Snapped (13 page)

He glanced at the glasses. "Thanks."

"So was your shower nice and
cold?"

He expelled a loud breath. "Can we
talk about something else? You know, have a normal conversation like two normal
adults?"

Touchy. Looks like she had hit a raw
nerve after all. That explained the outburst at least, although not the
sentiment behind it. She never doubted he thought her a slut, just that he
wouldn't have said so to her face if he wasn't under intense pressure.

"Sure," she chirped. No need to
let him think his comments hurt. She'd get her own back some other way—a fun,
adventurous way. She buttered his toast, scrambled the eggs, then piled egg and
bacon onto his plate. She set the plate in front of him. "I've got just
the topic."

Nick chewed on a piece of bacon and
glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as if he didn't trust her. He
swallowed. "Sounds ominous."

She pulled out the other chair and sat
across from him. "I think I should call Mack Thompson."

The fork stopped an inch from his lips. "No."
He continued eating.

"Why not? It might be the best way
to get him to come forward."

"No. We've already tried contacting
him on that number and there's no answer. It's been traced to a small office
that's empty except for the phone and answering machine. I've got someone
watching it."

"But if he calls in to pick up his
messages, he may never even set foot in the office." She leaned forward. "Look,
I'll leave a message for him. When he gets in contact with me, I'll set up a
meeting and you can stake it out. No problem."

"It's the bit after the meeting that
I'm worried about. He could use you as a hostage and then we're screwed." He
munched on a piece of toast and shook his head. "Forget it, Lucy, it won't
happen."

"Fine." She sat back and glared
at the stubborn mule. He was a pain in the ass. She could handle the likes of
Mack Thompson. Probably. At least she needed to try—they were a little short on
leads right now. "Then I guess we'll be stuck in this house a while
longer, because I don't think he's going to show himself." She leaned
forward again and dropped her voice. "Stuck here, alone, getting to know
every little thing about each other. Every dimple, every freckle, every—"

"Shut it, Lucy." He pushed his
plate away and stood. "I get the picture, but it doesn't change anything. Your
safety's more important than my..."

"Comfort?" She stood too. "Fine
by me. In fact," she touched his shoulder as he turned away, "I can't
wait to find out more about you. But I was only thinking of how this intimacy
would affect you."

"Well don't." He moved away. "I've
got to make some phone calls."

"Sure thing. And don't worry, I'll
do the dishes," she called after him as he disappeared into the living
room. She stacked their plates in the sink and spun on the faucets, watching
the water slide over the dirty dishes. When she turned them off, she heard
Nick's voice rumble through the doorway but she couldn't hear his words.

Fifteen minutes later, the dishes were
clean, dried and put away when Nick entered.

"Good timing," she said. "If
you didn't want to lend a hand."

He scanned the bench tops. "You
dried
and
put away? You're a neat freak."

"I'm a freak when it comes to a lot
of things. So what's happening with the case?"

He sighed and leaned against the kitchen
bench as if he were a neighbor dropping in for a chat. She'd like to have this
sexy man as her neighbor. Especially if she could get him to crack. Imagine
having sex with him anytime. She could just knock on his door whenever she felt
horny. It was her dream come true. Hot, permanent sex.

"Not much. Although we do know the
same person killed Annabelle Smith and John Mollino."

"We knew that already."

He shook his head. "We'd guessed it.
And we're still not a hundred percent sure. The bullets were fired from the
same weapon, but it doesn't mean the same finger pulled the trigger."

"I think we can assume it did."

"I don't assume anything. That's
when mistakes happen."

Lucy felt like saluting. The man was way
too uptight. He really needed loosening up. Maybe a massage. If he let her get
close enough. She sighed. No way was that likely to happen now. He barely even
looked her way let alone got within touching distance. She had her work cut out
for her, that's for sure.

"So where does this leave us?"
she asked.

His gaze locked with hers. "Us?"

