Temptress (7 page)

Not so far. And she was in no shape to try again.

I dialed Ruin. I should’ve called hours ago, but everyone had been wasted when Jenny dragged Steel and me out of the club.

“Tank?” Ruin answered on the first ring.

“Where are you guys?”

“Where are we?” I could hear the rest of them clamoring in the background. Definitely still drunk. “We’re at the hotel, planning a rescue for your ass. Where the hell are you and Steel?”

“Cancel the rescue.” I could walk out now, but I wasn’t leaving without my powers. “I’m safe. Steel got arrested, but he’ll get off. The charge is bogus.”

“Shit. That hot chick was a cop? How’d she take you down?”

“Turn on your TV.” I did the same. Every news station was plastered with eyewitness videos and testimonies. Almost ten different superpowers were shown in the clips. Most of the coverage ignored the criminals Jenny had been chasing and focused on the hell portal she’d opened. That energy was distinctive. Demonik had looked exactly the same, with silver lightning crackling around him as he threatened to open a permanent gateway to Hell in Midtown Manhattan. Then he’d disappeared. The fact that Jenny had kissed him made me as irrationally pissed as the fact she had to have taken him down alone.

CNN’s headline read: Temptress: Hero or Villain?

 
“Temptress…” Ruin’s voice trailed. Even the guys in the background quieted. “Why are you fighting with her instead of sticking with Steel?”

I flipped to MSNBC. They’d juxtaposed our photos and a noted super expert was speculating on our relationship. Allies? Enemies? Romance? I turned it off. The world could wonder, but I couldn’t have my team doubting me. They needed the truth.

“She has my power.”

Silence buzzed through the line. “Say it again?”

I closed my eyes and dug fingers into one of the throw pillows. “Her power is stealing other supers’ powers. She got mine after we fought, and I have to stick around until she gives them back.” I didn’t mention that she’d already tried and failed. They’d go ballistic if they thought it was permanent. So would I, if we got down to it. I had to believe I’d get them back.

“Dude. We’re coming to get you. That bitch has to pay.”

“No.” My voice came out firmer than expected. “She’s not…so bad.” Just a self-destructive madwoman who’d have the whole team rolling on the ground and begging for her attention. No way could they play with her and win. I had every reason to be mad, and she was still stringing me around. Hell, I was tending her wounds and thinking about her lips instead of ways to fix this.

“So you’re staying with her?” Suspicion dripped through Ruin’s voice.

“For now. Keep up the bachelor weekend thing so the press knows you guys aren’t involved.” If our crew looked vulnerable, every villain with a grudge would jump on the opportunity for revenge.

“Are you two hooking up?”

“I’ll call tomorrow.” I hung up before Ruin could counter. I didn’t have an answer.

Were we?

I could still picture her as she stood from the bath. Still feel the pressure of her thighs against mine when she straddled me in the limo. I would have let her keep going if her memories hadn’t come back. Couldn’t help it.

She was dangerous. A danger to herself and to me. To the whole team. Logic said I should run, but it wasn’t an option. The apartment was deadly still without the chaos of facts and figures, but I imagined I could hear Jenny’s pained, unconscious breaths. I couldn’t go, and I couldn’t leave her alone.

The pain was worse than I’d expected it would be when I passed out in Tank’s solid embrace. My eyes wouldn’t open, my arms felt like they’d gone a few rounds with a microplane zester, and the rest of me ached with general malaise that set in after opening a hell dimension.

Eyes first. I lifted an aching arm, and my fingertips met cool terrycloth. I pulled the damp towel away. My room’s sun-blocking drapes were drawn, but that little light stung. And something else was wrong.

Something sizzled and smelled like…

Bacon?

Short of a Bloomingdales tag sale, I couldn’t think of many other reasons to get out of bed. Had Tank ordered breakfast?

I set the damp cloth on the nightstand. That had to be him too. I felt a little uncomfortable that Tank had been caring for me in my sleep, but at least I was still wearing the same dress. And fuzzy socks. Those were a nice touch.

