First Temptation (5 page)

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Authors: Joan Swan

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Romantic suspense fiction

BOOK: First Temptation
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“We’re a members-only—” Victor started.

“But for you, señorita,” Cesar cut in, “I’m sure we can make an exception.” He held up the box with a nod to both Brooks and Taft. “Until then, welcome to the neighborhood.”

Brooks followed the men to the door, locked it behind them, and waved through the window. Taft also followed. He switched off the front lights so only one shone toward the back of the store. Brooks jumped and gasped as she turned.

He slid one arm around her waist, the hand with the vibrators still attached and shivering, beneath her hair and against her neck, and held her gaze. “What just happened?”

Zoe had her hands pushed against his chest again, holding him away. “What? What do you mean?”

“First of all, you’ve got to get out of the habit of pushing me away. Second of all, you’ve got to know they’re still out there watching us…probably hoping I’m going to do you right here, right now.”

Brooks tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths. “Oh Christ.”

He tightened the arm across her lower back, fitting his erection into the supple muscle of her lower belly, and tilted his head to taste her throat.

“Hoping they can watch,” he murmured, closing his teeth around her soft skin. “And pretend they’re me. “ He loved the way her fingers curled into the shoulders of his shirt. “Pretend they’re getting to do you. If you want them to spread the word to Picasso when he comes around, let go of your resistance, beautiful.”

He turned, lifted her by the waist, and pressed her back to the wall. She automatically spread her legs, wrapping them at his hips and Taft sank toward her until she was compressed between the wall and his body.

“God, you feel good,” he murmured against her lips. “You almost make me forget I want to know why you wigged halfway through that little scheme.”

“I didn’t wig.” Her hands pressed to his shoulders as if she were considering pushing him away, but her thighs gripped his hips tight, her feet pressed hard at the small of his back, pulling him in. “I thought I handled it really well.”

“Handled
what
?”

He lifted the hand fitted with vibrators to the hem of her blouse and slipped it underneath, touching her waist. She jumped, her hips pumping against his, her breasts brushing his chest. Lust spurted through his groin and whited out his brain. He groaned, gripped her ass with his free hand, and rubbed against her for counter pressure to the sudden surge of need.

“Whoa, baby. You just blew a few circuits.”

He slid his fingers across the skin of her belly, and she rocked her hips against his on a soft breath.

“Brooks…” he warned. “Do that again and your pants are coming off.”

“Then stop touching me,” she said. “I’m not a robot, Walker. And I’d have to be made of titanium not to want you.”

His heart thumped hard. He pulled back and looked down into her dazed eyes, sparkling in the dark. Remembered the feel of her mouth on his. He gripped her thighs and lifted them higher, pushed them wider, and leaned into her harder. And he moved, simulating what he’d like to do inside her.

Her lips parted on an intake of air; her eyes rolled back and her lids fell closed as she arched against the wall with a sound that punched blood between his legs.

He pressed soft kisses to her lips, whispered, “Want to do something about it, Brooks?”

“Of…course. I’m…human. But I also have impulse control. And I…don’t
do
the guys I work with.”

He took a second to run that through his mind a few times, then pulled back and looked her in the eye. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.”

Nope. Still wasn’t penetrating his brain matter. “Like…
ever
?”

“Like…
ever
.”

Her answer was so final. So logical. She couldn’t be any clearer. He couldn’t continue to question it.

“Shit, I didn’t see that one coming.” He pulled her away from the wall and carried her toward the back. “Then let’s get off stage so I can put air between us.”

At the back of the store in the storage room, Taft lowered her to her feet, closed the door, and turned on the light. Brooks already had her hand over her eyes in preparation.

Taft turned away, adjusted his erection, and wiped a hand over his face. He tried to force his mind back to the case. To Cantos and Vasquez. To the bills at home he had to pay. Anything to steer his body away from the need to get between those long legs.

She didn’t do the guys she worked with.

He got that. Totally. Once those guys at Border Patrol got a look at the woman beneath her uniform, the only smuggling they’d have been interested in would have involved their peckers.

“What happened midway through that little impromptu meeting, Brooks?” he asked.