"You, me, this house. Us. How long
do I need to stay here?"

He shrugged. "Not sure yet. We're
watching your apartment and your phone's tapped but we still don't know who
threatened you and we still don't have any leads on Thompson."

"Then let me—"

"No!" He strode out of the
kitchen. "Not a chance. You're not a cop."

"I was once."

"But you're not now. I, ah, I mean
the department, won't put you in that sort of danger. The situation's too
volatile."

She wanted to beat her fists against his
chest to get him to see reason but she didn't think it would do any good. He
could pick her off as if she were a fly.

His cell phone rang. "Dante." He
listened, glanced at her, turned his back and swore into the phone. "No
way." Another long pause. "Chief, this is too dangerous. She's not—"
His shoulders slumped and he let out a long, loud sigh that sounded a lot like
a growl. "Okay. Fine." He hung up and spun round, the tiny phone
almost disappearing in the big fist that clenched and unclenched around it. "Looks
like you get your fun."

"I'm going to call Thompson?"

"Yeah." He held up the phone. "Chief's
orders. He says it'll speed things up."

"But you don't agree."

"I don't agree with putting
civilians in unnecessary danger. But I'm not the boss."

"That's very noble of you, Nick. But
don't you think you're taking the white knight thing a little too far?"

"Cut it out, Lucy. I don't like
this, I don't agree with it, but I'm going along with it, only because you're
going to be wired and I'm going to be around the corner."

"I'm flattered you care so
much." She was. Only her mother and Abbey had ever been so concerned for
her.

"Don't be." He looked down at
the display on the silent phone then slipped it into his pocket. "It's not
personal."

Lucy nodded slowly. She knew it wasn't
personal. He'd be the same way with anyone, especially a woman. So why did she
wish he'd singled her out for special treatment?

"Let's get going then," she
said.

"It's not happening till tomorrow. They
need time to organize the equipment and clearance."

"Oh. So what'll we do 'til
then?"

His eyes lifted to hers. "We're
stuck here for now."

She smiled. "Damn."

CHAPTER
9

"I'd better call my mother,"
Lucy said. "She'll be worried if she doesn't hear from me."

Nick should say no. Lucy's connection to
the outside world
should
be temporarily suspended until this is over. But,
according to O'Connor, her mother had already called her daughter's apartment
three times yesterday and had sounded a little panicky the last time.

He nodded. "But don't tell her where
you are."

She grinned and leapt off the couch where
she'd curled up with a book for the last hour. She went into the kitchen and
moments later he heard her telling her mother not to worry, that she'd been
staying with a friend. Apparently her mother wasn't surprised because Lucy
didn't elaborate on which friend. How often did she stay out all night anyway? And
why didn't her mother lecture her? If it was his daughter, no matter how old
she was, he'd make sure he knew exactly where she was at all times.

He put down the crossword he was stuck on
and picked up the book she'd left on the coffee table.
Slippery When Wet
.
He smiled at the title then flipped open the book and read a few paragraphs. Holy
crap! What the hell was she reading? He checked the cover again, then the back
cover. It was erotica. Apprently Lucy even
read
about sex.

He put the book down and slumped into the
soft couch. But he couldn't stop staring at the cover now that he knew its
contents. A naked woman lay on her stomach on hot pink satin sheets. She looked
back over her shoulder at the camera, a smile on her lips. The look in her eyes
taunted Nick, teased him to open the pages. Maybe he would. It was definitely
more interesting than his crossword. The soft rhythm of Lucy's voice and the
tinkle of her laughter meant she was still on the phone. He picked the book up
again and opened it at page one. He would read just a few pages, until she came
back.

