Barely Undercover (3 page)

Time to fire her temper.

He dropped his voice low, commanding, and raised it loud enough for her to hear. “Babe. Stop right there.”

She pulled up short, as if she had hit an invisible wall, and spun around to face him. A shiver ran through her and her pupils dilated. For a second, even her breathing stopped.

“What did you say?” Fury flared in her brilliant green eyes.
 

A thrill of anticipation shot through him like a bullet, hardening his cock in an instant. “Come here. Now.” He did not dare tear his gaze away from her, but he could sense his biker brothers watching with avid interest.

Unable to resist the challenge, her jaw tightened and she stomped toward him, stopping so close he could feel her breath, hot and sweet on his lips.

Her nostrils flared. “You did
not
just speak to me that way.”

“I did. You came. Good girl.” He pressed his lips together and repressed a smile. Lana had only two reactions to that particular tone of voice. Part of her attraction was never knowing which he would get.

“Fuck you.” She slapped him. The crack of her hand on his cheek echoed through the bar. Heads turned. Rex frowned. Ryder chuckled. Kickstand sucked in a breath.

James reacted quickly, grabbing her wrists and pinning her hands behind her. He backed her up to a nearby pillar and caged her with his body. Her gaze dropped, copper eyelashes brushing over creamy cheeks. A sound escaped her lips, a cross between a growl and a whimper, and a tremor shook her body.

Arousal surged through him like a tidal wave, fierce and uncontrollable
. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He should never have put them in this position. It took all his effort not to tear off her clothes and take her right there.

God, he’d missed her. A woman who would bend but not break. Yield but not submit. With Lana, his control was limited, and in this emotionally charged situation, it was a cable, taut and ready to snap.

He raised his voice loud enough for Rex to hear. “I’ll allow that only once.” Then he leaned over and whispered, “And only because I set you up.”

“Let me go, Heartless Bastard.”

James pressed his mouth to her ear and steeled himself against the instinct to wipe the lascivious smirk off Rex’s face. “I’ll spell it out for you because you don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. Rex wants you. He wants you so bad he’s willing to take
risks with the law. The only thing standing in his way is me. He cannot touch a brother’s old lady. If you run from me, he will hunt you down and he will take you whether you want it or not.”

Her mouth opened and closed, and a shudder racked her body. Sensing her distress, he released her hands and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to stop her from doing something that would force his hand. Like slap him again. Unpredictable on a good day, Lana was almost uncontrollable when riled.

Big mistake. His body responded to the soft curves pressed against him. No doubt she could feel his arousal pressed tight against her soft belly, but she didn’t pull away. Save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest, Lana was incomprehensibly, and uncharacteristically, still.

Taking advantage of her moment of confusion, he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her familiar floral fragrance—wild flowers in the sun-drenched earth.

“You always overreact,” she grumbled into his chest. “He doesn’t know me. I ran into him by accident. We barely spoke. I find it hard to believe he would risk jail time just to get me in his bed.”

James stroked a finger over her cheek. “I don’t find it hard to believe at all.”

“Are you undercover?” she whispered. “I mean…meeting me…helping me…isn’t that a risk…wouldn’t it be better to let me go and—”

“Everything okay here?” The deep voice startled them both. James whirled around, tucking Lana against his chest. The cavalry had arrived.

Master Tony, the owner of Carpe Noctem, frowned and raised an eyebrow. Taller and broader than Rex, but no less muscular, the dark-haired lawyer wore a leather vest and tight, black leather trousers. He studied the group and then dipped his chin—an almost-imperceptible nod of understanding. Trust Tony to pick up on the vibe without needing a word of explanation.

“I’ve got it under control.” James flicked his gaze to Rex and then to Lana, giving Tony all the information he needed.

Tony shook his head in mock disapproval. “I see you’ve caught the same little ginger mouse twice. She clearly didn’t learn her lesson last time.”