In the time it took me to get to the closet, I could’ve eaten a whole pig. There was definitely bacon. And something vanilla. I dared to hope for pancakes as I eased out of the dress. The bandages kept me from having to look at my arms, and, guessing by the nausea that sparked when the cloth rasped against them, I was glad I didn’t have to see. I slipped into a men’s XXL T-shirt. Most of the wrestlers of WWE had autographed it after I settled some trouble at their event, but I’d never been much of a wrestling fan. The shirt hung to my knees, and its loose sleeves managed not to make me scream.

I padded into the kitchen. My jaw dropped.

Tank stood over the stove in a muscle-hugging T-shirt and an honest to God apron. He deftly scrambled eggs with one hand while flipping bacon with the other. A stack of steaming blueberry waffles sat next to a jug of fresh-squeezed orange juice on the breakfast bar.

Where did he get a waffle iron? Where did he get
food
? And why hadn’t he just called room service?

“Afternoon. You okay?” Tank forked bacon and eggs onto a plate.

Afternoon? “Oh God. You’re a morning person.”

“You hungry?” Tank slid the plate across the table. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be up for food or not. You took a hell of a beating.”

“Starving.” I plopped onto a stool. Bacon-y goodness wafted. We still weren’t friends, but the man had cooked me breakfast and I should probably stop acting like a total bitch. “Thanks. For getting me home and the bandages. You didn’t have to.”

“You were out for two days,” Tank said.

“Two—what’ve you been—” The bacon dropped from my fingers.

“I’ve been helping you clean up. They’re holding the two guys you roughed up at the station until you can read their minds. They won’t talk. No leads on the ones that got away.”

He cooked, answered phones and did police work. Did he do laundry too? “Glad you’ve kept yourself occupied.”

“It’s this or go insane,” Tank said. “And I’m not threatening, but if my guys figure out where you live, they won’t knock first. They’re not taking this well.”

“Guess they wouldn’t.” I took a bite of the eggs and closed my eyes in momentary rapture. Damn him for softening me up with a buffet. How could I be mad when there were blueberry waffles?

“You get any inspiration how to fix this?” Tank leaned on the buffet. With his apron and coffee cup, he looked impossibly domestic, but no less the hero he was. A kind of contained desperation clung to him, and his dark eyes were hard with determination. Two days alone without powers must’ve driven him half mad.

“C’mere.” I swiveled as Tank closed in. There was only one way to exchange powers. We had to kiss, but as my heart sped, I had to admit I wanted to try a few experiments. This dark, driven Tank pulled all of my strings.

He moved flush to the stool, pressing my knees apart as he leaned his arms against the bar on either side of me. It was like being cocooned in superhero. Between his cologne and the force of his personality, my head spun. A twinge of apprehension mixed in with the exhilaration. I didn’t know Tank well, and he was a big guy. I forced myself to meet his eyes.

Tiny flecks of gold peeked from his dark chocolate gaze. I could practically see his soul. Tank was as strong and as good a guy as they made, and he’d sacrificed everything to carry the burden of a hero. Then I showed up and took it away with one kiss.

He was pissed. But…

Torn. As he drew closer, contagious heat leaked from his gaze. Tank wanted to play as much as I did.

I met his lips. He was soft and gentle, stroking my neck without jarring my arms. I couldn’t help but melt into him.

Gentle was new. So was breakfast. No guy had ever cooked for me. Ever.

“Anything?” Tank pulled back.

“Ah…” Shit. A flash of embarrassment warmed my cheeks. I hadn’t even tried to fix his powers. “One more time.” I pulled his energy from the depths of my soul and managed to keep hold of it as he bent for a second kiss.

—can’t keep doing this. She—

Tank’s thoughts flashed into my head, but the power wouldn’t go back. Was it me? His breath, his scent, lulled me and I slipped deeper into his consciousness.

—can’t fall for her. Damn it. Neither of us want—

What? I bit his lower lip.

