Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (6 page)

Nick’s cell phone
rang and he answered.

“I’m in the lobby.
Where are you?” Pierce asked.

“I’ll be right down.”
He clicked the button ending the call and turned to Emily. “Stay in this room.
Don’t open the door for anyone except me, not even a hotel employee. We can’t
take any chances.”

“Okay.” Emily’s skin
paled. “Where are you going?”

“My partner’s here. I
need to talk to him in private to see what he knows.”

She nodded. “Be
careful.”

“You too. I’ll be
back in about ten minutes. I wish I could stay here and keep an eye on you, but
I have to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Thankful she wasn’t
in hysterics, he impulsively stroked a thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.
He admired her spunk and grit, and a hell of a lot more about her. “I’ll be
back soon.”

* * * *

“Why the text?” Nick
asked in a low tone once he and Pierce stood in a dim corner of the hotel
lobby, far away from any customers or the registration desk. “Has my cover been
compromised?”

“We don’t know yet.
Morgan’s checking into it. So, who is she?” Pierce’s blue eyes gleamed with
curiosity and concern.

“Emily,” Nick
mumbled. He generally kept nothing from Pierce—he was both his partner and his
best friend—but he didn’t want Pierce to know what kind of off-the-charts
effect Emily had on him.

“Emily? Your
sister-in-law?”

“She isn’t my
sister-in-law anymore. She and Jared were divorced.” Nick wanted to kick
himself for sounding defensive.

“Right.” Pierce eyed
him speculatively. He was even holding back a damned grin. “Have you got a
thing for her now or what?”

Annoyance welled up
in him. “Why the hell would you ask that?”

Clearing his throat, Pierce
plowed fingers through his short black hair. “Well—to put it mildly—Morgan said
you were all over her.”

“It’s part of my
cover to be all over women.”

“Maybe so, but he
said you were acting different. You weren’t paying attention to anything around
you. She was your sole focus.”

“Fuck Morgan. I knew
everything that was going on.” The annoyance was deepening to anger, but he
knew he had no one to blame but himself. He’d let her take his mind off the
job.

Pierce inhaled a deep
breath and let it out slow. “I’m not questioning your professionalism. Morgan
was concerned you were letting a woman mess with your focus. And that you were
pulling her too deep into your cover. He said she wasn’t a regular and that you
seemed to know her.”

Nick forced himself
to keep his mouth shut. If he said something, he might reveal what she did to
him. Hell, he probably had been acting strangely with Emily. He’d practically
devoured her on the dance floor.

“What was she doing
there?” Pierce asked.

“She needs my help
and protection. I already told you Jared was murdered.”

“Yeah.”

“The sonofabitch who
killed him wants something and he thinks she has it. He broke into her house in
Savannah, searched it, then called and threatened her.”

“Shit.” Pierce looked
ready to tear into someone. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. Thanks. I’m
going back to Savannah with her. I have to find this bastard and nail his ass
to the wall.”

“What about your
cases?”

“Hell, I know, but I
need at least a week off,” Nick said.

“Maybe I can help.
I’ll let the chief know your cover might have been compromised, and while
things are cooling off you should take a brief leave of absence.”

“Won’t work. He’ll
bust my balls and make me do nothing but paperwork for a month.”

“He owes me a favor.”

“In that case,
thanks. If this works I’ll owe you one.”

“You’ve saved my ass
more than once already.”

That was true, but
that’s what partners were supposed to do. “We’re heading back to Savannah
tonight then.”

* * * *

“I’ll drive,” Nick
told Emily fifteen minutes later as they approached her car.

“Good. I’m
exhausted.” Besides, she hated driving in Atlanta traffic. She unlocked the
doors with the remote and they slid in. Thank god she wasn’t alone right now.
She felt much safer with Nick.

“Pierce will pick up
my motorcycle here tomorrow and park it in his garage for a while.” Nick
started her car, maneuvered through the underground parking garage and drove
onto the street. He made several turns and watched in the rearview mirror.

“Are we being
followed?” She twisted around to peer through the back window. Despite the
warmth of the night, cold seeped into her bones.

“Not that I can
tell.”

On a one-way street,
they neared an intersection and an amber light. Nick pumped the brakes. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” she
asked, alarm chilling her.

The light changed to
red. He floored the accelerator, squealing the tires. They flew through the
intersection.

“No brakes!”

Chapter
Five

“Oh my god! What
happened to the brakes?” Emily yelled, terrified Nick might not be able to stop
her car.

“How the hell should
I know?” he snapped.

She dug her
fingernails into the edges of her seat and peered at the string of cars
blocking the intersection straight ahead. Nausea surged through her. “How are
you going to stop before we crash into them?”

Nick yanked up the
parking brake.

The car didn’t slow
down.
Oh shit!
She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

“I’ll do a
one-eighty. Hold on!” He jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left. The
tires screamed. Emily’s head thumped against the passenger window. Pain spiked
through her skull.

The lights outside
spun and blurred. The car’s engine whined, horns honked and a siren blared.

“Nick!” she yelled.

The car jolted to a
halt halfway on the sidewalk.

Pedestrians scattered
and a patrol car slid in front of them, blinding her with flashing blue lights.

“Em. You okay?” Nick
took her face between his warm hands. He frowned, his darkened eyes concerned.

Though she wanted to
savor the comforting way he touched her, pain radiated from the lump on her
head. “I’m alive. But my head got thwacked good.”

