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Authors: Gena Showalter

Playing With Fire (11 page)

BOOK: Playing With Fire
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Unbidden, my gaze traveled the path his had taken. I was completely covered, but the sheet was see-through. Even in the moonlight, my nipples were clearly outlined, as was the dark triangle of hair between my legs. I gasped. “You should have told me I was giving you a peep show!”

“What, and let you end it? Do I look stupid?” He turned away from me. “Hurry up. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.” His legs kicked over the side of the bed, and he stood.

Before I could blink, he strode to the door and opened and closed it without a single noise. Not a whoosh of air, not a squeak of a hinge. He was gone, as if he’d never been inside the room. I knew better, though. I still tingled. Still fought for breath.

I scrambled up, and my knees almost buckled. Would Rome always have that effect on me? Would my body always ache for him? Would every feminine part of me always weep for him?

I hurriedly dressed, my clothes damp and wrinkled from their washing. My shoes were still covered in ash. I would have loved a brush for my hair, but didn’t have one. Instead, I quickly finger-combed the dark tangles. So far Rome had only seen me at my worst, and I didn’t like that fact. If he found me attractive like this, how would he react if I wore full makeup, a slinky dress and stilettos?

Not that you want to attract him, right?
one half of me said.

Shut up, dummy,
the other half replied. If I wanted to take a train out of Denial and visit the harsh land of Reality, so be it. The man rocked my world, and I would dearly love to rock his.
So there.

Not knowing what I’d find outside, I slowly opened the door and peeked. Six cars, several sedans, a truck and two SUVs occupied this section of the parking lot, barely visible in the darkness of the night. There were no towering streetlights here, only muted beams of moonlight. Where was Rome? Telling me which car belonged to him would have benefited us both.

I guess he’d been too distracted to think of it, I mused with a satisfied smile.

Several rooms down, a pair of car lights switched quickly on and off. Surprised, I squinted, narrowing my field of vision. Without the flash of lights, I would never have known the car was there. It was so dark it settled comfortably into the night, perfectly camouflaged. As I studied it and my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out two silhouettes through the tinted windows, one in the driver’s seat, one in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see actual faces, but was confident I was looking at Rome and Tanner.

I shut and locked the door behind me and moved toward the car, only then hearing the purr of its engine. The night air was cool and clean, and I breathed deeply—but the air froze in my throat as the passenger door opened and light flooded the inside of the car.

My feet froze, too. So did my hands—actually icing over.

Three men were inside the car, I realized, and none of them was Rome. For the second time that day, my gaze locked with Pretty Boy’s, who was climbing out of the open door and reaching for me. My hand flattened on the hood, and I pushed myself backward. In a mere heartbeat of time, the entire car glazed with ice.

I shook my head. I’d just frozen a car. An entire car. By touching it. Somehow it seemed more surreal than the other things I’d frozen.

Pretty Boy scowled. “This doesn’t have to be violent, Belle.” His voice was as unemotional as I remembered. His eyes were flat, not kind in the least as he stepped toward me. “Cooperate and I’ll make sure you’re kept unharmed.”

“You’re not CIA,” I blurted, stepping backward. Where was Rome? The cold was leaving me for some reason. I didn’t think I’d be able to turn Pretty Boy to ice if he jumped me.

“I
am
your only friend at the moment. Rome wants to kill you. I want to help you.”

“You’re lying.” Rome had had plenty of opportunities to hurt me, but he hadn’t. Not once. “You’re—” A solid wall of muscle slammed into my side, shoving oxygen from my lungs, and strong arms banded around me. I was jolted off my feet and carted away at an insanely swift pace. Rome’s male scent enveloped me as surely as his arms. “You should have warned me,” I gasped.

“Wait,” Pretty Boy called. “Let’s talk about this, Agent!” When Rome didn’t respond, I heard Pretty Boy curse. “Get the other car,” he ordered. “And for Christ’s sake, someone catch them. Alive.”

“There was no time for a warning.” Rome’s boots pounded on the pavement and he turned sharply, rounding a corner.

Behind us, I heard a man’s curse, then frantic footsteps. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Put me down. I can run.”

He ignored me, carrying me all the way to the back of the motel, where a four-door Crown Victoria waited. “Duck your head,” he said, barely giving me time to react before he swung open the door and chucked me into the passenger seat.

