Anthology: Bad Boys To Go Part 16
His words came back to her, so accurate and sincere. I look into your eyes and I see a little girl who's carried a wealth of emotional burdens for too many years now, and a woman who is afraid to take chances on what most likely is a sure thing. I see a woman who hides behind her camera, even while she tries to uncover everyone else's secrets.
Adrian knew her well. And she knew without a doubt that he'd taken the pictures of her this morning because he'd wanted her to see what he saw in her. It was all there, insecurities and fears, the gradual sensual blossoming he'd cajoled out of her, and even the love she hadn't realized had found its way into her heart.
She felt something wet trickle down her cheek and wiped away a tear. Then another. She caught sight of a picture of Adrian, the one where he was lying on the blanket near the creek, bare-chested and chewing on a blade of gra.s.s. But it wasn't the s.e.xy smile that drew her, or even the come-hither look in his eyes that told Chayse how much he wanted her. No, it was the scar that started a few inches above the waistband of his shortsa"an injury he'd been so self-conscious of, enough to keep refusing her dozens of attempts to get him to pose for her charity calendar.
She traced the line in the photograph, remembering vividly how that puckered skin had felt beneath her fingers, her lips. She thought of the way she'd confronted Adrian about those scars when she'd arrived at the cabin, how she'd made him face them, deal with them, and not let an old injury affect his decision to do the calendar project. Those scars were a part of who and what he was, she'd told him.
She laughed around another bout of tears and knew she ought to take her own advice to heart. Adrian's scars were on the outside, hers were on the inside, but the suffering and insecurity that came with those wounds were the same. And it was time she confronted her own personal scars, and her past. Face the pain, deal with it, and not let it affect her decision to let Adrian into her life.
A brisk knock on the door startled her, and she stood, swiping at her damp eyes and cheeks as she headed toward the entryway. She looked into the peephole and saw Adrian standing on the other side with a fierce expression on his face. He looked really p.i.s.sed off, and she wondered at the wisdom of letting him inside. Maybe it was better if they had this conversation in the morning, after he'd cooled off a bit.
He banged on the door with his fist, rattling the wood and the chain securing the door. "Open up, Chayse," he ordered in an uncompromising tone. "Or else your neigh-bors are going to hear a very personal conversation out here in the hallway. "
Knowing he was a man as good as his word, and not wanting her neighbors to be privy to her personal life, she unlocked the door and opened it for him. He stormed into her apartment, his entire body fairly crackling with energy and a fury she knew he had every right to feel after the way she'd bolted on him this morning. His hair was tousled around his head, he hadn't shaved since the night before, and he looked not only exhausted but dark and dangerous, as well.
But she didn't fear him. Not at all. That he'd made the effort to figure out where she lived was a very positive thing in her estimation. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be here. And she knew that wasn't the case with Adrian. If anything, he cared too much, and she was lucky to have found a man like him.
She exhaled a deep breath and asked very calmly, "How did you find out where I lived?"
He spun around and jammed his hands on his jean-clad hips. He glared at her, which did nothing to conceal the hurt she detected in his eyes, along with a brighter determination. "It wasn't easy. First, I had to hunt down Mia, who ought to wear a tracking device because I was one step behind her most of the afternoon. Once I found her, I demanded your address, and seeing that she owed me one for giving you the directions to the cabin, she cracked. "
Chayse bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing, certain that Adrian wouldn't appreciate her finding humor at his expense. At least not at the moment, while he was so angry and hurt.
An awkward silence descended between them as he continued to glare at her, and she waved a hand toward the photographs on the coffee table. "Umm, since you're here, you can take a look at the pictures I took and we can decide which ones you'd like to go into the calendar. "
"At the moment, I don't give a d.a.m.n about those pictures!" He stalked toward her, blue fire blazing in his eyes. "That's not why I'm here. "
For every purposeful step he took forward, she took one back, until her bottom hit the edge of the small kitchen table that adjoined the living room. He closed the distance between them, and there was no mistaking the erection straining against the fly of his jeans and pressing against her mound.
His gaze held hers as he tugged on the snap of her pants and ripped open the front placket. A frisson of excitement shot through her, making her feel alive and heady with antic.i.p.ation, something only this man had the ability to trigger within her.
She knew what was going to happen, knew he was going to possess her in themost elemental way possible. Stake his claim on her. Brand her as his. An aggressive, wild mating that would bend her to his will and allow him to release the fury and anger swirling inside him in a purely s.e.xual way. It was Adrian's way. Just like the first time he'd taken her so fiercely at the cabin, when she'd provoked him beyond his restraint.