“I realized who Cesar was.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically weak, making Taft turn. She had her forehead between her fingers, and her rubbing had removed some of the makeup hiding the scrapes there.

“What do you mean?” Taft asked. “Rio gave you the same file he gave me at breakfast—”

“I slept today, okay?” She threw her arm out to the side and opened her eyes, their green irises stabbing at him. “This morning when I saw you, I hadn’t been to sleep in nearly thirty hours. I should have looked at the file, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. So when I invited him into the store, I didn’t realize he was
that
Cesar. I mean, I knew a guy named Cesar worked at the store, and I know the name of the target, Ernesto. But I didn’t know it was Cesar
Cantos
. I was just getting close, making friends, hoping to…I don’t know…chat him up.”

Taft was cooling down—at least sexually. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “There’s definitely something else. You’re not the type to freak at the simple meeting of a bad guy.”

She chewed on her lower lip, which, for some annoying reason, made him insane.

“Stop that.” He gestured toward her mouth. When she frowned at him, he snapped, “What else?”

“Taft,” she pleaded, those beautiful eyes big and warm. ”I don’t want to lose this assignment—”

“Whoa.” He stepped back. “Now I’m
Taft
? Don’t think using my first name is going to soften me.”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to talk to you like…a person, for God’s sake.” She rubbed both hands over her face, then looked up again. “Most of the drugs my team and I take are slated for distribution through Cantos. Just last night, we grabbed a group of seven. During processing, we learned the drugs were coming to Cantos. Cocaine. Pure. With a street value of between three and ten million, depending on the cut here.”

He waited. Stared her down. Knew the other shoe was still hanging out there waiting to drop.

“One of the guys I took down last night said something that, at the time, I didn’t think much of but now… It’s a long story, but the part that matters here is when he had me trapped beneath him, the gun right here…” She positioned her left hand near her forehead, her gaze distant in memories. Taft knew all about the intensity and danger of her job. Had worked the border with other agents on operations. Had heard all the stories. But hearing about
her
being involved…
like this
…created an unfamiliar discomfort in his chest.

“On my headset, I heard the chopper guiding my team up behind him. To stall, I asked if he realized what would happen to him if he killed a Border Patrol agent.”

Taft’s chest knotted. His hands fisted. He didn’t understand why he wanted to pound one of them through the nearest wall. She was as tough as any male agent he’d partnered with. Their stories never bothered him. At least not like this.

Had to be her eyes. She was still traumatized. Taft could see it in her eyes.

“And he said—in English—‘If I kill
this
Border Patrol Agent, then we won’t have to worry about
perra blanca
no more.’ Like they’d
named
me.”

Taft realized the significance immediately. “El Diablo has a
hit
out on you?”

“I…I don’t…” She shook her head.

His mind darted back to her uniform that morning. “Do you wear anything to cover your name tag? The paperwork you submit, do you sign it? Do they get a copy of it? Does it give your name as the arresting officer? How did you introduce yourself to Cantos tonight? Fuck, Brooks…”

“Taf—Walker, Relax.” She held her hands out like she was trying to calm down an irrational subject. “Slow down. I’m just…thinking out loud. I’m bouncing thoughts off you. I need you to be able to field them…work with me here.”

Dammit, now
he
was acting like the girl.

Taft wiped a hand over his mouth and focused. Shut down these sudden and bizarre emotions.

“No, Brooks,” he said. “What you’re doing is finally putting everything together. Your subconscious has been processing all this for hours. If you’re going to work in undercover, you need to learn to pay attention to these cues, like you’re doing now, and trust your gut. And my gut’s telling me I’ve got to call Cordova.”

Taft swung around looking for his phone and realized they were in the storeroom.

“Taft, wait—”

He ignored her. He wasn’t in any frame of mind to resist those pleading green eyes. His hand covered the doorknob. Hers pushed between his arms and his body and slapped the wood, holding the door closed.

“Brooks—”

“Taft,
please
, wait.”

She pressed her face into the indention of his spine. The gesture was so… God, he didn’t even know. Sweet? He squeezed the handle tighter and closed his eyes. Then her hot breath penetrated his shirt and spread over his skin. Taft clenched his teeth.

