“You could've just dropped me off at Departures.”
“True, but then I wouldn't have gotten to do this.” Pulling her tight against him, he kissed her with everything he had. She was going to remember him, remember what it felt like to be in his arms. He took her mouth, promising himself he'd take no prisoners. The kiss was so intense the ground beneath his feet rumbled, and it had nothing to do with the airplane taking off overhead.
When Shannon wrapped her arms around his waist, he spun her around. He lifted her onto the trunk of the car, spread her legs, and stepped between them. It put her just at the right height to mold her body around his. Even through the fabric of their jeans, her heat scorched his hard-on. He wanted her naked and didn't give a shit who could see them. This was Shannon, and right here right now, if only for this moment, she was his. He trailed his mouth over her jaw, thrilled by the kittenlike purrs she made. He nibbled on her neck, wishing like hell it were her nipples he had in his mouth.
“Okay,” she said in a breathy gasp, her hands now molded to his chest. “We need to stop.”
“No,” he groaned. “Not yet.”
“I'll miss my plane.”
Grudgingly, he drew back. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Noah.” She gave his shoulder a playful slap. “We need to stop thinking with our hormones and get real for a minute. Our lives are in two very different cities. I love my job, and from what I've seen, yours is important to you too. Starting something would be pointless and hurt too much when it ended. Picking up where we left off is for the movies. We're not those kids. We shouldn't forget that.”
“Sounds like you gave this a lot of thought.”
“I loved you, Noah. You were my life. I know you don't believe it, but it killed me to leave you. I'm happy we had last night.”
Reluctantly, he allowed Shannon to jump off his trunk.
“I know.” She was right. “This would never work, but if you're ever back in this part of the country . . .”
“Same to you. Look me up if you come to Vegas.”
He chose to walk her inside, a small part of him not ready to let her go. They were leaving check-in when he heard a name that made him stop cold.
“Mr. Oates?”
Noah turned.
Miguel and Tomás Santos headed their way. “What a surprise to see you.” He extended his hand to Noah. “Ms. Lewis,” he said with a smile that made Noah want to punch him.
“Mr. Santos.”
“We should drop the formalities. After all, we are business associates. Please, call me Miguel.”
Tomás said squat; from what they'd learned last night, he was the hired gun, there to make sure no one got close enough to whack his boss.
“Are you flying out?” Shannon asked.
“Actually, I'm going to Vegas for a business meeting. Perhaps we're on the same flight. I assume you're going home?”
“Yes, home.”
Beneath her smile, Noah knew her well enough to see she was working hard to maintain her cool.
“And you?” he said to Noah. “You're not returning to LA?”
“I'm actually going to Vegas, spending some time at the dealership there. What luck. If you're up for it, we could continue our business discussion. Maybe Ms. Lewis will change seats with you and we can talk on the plane?”
“Alas, Tomás has a fear of flying. It's better I sit with him. But as I will be in town, I'm sure we can find a time to meet.” He grinned, his eyes darting to Shannon. “If you'll excuse us, we have to check in.”
Shannon waited until the pair was busy with the airlines before grabbing his arm. “What the hell? Noah, you're not on my flight.”
“No, but I will be. Come on, let's get out of here so I can circle back after he passes security.”
“What if it's full?” she asked, running after him.
“I'll flash the badge.”
“Okay, then why did you offer to change seats? I'm not sitting beside that guy. He scares me more than Miguel. Does he even speak?”
He stopped jogging. “He's a hired gun. Santos will keep him near.”
She visibly relaxed. “What do you think he's up to? He told me he'd see me again. Do you think he was flying to Vegas, or did he arrange it after last night?”
“I'm not sure.”
“Well, you're a plethora of information,” she said, folding her arms. “You don't have clothes with you.”
“I'll buy what I need.” He grabbed her hand and headed to the ticket counter. Then he'd call his team. Santos was going to Vegas. Why? And when had he booked the ticket?
