His Wicked Ways

“Maybe I’m not guilty.” He ducked into a small office off to one side of the gym and she saw the track pants he’d been wearing go flying across his desk to land in an empty chair. “Ever thought of that?”

What the hell was he doing? Changing his clothes two feet away on the other side of Sheetrock? He returned a minute later, wearing a pair of jeans. He carried a clean T-shirt in one hand and a leather satchel in the other.

“Actually, no.” She eyed him warily as he dropped the bag to the ground and then reached for the hem of the shirt he had on.

Oh.

In theory, she knew she ought to look away for her own good. In practice, however, her eyes remained glued to the scene as Alec pulled his shirt over his head. Leaving him bare chested and…wow.

“Well, I never touched a nickel that wasn’t mine.” Tossing the old shirt aside, he tugged the clean one on. “And I intend to prove it just as soon as I can compare my personal accounting records to whatever doctored BS files someone is using to incriminate me.”

Tearing her eyes away from the naked torso now imprinted on her memory, Vanessa searched for hidden agendas in his request.

“But I could use that information to build a case against you.”

“Too bad you’re not going to find anything incriminating in there about me because I’m innocent.”

His raised voice called her to look back to his square shoulders and hard pecs. She hadn’t experienced thoughts like this about a man in…well, almost never. She’d never been one of those types to get all sex crazed and foaming at the mouth over a guy, yet here she stood, remembering every inch of Alec Messina’s chest, despite the fact that he might be spending ten to fifteen years behind bars.

“You don’t look all that innocent from where I’m standing.” As soon as she made the remark, she realized she was commenting more on his rock-hard body and powerful arms than his degree of criminal aptitude.

Thankfully, Alec didn’t seem to notice, taking her words at face value.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He ducked back inside his office, continuing to shout to her through the open door as he shuffled through papers and drawers. “But I guarantee if you find something in those files that suggests I’ve stolen money, I’ll offer up both wrists for some of your cop bracelets. Deal?”

He reappeared in the gym with a ring of keys in hand.

“I’d have to be even more crazy than you to go off to some undisclosed location to read your books.” What if he was guilty as hell and desperate to escape a possible prison sentence?

No. She’d been ready to walk away from him earlier, but he’d called her back. A desperate man would have gladly allowed a detective to leave.

“You think it’s crazy to crack a big case? Snag a little interdepartmental spotlight for yourself?” Pocketing the keys, he stalked closer.

Of all the buttons he could have pressed, how did he know to lay on her need to succeed? That competitive streak had been her downfall more than once in her life.

But she was stronger than that now. She just had to remind herself she hadn’t gone into police work for the glory. Hell no. She was here to save people like the sister she’d failed.

The reminder put a lid on her strange attraction to Alec in a hurry.

“I can’t. This is more an FBI matter, anyhow.” Although, the promise of access to McPherson’s accounting files swayed her a bit. Not only did she fight off the need to solve a case, she also battled the hunger to bury herself in the comfort of numbers and financial data, two well-loved commodities she rarely indulged in her mission to make New York a safer place.

“Are you sure, Vanessa?” He took a step closer, his cross-trainers squeaking on the floor. “Because I can promise there will be arrests to be made by the time you figure out what’s going on. And I’m taking off now, whether you come with me or not. So if you want to keep an eye on me…”

Shrugging, he didn’t bother to spell it out. She knew he’d disappear into thin air again if she didn’t stick with him. And what were the chances she’d find him a second time after a stroke of good luck had helped her track him down the first?

Not to mention, she’d have to tell her lieutenant she’d found Alec Messina but had only succeeded in tipping him off…

Screw it. She didn’t have a real choice here anyhow. Her sister always called her the family pit bull because Vanessa couldn’t let something go once she’d had a taste of trouble. Letting Alec walk away now wasn’t even an option.

“Okay, Messina. You want me to take a look at your books? Fine.” Truth be told, she couldn’t wait. “But I can promise you, I’m not going to be sucked in by a bunch of bogus entries if you’ve tried to revise the data. The police department can obtain company records from your partners for comparison.”