She turned her head and pressed her cheek to his back. “I want to get off the line.” Her voice was steady and serious. She didn’t whine or plead. “I’ve had a transfer in for six months. This is the first chance I’ve had in investigations.”

Anger fired off sparks in his blood. He swiveled and gripped her arms, bent until his face was an inch from hers. “So you want me to let them kill you
here
instead of out
there
? Is that it?”

“No. I—” Her voice came out high, filled with emotion. Hurt flashed in her eyes, raw and bright. Then she yanked herself back with a sharp breath. All the heat and life in her gaze grayed out, and she closed off. It took her a couple of tries to speak, but when she did, she’d found a familiar level and warm voice.

“I don’t plan on dying, Walker. Here or out there.” She pulled out of his grasp with steady pressure. Reached around him and opened the storeroom door. “And I don’t plan on letting you die either. Our safety comes first.”

She passed him and picked up her cell from the counter. Pushing one button, she picked up a pencil, walked to the wall between the two stores, and drew a circle. “Agent Cord—” She paused. “Right, Rio. Sorry to call so late. Could we meet tomorrow? The three of us, before the store opens? Something’s come up that’s concerning Walker. No, we’re getting along fine.” She glanced at him, her gaze flat. Which irked him, because his guts were in turmoil. “No, it can wait. Sure, that’s fine. Good night.”

She slid the phone into her pocket, reached below the counter, and pulled out the smallest purse Taft had ever seen and an armful of books.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “And what is all that?”

“I’m going home, and these are catalogues on the plethora of sexual aids here. I’ll be the second-best-versed aficionado in the county by seven a.m.” She pointed to the circle on the wall. “Put the camera right there.”

When she passed by him, Taft muttered, “Bossy,” just to see if he could get a reaction he could act on. He wanted to touch her again.

But she ignored him and sauntered toward the front door.

“You sure don’t walk like that in your uniform,” he taunted.

“It’s the heels,” she said, with the same cool inflection she’d used that morning when she’d told him to get his own table while she finished her conversation with Rio.

And he realized then what was gnawing at him. She’d confided in him in that storeroom. Told him something that she hadn’t told anyone else. Something that scared her. She’d been vulnerable. Completely open. She’d asked him,
begged
him, for something important to her.

And he’d shut her down. Just like that, he’d blown a perfect opportunity to break through her shell. To get her to bend that I-don’t-do-guys-I-work-with rule.

Because that hadn’t been all she’d been offering.

She’d been offering…friendship. Intimacy.

And he didn’t do either. He just wanted to have sex with her.

“We’re meeting with Rio at the Sunrise Café. You know where that is?”

She pushed the store’s front door open, and Taft followed. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up—”

She stopped short on a gasp, and he collided with her.

“Oh, Cesar,” she breathed. “You scared me. Do you always work this late?”

Taft stepped up next to Brooks and slid his arm around her waist.


Si,
senorita. I’m a night owl.”

“Me too.”

Cesar stood at a planter nearby, one foot up on the ledge, a half-smoked cigarette in his hand. “Are you lovebirds headed out? You left the light on. Electricity is expensive, amigos.”

Brooks gestured with her catalogues. “I’m headed home to study.” She leaned back and into Taft. Smiled over her shoulder at him. “And warm up the bed.”

That idea appealed way too much. Her rule was looking like it would hold fortuitous benefits for Taft.

“I’m walking her to the car,” Taft said. “I’ll be back to lock up.”


Si,
amigo.” Cantos blew out smoke, and it floated on the cool night air, obscuring the man’s dark face. “A good woman is worth protecting.”

Taft didn’t know whether to take that as a veiled threat or not, but he wouldn’t wait until it was too late to find out.

 

 

 

Six

ZOE TOOK THE PATH FROM HER TOWNHOUSE toward Walker’s truck where he’d parked at the curb. The silver four-wheel-drive Ford F-150 crew cab was classically kept. Sleek. Masculine without screaming,
I have a dick and I like to use it
. Walker was a confident man. Though Brooks already knew that.

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