He dragged her pants and underwear down her legs and yanked them off, then quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and freed his shaft. He lifted her so she was sitting on the edge of the table, and with his hands pressed against her knees, he widened her thighs and fit himself in between. She was already wet and aroused, and his erection slid along her slick flesh, the head of his c.o.c.k burrowing into her weeping s.e.x.
She braced her hands behind her on the table and shuddered, wanting this, but decided she ought to put up at least a token protest. "Adriana what are you doing?"
A muscle in his cheek ticked. "Since you only seem to understand the way my body talks to you, I'm going to let it do the talking for me." He grabbed her a.s.s and jerked her to the edge of the table at the same time he flexed his hips and thrust into her, making her gasp at the depth to which he'd plowed.
He rolled his hips, grinding himself against her s.e.x. "Do you know what my body is saying right now?" he demanded gruffly.
She shook her head, moaning as he slowly withdrew, and quivering as he filled her again. "No. "
"It's telling you that I'm falling in love with you," he said, the tight edge in his voice softening as he pulled back and surged in again. "That I'm not going to ignore what's between us, and I'm not going to let you walk away either." Outa and back in again in a slow, languid stroke that made her melt around him. "I need you in my life, and you sure as h.e.l.l need me in yours. "
Her heart rejoiced, and she slanted him an a.s.sessing glance that gave away nothing of her own emotions just yet. "That's a little arrogant, don't you think?"
Watching her expression, he withdrew, and she whimpered at the loss, then gasped sharply when he returned, burying himself to the hilt. "I'm inside your body, sweetheart. As deep as I can get. I can feel your heartbeat. I can see the emotion in your eyes. I have every right to be arrogant. And demanding. "
"Yes, you do," she agreed solemnly.
And then another revelation struck her. Adrian was all about taking risks, in everything he dida"in his extreme sports, when making love, and even when it came to wearing his heart on his sleeve. As for her, she'd always played it safe, but not anymore. Not if she in-tended to meet this man halfway in all things. And that included trusting him with her heart and emotions. Right here and now.
With him full and heavy and throbbing inside her, she slid her hands into his thick, silky hair and nipped his chin, pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, then looked so deeply into his eyes she thought she'd drown in the unabashed emotion she saw shining there. The adoration. The hope and need that reflected her own.
She smiled and framed his face in her hands, and without any hesitation she said, "Adrian Wilde, I love you. "
With a grateful moan, he captured her mouth with his, kissing her as deeply and fiercely as he plunged into her body. So much pa.s.sion. Earthy and sensual and irresistible.
The ending came fast for both of them, and when his climax rolled through him, she took his harsh groans into her mouth and gave back her own sweet sounds of release.
Amazingly enough, after that physically draining session Adrian seemed to have enough strength to carry her to her bedroom, so she hung on for the ride and gave him directions down the hall. He set her gently on the bed and stretched out beside her, and she knew they still had a few things to discuss. But this time she was ready to face the past and hopefully secure her future.
"Why did you leave the cabin today without waiting for me to return from my run?" he asked as he stroked his fingers along her arm. There was no censure in his tone, no more anger, just the need to understand.
She'd already given him her love, now she gave him her honesty. "I was scareda mostly of what you make me feel, and my first instinct was to run from my emotions. "
"What I make you feel is supposed to be a good thing, sweetheart," he murmured gently.
She stared up at him, feeling like the luckiest girl on planet Earth to have somehow earned this man's patience and understanding. "I know that now, but at the time I wasn't ready to face my feelings, or trust in them. "
"Are you ready now?"
She nodded and whispered, "Yes. "
He lifted a curious brow, obviously wanting more answers, which he fully deserved. "What changed your mind?"
"It was those pictures you took of me this morning. I saw myself through your eyes, just as you'd intended. All my emotions were right there in front of me, and there was no denying how hard and fast I'd fallen for you." She reached out and touched his unshaven jaw, loving the rough, arousing texture against her fingertips. "I don't want to keep living through the pictures I take of other people. I want to make my own storybook of memories, real ones, and I don't want be alone anymore, Adrian. I want to take a chance on a sure thing. I want to take a chance on you. "
"Oh yeah, I like the sound of that." He grinned, looking like the rogue of her dreams, and the man who'd stolen her heart. "But taking a chance on me means being part of my big, crazy family. Think you can handle that?"
Her heart pounded crazily in her chest, the gift he was offering more than she'd ever believed possible. "Oh, Adrian, I would love to be a part of your family. Do you think they can handle me snapping pictures of them when they least expect it?"
He chuckled, the sound reverberating with warmth and a bit of wickedness. "They'll get used to it. "
She sighed blissfully, a huge smile on her face. "With each of us bearing our own scars, we're quite a pair, aren't we?"