“Fair enough.” Retrieving his bag, he looked her in the eye. “I’ve got outside documentation to support most of my transactions anyhow. I’m not asking for special treatment.”

“Except for your own personal detective to solve your criminal problems.” She didn’t intend to cut him any slack just because she’d agreed to look at the accounts. And she sure as hell wouldn’t just wander off with a potentially dangerous man without some consideration to her own safety. Gena’s battle for her life had taught her better. “But before we go anywhere, I think a few basic precautions are in order.”

Like no more simmering looks. And definitely no more touching. She didn’t like the idea of him knowing how much he fired her up.

But she didn’t plan on sharing those particular safety measures with him.

“You want to take separate cars and meet up somewhere?” His agreeable tone suggested he’d already thought of this.

And while Vanessa appreciated his idea of caution, that’s not what she had in mind. For that matter, maybe she’d be better off not letting Alec Messina out of her sight. A man this eager to stay hidden wouldn’t resurface again for a long time.

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of making sure you didn’t stash any weapons on your person when you disappeared into your office.” She hadn’t been able to keep her eye on him the whole time, and that worried her.

He stared at her for a long moment before the barest trace of a smile kicked up one side of his mouth. A full, sensual mouth with as much character as every other inch of his face.

Had she really thought she could keep a lock on the simmering looks they exchanged? A little more proof she was clueless when it came to men. And sex.

“Are you saying you’d like to frisk me?” His low words carried a hint of suggestiveness, as if he were proposing a romp in the sheets instead of a preventive measure.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m a professional at this.” At least she always had been in the past. The thought of frisking Alec and that way-too-masculine body of his suddenly made her hands itchy for a thorough feel. Not exactly the thoughts of a detached expert.

Amazing, considering she hadn’t itched to touch a man for four long years.

“I’m sure you have a very skilled touch.” He bent to set his bag on the ground at his feet, oblique muscles tensing against the fabric of his T-shirt as he moved. “By all means, Vanessa. Feel away.”

His open invitation caught her off guard, rattling her when it should have relieved her. But the procedure that had seemed so clinical a few moments ago now took on whole new shades of meaning.

Clearing her throat, she sought for some of the distance that had come so naturally to her for the past five years.

“I prefer to think of it as a search rather than a feel.” Her words sounded just a little bit breathless to her own ears, a stranger’s voice in her head.

His dark eyes, an even deeper brown than her own, fixed on her with searing intensity. “Call it whatever you like, but we need to get it over with before anyone else gets wind of me being here.”

The step he took toward her touched a match to the last shreds of her cool reserve. Heat swamped her, confused her, blurred her pit-bull instincts. She didn’t stand a chance in hell of touching him with dispassionate hands, but how could she back down now after proposing the idea herself?

To do so would show him a weakness she could barely admit to herself, let alone a stranger. And damn it, she wouldn’t bury her head in the sand and pretend that just because she felt some sort of bizarre attraction to Alec didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt her. She was a good cop because she knew better.

Swallowing the lump of uncertainty in her throat, she snapped at him. “Well turn around, for crying out loud.” She made a spinning gesture with her finger. “I can’t very well frisk you when you’re glaring at me like that.”

Sighing, he pivoted on the heel of his shoe, facing away from her. “Happy now?”

TENSING, ALEC JUST HOPED she didn’t find out exactly how happy he was feeling at the prospect of her hands all over him. Bad enough he had to entrust some small part of his problems to a cop who could easily betray him the moment she clocked into her next shift. Now he had to sport a major hard-on for her, too?

Add it to the list of frustrations of the day, beginning with her getting the drop on him in front of his whole self-defense class.

He was still fuming—both with anger and with raw sex drive—when he remembered she stood behind him fully armed.

“Wait.” Whirling on her, he half expected to see her standing there with her gun cocked at brain level, ready to dish out his uncle’s retribution.

Instead, he caught her completely by surprise. A scant arm’s length away, she had moved closer, her unarmed hands frozen in midair as she reached for him. A whoosh of relief nearly knocked him off his feet, and even as he thanked God for not taking advantage of his momentary mental lapse, he suddenly comprehended the expression on Vanessa’s face.