Lana instinctively curled into James’s body. He tightened his arms around her, warmed by a trust he knew he didn’t deserve.

“I’m dealing with her.” He feigned a scowl.

“Not very well if she felt the need to slap you. As you know, I have a zero tolerance policy for nonconsensual violence in my club—in any form.” Tony gave Lana a tight smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, little mouse.”

James pushed her away and frowned. “You messed up, babe. Again. Get your ass home and I’ll deal with you later.”

Lana’s eyes blazed, but she was hip to the game. “Fine,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Kickstand will walk you to your car.” James nodded at the club’s newest prospect, so named because on his first night he had forgotten to put down his kickstand and knocked over a row of motorcycles.

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

Hell. Did she think he was making a power play? Even when they’d been together, he would never have let her wander around the wrong side of Gastown at night.

“Babe, Kickstand will walk you to your car. I saw a gang on the prowl on Hastings Street when I drove in. It isn’t safe.”

Her eyes warmed with understanding and a tentative smile built on her lips. Sweet. Sexy. Soft. Lana behind the fire. He’d missed that side of her most of all.

And then it was gone.

She released an old lady sigh, and her eyes flicked to Kickstand. “Well? Let’s go, golden boy.”

Kickstand jerked away from Rex and licked his lips as he panted behind Lana’s lush ass.

James waited until she was five feet away and then called out softly, “Babe.”

“What now?”
She whirled around, her face breathtakingly beautiful in her fury.

“See you soon.” He knew he was pushing her, but damned if he could stop himself.

She pressed her lips together, her body trembling as if she was about to explode. “In your dreams,” she spat out. Spinning on her heel, she disappeared into the crowd with Kickstand scampering after her.

“She must be a goddamned wildcat in bed,” Rex muttered. “She needs to be fucking tamed. What a rush that would be.”

Ryder shook his head and exhaled a low whistle. “Man, Ice. Why did you keep her hidden away?”

James shrugged. “My business.”

“Now she’s Hades’s business.” Rex’s gaze fixed on the closing door. “Bring her to the barbeque on Saturday. You got an old lady; she’s part of the club. Everyone should meet the fireball who melted Ice.”

His phone rang and he sent Ryder to find a table while he took the call. James headed to the bar to round up some drinks. Tony followed hot on his heels.

“No more biker meetings in my club,” Tony said when they reached the granite-topped counter. “Especially if you’re planning on getting slapped again. Slapping, spanking and other forms of discipline are limited to the private room in the back. Surely there are other places you could have had your meeting—places with less chance of you being recognized? Don’t they have a clubhouse?”

“I’ll bet you know more about them than I do,” James said dryly. “You seem to know everything about everybody.”

Tony snorted. “I know I don’t want them back in my club. Rex already asked for a membership form, and I have a feeling he won’t take kindly to being turned down.”

“It won’t happen again.” James placed his order with the bartender and pointed him toward Ryder at a table in the corner. “Thanks for the help back there.”

Tony reached over the counter and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “You going after her?”

“She hates me. I walked out on her two years ago to take the assignment. No warning. No explanation. I told myself I was protecting her. And me.”

In short, he’d been an ass. But he’d known he couldn’t sustain a relationship, and especially not one as intense as what they had together. He couldn’t go through the pain of losing someone he cared about again. Better to end it sooner rather than later.

Tony chortled. “If I were her, I’d hate you too. Doesn’t mean you can’t go after her. Maybe apologize.”

“The past is past.” James took the glass of whiskey Tony offered. “I helped her out of a sticky situation tonight. Evened the score.”

Time to move on. The reasons behind his decision to leave her hadn’t changed. Now, more than ever, he knew his instincts had been right. Seeing her again, his blood fired up after their verbal altercation, his cheek burning from the imprint of her hand, his cock throbbing from the soft press of her body against him, he felt dangerously alive. But he knew too well her fire burned with an intensity he couldn’t handle.