I caught a glimpse of Tanner sleeping in the back seat a split second before Rome dived into the driver’s seat. The car was already running, its front end facing the road, so all he had to do was slip it into gear and stomp on the gas. We peeled out, gravel flying from the back wheels.

Pop. Whiz. Crack.

Pop. Whiz. Crack.

I screamed as the window beside Rome shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

“Stay down,” he shouted.

Our car jolted left, then right, then crashed into something. A body, I realized with the ensuing thump. Someone howled in agonizing pain, but we didn’t slow. Didn’t stop. We made another swift turn, hopped a curb and went flying across grass. Tires squealed when we finally hit the main street. Wind blasted through the shattered window, whipping inside the car and slapping my hair around my face.

The car’s lights were turned off, leaving blackness in front of us. How could Rome see anything? How could another car see us? If we’d escaped Pretty Boy only to die in a fiery crash, I was going to be pissed.

I was having trouble catching my breath—and not in a good way. Fear pounded through me, ice-cold, intense. They had shot at us. Shot at us, for God’s sake! We could have died. My heart tripped erratically, and a rush of blood roared in my ears.

Would Pretty Boy ever give up?

Was this how I would spend the rest of my life?

Another icy river rushed over me, lancing at my skin and sinking deep into my bones. I was so cold, mist was forming with every exhalation.

“Calm down, Belle, before you turn the car to ice and ruin the engine,” Rome said. Tiny ice crystals were beginning to stream from the car’s air vents. “Good thoughts, baby, good thoughts.” He grasped the steering wheel and maneuvered us down another road. “Anger causes fire, fear causes cold. So good thoughts should neutralize both.”

Neutralize.
My favorite word.

A tremor cascaded through me. I had no happy place right now. I mean, emotions couldn’t be forced. I could no more stop being frightened than I could stop loving my dad. And that meant Rome and I would fail before we’d gotten started. We would be captured.

“Remember when I kissed you?” he asked. “How good it was?”

How good it was…
as if I could ever forget. An image of his face lowering toward mine, his lips seeking mine, instantly claimed center stage in my head, chasing away all other thoughts. Bye-bye, fear. Hello, desire. He’d looked at me as if I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if he’d die if he didn’t taste me.

Let’s face it. I’m not a grade A specimen of femininity and delicacy. Sure, I’m cute. Some people might call me spunky. (I won’t mention the people who call me a bitch.) Cute and spunky do not fill sensual, strong, larger-than-life men like Rome with unquenchable passion.

He’d wanted me, though. That kind of…absorption couldn’t be faked.

“You erupted for me,” he said huskily. “You were so turned on I could smell your desire, and I liked it. I wanted more. And I’ll be honest with you, baby. You’ve got the hottest little tongue I’ve ever tasted, and I want it all over me.”

My blood heated, and the ice inside me melted. I darted a glance to the back seat; thankfully, Tanner hadn’t woken up and I could—

The car swerved again, causing me to careen from side to side. Rome’s words faded from my ears, his face vanished from my mind. My hope to engage in an erotic conversation dissolved. The ice erected high walls inside me once again.

“I saw your face afterward,” Rome continued, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You would have come if I’d pushed you much further. You would have spread your legs and welcomed me inside.”

I felt myself relaxing for the second time. “Yes,” I said, not trying to deny it.

“You were wet for me.”

“Yes.”

“I was hard for you. I’m hard for you now.”

Desire beat through me, and I squirmed in my seat. That he spoke to me like this, erotic and aroused, while danger enveloped us, only added to the thrill. I wanted him. I did. Wanted him naked and inside me, gliding in and out. Hard, so hard.

“If the situation had been different, Belle, I would have stripped you down and loved every inch of you.”

“Soon,” I breathed, and in that moment I didn’t care how easy or foolish that made me.

“Soon,” he promised.

After that, I didn’t know what to say. I was ready for him. Eager. With only a few words, he’d set me aflame. When he next touched me…

Rome cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. His gaze flicked to me, then hastily moved away. The tips of my fingers were heating, wafts of smoke curling from them. I sank into my seat, hooked my whipping hair behind my ears and blanked my mind, the hardest thing I’d done in a long, long time. Breath shuddered from my lungs. I walked a fine line, I realized. Passion of any sort could cause a fire.