Blatant sexual awareness. And even more startling— vulnerability.

“What?” Recovering herself, she fisted her fingers at her side. “You move on me that fast again, Messina, and you’ll be staring down the wrong end of a barrel.”

He could hardly get his brain around the fact that Vanessa had been unsure of herself for even a moment. Is that why she’d hesitated when it came time to frisk him? The heat between them?

“Actually, that’s what precipitated the hasty move. When you didn’t touch me right away, I wondered if you were going for a weapon.”

She let out a pent-up breath, the minty exhalation reminding him how close they were standing. “You’ve been hanging around the wrong people for too long if you think I’d pull a gun on a man who’d willingly put his back to me.”

Indignation laced her words. But she didn’t step away.

“I still wondered if you might be working for my uncle.” He knew she couldn’t be. Not now. Not after that moment of naked emotion he’d seen scrawled across her face. “He’s got plenty of cops on the take.”

Their panting breaths mingled, the mixture of suspicions and fears they’d been dancing around all evening coming to a head.

“Not this one.” She met his gaze with boldness, the truth of her words—even her own pride in them—perfectly evident.

“I was going to ask you to put the gun aside while you frisked me.” He nudged his way deeper into her personal space, closing the distance between them to just a few inches.

“Still don’t trust me?” Her throaty purr wrapped around him like sex in stereo, an auditory act of foreplay.

“Actually, I do. But now that I’m toying with the idea of touching you, I think maybe you’d feel more at ease if I didn’t have access to your firearm, either.” When he put his hands on her again, he didn’t want her to worry he was making a play for the piece. And how warped was that for a concern of intimacy? What happened to the old days when a first kiss meant you might knock braces? Now you needed to be sure all parties put their ammo aside.

“That’s okay.” Nose to nose, she gave him a smile of mocking indulgence. “We already know I can kick your ass if I need to, sport. With or without the gun.”

That took the damn cake.

He reached a hand up to her neck and curled his fingers under the collar of her jacket. “If you think you can wound my ego while you’re breathing so heavy I can hear it, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“And if you think you can wound any other part of me by getting into my pants, you’re going to walk away very disappointed.” She parted her lips just enough to flash him a hint of bared teeth. “I’m unbreakable as far as you’re concerned.”

He wondered if she’d ever lost control in bed and sank those perfect white teeth of hers into some unsuspecting man’s shoulder.

“I’ll consider myself warned.” Not that it would stop him from touching her more. Not now. “For the record, I don’t give a damn if you’re unbreakable. I just want to see you unravel.”

Her skin burned against his palm, her lips glistening with damp heat. He would get her out of here, away from his compromised hideout, just as soon as he claimed one small taste of her.

Diving down those last few inches, he sealed his mouth to hers. Locked her torso against his with both arms until the scent of soft roses and sexy-as-hell woman drifted up from her skin. The mint flavor of her lips did little to cool the simmering of blood through his veins.

A sudden need to feel every inch of her pressed close consumed him, sending his hands on a roving quest up and down her body to draw her nearer. He nudged her shoulder blade with his palm and felt her breasts flatten against his ribs. He dipped down into the notch of her waist and found her abs tightening along his groin. Her body responded easily, her limbs toned and taut beneath the linen jacket he flicked off her shoulders.

Her muffled cry echoed through the rafters and reverberated in his ears. She arched fully against him, extending up on her toes to align their bodies more evenly. Skimming herself up his rigid erection with mouthwatering effect.

He moved his hands lower, savoring the feel of her, but she dodged his touch before he could reach her lower spine. He’d ask her about that in a minute—knew damn well she was hiding something. Right now he settled for cupping her sweetly rounded ass with both hands, drawing her up even higher as he plunged his tongue deeper in her mouth. Taking more than just a taste, he plundered all he could, just like the thief she thought him. In this much, at least, she could be right. He’d steal every sighing breath, every moaning cry and every shiver of excitement she couldn’t hide from him now that he had her wrapped in his arms.