* * *
Once they landed he considered shuffling Shannon out of the airport and arranging for her luggage to be picked up. As she'd pointed out, he didn't have any, and it would look odd, his traveling without some kind of carry-on. But he wouldn't chance Santos spotting hers and finding her address on the tag. So instead he flashed his identification and asked another traveler to loan him his, promising to have it delivered to his hotel. The man was more than eager to cooperate, citing his first Vegas adventure.
He made sure to stay at the opposite end of the turnstile, and only after picking up the luggage and tucking away the tags did he approach Santos. “While you're in town,” he said, “stop by the dealership. Let's see if we can find you that car.”
He'd told Shannon to keep her distance. She was right. It was possible Santos had just been fishing for information. So for now they were crossing their fingers and hoping Santos believed Shannon was a crooked accountant and clueless as to their true criminal activity.
Outside Noah went to hail a cab, but Santos had other ideas. “Please, share my limo. No need to take a cab.”
Another woman might have panicked. Not Shannon. “Thank you. That's very generous, but I assume you're heading to the Strip, maybe the Palace?”
“Yes. How did you guess?”
“You look the Palace type. Money, class, and you like to have a good time. Caesar's tends to draw that crowd. Have you been before?” she asked, with such cool, no one could tell the man made her super uncomfortable.
“Yes, but on business only.”
“Well, then, try to grab a show while you're here. There are some good ones. Don't spend all your time in the casinos, or with strange women your mother wouldn't approve of.” She gave him such a sexy smile that if it had been any man other than Santos, it would have put Noah's teeth on edge.
She kept him talking until his limo pulled up. While the driver took his bags she talked about different shows, which she recommended and which she didn't. She mentioned the big acts, and before Noah knew what was happening, they found themselves off the sidewalk and in front of the cab that had pulled up behind the limo.
“I can get you front-row tickets to Cirque. I have a friend in the box office,” she said and handed her bag to the cabby. “We're on the opposite end of the city. I wouldn't feel right about you going that far out of your way.” Opening her door, she put one leg in. “Just let Noah know when you're free. It was nice seeing you again.” She smiled, got in the cab, and closed the door.
Thoroughly impressed, Noah turned to Santos. “I'll expect your call?”
“Why don't we arrange to meet tomorrow morning, say ten? And we'll go over your inventory.”
Noah nodded and joined Shannon. “Wow, that was something to watch.”
“You think he bought it?”
“Hell, I bought it.” He gave the cab driver Shannon's address.
“Where are you staying?” she asked as Noah switched his phone off airplane mode.
“I'm not sure.” His cell buzzed with incoming texts. “Why? You offering your place?”
“No, but I know the managers at a few hotels. I can get you a free room.”
Admittedly, he was disappointed she didn't invite him. He hadn't planned on their reunion going further than dinner with Santos. He certainly hadn't planned on sleeping with her. If he was being totally honest with himself, a small part of him had considered it, but that was before she'd been a total bitch on the phone. He hadn't expected that from her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Aren't you going to read your messages?”
“In a minute. Why were you so cold to me when I called? Why did you refuse to see me?” It had hurt, even though he'd told himself it hadn't.
“Are you kidding?”
“No.” He'd specifically handled it as a professional. He hadn't wanted his team to accuse him of misconduct because he once dated her.
“If you'd asked me to meet up and talk, I would have. But you acted like we'd meant nothing to each other. I'd barely gotten over the shock of you calling when you stunned me with JJ's murder. And your tone implied I knew something about it. I'd just told JJ to go to hell. I wanted nothing more to do with that man. Honestly,” she said, patting his hand, “you handled it badly.”
Yeah, he guessed he had. “
If
we're being honest . . . I kept telling myself I didn't care how you'd react to seeing me again. Then I heard your voice. And I admit everything I felt that day I found out you'd left came rushing back.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It is what it is. We're not those kids anymore. It's time I stop thinking like I was.”
“Truth be told, Noah I was thrilled to see you . . . until you slapped cuffs on me.”