“You calm now?” he asked me.

“Yes.” My head flopped against the seat, and I gazed at the moonlight streaming over the trees.
Don’t think about Rome. Don’t think about that kiss.
“I’d feel better if you’d turn on the car lights.”

“No need. I can see in the dark.”

No way. “How?”

“A long time ago, I signed up for an experimental…eye surgery where…something akin to night vision lenses were inserted into my ocular lobes.”

What was with all the pauses in his speech? Still, the thought of undergoing such a procedure caused me to make a face. “Ouch.”

He shrugged. “The outcome was worth the pain—mostly, anyway. Seeing in the dark has saved my life countless times.”

I wanted
that
superhero ability instead of the one I had: creating disaster. “That’s great and all, but other drivers can’t see you.”

Softly he chuckled. “That’s the point.”

“If you cause a crash—”

“Have some faith in me. I just performed a successful rescue. Like I’d really let you get hurt in a collision.”

Trees whizzed past, mere slashes of green. “Did we lose Pretty Boy, then?”

“Pretty Boy?” Rome flicked me an irritated glance. “After everything he’s done, you think he’s pretty?”

I rolled my eyes. “Did we lose him or not?”

“Yeah, about a mile back.” He snorted out a laugh. “Pretty Boy.”

“So where are we going?”

There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds. Then, “I have a friend,” Rome said hesitantly. “She might be able to help us.”

She? Okay, I seriously didn’t like Rome having a female friend. A twinge of jealousy ribboned through me, and my hands clenched in my lap. I’m petty, foolish and absolutely ridiculous. I admit it. I’m not proud of it. But really,
she?
She? Somehow, in the last few minutes—yes, minutes—I’d come to consider Rome my property. I didn’t like him having a female friend. After all, men and women couldn’t be friends without sleeping together. Just a fact of life.

“We’ll stay the night with her,” Rome continued, “then figure out what to do with our third wheel.”

“Third wheel?”

“The kid, remember?” Rome motioned to the back of the car with a tilt of his chin.

I peeked at Tanner again. He had yet to awaken. His lean body was strewn across the cushions, his features soft with dreams. Clumps of blue hair hung over his eyebrow rings.

Why hadn’t he woken up during all the commotion? I wondered. My mouth dried as the answer sprang to mind; I whipped around to face Rome. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

He frowned at me, offended. “I gave him something to knock him out for a while. That’s all.”

“You and your drugs,” I muttered, but I was relieved. “So you neutralized him?”

His frown curled into a wicked half smile he tried to hide. “Something like that.”

“What’d you use?” My gaze roved over Tanner once again. “I’m concerned with how deeply he’s sleeping.”

“I used a perfectly safe combination I like to call the Beddie-Bye Cocktail. He’ll wake up in the morning with a slight headache, that’s all.”

Now I frowned. “He’s just a kid, Rome. If he’s expected home, his parents might call the police when they realize he’s missing.”

Rome made a fast left turn and accelerated. “I did a quick background check on him. His mom left on his eighth birthday, and his dad, who raised him alone since, died a few months ago. The kid inherited some money, and he takes off a lot to spend it. No one will miss him or suspect foul play.”

Dear Lord. No wonder Tanner had seemed needy. No wonder he’d wanted to stay with me. He truly had no one else. He’d lost everyone he loved. I’d lost my mom all those years ago, but I’d been too young to know her. More than that, I’d had my dad to lean on. My heart ached for Tanner, and I found myself reaching out and tracing my fingertip over his cheek. Poor thing. What would I do if—when—my dad died and I was left on my own?

A sharp pang radiated in my chest, leaving me feeling hollow.

In the next instant, a droplet of water splashed onto my cheek, followed quickly by a drop that landed on the side of my nose. Brow furrowing, I wiped them away. “Is it—” I eyed the solid roof of the car “—raining in here?”

“Jesus, Belle. Good thoughts. Good thoughts!”

Another droplet. Confused, I turned to Rome. Liquid drops were sprinkling over him, as well, as if a small rain cloud had invaded the car. “I’m doing this, too?”

BOOK: Playing With Fire
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