Slave to Love (17 page)

She meant to deny him.

He could feel it in his bones.

Every time he looked at her she lowered her gaze, playing her slave role like a pro. But he saw past the acting. She was horrified by her own behavior in the seraglio. By what had transpired between them. And she was determined to withdraw. But he wasn't about to let her wriggle out of the profoundly intimate bond they'd established.

As for the uncomfortable feeling that he had somehow overstepped some intangible boundary he'd been shying away from his whole life, well, he'd deal with that later.

Meanwhile, he never let Caro slip out of his reach. Her brief surrender in the dark had kicked in his territorial instincts in a big way. He'd started her down this path, and it was his responsibility to protect her, keep her safe, and he was determined to do so. He wouldn't ever let uncontrollable emotion put his woman in danger again. From himself or anyone else.

Thankfully, Caro's own resistance to a relationship would help him keep his emotional distance, even while he enjoyed her body. By holding his own feelings aloof he would protect her from the disaster he was courting by getting close. But physically, he was resolute. He meant to have her, fully and often.

For the rest of the time they spent in the club, he kept his hand on the small of her back, or her arm, or around her shoulder. He danced with her close as a shadow. He ushered her between the various rooms, showing her off, stopping frequently to talk to the curious and envious men they encountered along the way. Her subtle skittishness only lent her an air of innocent mystery which made her all the more appealing as his pleasure slave. By the end of the evening, Mick was absolutely sure if the man he sought was there, he must have noticed them. Now the only question was, would the sick fuck make a move tonight?

Or would Mick be allowed the chance to fulfill his own plans for Caro, free of untimely and unwanted interruption?

***

“Time to go,” he said quietly when his watch glowed nearly two a.m..

Caro speared him a glance, the look in her eyes reminiscent of a druggie caught with the goods. She was thinking of what would happen when they got home. Just as he was. Obviously she felt threatened by what was developing between them. Christ, she wasn't the only one.

“Club's closing. We've got to hang a few minutes in the parking lot. Let him get in position to follow us,” Mick said.

She nodded, winding her forefinger in her leash. “Okay. I'm all set.”

Sure she was. He couldn't tell what she dreaded more, a possible confrontation with the killer, or the inevitable one coming between them. The least he could do was ease her mind on one of those scores.

“Don't worry. LAPD's got our backsides. Everyone's ready for him.”

“Yep.”

“And remember, none of the couples were attacked the night they came to Brimstone.”

“I know.”

“We just need to be alert so we can spot him when he follows us.”

“Right.” Her shoulders straightened. “Listen, Mick—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Shhh.” He kissed her. Short, intense. “Let's go.”

Keeping a vigilant eye on the jostling stream of members exiting at the same time, he slung an arm tight around her stiff shoulders and led her out to the Z. The two men Cody had in the parking lot were still there, talking and looking around as though waiting for friends.

Mick went to the passenger side of the convertible and leaned his butt against the door.

“Kiss me,” he said, glancing around the lot. He held out his arms. When she hesitated, he added, “C'mon, Caro. We've got to play for time.”

“Enjoying yourself?” she ground out, stepping closer.

He lifted a corner of his mouth. “I live for undercover work.”

“You're way over the line on this one, Mick.”

“Am I?”

She looked away. “I never agreed to any of this stuff when you asked me to be on your team.”

“No. But you did when you became my lover.”

He took hold of her leash, right next to the collar he'd had specially made for her, and tugged her to stand between his splayed legs. “Last night you said, ‘
Take me over the edge, Mick
’. Change your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Too late.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, sliding his tongue between her warm, reluctant lips, momentarily forgetting all about his quarry and his plans. Her recalcitrance slowly melted into desire under the patient plying of his mouth.

“It's too late to back out now,” he murmured when he drew back. “We're way past the point of no return.”

***

The drive back to Pasadena was silent and filled with sizzling tension. When Mick spotted their LAPD tail after a block and pointed out the car to her, Caro jerked a nod and forced herself to concentrate. For the rest of the drive she carefully scanned the traffic, searching tensely for familiar faces from the club.

By the time they pulled into her darkened driveway, her heart was pounding double-time. There'd been no sign of the killer. Everyone had hoped he’d follow them home tonight, casing them and the house in preparation for his attack in a few days. She'd been nervous about that, but this was far worse.

“Where is the fucking bastard?” Mick asked, pounding the steering wheel, knuckles white. She'd never seen him this agitated before. His usual icy cool was completely shot. Could he also be reacting to the tension between them?

“I don't understand,” she murmured. “What went wrong? We
had
to be convincing enough.”

In the pregnant silence, everything they'd done at Brimstone to be convincing enough assailed her mind in mortifying detail.

“Damn it,” Mick finally said. “He wasn't there.”

A strangled choke escaped her. “Not
there
?”

“We knew all along it might take several trips to lure him out. I’d just hoped...”