The cab driver, who'd been ignoring their conversation up to then, gave them an odd look in the rearview mirror.
“I handled it poorly,” he admitted. He scrolled his messages, silently cursing.
“What?” Shannon asked, nodding to his phone.
He shook his head, not wanting the cabby to overhear.
Santos wasn't the only one in town. Casales was joining him.
Chapter Fifteen
“Y
ou don't have to see me up,” Shannon said. “Not if you have someplace to be.”
“Damon is flying in later tonight. So I'm free until then.”
The doorman opened the door and she went ahead to the elevator while he told the cabby to wait.
“Damon is joining you?”
“When Santos said he wanted the car, we planned for Damon to come out and deal with it. Now we'll both be in town.”
“Well, if you're sure, but I can manage to go up alone,” she said.
“Are you afraid to be alone with me?” he asked, piqued by the nervous edge he'd caught in her voice.
“As if.” The elevator doors sprang open and she rushed inside. “Let's go, if you're coming.”
Encouraging words if he'd ever heard them. He waited for the doors to close and before she had time to blink, he pinned her against the wall and kissed her. If this was their last kiss, he was making it a good one.
For a split second Shannon considered pushing him off. Her brain did, anyway. Her body had a mind of its own. The traitorous thing was not only
not
pushing him off but wrapping itself around him. A horny teenager had nothing on her. Surely she could keep her hands off him. Who was she kidding? Maybe it was knowing she was finally free of JJ. Maybe it was surviving a madman's plot to kill her friend. Or maybe she'd never allowed herself to think about how much she'd missed Noah, to remember how much she had loved him. Whatever the reason, right here, right now, all the gut-wrenching pain she'd endured the weeks, the months after she'd left Noah teetered on exploding. And she didn't want to endure that pain again. Not yet. Not if she could keep him for a few minutes more.
She didn't want to let him go so she wasn't prepared for the moment when he broke the kiss and stepped back as the elevator doors opened. He grabbed her luggage handle and walked ahead.
“Shannon, find your keys.”
What the hell? Hot to ice cold; was his intention to work her up, then shove her into her apartment and leave? She found her keys, but before she could put them in the lock, she again found herself plastered against a wall, Noah's body molded to hers. The keys fell to the floor, her purse by her feet. Noah pinned her wrists over her head, pressing his rock-hard everything into her welcoming body. And welcome him she did. “Noah, God, Noah.” Why had she never bothered to look him up?
“Let's go inside,” he said, the husky words against her ear sending tremors down her spine.
“Okay, but you'll have to unstick yourself from me so I can pick up my keys.”
He laughed softly into her neck. Letting go of her wrists, he slid down her body to kneel on one knee. He pushed her T-shirt up and, with both hands on her ribs, peppered her belly with kisses. Her knees weakened. Popping the snap of her jeans, he drew circles around her belly button with his tongue. She fisted her hands into his hair. “Noah . . . keys.”
If they didn't get inside soon, they'd be having sex outside her apartment door.
“Keys,” he repeated. Reaching for them with one hand, he trailed kisses down her belly and over her jeans. He shocked her, pressing his open mouth over her core. The denim did nothing to stop the sudden zing hitting her girl parts.
But he didn't stop. He did the opposite. He squeezed his lips, his teeth biting into her skin through the fabric. Her fingers flew open as she clung to the door, arching her back into his mouth. “Noah, stop.” Because if he didn't, she was going to come right here in the hall.
“Keys; got them,” he said and stood. He unlocked the door and kissed her one last time before turning the knob.
They'd barely made it inside when her phone rang.
“Leave it,” he said. “Let your machine get it.”
She wasn't going to answer it and allowed him to drag her up the stairs.
Then she remembered the cabby outside. “Noah, the cab. You told him to wait. Let me call my doorman.”
Groaning, he released her hand. “Hurry.”
She made it to the bottom of the stairs when her phone rang again. She glanced up at Noah over her shoulder. “It's my office. I should get that.”