"We're a perfect pair." He ran the tip of his finger down the slope of her nose, then he grew serious. "I know this has all happened so quickly, but I promise we'll work this relationship thing out, take whatever time you need to adjust to having me in your life. "
"I don't need any more time, Adrian." Now that he was hers, there was no room left in her heart for uncertainties. She was risking it all. "I chased you for four months and you've just given me the best weekend of my entire life. And I really do love you, and nothing is going to change that. "
"I love you, too, Chayse Douglas." He kissed her lips, softly, reverently, then pulled back and grinned down at her, his eyes bright with tenderness, and something more mischevious. "You know, it's gonna take a lot of years to tame my wild ways, but I do believe you're just the right woman for the job. How do you feel about marrying me and becoming Mrs. Wilde One?"
She forced back the lump of emotion rising in her throat with husky laughter and thought to herself in triumphant awe: He loves me! He really, really loves me!
The knowledge chased away every last bit of Chayse's insecurities, leaving her heart wide open for this incredible man to fill up with his presence, his love. "Yes," she managed to reply around the joyful tears threading her voice. "Yes, Adrian Wilde, I'll marry you. "
Giddy with happiness, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him on top of her, absorbing his declaration and wanting to preserve this precious moment forever, like a rare photograph in her mind. It was a wonderful beginning to her own personal storybook of mental snapshots, and she knew her private alb.u.m would grow to reflect the best years of her life with the Wilde One.
Going After Adam.
Nancy Warren.
Chapter One.
Every time Gretchen Wiest found herself tracking yet another adulterous spousea"and it seemed some days as though her private investigation agency did little elsea"she was glad she was single.
She searched the faces of the pa.s.sengers spilling into the arrivals lounge at San Francisco airport. Her mark was easy to spot, standing a head above most of the travelers and carrying himself with an air of calmness and command that would have caught her attention anywhere. Yep, there was the latest sc.u.msucker now. She curled her lip even as she sank deeper into the turned-up collar of her trench coat.
She glanced down at the photo in her hand because she was a careful professional, but it wasn't necessary. The man striding into the United arrivals area was Adam Stone. He wasn't a man you could mistake once you'd seen his picture. Or forget.
Same black hair, neatly combed but for the one charcoal lock that fell onto his forehead in a Byronic fashion Gretchen decided was contrived. Same deep Irish blue eyes, same rectangular face, same domineering nose, same rugged jaw, same full lips. It was quite a package.
A general's commanding presence, a poet's eyes, a fighter's nose, and a lover's lips.
He glanced her way, almost as though he were aware of her scrutiny, or perhaps her contempt had telegraphed itself, and she hastily looked away. But in the instant their gazes connected she felt his potent s.e.xuality.
Wow. The guy was drool-worthy all right, but Gretchen's drool ducts remained tightly puckered knowing the woman who'd be s...o...b..ring over him this weekend was not his wife.
Gretchen pretended deep interest in the arrivals and departures screen, which Stone would have to pa.s.s. As he did, she turned and accidentally b.u.mped into him. He had a fancy briefcase with a discreet company logo embossed in gold in one hand and a leather backpack in the other. She was aware that his lean build was solid with muscle and that he smelled good as she slipped a tracking device smaller than a dime into his pocket. With a quickly murmured apology she headed in the opposite direction and jogged for the car park.
With his crisp navy suit he looked like dozens of other professionals in for a Friday afternoon meeting. Some would fly back home tonight, some would make a weekend of it. She already knew, thanks to Mrs. Stone's lawyer, that this man planned to make a weekend of ita"she hoped he enjoyed having his picture taken while he was having s.e.x, because unbeknownst to Mr. Stone and his lover, she and her small, high-powered camera were going to be joining the party.
When Gretchen reached her nondescript beige compact, she popped the trunk, removed her trench coat, and tossed it inside, replacing it with a black pea coat. She coiled her hair rapidly into a bun, stuck a funky black felt hat on her head, and colored over her beige lipstick with a bright red.
She slipped into her car and started the ignition. She also activated the small computer screen on her dash where the tracking device showed as a blip. Excellent.
She drove past the cab stand, noting Stone was still three back from the front of the line, and cruised by. She pulled over on the causeway and waited, using the time to call Mrs. Stone's lawyer on her cell phone as she'd been instructed to do the minute she identified Stone.
"Yeah?" a curt male voice answered on the first ring.
She blinked and double-checked the number in her Palm Pilot. She'd expected a receptionist or personal secretary. "Mr. Fisk?"
"Speaking," the voice warmed. "Who's this?"