I’d force the power back. There wouldn’t be any falling happening. As I pushed, fresh pain stabbed my temples. I jerked away.

“Shit.” Tank pulled back and strode to the other side of the breakfast bar. He leaned over, elbows on the counter as his knuckles whitened against his scalp.

“We have to keep trying.” My voice came out breathy. And he was supposed to be torn? I wanted him hard, but I didn’t want him in my life. He was a hero. I scraped by on the edges of his world. We weren’t so much oil and vinegar as a lit match and napalm. If we kept getting closer, buildings would go down. Hell, whole city blocks.

“We have to keep trying,” Tank agreed. “But we can’t confuse this for—”

“Whoa.” I held up my hands. “Aren’t you supposed to be the guy?” I was kidding, but his words had sparked an annoying twinge of disappointment. I didn’t want to want him, but I wanted him to want me?

Yup. Torn like jeans in an ’80s music video.

I grabbed a slice of bacon and hopped from the stool. “I’ll shower and hit the station. You want to come with?”

“You’re up for it?” Tank asked.

“Nope.” My body throbbed, and I suspected a tiny woodpecker was nesting in my temples, but I needed out of the apartment, and we needed supervision. “But I’ll take some horse pills and rough it out.” I’d be bedridden if I lived my life waiting to be one hundred percent.

Though bedridden wouldn’t be so bad if Tank were there too…

I jerked. Bad Jenny.

A few choice mental images wouldn’t shake away. I headed to the shower and slammed the water on cold.

Chapter Seven

I sighed. I’d done a lot of that the past two days. Jenny was a fire I couldn’t stay away from. I had to keep poking, adding more logs…

I needed the burn unit on speed dial.

She’d looked better than I expected at breakfast. Almost well. If not for a few unconscious winces, she might’ve fooled me.

And that fucking T-shirt. No pants. No shorts. Just a pair of bare pink knees I wanted wrapped around my hips. I could only pray she’d been wearing panties. Except then I’d be thinking about her panties.

I couldn’t decide if she was trying to seduce me or if her personal danger threshold was that low. Maybe I just wasn’t a threat. I suspected the latter.

She’d barely touched her food and she was going to down a fistful of pills. She’d probably chase them with the flask of vodka she kept under her pillow. Her life was a slow-motion train wreck, and I couldn’t back away. All I could do was worry.

I tossed my apron over a stool. When did I become the mother hen?

The guys couldn’t find out about this. Ever. Ruin was frothing for Jenny’s blood and the others weren’t far behind him. Only the fact that they thought we were hooking up had kept them from storming the apartment.

But they hadn’t found it yet. Neither had the paparazzi, though Temptress coverage had eclipsed Afghanistan and the presidential election. People should’ve been knocking down her door, and as a secret identity, Jenny Ray was about as effective as the Emperor’s new clothes. Half of Vegas knew who she was, so why hadn’t anyone found her?

It didn’t equal out. Without my powers, all I could do was guess and tear my hair out. Two days of caring for Jenny had taken their toll in ways I didn’t want to explore.

I’d tried to distract myself by keeping tabs on the guys and the situation with Steel. We’d sent our best lawyers, but he hadn’t needed the help. When you gave testimony to Verity, lying wasn’t an option. There’d been no rape, and Steel’s accuser had broken down with a confession and an apology.

Now he was headed back to Vegas, along with official orders that Jenny return his powers. If she could give them back.

Would the two of them have to play make-out session? How many men had she kissed to give and take powers?

Crash
.

The glass in my hand shattered, spraying the sink with orange juice and shards. I tossed the broken pieces and went under the sink for a paper towel.

Damn.

I was jealous. And I already knew Jenny’s kitchen better than she did.

I needed to get away from her.

She breezed out of the bathroom in a sundress and a loose sweater that covered her shredded arms. It was better than the T-shirt, but she still looked impossibly vulnerable as she finger-combed damp hair. She armed herself with perfume and lace when she needed plate mail.