Dark Moon (2 page)

When she emerged from the prop department wearing a hot pink sweater so tight that she knew her nipples showed through the knit fabric, Cole was waiting for her. He’d exchanged the tee shirt for a baby blue polo that looked all wrong on him. But she liked the brand-new sparkling white Adidas.

Because she didn’t want him to give her the once-over, she breezed past and headed straight for the Lexus pulled up at the back entrance.

He’d follow. And he’d better not make any comments.

CHAPTER TWO

Cole clenched his teeth, his gaze fixed on Emma’s nicely rounded ass as he strode after her to the Lexus. She was the last person he wanted to partner with on this assignment. On any assignment, to be truthful. He had good reasons to avoid intimate contact with her.

Werewolf reasons.

He was too close to the age of bonding to be comfortable with her. Soon he’d be forced to pick a lifemate. Not because he wanted to, but because that was what his genetic heritage dictated—ever since his long-ago ancestor had dared to ask the ancient Druid gods for special powers.

He’d gotten them—for himself and the generations to follow. Dooming them to a savage life that ran parallel to ordinary men.

But they’d learned to adapt, roll with the punches, and take advantage of the modern world. In fact, Cole’s current lifestyle suited him just fine. The last thing he wanted was a wife and a family, which was why he was fighting his attraction to Emma Richards, tooth and claw.

He bit back a laugh. He’d never given her any clue to his real nature, but maybe when they were alone in Karen Hopewell’s apartment he could change to wolf form. That should send her running in the other direction.

Or would it?

Ever since he’d been at Decorah Security, he’d known Emma Richards was an extraordinary woman. She was trained in the martial arts. She was an expert on the gun range. And she’d taken a job as an entry-level operative with Frank Decorah, when she could have been a vice president in her dad’s firm. He didn’t know what she did for fun when she was off duty, but he couldn’t help wondering if seeing him transform would turn her on.

Yeah sure.

He climbed behind the wheel of the luxury car, looking straight ahead. Yet he couldn’t ignore her sexy pink sweater as she slid in next to him and buckled her seat belt. Had she chosen it on purpose to make him crazy? Or was she only following Decorah’s directions?

The confined interior of the car was instantly filled with her tantalizing scent. Soap and woman. No perfume, thank God, because that would have overloaded his werewolf senses.

Not that he wasn’t already on the edge of doing something he’d be sorry about.

He tightened his hands on the wheel and peeled out of the parking lot, headed for the Camden condo where Karen Hopewell lived.

Emma moved in her seat, drawing the sweater tighter across her breasts.

For a while neither he nor Emma spoke until he broke the silence. “So you knew her?”

“Not well. We didn’t have the same interests.” She swallowed hard. But I wouldn’t like to be her right now. She’s probably scared out of her mind.”

“If she isn’t drugged senseless.”

Emma winced. “There’s that.” She cleared her throat. “You think sexual abuse is part of the scenario?”

“No way to know.”

“No matter how this comes out, she’s never going to be the same again,”

Cole heard the conviction in her voice. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

“No. Thank God. I’ve studied cases where women have been seriously abused. I’m just putting myself in her place.”

“Hopefully, they won’t have her for long.”

“If we can find out who’s got her—and where.”

They reached Karen’s apartment in twenty-five minutes. It was on the second floor of a low-rise condominium complex in a Baltimore waterfront neighborhood that had undergone considerable urban renewal.

After finding a parking space around the corner, they walked back. The building’s entrance was along an interior walkway, which gave them cover from the street.

Emma stood guard while Cole got out his picks and worked on the lock. They were inside so quickly that he thought Karen could have easily been taken hostage in her own home.

After making sure no one was inside, he checked escape routes. There was a sliding glass door and a balcony in the bedroom where they could exit if anyone else came nosing around

“You take the bedroom. I’ll take the front of the apartment,” he said to Emma, relieved that it made sense to split up.

She strode toward the back, obviously just as glad to get out of his way. Alone, he surveyed the living room. It was sleek and modern, all leather and chrome, like Karen had gone to a designer store and bought everything new. None of it looked particularly comfortable.

After glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he opened the small closet in the front hall, riffling through the coats, pulling one against his face and breathing deeply, taking in the scent of Karen Hopewell. It was young and feminine and sexy, but had nowhere near the effect on him as the fragrance of Emma Richards. However, if he picked up Karen’s trail, he’d be able to follow it. That was one of his werewolf advantages—his sense of smell. It was strongest in wolf form, but even now it was far more acute than that of any human.

He had started on the kitchen, checking to see if anything was hidden in a canister of sugar, when Emma called out from the bedroom.

“Found her stash.”

He put down the sugar and wiped his hands, then strode into the bedroom. A drawer was open, and Emma held up a bag of marijuana leaves.

“Want to smell it?”

He shook his head and took a quick step back. Picking up the scent of people was useful. Chemicals were another matter. Drugs played hell with a werewolf’s nervous system. Even coffee and caffeinated tea were too much, which could be inconvenient in social circumstances.

“You okay.”

“Of course!” he snapped, turning toward the bedside table, where he found some packets of condoms. At least she wasn’t going to let her partners use the excuse that they weren’t prepared. “I don’t suppose you have any idea where she was snatched from?”

“I haven’t spoken to her in years. And I feel weird poking through her stuff.”

“Yeah.”

