Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1) (15 page)

A snapshot of him running his soapy hands over my body forms in my mind and I blush. He leans in and touches his lips to mine. Short and sweet. He pulls away and I want more. He sits back and appraises me while I notice that his eyes have changed subtly. They’re darker and if possible, sexier.

“My hair is dirty,” I lie. “I need to wash it.” So stupid. I just can’t tell him that the
dirt
is in my soul.

Moon gives me an exasperated look. He doesn’t believe me, and I’m surprised when he allows my lie to pass. “Tomorrow, we’ll wash your hair. Carlo said you were to keep the sutures dry. We can most likely use the sink and not give him a reason to yell at me.”

I so badly want him to smile. It’s as if his smiles change me physically. After two knocks on the door, Moon stands and walks toward it. Before he reaches it, Gomez enters followed by an older woman. Her slightly stooped shoulders, gray hair, and small frame make her appear frail. Then I see her eyes. They’re dark, practically black. I can tell that she dislikes that I’m here. It’s more than evident by the angry look she throws me. She’s carrying a food tray and makes an unpleasant noise in her throat when Gomez walks over and kisses my cheek. He straightens and rolls his eyes at the woman’s obvious distress. I’m so surprised that he kissed me with Moon standing so close that I’m speechless. Gomez smiles and heat rises in my cheeks. He’s wearing a white dress shirt minus his suit jacket. A shoulder holster is strapped on his chest, which is something you don’t often see in Arizona. The only time I’ve seen one is when two detectives visited from back east. In the West, we carry our guns on our hips. It’s like the law.

Gomez gives me a sexy, killer smile when he sees my appraisal. The heat in my face goes up several degrees. The woman says something in Spanish, and Gomez turns and takes the tray from her. She removes a pitcher of water and what turns out to be my pills. She carries them toward the bed and rests them on the nightstand. She fills my nighttime glass with water, but she doesn’t hand these things to me. She gives them to Moon. She’s closer to me now and examines my face. I’m at a loss when she makes the sign of the cross on her chest while speaking rapid Spanish to Moon. He responds, and she shakes her head and crosses herself again. She throws up her hands, says something angrily, and then leaves the room.

Moon’s lips quirk and I almost get a smile. “Gabriella wants you to take your medicine, eat all your food, and rest so you can leave as soon as possible.”

“That bad?”

“She thinks you look like a raccoon. For Gabriella, that’s a compliment.”

I look toward Gomez, who is still holding the tray. His lips are compressed so he doesn’t laugh.

“I give raccoons a bad name, and she shouldn’t be insulting them,” I growl softly.

Gomez laughs outright and carries the tray closer.

Moon hands me the pills and water, which I swallow without argument. I’ve been through recuperation on my shoulder and learned to stay on top of the pain. Like most good lessons, I learned the hard way.

Moon removes an orange stoneware bowl from the tray. Whatever it is, it smells heavenly.

“Soup,” he informs me. “And crackers,” he adds.

I take a long draw from the water, emptying the glass. He hands me the bowl and then takes the entire tray from Gomez. He gives his friend a look that I can’t decipher.

“Thank you, Alex. I’ll be down when Madison finishes her lunch.”

Gomez nods and leaves the room without looking at me again.

“Eat,” Moon commands.

“Yes, sir,” I clip back. This gains me not so much as a semi-grin. He’s so intense right now.

He places the tray next to my hip and picks up a cracker, nibbling it while I dig into the soup. “It’s good,” I say between bites. Nope, I will not watch his lips move over that cracker or think about licking the small crumb at the edge of his mouth.

The soup is absolutely delicious. I glance up and watch Moon lick the crumb from his lips. My inner thighs tingle. I’m banged up and not feeling well, and I still want to run my hands across the stubbly line of his jaw and lick his mouth.

“Albondigas,” he says. I have no idea what he’s talking about and give him a confused look. “The soup. It’s albondigas,” he offers.

Just his mouth saying the word “albondigas” is more than my over-sexed thoughts can handle. Soup dribbles from my chin, and before I can stop him, Moon wipes it with a napkin. He’s close, so close, and it makes me nervous. I want him so very badly. “I’ve heard of albondigas but never realized it was soup.”

He pulls away. “Such a white girl thing to say. You don’t speak Spanish either, do you?”

His eyes are mesmerizing. I swear the silver streaks come and go with his moods. “Only English. I took French in school and I can’t speak a word of it.”

“En outre, nous sommes des hommes, et après tout c'est notre affaire à risquer notre vie,” he recites in better French than my instructor used. Is there anything this man cannot do?

“I have no idea what you just said.” I’ve stopped eating, and I’m completely fixated on his mouth.

“It’s a quote from
The Three Musketeers
by Alexandre Dumas. ‘
Besides we are men, and after all it is our business to risk our lives.’ I enjoy his books.”

I’m caught off guard. He fucking quotes Dumas in French. “You read?”

And it happens. His head tilts back and he laughs. I can see his perfectly white teeth and the wide expanse of his neck. The reserve he controls so tightly is gone.

I once asked my mother what first attracted her to my father. She said it was his eyes—the kindness in his eyes. Moon has intense eyes—blue and mystic, treacherous and deadly, sensual and all-knowing. His eyes alone draw me in. Then, he laughs. It’s more than a sexy sound. It’s sex that punches between my thighs so I’m riding the vibration. It’s deep and uncontrolled; a veritable thrust of sound that heats my blood.