Tony poured himself a shot of whiskey. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, but at the root of both is passion. If she’d been indifferent to you, then I would agree, there’s no point. But I didn’t see indifference. I saw passion. A hell of a lot of passion.”

“You’re beginning to sound more like a psychologist than a lawyer.” James shot back the bitter liquid, savoring the smooth burn before it scorched its way down his throat.

“I wasn’t always a lawyer.”

Eyebrows raised, James spun his glass on the table. “I heard rumors that you’d had a colorful past. Not that being a psychologist qualifies as colorful…”

“I suppose it depends on what you do with the psychology degree,” Tony murmured, cutting him off.

For a moment James considered pursuing the line of conversation, but the arrival of Trixie, the club receptionist, drew Tony’s attention and James filed the information away for later. Although Tony was a good friend, he’d always been guarded about his past and if he had something he wanted to share, James would let him do it on his own time.

“So, are you giving me relationship advice as a psychologist or as a lawyer?”

“As a friend.” Tony’s gaze remained fixed on Trixie’s curvy bounce as she walked a nervous young woman up to the bar.

Trixie glanced up and caught Tony and James watching her. Her cheeks flushed and she flashed them a warm smile. Generous, creamy breasts strained against the top of the tight, red corset dress encasing her voluptuous body. Her shiny red stilettos tapped in time to the bass pounding through the speakers. Although the multiple facial piercings and spiked platinum hair weren’t James’s taste, her warmth and bubbly personality had made her one of the most popular staff members in the club.

Tony turned away and Trixie’s smile faded. There was an obvious attraction between her and Tony, but as far as James knew, Tony had never acted on it. For all the relationship advice he gave to his clients and friends, he couldn’t see what was staring him in the face.

“Maybe you’re right.” Tony drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “Women add unnecessary complications to life. Might be better not to reopen old wounds. Especially when you’re undercover.”

James nodded his agreement, pleased Tony had been on the list of people cleared to be informed of his undercover status. His request list had been small: His dad, Lana, Mark and Tony. He’d added Lana to the list on a whim despite thinking he would never see her again.

“I’m just waiting for this damn assignment to end, and I don’t want to do anything to mess it up. It’s been hard on my mind. I don’t like the man I’ve had to become or the things I’ve had to do in the name of justice.”

“What will you do when it’s over?” Tony spun his glass on the table.

“I need a break. Try something different. Maybe I’ll sail around the world.”

“Alone?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

James shrugged. “Yeah. Alone.”

Chapter Three

Lana huddled in the front seat of her rusty Jetta and trained her binoculars on the front entrance to Hades’s clubhouse. Even without Angel’s directions, the vacant airplane hangar just outside the King George Airpark would not have been difficult to find. She had spotted the huge painted Cerberus a mile away and if that wasn’t a dead giveaway, motorcycles of all shapes and sizes filled the paved parking lot.

Sweat trickled down her back and beaded on her brow. The thick plaid shirt, baggy jeans and rumpled blonde wig Jackie had assured her would enable her to blend in with the other airplane watchers were too hot for a summer day. But she trusted Jackie. Her best friend, business partner and fellow private investigator specialized in disguises, boasting a collection that would make even CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) jealous.

Lana slid a hand under her wig and flapped it up and down, trying to cool herself off with a pathetic waft of warm summer air. She suspected it was the same wig she’d accidentally grabbed off Jackie’s head in the self-defense course where they’d met.

The memory made her laugh. Acting on instinct, Jackie had punched her in the jaw and then, overcome with remorse, she’d collapsed on the floor, inconsolable. Her theatrics had made Lana smile for the first time since James had left. When she’d discovered Jackie was living on the streets she’d offered her a place to stay, as much for her spirited company as for helping out someone in need. With Lana’s help and encouragement, Jackie had turned her life around. And in return she’d pulled Lana out of her James-induced depression and introduced her to the world of disguises.