“Oh, hell.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought that it had all been in vain. And that she might have to endure Mick's outrageous behavior for another night.

Mick's behavior? No, her own.
She
was the one who'd sat there in full view of dozens of strangers and let him suck on her bare breasts.

“We’ll just have to go back again tomorrow.”

Damn.

She popped her eyes open and grabbed for the car door handle. She didn't get far. Yanked back by the throat, she turned to find him holding the end of her leash in his hand, eyes blazing.

“Going somewhere?”

“Bed.”

“We should wait a few more minutes. Just in case.”

“Alone, Mick.”

His eyes didn't waver as he handed her the leash. Then he broke contact and pulled a small red gym bag from under the seat. Unlocking the glove compartment, he retrieved a service revolver from it and stuffed the Berretta into the bag.

He wasn't going to take no for an answer
.

Panic flashed through her. She couldn't do this. Somehow, she had to talk her way out of this untenable situation. Find a logical argument to convince him they shouldn't get within a mile of each other off-duty.

Ever since she'd first glimpsed this tall, arrogant, unobtainable god of the Homicide Department, he'd fascinated her. She'd fantasized about him. Flirted with him. Wanted him. Hell, she'd been half in love with the man for a year.

And all that time she had thought herself safe from his interest because of his reputation for not dating cops. But it seemed she was wrong. Fantasizing about what it might be like to be sexually involved with him had been bad enough. But reality had far exceeded her wildest imaginings. And now he'd sighted those case-hardened eyes on her, and she felt helpless to stop his relentless pursuit. Already she'd tumbled into waters far over her head.

She felt cornered. Trapped by her own mad attraction to a man who was anything but the icy image he projected. He was hot, visceral, full of contradictions and potent, roiling emotion.

If she let this man into her life, she knew it would be the end of her. She wasn't strong enough to resist his seductive games. Tonight had proven that. He'd so easily swept her into a frightening world she hadn't known existed. Had shown her places within herself she was terrified to probe any deeper.

By continuing down this road she'd only be causing herself a world of hurt. He'd readily admitted he had lots of lovers, and while vowing to be true while they were together, he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in anything long-term. She meant nothing to him, and never would. Never could, if they ended up in Homicide together. She knew that.

She felt his large, warm hand slide over her breast. Her traitorous body responded instantly, puckering her nipple and shooting a pang of painful desire straight to her center. She battled back the sting of frustrated tears. What would she do?

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. Her body's reaction to his touch said it all. There was no way in hell she'd be able to resist Mick McGraw if he decided he wanted her, for however long he wished.

She launched herself out of the car. Her spike heels clacked an uneven tattoo as she marched up the cement walkway to her side of the duplex, praying she wouldn't trip in the dark. On the steps to her half of the porch she took a deep breath and counted to ten. Mick had the key to the front door.

Impatiently she waited as he sauntered up the walkway like he had all night. Which he probably figured he had.

Stepping onto the dimly lit porch, he eased the gym bag onto the top step and regarded her with an intensity that almost knocked her over.

“In a hurry?”

“Yes. I'm beat.”

A soft gust of wind twirled the dry leaves around on the front lawn. She glanced down the deserted street and spotted Brady and Denny silhouetted in their darkened car, watching them.

“No. You're scared,” he said.

“You're crazy.”

He closed the distance between them instantly, backing her up against a wooden porch column. “I told you before,
don't call me crazy
.”

Abruptly, he stepped back. “We should stand here for a minute. In case by some miracle he managed to follow us without being spotted.”

She nodded and studied the reflection of the moon in the shiny leather of her shoes. “Mick, I'm not kidding. I want you to sleep on the couch.”

“I can't.” His voice was calm, but when she looked up his expression was smoldering. “I've taken about as much frustration as a man can endure for one night.”

“I can't sleep with you again, Mick.”

With a curse, he grasped her arms. “Caro, tell me you don't want to be under me as badly as I want you there and I won't touch you.”

She stared up at him, unable to lie. “Go home,” she said. “After we're sure the killer won't show up, you can leave—”

“You know damned well I can't do that! Aside from anything else, the case comes first.” His fingers tightened on her arms. “What's to say he isn't watching us, even now?”

She glanced around nervously. “But—”

“We blow this thing, it's my last, best chance to trap the bastard.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Fuck,” he said, “Why are you doing this, tonight of all nights?” Anger and frustration crackled in his voice.

“I don't want to get involved.”

“I don't want to get involved, either.”

“That's the whole problem.”

“You're not making any sense!”

“Think about it, Mick,” she said, grasping at the most logical reason. “We’re both risking our jobs. Why do that for something you already know won’t last?”

His eyes narrowed. “Who says it won’t last?”

“You did! Just now,” she said exasperatedly.

“No. What I said was I don’t want to get involved.
Emotionally
. That’s something I can’t give you, Caro, so I didn’t want to mislead you. But physically, I’ll get as involved as you want, for as long as you want me.”