But her conversation was long and the
book was too good to put down. The man, Kyle, had learned his new co-worker,
Wanda, was into voyeurism. Kyle kind of liked the idea so he invited her over
to watch him and his girlfriend having sex. (The girlfriend apparently liked
the idea too.) By the middle of chapter two, Wanda sat in the corner of his
bedroom, camera in hand and took photos of Kyle's girlfriend as she rode him. But
Wanda wanted more. Naked except for her black thong and high heels—Nick liked
that bit—she put down the camera and approached the bed. At first, Kyle got
nervous with the extra person but his arousal soon took over with a vengeance. Nick
sympathized. That's exactly how Lucy made him feel—nervous but turned on at the
same time.

Kyle's girlfriend moved over for Wanda
whose lush, full breasts trembled with desire. His girlfriend, getting into the
scenario, licked each one. Wanda moaned then touched the other woman's thighs. Her
fingers came away wet. Suddenly, Kyle had become the watcher, as the two women
made love to each other on his bed in very graphic detail. His rock-hard
erection eventually got attended to. Nick wasn't so lucky.

"Do you like it?"

He jumped off the couch and dropped the
book. Lucy stood in the doorway, a broad smile splitting her face. Oh hell. Did
she know his erection was as big as Kyle's had been? He didn't dare look down.

"Well?" she prompted, stepping
closer.

He bent to pick up the book to hide his
reddening face. "I didn't get far."

"Oh, pity. It gets really good. In
chapter eight, he and Wanda try BDSM."

"With leather and whips and
stuff?" He frowned. It sounded sick. On the other hand...

She laughed. "It's not that bad. The
whips are made of silk and the leather's soft. No one gets hurt."

He cleared his throat. Was she speaking
from experience? "So you like reading these books?" He put the book
on the coffee table.

She shrugged. "Sometimes. When I'm
in the mood. Right now, though, I think I prefer something a little less...hot.
Reading about sex when you're not getting any isn't a lot of fun."

Didn't he know it. He'd only read a few
pages but picturing Lucy's face and body in place of Wanda's, it was enough to
make his raging erection beg for relief.

She
did
want him, after all. She'd
made it clear since they met. And he wanted her. Yeah, he could admit it now. Why
should he deny it? She was sexy, hot and willing. If she didn't care who she
slept with then why should it bother him? He took a step closer.

She looked amazing. Sunlight danced on
her hair, casting a golden halo around her. But with that wicked grin, she was
no angel. She was a devilish beauty. A lithe, ripe, delicious woman with curves
exactly where they should be and tight muscle everywhere else.

He swallowed. He knew there was a reason
why he shouldn't have sex with her, but right now he couldn't remember it. Which
meant it wasn't important. Certainly not more important than the fire in his
groin.

Lucy knew the moment she had him. His
eyes glazed over, his chest rose and fell to a fast rhythm and his lips parted
invitingly. And all it took was an erotica novel. If she'd known it would be
that easy she'd have read him a passage last night. She stepped closer again,
admiring the rose flush beneath his tan and the tent in his jeans. Her heart
raced at the thought of touching it.

Suddenly she couldn't wait to touch him. She
wanted to see as much of his skin as possible, feel his heat, soak up his scent
and taste his desire. She moved towards him as he moved towards her, her body
humming in pleasure. She reached out and touched the band of his jeans. He
balked, as if his sub-conscience tried to make itself heard.

But before his second thoughts took over,
she stood on her toes and kissed him. Not gently. She couldn't do gentle in her
aroused state. His soft lips caressed hers and his silky tongue explored,
sucked, licked. His arms enveloped her, pulling her into his chest and lifting
her off her feet. She felt like she was on a cushion of air, floating.

Someone moaned, someone else responded. The
temperature in the room definitely rose because Lucy felt hot. Too hot. She needed
to shed some clothes. So did he. She unbuttoned his shirt to the waist and
slipped both hands inside. She loved the undulating ridges of muscle twitching
as she touched his smooth, warm skin. He sucked in a breath against her lips as
she ran her nails lightly down his chest. She toyed with the tiny black hairs,
circled his nipples then lowered her mouth to suck one. Then the other.