Revenge for Hire (The Get Even Agency) (14 page)

But someday he’d earn her trust and she’d tell him.

“Stay the night with me.”

Her eyes widened. “But you said—”

“Not to have sex, Angel. Just stay with me and let me hold you
while I sleep. I’m so damn tired,” he rubbed his tense neck, “it’s probably
just as well we can’t tonight because I could never do justice to all the
things I’ve already done to you in my mind.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “You want to sleep with me? As in
literally?”

“Yes.” Jude patted the bed. “Let me hold you.”

“Hold me?” she sounded incredulous.

“Hold you.”

“Nothing more?”

“Nothing more.”

“If I stay,” she looked like she was considering it, “I don’t
make any promises not to attempt to change your mind. As a matter of fact, you
can count on the fact that I mostly likely will change your mind.”

“I’m a big boy.” He grinned at how her gaze dropped to his
groin. He liked that she’d made that connection. What man didn’t want to be
thought of as a “big boy”? “You won’t change my mind.”

Her expression flickered and when she met his gaze again, her eyes
glinted with challenge.

Had he made a mistake?

He wasn’t going to be able to play fair. Not and resist her if
she went into temptress mode. He scratched his arm even though it didn’t itch. However,
he was ready to fall over from fatigue and drowsiness.

Another one of those allergy tablets and he’d be out for the
count no matter what heavenly temptations his angel provided.

“I’m itching again.” He scratched his neck, trying not to be
too obvious. “Do you know where the allergy tabs are that the emergency room doctor
gave me?”

A strange look came over her face. A look he didn’t trust. One
that perked up a bit too much at the mention of his medicine. Which didn’t make
any sense.

If she were on to him and really intent on seducing him—Lord
help him—she wouldn’t want him knocked out.

The medicine he’d already taken was clouding his mind, because
no way did she smile a naughty grin right before she said, “I’ll get them and a
glass of water for you.”

She smiled
beautifically
.

“And then,” another smile, “I’ll sleep with you, Jude. But just
so there’s no confusion, I’m not the kind of woman who plays by the normal
rules. I always play to win, and I never lose.”

Her lids lowered, her lips curved upward with naughty pleasure,
and in his hazy state, Jude would swear she looked almost threatening.

What was in those pills they’d given him?

“If any of that bothers you, I should go now, because, be
forewarned,” She raised a brow, daring him with her eyes to accept her
challenge. “Even if I have to bend the rules, I always get my man.”
 

* * *

Jude woke in slow stages.

First, he was having an erotic dream. One starring his
temporary assistant and him on his desk going at it like rabbits.

He was the damn energizer bunny. Going on and on and on.

Then the dream morphed into something just as physical but
slower, more intense, a love-making where he stared into her green eyes and
lost himself to everything she was, telling her words he’d never spoken to a
woman, words of need and emotion and maybe even love.

Next he was cold and alone and couldn’t find her no matter
where he looked. Cold, and yet his insides burned with intense physical need,
like he hadn’t had her at all.

Still feeling groggy and hung-over, he opened his eyes.

He swallowed and wondered at the cottony taste in his mouth,
the hazy feel to his head, and why every muscle in his body ached.

Then it all came back to him. The party, the itch, the
emergency room, being touched by an angel, tempted by an angel, passing out on
an angel, dreaming steamy dreams of an angel, waking to tangled sheets and
nothing more than the morn of a new day.

It didn’t feel like it should be morning, but the light shining
in through his apartment window proclaimed it was.

Fuzzy-headed, he glanced toward his clock.

Seven. Hell. He was going to be late for work.

He sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. That’s when he
realized he was naked.

Naked.

Why was he
naked
?

Not that he usually slept clothed, but he distinctly recalled
having underwear on when he’d gone to sleep last night. Asleep with Angela
curled next to him spoon fashion, his arm holding her close.

At some point during the night his underwear came off. Just a
guess, but they hadn’t sprung off of their own accord.

Which meant he’d taken them off.

Angel couldn’t have removed them without waking him. He’d had
to assist her.

He flung the sheet back and that’s when something black on his
toes caught his eye. Black and lacy and skimpy and definitely not his.

Angel’s panties.

Chapter Eleven

Deceiving oneself was a lot like masturbation. It was okay
until you realized you were just screwing yourself.

Jude preferred to face the cold, hard facts. He leaned back in
his office chair, rubbed a hand over his face, and wondered just how royally
he’d messed up his life in the past twenty-four hours.

He’d pissed off Mrs. Yamaguchi, who it would seem wasn’t happy
about his allergic stunt at her daughter’s birthday party—as if he’d swelled to
the size of
Shamoo
on purpose.

For the first time ever, Simon acted stilted around him.

Suspicious was more like it. But what the hell would Simon have
to be suspicious of? Unless he thought Jude was purposely screwing up Mrs.
Yamaguchi’s account, which was absurd. He’d arrange a time to talk with Simon
later. After he sent Mrs. Yamaguchi and her daughter an apology for having the
misfortune to eat some of their histamine-inducing shrimp dip.