“Let me see.” He
turned her head and pressed his fingers gently over the bump. “Hell, I’m sorry.
I’ll take you to the hospital.”

* * * *

An hour later, a
paramedic had checked Emily’s head and determined she didn’t have a concussion.
Only a sore, swollen lump remained. Nick had stood nearby, talking to police
officers about what had happened in the near crash. She’d taken an ibuprofen
and now felt fine, physically. Mentally, not so much. They could’ve died.
Someone had followed her from Savannah to Atlanta, sabotaged her car, and that
same someone had probably murdered Jared.

Nick approached where
she sat in the passenger seat of a police car, opened the door and leaned in.
“You okay? How does your head feel?”

Taking in his worried
frown, she forced a faint smile, hoping to ease his mind. “It’s fine.” She
couldn’t really blame him for the bump on the head. He’d had to stop the car
any way possible or they could’ve been hurt much worse.

“We’ll lay low in a
hotel for the night while they determine what the hell’s going on.”

“What about my car?”
She hoped it wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

“They have to check
it over for prints, then Pierce will take it to a repair shop. We’ll need a
different car to get out of town. Someone’s following you and trying to kill
you. Plus, we don’t know yet if my cover’s blown.”

A renewed chill
coiled down her spine at all the dangers they might face. She was relieved Nick
was here to help her. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank
me,” he said in a quiet tone. “Come on.” He held out his hand. Though she
didn’t need to be helped from the car or escorted, she took his hand…simply
because she liked touching him. He was always so warm and strong. Comforting in
one way, disturbing in another.

Once at the hotel, Pierce
accompanied them up to the room. He and Nick communicated with a minimum of
words and one could probably tell what the other was thinking based on near
imperceptible body language and facial expressions. She was certain this came
from years of being partners in dangerous situations.

Two uniformed police
officers followed them. She felt like a star witness with so many guards. But
she knew they were mainly protecting Nick, a highly skilled, respected and
valued undercover officer.

“We use this hotel
because it already has a lot of security in place.” Nick slid the key card into
the slot and opened the door.

“Wait here with her
while I check it out,” Pierce said. Drawing a semiautomatic handgun, he stepped
into the room. Nick gripped a similar weapon—stainless-steel and deadly. A
shiver coursed down her spine.

Moments later, Pierce
returned. “All clear.”

Nick motioned her
into the swanky hotel room carpeted in thick brown Berber. In the middle of the
room she halted, staring at the one king-sized, four-poster bed. And this
wasn’t a suite, though it did contain a nice sofa, chair, cherry dresser, chest
and tables. But one bed…

What was going on?
Had someone planned this? Although she was annoyed at whoever assumed she
wanted to sleep with Nick, a fuse of excitement also lit within her. Her three-year
fantasy could become a reality.

No, that would be
stupid.

The two men murmured
in the background and she only understood a phrase here and there. “Dixon will
be in the hallway all night,” Pierce said.

She assumed that was
one of the uniformed cops guarding them.

When Pierce left,
Nick closed the door and came fully into the room.

“There’s only one
bed,” she said.

He stopped short,
glaring at it. “Hell.”

She lifted a brow,
unsure if she bought into his irritation. “Is Pierce encouraging us?”

“No, Pierce didn’t
book the room. All I know is this was the only room available for check-in this
late. I assumed there’d be two queen-sized beds.” He glanced around. “I’ll use
the sofa. I need to stay alert anyway.”

That could work.
Still, she felt bad he couldn’t sleep in a comfortable bed when he’d done so
much to help her.

“We’ll take turns,”
she said.

“What?” His gaze
swept to her and intensified.

“I’ll sleep a while
in the bed, and then I’ll guard while you sleep.”

He chuckled. “No.
That’s not how it works, sweetness.”

She wished he
wouldn’t call condescending names. She supposed it was just his smart-ass way
of dealing in a harsh world. But lots of things he did or said made her feel
completely naïve. Which she wasn’t.

“You need some
sleep,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.”
Dropping the black duffle bag that Pierce had brought him, Nick laid his gun on
the side table and reclined on the sofa.

If he insisted. A man
would never listen, anyway. Taking her overnight bag, she escaped into the
bathroom and locked the door.

What the hell had her
ex gotten her into?

* * * *

Nick sat in the
darkened hotel room, staring at the red numbers on the clock. 2:36 AM. Emily
had been in bed more than an hour. He assumed she was asleep since she hadn’t
moved and her breathing was deep.

Five minutes ago,
he’d checked the hallway and found both uniformed police officers on guard.
He’d worked with them before and knew they were trustworthy.

Nick had gotten very
little sleep the night before either. Hell, when did he ever get enough sleep?
He needed some shut-eye bad. He’d have to drive her to Savannah tomorrow, then
be two-hundred percent on alert, protecting her from that psycho murderer.

Preparing to sleep,
he shoved off his jeans, leaving on his black boxer-briefs, and lay lengthwise
of the sofa. It wasn’t long enough and didn’t pull out into a bed. The arm of
the sofa jabbed into his calves. And no telling whose ass had sat right where
his head lay.

Sitting up, he eyed
the king-sized mattress, beyond tempted to crawl onto it with her. It was huge.
Would she mind sharing?

Wearing a short,
silky blue gown, she’d slid between those clean white sheets earlier. For the
last hour, he’d fantasized about running his hands up beneath the gown and now
he had a hard-on that was driving him crazy. He could think of nothing but
touching her, stripping the clothes from her body, tasting every inch of her
skin.