Hotbed Honey (20 page)

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Authors: Toni Blake

BOOK: Hotbed Honey
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"Well, Max is right downstairs," she told him. "I thought we'd wait until later, that maybe I'd send him out to run some errands or something. Then you and I could have some … privacy." At this point she despised letting this sleazeball think she could want anything to do with him sexually, but under the circumstances, it was the only way she could think to handle the situation.
"Now, don't you worry about Max. It's just you and me here."
Carlo had made similar statements before, but for some reason, a bolt of panic rushed through her this time. He hadn't done anything to Max, had he? "Um, where is Max?" If he'd hurt Max, she would kill him! Brutally and without a shred of mercy.
"He's making lunch for us," Carlo said. "See?" He walked out onto the balcony, urging Kimberly to follow. Her heart flooded with relief to find Max, now in a pair of khaki shorts and a pullover shirt, standing at the grill flipping hamburgers.
"Well, don't you think he'll notice us missing?" she asked. "I mean, remember what happened the last time Max found you in here—he'll go ballistic."
"I told him I was going to use his office to make some phone calls," Carlo said, stepping back inside. Then he chuckled and took her hand. "So come on, baby, let's quit wasting time."
With one quick movement, he pulled Kimberly to him, making her drop the jewelry box. Fake diamonds scattered across the carpet. She braced her hands on his chest and took a step back, then swallowed hard.
What now?
she thought desperately. Break free of him and go running like a banshee from the room, screaming for Max? No, that would botch the whole assignment and it would prove to Max that she really
couldn't
handle her job. She had to find a way to bail herself out of this mess and keep the charade intact.
"Carlo, are you sure you wouldn't rather wait until later when we could … relax? Have more time? Go more … slowly?"
He pulled her back against him, tight. "Later sounds great, but nothing says we can't have a little warm-up right now."
Kimberly pushed against Carlo's chest again, but it was like being trapped in a vise.
"What's wrong? Don't play hard to get with me now. You've been hot for me since we laid eyes on each other."
Kimberly's stomach dropped. She hated the way he held her and she suddenly didn't feel nearly as much like a P.I. as she did a very vulnerable woman who'd gotten herself into a bad situation. Now she wasn't even sure that breaking away from him was an option—his grip on her was too strong.
* * *
"Carlo, how do you like your burgers? Well-done? Medium?"
No answer.
Max looked over his shoulder to where Carlo had been sunning by the pool just a moment ago. Damn it, he was gone.
And Kimberly was upstairs alone.
He dropped the metal spatula in his band and ran across the patio and into the house, flinging the French doors wide. How had the little rat sneaked away so quietly? He raced through the family room and the foyer and took the stairs two at a time. Why hadn't he been paying closer attention, for God's sake?
He burst into the master suite out of breath, and just in time. He was ready to tear Carlo apart when he took in the scene before him. Carlo held Kimberly in what was clearly a forced embrace—her hands pressed flat against his chest as she leaned away from him as far as his grip would allow.
"Let go of her, Carlo!"
Kimberly gasped, then swung her gaze to where he stood in the doorway. "Max…" The utterance sounded unplanned and desperate, her eyes brimming with fear and something deeper. It was as if he could feel her reaching out to him, needing him.
He shifted his eyes to her for only the briefest of seconds before turning them back on Carlo, as enraged as a hungry tiger who'd just broken free of his cage. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles strained, his heart filling with such deep fury that he feared he might explode with it.
Crossing the room, Max grabbed Carlo by his shirt and spun him around, leaving Kimberly to flee to the nearest corner. She looked terrified of what lay ahead and maybe with good reason, too, he thought. Carlo hadn't actually done anything illegal yet, and if Max didn't find some way to rein in the anger taking hold of him,
he
might be the one going to prison.
"Max," Kimberly pleaded softly.
"Come on now, man," Carlo was saying, his hands held out before him. "Calm down."
But all Max could see was the fear and loathing in Kimberly's eyes when he'd walked in the room. He'd known he shouldn't let her go through with this and he'd been right. Now he finally understood why. She couldn't handle Carlo, and
he
couldn't handle watching her with Carlo. Both of them were too weak for the job, and even though their weaknesses lay in different areas, they had the same result.
Heedless of anything but his own wrath, Max pulled back his fist and landed it squarely on Carlo's left jaw. He wanted to kill the guy, wanted to make him suffer, not only for scaring Kimberly, but for each and every leer and touch he'd given her since the moment he'd walked in the door Friday night.
Regaining his balance after the blow, Carlo drew back and threw an uppercut at Max, but he dodged it and caught Carlo's wrist in his grip. Max's other fist slammed into Carlo's face, knocking him backward into the wall.
Max didn't care about the case anymore—this wasn't worth it. It wasn't right that Kimberly, or any woman, should have to endure such mauling, even if it was for a good cause. Suddenly the cause wasn't good enough.
No
reason was good enough.
He closed in on Carlo, who stood cowering before him now, a surprised sort of panic invading his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't pegged Max as a guy who could fight, but since he chose not to carry a gun, Max considered a dexterity with his fists among his most essential skills.
The sight of Carlo looking so easily beaten did something to pacify him, though, and made him realize just how spineless a man he was dealing with. Carlo was more than anxious to prey on innocent women, but when it came to facing a man, someone of equal size and strength, he wasn't up to the challenge.