Eat? He closed his eyes and saw Angela’s expression while she
licked the dip from her finger, while he licked the dip from her fingertip. Angel.
Yeah, that was where he’d really taken one in the rear.

He’d spent the night with her, apparently had sex with her, and
couldn’t remember a damn thing about it.
 

A classy woman like her deserved to be remembered, cherished,
but hell, if he could recall one thing after she gave him those allergy tablets.
He’d wanted to knock himself out, to keep himself true to his vow. Hell, had he
only lowered his ability to resist the temptation to peel the black lace off
her body?

Black lace that hugged her hips to perfection the last he
recalled being awake. Black lace she hadn’t been wearing this morning when
she’d left his apartment while he still slept. Black lace that had been tangled
in the sheet at his feet.

Hell. He had broken his vow.

He lowered his forehead to his desk and knocked against the
sleek surface. He needed to talk to Marcus.

He picked up the phone and dialed Marcus’ work number and got
his voice mail.

“Damn it. Where are you?” Jude spoke into the phone. “Call me
the minute you get this.”

He tried Marcus’ home number again, despite the fact he’d
already left several messages there, too.

The machine picked up.

“You better have one hell of an excuse for why you aren’t at
home or work on a workday.”

He hung up the phone and massaged his temple.

“You okay?” a sultry feminine voice asked from the doorway. A
voice he realized he’d been on edge waiting to hear, wondering how she’d react
to seeing him after spending the night in his bed. Wondering if she’d really
show up or if he’d have to track her down.

He would track her down if she left him. Never before had he
cared if a woman remained in his life, but with Angela, he cared.

“Angel.”

She smiled slowly, running her gaze over his fingers at his
temples. “Do you need an aspirin? An allergy pill?”

“No, no more pills.” He shook his head, unable to believe she
was here, smiling, acting like he hadn’t wakened in his bed alone with her
panties draped over his toes.

What happened between them?

Why had she left?

Had his dreams been reality and he’d made love to her?

He stared long and hard, but the mischief dancing in her eyes
gave away nothing. Nothing more than the secretive knowledge that she knew
something he didn’t.

Something he wanted to know.

How could he not know if he’d made love to her? It seemed
impossible, yet he wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel like a man who’d spent the night
having sex, but he’d been under the influence of the hospital medicines so
perhaps that made a difference?

His gaze dropped to the tight knit sweater top she wore. It was
unlike anything he’d seen her in. So was the short black skirt that barely
reached mid-thigh. She looked professional and sexy.

She crossed the room and perched along his desk to where he had
to glance up to look her in the face. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

An apology?

She waved her hand airily and shrugged. “I don’t do morning-
afters
. You understand, I’m sure.”

Morning-
afters
? That implied they had
sex. He’d broken his vow, had sex with Angel, and didn’t even remember? Forgetting
making love to this woman was something only an idiot would do. Unfortunately
he was the idiot.

“Morning-after?”

“Oh yeah.” She nodded, lowering her eyelids in a blatantly sexual
gesture. “I find it much easier to enjoy the nights when there isn’t an awkward
morning-after to deal with.” A sculpted brow lifted. “My leaving wasn’t a
problem?”

“No problem.” Except that he couldn’t remember a damn thing and
couldn’t quite believe that a woman apparently pulled his own number on
him—-had sex and ran.

“Actually, there is a problem,” she contradicted, her eyes
twinkling and her lips pursed with seduction.

There always was when it came to women.

“What problem would that be?”

She smiled, a secretive, sexy little smile that had him
hardening even before she whispered in his ear.

“It would seem that in my rush to get out of your bed,” her
eyes flashed with green fire and a lot of innuendo, “I left my panties.”

His gaze automatically dropped to the tiny skirt. The barely
there skirt that if she bent over just so in front of him he was sure to get a
peep.

She wasn’t wearing any panties
?

His throat constricted with the same intensity it had last
night following the shrimp. Damn, she did funny things to his insides.

Not in a million years had he expected Angel to flirt. Throw
things? Yes. Smile and make nice and tell him she wasn’t wearing panties? Hell
no.

“Stand up,” he heard himself say.

She stood, facing him and not bothering to cover her chest
despite the fact her nipples were on high beam. She usually tried to hide the
fact she wanted him. Not last night. Not today. Of course, they’d spent the
night in bed together so he supposed covering her breasts was a moot point.

And would have been a crying shame.

The fact her shirt covered them was sad enough.

He motioned with his fingers. “Turn.”

Her lips pursed with a small smile and she turned.

Jude’s eyes feasted on how the tight skirt hugged her bottom. No
panty lines.

He swallowed. “Why is that a problem?”

“Because when I look at you I get wet.” She winked and walked
back to the door with a sexy shake of her hips. Hips that were bare beneath her
skirt.

When she reached the door, she stopped, looked over her
shoulder. “Think about it. Wet and no panties can definitely present a
problem.”