That’s not all I’m aware of as I watch him surrender to a side I’m sure few people see. To understand the complexity that is Moon, you need to appreciate the entire package. His mind is sharp and he reads people easily. I swear he sees inside my brain and plucks out my thoughts. His skin is smoke; it’s the only way to describe it now that I’ve had time to examine him. If I knew nothing about Moon and saw him on the street, I would think Hawaiian or Samoan. He’s exotic, and his eyes grab you first. Blue eyes have never been my thing, but his have changed my mind. And the word “kind” can’t be used in conjunction with Moon’s eyes. Then, sometimes, when he looks at me, they go steamy hot. The kind of hot that says I want to lick you from the bottom to the top and then eat you slowly. So slowly, you won’t stop screaming until you’re completely undone. But even with all that, it’s his magical laughter that captivates me. I think I fall the tiniest bit in love with his laugh.

The world is a cruel place. I’m an ex-cop with a cop’s superior attitude. Moon is a criminal and controls a criminal empire. Wanting him as badly as I do is playing havoc with my soul.

Chapter Sixteen

I SLEEP THE REST
of the day. When I wake up, it’s dark outside, which means it’s after nine at night. Moon enters the room as soon as I exit the bathroom. The only light is the glow from the bathroom because I couldn’t find any other light switch.

“You’re walking around again,” he says by way of greeting.

“I’m trying to figure out how to turn on the damn lights,” I respond in frustration.

He walks back to the bedroom doors, opens a panel that looks like part of the wall, and turns on soft lighting that displays the artwork on the walls. It’s a beautiful way to light a room.

“I need to walk around,” I say. “My muscles are sore and I need to use them.”

He moves closer and his voice gentles. “Would you like to take a walk outside?” This caring side of him does indecent things to my sex organs.

I pull the material at the top of the dress shirt I’m wearing out a bit. Moon’s eyes follow my hand. “This is all I’ve been given to wear.” I don’t mention that I have nothing under the shirt because he already knows.

His gaze slowly sweeps my body before rising to meet my eyes. “Gabriella placed clothes in the closet for you. Change and I will take you for a short walk.”

We stand there without moving. I want to unbutton his shirt. I want to see his eyes go dark. I want him to touch me and help me forget about the world outside of the compound walls.

So many questions have flashed through my mind since waking up a short time ago. How was Penny killed? Where is her body? What’s been going on with Kennedy while I slept the day away? I need to ask and yet I don’t want to know. Hiding is so unlike me and I have no idea why I feel this way.

Moon takes the last few steps between us and grasps my chin with his fingers. “You need to be well before you worry about all the things going through your mind right now.”

He’s done it again. “How do you do that? Read my thoughts, I mean.”

I get his intensity. “You are so very easy to read, Madison. Your face gives everything away.” His thumb glides across my cheek and along my jaw. “Your expression changes with your thoughts.” He rubs the corner of my lips. “And here. Your mouth goes soft or tight. Right now, your lips are pouty.” His thumb sweeps all the way across my mouth. “Your lips… I’m afraid they are my undoing.”

I don’t think pouty lips are really a compliment—touch says differently. I need him to kiss me and take away my scattered thoughts. Instead, he releases my chin and his fingers skim across my neck, over my shoulder, and down my arm until he weaves his fingers through mine. His touch leaves a trail of fire behind. “Would you like me to help you dress?” His eyes turn smoky blue.

Undress. Now. With him watching. It’s what I want, though not what I say. “Give me a few minutes.” The corner of his lips quirk. He knows I want him, and somehow I need to guard my expressions from this man. As a cop, I prided myself on my ability to hide emotion.

He leads me to the closet and touches a softly lit panel twice. It increases the lighting in small increments. He lifts my hand and kisses the back of my fingers. Why is this such a turn on? If a woman told me that a man kissed the backs of her fingers, I’d think it hokey. With Moon, it’s sexy and chivalrous. He releases me, walks to one of the drawers, and opens it slightly.

“You should have what you need to get started. More items are in the drawers below, shoes are to the side, and some things are hanging.” He walks to the closet entrance. “I have a phone conference at midnight, so we don’t have much time. Dress quickly.”

I can only nod. He leaves me to dress. There is no clock in his room, and not knowing the time is driving me crazy. I also need to ask about my phone. No, that would be his phone—my phone was lost inside Sally somewhere. And my gun. I cannot forget to ask about my gun.

I peer into the drawer he opened and blush. It’s filled with intimates. Each is a matching set in different colors—red, dark blue, black, pink, and yellow. I lift one bra and see it’s my exact size. I so hope it was Gabriella who shopped; I can’t help wondering if they had to twist her arm to persuade her to do it. I close the drawer so I can check the next one. Colorful tees fill it. The drawer below holds shorts and cargo pants. The bottom drawer has socks. I glance around the closet and see delicate blouses and several sundresses hanging beside Moon’s casual clothes. The cubbyholes beside the drawers are filled with clear shoeboxes and I pull one out. Strappy red sandals. I slept through Gabriella bringing in an entire wardrobe. I should feel angry that Moon bought all these items. I decide to be angry later and for now just take advantage of the chance to move around.

I remove Moon’s dress shirt and let it drop to the floor. I very carefully pull a pale blue tee over my head and step into a pair of white shorts. Minus socks, I slip on a pair of white deck shoes and take a minute to look in the full-length wall mirror. You can only describe how I look above the neck as
face meets brick wall
. I don’t waste time examining what I can’t change. Below the neck, I’m toned and have pale skin, large breasts, and long legs. I work at this body. Not for looks, but for taking care of business. I’m in shape, athletic, and like to think I can kick ass when needed.

Without saying a word to Moon, I walk into the bathroom. I brush my teeth and then use his hairbrush, but a war with my hair is one I can’t win right now. My hair is a tangled mess and needs deep conditioner and a fine comb. I give up. Hopefully, after our walk, Moon will give me something more substantial to eat than soup and crackers. A side of beef sounds good right now. After one last look and cringe at the mirror, I leave the room.