Tilting her head to one side, she gave him deeper access, more room to savor the slick wintergreen warmth of her mouth. His lips slid over hers with slow, fascinated strokes until he found a rhythm that made her go utterly slack against him.

Yes.

He took far more pleasure with the upper hand here than he would have on the gym mats earlier. Vanessa Torres might have slammed him to his knees with a kick, but he’d have her melting to hers with a kiss in no time at all. And damn, but that victory tasted sweet.

He speared his fingers into the loosened hair that escaped her braid, testing the silky length of the rebellious strands. Anchoring her to him by cupping the back of her head, Alec took pleasure in the sure movement of her fingers up and down his spine. His sides. His hips.

He’d never met a woman so certain of herself and ready to claim what she wanted. When her fingers strayed below the belt line, his satisfaction increased tenfold.

That is, until she reached even lower. And lower.

What the hell?

Thrusting her away, he gripped her shoulders with both hands, his anger back with a vengeance.

“If you’re trying to frisk me now, woman, let me spare you the trouble.” Yanking her wrist forward, he steered her palm to rest on the only weapon he carried. “Thanks to you, I’m damn well armed.”

4

OVER FOUR YEARS had passed since the last time Vanessa had cradled a man’s erection in her palm. Four long years without sex of any kind.

And yet, she could hardly appreciate the solid strength of him straining beneath her palm. Not when his dark eyes captured her attention so thoroughly.

Anger lurked there. Deep, dark and dangerous, the shades of cold fury in his brown eyes compelled her stare. Her curiosity. What gave a man such a fierce aspect, especially when he had been kissing her with enough heat to melt a normal woman’s insides just a few moments ago?

Clearing her throat, Vanessa shifted her grip on the front of his jeans—and realized his hand no longer imprisoned hers there. How long had she been touching him of her own free will?

Yanking her hand back, she commanded her breathing back to normal. Slow and steady.

“That’s quite a piece you’re carrying.” Cool and easy. She couldn’t let him rile her any more than he already had.

“Yeah? You just let me know if you’d like a closer look and I’ll be sure to accommodate you.” Bending, he scooped up his bag and reached for her hand. “Right now, we need to get the hell out of here before somebody finds us.”

Or before Vanessa jumped this guy’s bones—regardless of where he stood in terms of the law.

“Do you have a car nearby?” She moved to follow him, Converse squeaking on the gymnasium floor. Night had fallen while they’d talked, and already she felt squeamish about heading out onto the streets in this part of town.

“Private underground parking.” He led her through a darkened front lobby and down a back corridor full of paint cans and spattered scaffolding. “One of the perks of revamping the place myself.”

Arriving at an elevator bay, he opened the doors and inserted a pass card in the panel to access a basement level. Vanessa held her breath as the electronic doors swished shut behind them, sealing them in the private, close quarters. She didn’t need to catch the male scent of him, her senses already too attuned to his movements, his body.

“You think the rec center is going to make a difference around here?” Determined not to think about the fact she’d just recently had her hand on this guy’s crotch, she concentrated on how they were going to get out of the Bronx.

She’d seen so many fights on these streets from the safety of her bedroom window growing up. Her grandmother had raised both Vanessa and her sister since their teenage mom had been more interested in getting high than taking care of her kids. Which was just fine with Vanessa since Nana was the coolest lady in their housing complex, with a good job at the local dry cleaners and a knack with tools that made all the tenants vie for Nana’s help with repairs the superintendent ignored.

But even Nana, a major kick-ass grandma, had taken every precaution never to send her girls out of the house alone. The South Bronx—especially in those days before urban renewal—was a damn scary place to live.

“Why would I waste my time building this place if I didn’t think it was going to help?” Alec shrugged, palms up. “You think I’m an idiot? I know what it’s like here. But if the center gives five kids a safe place to hang out and grow up, I think that’s making a pretty damn big difference.”

She hadn’t expected that kind of clear-eyed thinking from someone who must have dumped a small fortune into a facility that would be covered with graffiti and crawling with homeless people in less than six months.