"It's Gretchen Wiest. You asked me to call the minute I spotted Mr. Stone." She stuck a finger in her free ear, trying to block out the roar of Friday afternoon traffic. "I'm at the airport. He just landed. "
While she spoke, she watched keenly as each cab sped by. She had the tracker as backup, but she planned to play Follow That Cab to be certain she didn't lose Stone.
"The airport?"
"Yes. San Francisco. I'll collect what evidence I can for Mrs. Stone. "
"Excellent. You're certain it's Mr. Stone?"
"Hundred percent. He looks exactly like his photo. "
"Good work, Ms. Wiest. Call me again when he checks in to his hotel. "
"If Adam Stone has meetings first, that could be hours from now." She calculated the time difference between California and Houston. Texas was two hours ahead. Probably Mr. Fisk would be starting his own weekend by the time she knew more, and she'd never leave messages on voice mail with details of an ongoing investigation. There was a short pause. Her car shook as a bus roared past. "Is there another numbera"?"
"No. This will reach me day or night. "
Wow. That divorce lawyer was one dedicated professionala"she wondered if there was an adulterous spouse in his past.
And speaking of adulterous spouses, there was Adam Stone now, cruising by in the back of a yellow cab. She said good-bye to Mrs. Stone's lawyer, let another couple of cars go by, then pulled out into the traffic.
It was easy enough to keep Stone's cab in view. The volume of vehicles on Highway 101 was Friday afternoon heavy, and therefore the going slow and congested enough that she was virtually invisible.
Together, they cruised downtown, Stone in his cab and she in her car, several lengths behind. They pa.s.sed the big hotels where business travelers usually stayed and entered the older residential areas. They drove up hills and down, hit Sutter Street, and finally the cab turned into a side street and pulled up at a turn-of-the-century town house turned hotel.
She gave Stone points for stealth. The guest house was small, quiet, off the beaten track. Just the sort of place she'd stay if she were planning to drop out of sight for a while. None of his business acquaintances would be likely to b.u.mp into him here. He could break his wedding vows in peace.
Or so he thought.
She drove past, circled the block, and returned, finding, miracle of miracles, that a van was pulling out of a parking spot halfway up the block. She pulled her duffel bag from the backseat of her car and retrieved her camera, checked her watch, and typed her notes into her Palm Pilot.
"Okay, sc.u.mbag," she mumbled. "This is for your wife." It was funny, but even with no-fault divorce her casework hadn't diminished. Wives and their lawyers often hired her to track cheating husbands. And the wives al-most always wanted photos of the other women. It was as though they couldn't help themselves. They had to know.
Once she'd updated her notes, and verified the time Stone had entered his guest house, she waited, either for Adam Stone to leave, or for the woman to show.
An hour pa.s.sed and not a single woman entered the small hotel and Adam Stone didn't leave. In her experience, and she had a lot, cheating spouses didn't waste a minute of a dirty weekend. Certainly not an hour.
Patience was the part of her job she found the toughest. She dragged out the paper, read the news, and started on the crossword puzzle. At the end of another hour, her stomach was beginning to growl. She pulled a gra-nola bar from her bag and munched.
Finally, Stone came out of the hotel, still in his business suit. Was he trying to impress his date with his wardrobe? She shook her head and snapped a couple of photos, but he was alone. He glanced up and down the street, then took off at a brisk walk in the opposite direction.
Gretchen waited until he'd turned the corner before she got out of her car and followed him. She took the monitor from her dash and stored it inside her trunka"she'd track him on foot. But he only went as far as a corner grocery. She walked on and pretended great interest in a storefront souvenir shop, admiring toy cable cars and tins of Ghirardelli chocolates decorated with pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge. From the corner of her eye she saw Stone emerge with a brown paper sack.
d.a.m.n. He hadn't gone to meet the woman at all. She wasn't going to get any snaps of them kissing over cappuccinos in an outdoor cafe or playing footsie in the corner booth of an upscale restaurant.
Where was the other woman?
The obvious answer struck her like a slap. The woman must have been waiting for her lover in the hotel. While Gretchen had been sitting outside growing stiff with boredom, trying to come up with a ten-letter word for citrus fruit, the fling had been going full tilt.
She didn't have a team or even a partner to relieve her. She snooped the old-fashioned way. She followed, snapped pictures, kept detailed notes. Testified when required. She owned a gun, a lady's Smith & Wesson with a funky pink grip, which she'd never fired in the course of her job. She rented a small office with a shared switchboard. The low overhead helped her keep her prices extremely compet.i.tive. Besides, she liked working alone.
If she wanted to get anything good tonight, she was going to have to get a little more aggressive. She followed Stone into the hotel. With luck, he'd open his door and start kissing his lady friend while still in camera range.