On the dresser, he spotted a crystal bowl where Karen had thrown various odds and ends. Hard candies, a double A battery, a tube of hotel body lotion, coins, ballpoint pens. As he poked through the jumble, he found a coaster from a Baltimore club—Temptation.

“Maybe we have a clue,” he said.

Emma had just put the plastic bag back under a pile of tee shirts in the drawer when the knob on the front door turned, and they both froze.

Under ordinary circumstances, Cole might have confronted the intruder, but their orders were to stay out of sight. If the kidnappers knew that Karen’s father had disobeyed their instructions, they might kill the daughter.

When Emma gave him a panicked look, he took her hand and headed for the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Once they were outside, he closed the panel behind them and looked around. They could make it to the ground without too much trouble, but if they climbed down now, they might be seen. Crossing to the door at the side of the balcony, he turned the knob, and it opened.

Inside were the apartment’s furnace and air conditioning system.

“In there,” he whispered, entering and pulling Emma inside, before reaching behind her to shut the door.

They were plunged into instant darkness in a confined space, pressed front to front. As they both stood rigid, Cole strained his ears. His hearing was excellent, and he picked up the sound of footsteps in the apartment. A guy, or at least someone who walked heavily. Probably not a two-hundred-pound woman.

In the darkness, he could feel tension coursing through Emma. The same tension that had his guts twisting, making him feel like he was caught between heat and cold.

Heat because he wanted her with a surge of need that made his whole body tighten, and cold because they weren’t playing some kid’s game of hide and seek in here. If whoever was in the apartment tried the sliding glass door, they might come out here. And if they came outside, the next step was the utility closet.

In the car, he’d thought of Emma’s reaction if he changed to wolf form. There wasn’t room to do it in here, yet the idea had a strong appeal—at least from the tactical point of view. Whoever was in the apartment probably had a gun, but he wouldn’t be expecting a wolf to leap out of hiding.

As the heavy footsteps reached the balcony, Cole slipped his arm around Emma, wanting to slide his hand up and down her back to reassure her. But that wouldn’t do either one of them any real good. Instead, he pulled her closer and turned her around so she wouldn’t have her back to danger. Next he reached behind her with both hands to grab the inside doorknob. He braced his feet and kept his grip firm as he heard the guy coming steadily closer.

The man walked up to the door and tried to twist the knob. Cole struggled to prevent it from turning, at the same time exerting a firm pull to keep the barrier in place.

Whoever was on the other side yanked hard. Feet planted firmly on the cement, Cole kept the door from moving. When the guy finally gave up and the footsteps receded, Emma sagged against Cole, but it wasn’t over quite yet. The intruder could be waiting for someone to emerge from the utility closet.

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes of silence.

“Do you think he’s gone?” Emma whispered with her mouth close to Cole’s ear.

“Let’s hope.” Cautiously Cole eased the door open and looked around, seeing no one.

When he started to step out, Emma gripped his shoulder. “Don’t. It may not be safe.”

“Are you worried about me?” he asked, hearing the roughness in his own voice.

“Yes,”

Suddenly it felt like she was saying yes to a whole lot more than just his flippant question. Or maybe holding her in his arms had breached the barrier he’d struggled so hard to maintain with her.

Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, he lowered his mouth to hers. They’d known each other for a year, but it seemed like he’d been waiting an eternity for that kiss.

Had she been waiting, too? It seemed like it because the moment his lips touched hers, everything turned frantic.

In the darkness, he pulled her more tightly against himself, his hands moving up and down her back, sliding lower to cup her rounded bottom as his mouth devoured hers.

She opened for him, and he drank in the sweet taste of her. Marveled at the softness of her lips. Reveled in the twin pressure of her breasts against his chest. Shuddered at the sensation of his aching cock pressed to her middle.

She moved against him, increasing the ache.

Her hands were no less restless than his, stroking over his shoulders, his arms, reaching up to tangle in his thick hair, the intimacy of that touch increasing his arousal.

Desperate for more intimate contact, he slid his hands inward, cupping her breasts, letting their weight rest in his palms. They weren’t too big. Or too small. Just right for his hands.

As he stroked his thumbs across the tightened crests, she made a moaning sound.

The first real intimacy between them, and he wanted to see her, see the passion he was certain would be shimmering in her eyes. He wanted to tear off that provocative pink sweater and her bra because they were in his way. But there was very little room in this confined space to maneuver.

 Moving backwards, he pressed against the door again. But this time he wasn’t holding on to the knob, and the barrier swung open, making him lose his balance.

He might have toppled onto his butt on the cement balcony, but Emma grabbed his arm, steadying him, her beautifully dilated eyes meeting his for a frantic moment before she looked away.

They were both breathing hard, and he realized that he’d been on the verge of going too far. Much too far. Which was inexcusable under the circumstances.

She let go of him abruptly, gripping the edge of the doorframe, her dilated eyes searching his face.

“What are we doing?” she asked in a strained voice.

He might have answered with a sharp comment. But that would give away too much.

Instead he straightened and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t all your fault.”

Nice of her to say so. He didn’t voice that comment either.

When he backed up, she followed him onto the balcony.

“There’s a lot riding on this assignment. We were both on edge and worried about getting caught here” she said, making excuses for the inexcusable.

He returned his focus to the immediate situation. What if someone was still out there in the apartment?

At least they sure didn’t look like a couple of private detectives.

Emma ran a shaky hand through her hair. “Who was trying to get into the utility closet, do you think?”

“Could be one of the kidnappers, making sure nobody’s been in her apartment. Or one of her friends—looking for her.”