He nodded and joined her in the living room.
“Kind of late, isn't it?” He circled his arms around her waist from behind and nibbled on her neck.
“Maybe someone is pulling a long day.” She allowed herself one long groan and picked up. “Hello.”
“Ms. Joyce, this is Roger Willis, head of security. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but someone broke into your office. I think you'd better come down here.”
Damn, damn, damn. She had insurance, but replacing stuff was always a pain in the ass. “What was taken?” She tried to recall what valuables she'd left behind other than her computer. Confidential client files were stored on secure servers and she'd cleaned off her desk right before Noah had showed up to arrest her.
“Well, that's just it. It doesn't look like anything was taken.”
“I don't understand. Why would someone break in and not take anything?”
Noah had stopped kissing her neck “What's wrong?”
“I really think you need to come here,” Roger said.
Why didn't that sound good?
* * *
Shannon stood inside her door, looking in at the destruction of her office. She now understood why Willis had requested she come down. The only thing left standing was her desk. Her leather chair had been sliced open, her couch slashed. Books had been pulled off the shelves and littered the room as if a violent storm had swept in and left mayhem behind. And yet nothing had been taken. Careful not to step on the debris, she made her way to her desk, the police warning her not to touch anything. Inside her top drawer was the small diamond locket she'd bought for her secretary's thirtieth birthday, yet to be wrapped, untouched and right where she'd left it.
Noah came in behind her. “Are you certain nothing was taken?”
She pointed to the gift. “Why trash my office and not take jewelry? Or the computer? Or any other office? Why mine?” That was the most disturbing.
“Shannon?”
She turned in time to see Lieutenant Horace Cooper wading his way through the destruction.
“Hi, Horace.”
“I was in the neighborhood when the call came in. I thought I'd come by to make sure everyone was doing their job.”
“Maggie called you, didn't she?” She'd gotten a text from Maggie on her way down and had had to tell her about the break-in.
“That too.”
“This is Special Agent Noah Monroe,” she said, making the introductions. “Noah, this is Lieutenant Cooper, a friend.”
“I didn't know the feds were interested in office vandalism,” Horace said, oddly defensive.
“No, sir. I was with Shannon when she got the call.”
Horace nodded, the look he gave Noah far from friendly. “I see they dusted,” he said, pointing to the white powder scattered across her desk. “Were you working on a special case? Something that could have triggered this?”
“I gave my files to your men, but I don't see how. I'd pawned off all the high-profile cases on my partners. I was working on minor files and pro-bono work. Nothing anyone would need to trash my office to get to.”
“Okay, well, if you're certain nothing is missing, go home. I'll let you know what we find.”
“Thanks.” But something just didn't seem right. A cold foreboding stopped her in the middle of this once luxurious office. She turned and looked back at the mess, Noah by her side. “Noah? Could Santos have something to do with this?”
“What in the hell did you get her mixed up in?” Horace tended to be more protective of Maggie than Shannon, assuming, and rightly so, that Shannon could take care of herself. But right now he wasn't very happy with Noah.
“What makes you think she's mixed up in anything?”
Shannon knew why. “Because Maggie didn't only call him about the break-in.”
“She's worried about you. I've dealt with my fair share of dumbass feds, but dragging a civilian into a major sting operation is beyond stupid.”
Shannon understood the dynamics between law enforcement officers. While they didn't like their territories stomped on, they would cooperate with one another if it helped their case. While Noah didn't owe the lieutenant an explanation Santos
was
in Vegas.
He chose the professional approach. “I don't know what you've heard and as this is a federal case, I'd like to hear about it. But understand, she was not in any danger. Her part is over.”
“Don't pull that bullshit with me. I know what you did.”
She appreciated Horace's concern and was about to tell him everything was all right when she remembered what Christian had said. He too had expressed concern. Add that to how Santos made her skin crawl and she began to wonder if Noah really had put her in harm's way.
“She participated in an ongoing investigation. Without her, we would've been dead in the water,” Noah said in his defense.