The elevator chimed as it reached the basement, the doors sliding open to the dank, stale air of an underground garage. A small fluorescent light blinked on a cement pillar between the only two cars in the small area. Two other spaces remained vacant.

“A Mercedes and a Ford Focus.” Vanessa eyed the two vehicles, the S600 sedan shouting money and the Ford quietly announcing practicality. “My guess is an uptown guy like yourself needs the Mercedes.”

“They’re both mine.” He pressed a button on his key ring and unlocked the doors on the big sedan. “You want me to give you a lift somewhere? If you drove up here, you don’t want to stay parked on the streets overnight.”

Her heart drummed in her chest at his choice of wording. They might be working into the night, but she definitely didn’t need to categorize her time with him as an “overnight.” No sense giving her long-slumbering libido any false hope since she planned to squash it with all due haste.

“I took the subway.” She hadn’t wanted to drive out here today since the locals had a knack for picking out police automobiles, even the unmarked vehicles. She’d planned on calling a patrol car to pick up Alec if she’d been able to talk him into coming in for questioning.

It might not be wise to go anywhere with him, but seeing him with those kids tonight—trying to make a difference in their lives—had squeezed something unexpected inside her. She and her sister would have given anything to have had someone besides Nana root for them, teach them how to protect themselves, just spend time with them.

“So you’re okay with getting in the car with me?” He opened the passenger-side door for her, clearly shocked she would venture into his private terrain.

Damn it, she hadn’t broken with police procedure once in five years. She could afford to take a chance tonight as long as she was armed. Ready.

“Let me put it this way—you’re driving. I have a gun.” She edged past him, eager to retrieve some of her usual calm. “I think I’ll manage.”

Her body registered the heat of Alec’s as she brushed past him, the spike in her temperature becoming more predictable the longer she spent time around him. She couldn’t even think about the kiss they’d shared without her brain short-circuiting. At this point, she was more concerned with maintaining reasonable, professional distance from him than protecting herself from possible violence at his hands.

After all, she knew exactly what kind of heat he was packing, and it wouldn’t kill her. It might drive her insane with pleasure, but clearly, she’d survive.

Then again, it might leave her as cold inside as she’d been for the past five years since her sister’s body hit the pavement in a drive-by, and that scared her almost as much as the thought of finding pleasure in Alec’s bed.

She didn’t realize Alec had knelt down beside the passenger seat, his tall body doubled up so he could look at her on eye level, until he leaned almost into her line of vision.

“You sure you’re okay?” He’d gotten close to her again. Breast-tingling close. Mouthwatering close.

And oh God, she’d messed up big time by coming to the Bronx without her partner, a rational voice of reason, at her side. She was getting sucked into old fears, old guilt and major sexual hang-ups she’d never been able to face. This wiseguy on the lam with an overdose of testosterone seemed to be shaking it all to the surface for her.

“I’m fine.” She glared at him with the bitch-look she saved for criminals she needed to intimidate. “Can we get out of here now, please?”

The open expression in his eyes shuttered as he retreated, assuring her he hadn’t missed her point. For a moment, she regretted her attitude, regretted the need to lash out at anyone who got too close. Still, keeping men at arm’s length seemed a hell of a lot kinder in the long run than letting a guy think he was making progress with her, only to find out she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm in bed.

Alec slid into the car and started the engine without a word while Vanessa readjusted her gun at her waist. As he pulled the car out of his subterranean lair and into the night, she realized the windows were tinted so black no one could see inside the vehicle. Illegally black, in fact, but she’d be willing to bet there were plenty of other cars roaming these streets with the same kind of windows. Eyewitnesses said the car carrying whoever shot Gena had blackened windows. The shooter had never been found.

The morose turn of her thoughts called her to remember Gena had lived. After a week of fighting for her life, she had turned a corner. Of course, it had taken months of grueling physical therapy to retrain her legs how to walk, her thigh and hip sustaining grave damage. She’d never walk without a limp, but the rest of her had recovered faster than Vanessa, who still found ways to blame herself for what had happened and still sought out cars with tinted windows.