Their eyes met and held for a long, indecisive moment as Max waited to see the slimeball's next move. Max readied himself, just in case Carlo decided to come back at him. "What now, Carlo?" he asked, fists still clenched, eyes narrowed in threat. It was almost a dare.
Carlo's gaze darted past Max—to Kimberly, to the jewelry spread across the carpet, to the door—his eyes dancing with indecision.
It appeared that the door won out. "I guess now I leave," Carlo said, inching toward it. A certain smoothness had returned to his voice upon realizing Max wasn't going to beat him to a pulp.
Max moved slowly after him, almost sorry Carlo didn't want to have another go at him. "Which is harder to leave behind, Carlo?" he said, his voice still dripping with anger. "My wife or her jewelry?" He knew he came dangerously close to tipping their hand with that, but the words had tumbled out. Pride demanded he not let Carlo leave without letting him know they were onto him.
Carlo backed into the doorway. "Your wife," he replied snidely, clearly not realizing the question was rhetorical. He then turned a surprisingly smug gaze to Kimberly. "You don't know what you're missing, baby."
Max lunged for him, but if he'd intended to do Carlo real damage, he'd waited too long—the jerk had already slipped out the door and disappeared up the hall.
Instinct nearly made Max give chase, but several things kept him from it. Catching him would only mean pounding him into the ground—still a pleasing notion, but not particularly useful. As unimportant as the case had seemed a minute ago, it still mattered, and Max realized he'd just made a fatal error. Somehow in the tussle with Carlo, he'd managed to get their positions turned around so that he'd stood between Carlo and the jewelry. Carlo had just darted from the room without it, so besides having nothing on film, they didn't even have any stolen jewelry to report.
But the biggest reason he didn't go after Carlo in that moment was that it seemed much more important to make sure Kimberly was okay. Max turned toward her, finding her lips tightly pursed and her eyes filled with distress. He moved quickly to her side. "Are you all right?" He didn't wait for an answer before crushing her against him in a huge hug.
"Yeah," she murmured into his chest as she clung to him.
He released a long sigh at how good and safe it felt just to have her in his arms where no one could hurt her, where no one could touch her but him.
* * *
Max and Kimberly ran out the front door a minute later, just in time to see Carlo's Camaro flying up the wooded driveway that led from the house. They hopped into Max's Porsche and sped after him. Giving chase hadn't seemed important a moment ago, but as Max had stood there holding Kimberly, they'd both realized it would be their only chance to find out any more about Carlo.
After all, he had a boss somewhere who was expecting some jewelry. With any luck, that's where he would head right now. They'd blown the whole operation and this was their only chance to salvage it. "Hold on, babe. This is gonna be a wild ride," he said, swinging the car out onto the road.
Damn it! he thought, banging his hand on the steering wheel as he drove. He still couldn't believe this had happened, not any of it. How could he let Carlo slink away and get his hands on Kimberly like that? He also couldn't believe that after all the trouble they'd gone to, things hadn't come off as planned. The little creep had still managed to get away without doing anything illegal.
Max had thought the guy would lie back and let a flirtatious, assertive woman do the work and make the plan, but he'd misjudged Carlo's ego. He was a better P.I. than that—he should have had a backup plan in place and kept a closer eye on the skunk. Damn all the distractions that kept making him mess up! Distractions caused over and over again by Kimberly.
The long chase led them across town and into the Garment District, an area rife with old warehouses and deserted buildings. Many of the structures harbored broken windows—some that had been boarded up, others that hadn't. The streets were pockmarked with holes and broken pavement. Now
this
, he thought, finally makes sense. The Garment District had Carlo's name written all over it.
He showed his speed and hung back a bit as Carlo had suddenly slowed a little, too, since entering the rundown area. Apparently he had no idea he was being followed, the schmuck. It irritated Max to think that Carlo thought he and Kimberly were so helpless and stupid that they were back at the house crying over what had happened and not taking any action. And it made him more determined than ever to beat the guy at his own game.
"Look!" Kimberly said, pointing. Up ahead, Carlo had braked before one of the warehouses and turned into the driveway in front.
Max immediately pulled the Porsche to the side of the street, where they both watched in silence, although it was too far away to see much. Max reached under his seat to snatch a small pair of binoculars.
"What do you see?"
"He's punching something into a keypad, a code or password to get him inside," he guessed.
Then they both saw a large metal door rising, and Carlo drove through. The door promptly descended behind him.
"Damn," Max said, lowering the binoculars.
"Damn what?" Kimberly asked. "We know where he goes now. This is probably where the kingpins of the business operate."
Sure, that much was good news, but Max shook his head anyway. "We don't have anything on them. Still no hard, tangible proof. I've got to get something concrete, Kimberly. If we have any chance of nailing Carlo and whoever his bosses are, I've got to get inside that warehouse and take a look around, try to see what's going on."
Kimberly just gaped at him. "Are you crazy, Max? We have no idea what's behind those walls."
"Well, there's only one way to find out."
Max turned off the engine and opened his door, but Kimberly still continued to look at him as if he'd lost his mind. "This isn't safe, Max. I don't even know what you're planning, but I can tell you it's not safe."
"You wait here," he said, "and if I'm not back in half an hour, take the car and go get Frank." He pressed the keys into her hand.

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