“So that excuses the way that participation was extorted? Bullshit.”
Horace's escalating temper worried Shannon. What had Noah gotten her into? She'd assumed he'd never risk her life. Had she naïvely relied on their history to keep her safe? She looked at the destruction surrounding her. This was no break-in. Out of all the offices on this floor, only hers had been vandalized. And considering the violent slashes left on her couch, this could certainly be considered personal. Had she pissed off Santos? Was he sending her a message?
“Shannon.” Noah touched her arm. “I don't think this is his style. Even if he suspected what we'd been up to, why do something like this? It makes no sense. Trust me, I'd be the first one to lock you away if I believed you were in danger.”
Horace blew out a heavy breath. “I hate to say it . . . but I agree with the fed. This isn't the cartel's style. And I think I can safely say that Maggie is going to insist you go to her house.”
“She will. But I don't want to involve her in whatever mess I've gotten myself in to.” Like it or not, she'd agreed to help. She'd known they had nothing on her and still she'd gone along with their scheme.
“That may be true, but Christian has made certain no one and nothing gets into their place without his knowledge. Until we find the person responsible, maybe it's better that you lay low for a while.”
“I can't do that. I have a firm to run.” This was her proudest accomplishment. No way would she let someone terrorize her away from it.
“And I understand that,” Horace said, “but it would only be for a few days. Let us try to figure out who did this.”
“As much as I hate to agree with the locals,” Noah said, giving Horace a pointed stare, “go hang at Maggie's.”
“This,” she said, indicating with her hands her destroyed office, “could be nothing.”
“True,” Noah agreed. “But why don't we make certain? Let's see if Vegas PD comes up with something and I'll try to rule out Santos. Plus, Shannon, why risk running into him?”
“I doubt we travel in the same circles.”
Noah shrugged. “You never know.”
He couldn't possibly believe the bullshit he was spouting. But to make everyone happy, Maggie most of all, spending a few days in her guesthouse wasn't the end of the world.
* * *
After stopping at Shannon's place for another weekend bag, Noah followed her to Summerlin Estates, the gated community Maggie Anderson called home. He had to admit he was eager to talk to Christian Beck face-to-face. He admired the man's tenacity. After ten years of persistence, Beck had finally closed the cold case on his sister's murder. With the feds he had a reputation for doing what was needed to get their man. And working for Ryan Sheppard, he'd beaten the odds and pulled off some high-risk rescues.
The newlyweds' home itself was also gated. Good. Anyone would be hard-pressed to get to her. He hadn't wanted to scare Shannon, but whoever had destroyed her office had wanted to send a message, and it wasn't the warm and fuzzy kind. If they got lucky, Vegas PD could pull prints to work with. While he'd been waiting for Shannon, he'd done some recon on his own. He found it odd that Shannon's office had been vandalized the day after JJ's death. Maybe it was nothing.
Stopping at the gates, he went to get out of the car when Shannon touched his arm. “Wait. I sent Maggie a text. She'll buzz us in.”
It felt good to have her touch him, no matter the reason. He was such a sap and so royally screwed, it wasn't funny. He tried to convince himself it was remnants of what they'd once meant to each other and nothing more. Those kids had grown up. He wasn't falling for her again. He couldn't be. He didn't know this Shannon.
And maybe if he said it enough times, he'd start to believe it.
He drove up the driveway and parked the car behind a YJ Jeep. Before he even opened Shannon's door, a woman came out. The pretty blonde had this girl-next-door quality that contradicted everything he knew about her. She'd always been fiercely protective of Shannon, and he'd heard that extended to the women who worked for her at the club. She'd risked her own life to save Shannon. And for that he owed her.
The women exchanged hugs.
“Looks like the shoe's on the other foot,” Maggie said.
“Not even close,” Shannon replied.
“Noah.” Maggie offered him a quick hug. “It's nice to see you again. But if you've screwed with Shannon's life, your ass is mine.”