramos is on his way here, if he’s not here already.”

“It’s a decent start but you have to move on this. You’ve got the rest of the week to get squared away. After that, the Ramos case is turned over to someone else.”

“The hell it is!” Alex sat up so quickly the pillow fell to the floor. He struggled to hold onto his temper, which had been dangerously short of late. “We’ve been building the case against Ramos for two years, Brent. You’re not taking us off it. Not when we’re so close—”

“You’d better play this one by the book, Alex. Do you hear me? Any action you take will be called into question until Internal Affairs clears you on the shooting.”

He scowled. Like he needed the reminder. Both he and Emelio had been on admin probation until this latest break in the case. “IAD can kiss my ass. I did what I had to to get the job done.”

“You know, you’ve got a real attitude problem lately.”

“Yeah, well, you can tell me all about it when you quit riding a desk. I haven’t lost my edge,” he said it as much to convince himself as his boss.

“Hell, if anything, your edges are too jagged,” Brent muttered. “Bring me up to speed.”

“‘Nick Alexander’ is definitely going to be brought into play. Since Manny Ortega got busted, Ramos needs another underground banker for the Miami operation. I’ll use Braga to get to him and get the info we need.”

“The Attorney General is demanding enough evidence to present to a federal grand jury. She wants it yesterday. Don’t screw up on this one.”

The line went dead before Alex could say another word. He hung up the phone, then looked around for his cigarettes. He felt the past stalking him like a dark shadow. Maybe he had lost his edge, those sharp instincts that too often meant the difference between making or breaking a case. Overtown had been a major screw-up. His.

He should have seen it coming. Somehow, he should have seen it. Emelio got too close to their informant but Alex backed him up in front of the brass, despite his misgivings. As a result, two people died and the bad guys got in the wind.

The underlying guilt made him think about Greg. Not long after he joined the DEA, his younger brother overdosed. All Greg’s life, Alex did his best to protect him. It was a hard truth to face that his best hadn’t been good enough.

Had it ever been enough? How long was it since he felt like he made any kind of difference? For eight years, he’d waded through the cesspool of the drug underworld. He’d kept friends and family at a distance in order to immerse himself in The Life. And still his sacrifices came down to bureaucratic bullshit and overturned convictions.

He was really starting to hate this damned job.

Wandering over to the French doors, he stepped out onto the balcony. He tapped the cigarette pack until one slid out, then pinched off the end. The stress he’d been under lately made it hard to quit. Smoking half a cigarette didn’t seem as bad.

He felt as if he was moving through life instead of living it. There was an emptiness inside him and he wasn’t sure who the hell he was anymore. Two months ago he was Andy Ruiz. Today he was Nick Alexander. And next week? Next month?

Emelio came out to stand beside him, resting his elbows on the railing. “I take it the brass is stepping up the pressure?”

He sucked in nicotine and stared into the distance. “I learned something when I was under deep cover in the Southwest a few years back, hombre.”

Emelio turned his head to look at him.

“I roughed up informants, watched criminals kill each other without losing any sleep. I even went so far as sampling the product to secure my identity. If you can name it, I probably did it.”

“I know, man. Your rep preceded you. What’s your point?”

“Supervisors usually look the other way when you cross the line, just as long as you get results and make them look good. Not this time. This time it’s all on the line.”

“Closing the Ramos case will go a long way to restoring our badges.” Emelio gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But maybe we should look into that investigation firm we’ve talked about.”

Alex shook his head and blew a stream of smoke into the night air. “We’ve got a mission and nothing’s going to keep me from seeing it through. This job means everything to me, Em. It’s all I’ve got.”