Think about it? How was he supposed to get a damn thing done
for the rest of the day with only a wall separating him from Angel?

A broken vow. Sex he couldn’t remember. A suspicious Simon. An
upset big account holder. A missing best friend. A
pantyless
Angel. A wet
pantyless
Angel.

Oh yeah, Jude was totally screwed.

* * *

Avery closed Jude’s door and leaned back against it. Part of
her wanted to march back into his office, unbutton his pants, and help herself
to his more than generous anatomical attributes.

Another part wanted to march into his office and tell him the
truth about everything. Everything from the morning she’d first walked into his
office to why she’d spent the night with him.

She’d fought the same emotions while watching him sleep this
morning before she slipped out of his apartment. It’s why she’d had to leave. Otherwise,
she might have given in to the weakness within her chest.

Her emotions were so tangled with lust, guilt, and her heart that
she couldn’t make heads or tails out of the knots.

Not guilt, she reminded herself.

She didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. She’d warned
him, told him she wouldn’t play fair, and he’d been the one to present her with
the perfect get even score. He shouldn’t have told her if he hadn’t wanted her
to use the information.

She was a professional and he was a mark. A player. Just ask
any of the women he’d screwed over.

Only he didn’t fit into the neat stereo-type she kept trying to
shove him in to.

Life would be so much easier if he did.

The intercom on her phone buzzed and Avery crossed over to her
desk. Double checking to make sure it was his line, she answered. “Yes?”

“Are you really not wearing panties?”

Excitement bubbled low in her belly. Perspiration prickled the back
of her neck. “What do you think?”

“That I need you in my office. Now.”

She perched on the edge of the desk and twirled the phone cord.
“I just left your office,” she reminded in her sultriest voice.

“Then you know the way and shouldn’t have any problems
retracing your steps. Get in here.”

“Why?” Her heart raced with anticipation, her uterus
contracting with memories of what his touch did to her insides.

“Because I need you.” Frustration dripped from his words.

Avery gave a low laugh, thrilling at the power surging through
her. A power that came from knowing she got Jude hot with a few
well chosen
words. A power that he mutually held over her.

“Do you need me to take dick-
tation
?”

She heard him swallow. “Now, Angel. Get in here. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

But not before she killed the hidden TGEA cameras.

In less than a minute Avery was inside Jude’s office. She
closed the door without it catching completely.

She cocked a hip at him. “You rang?”

“What happened last night?”

Avery bit back surprise. He was asking her outright what
happened between them? The direct approach. She liked that in a person. Not
that it should matter in a mark. She hardened her resolve to do this right. Right
meant keeping things light, sexy, fun.

“You were there.”

“Humor me.”

“Is that anything like what I did to you last night?” she
teased, determined to side-track him, and not have a too serious conversation. She
really didn’t want to discuss what happened last night anyway.

“You tell me.”

“How about I show you instead?” Not taking her eyes from his
she hooked her shirt and lifted it over her head.
 

“This is what happened last night?” His breath caught, his eyes
mesmerized by her lacy bra.

She nodded.

She definitely had his attention. She wanted his attention. Craved
it.

But she couldn’t lose control. Not like she had last night and
at the bar. Today, she’d be the one in charge. Today was all about revenge.

Last night had been, too, she reminded herself.

It hadn’t been about her and Jude, but revenge for hire. Nothing
more.

At least that’s what she told herself as she pushed on his
chest, sending his chair rolling back a few feet. Removing him from beneath the
desk so she’d have room to do whatever she wanted to his body.

Since her fingers were already on his chest, she slipped one
button then another undone. When she went for the one above his crotch—-his
bulging crotch—-he covered her hand.

“What kind of game are you playing, Angel?”

“Game?” She held herself rigid, refusing to give any emotion
away. “No games. This isn’t child’s play. Now shush. Let me show you.”

Excitement arced through her at the heat radiating from his
gaze. He was as turned on as she was. Good. She wouldn’t question why it was
good, but just acknowledge that it was.
 

Eyes locked with his, she lowered to her knees. Her hand still
clamped within his grip, she leaned forward. She nuzzled against his flat
stomach and then undid a shirt button with her tongue and teeth.

He groaned, his hand releasing hers and moving into her hair. With
the first tangle of his fingers she felt her clip give way. It didn’t matter. She
was here to seduce Jude. To push him over the edge. Nothing mattered but that.

She shook out her hair, letting the long tresses fall over his
hand.

He ran his fingers through the loose strands. “I love your
hair.”

When she undid the last shirt button, she eyed his straining
jeans. Although she could easily tie a cherry stem into a knot, she didn’t
think her tongue could manage Jude’s button down fly. Not with all that
pressure against it.

She cupped him through his jeans, massaging the soft denim. She
bent and, working her way from bottom up, placed a kiss over each button. Jude
held her against the last one. Tension and barely controlled restraint evident
in the way his hand shook while he palmed her head.