Secure Location

chapter Nine

Cruz grabbed her wrist and opened his eyes. Her face was pale, her eyes big and her sweet lips were pressed together in fierce concentration. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled.

He’d been a wreck since he’d heard her stand up and unzip her dress. He’d waited, expecting her to go to her room. Had been prepared to spend another night thinking about her, dreaming about what it would be like to hold her again, to slip inside her.

Then he’d heard the soft sound of the material hitting the carpet and knew that she was almost naked.

It was a miracle his own zipper had held up.

She stared at him. “I want to have sex with you,” she said finally.

Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. “You’ve had too much to drink, Meg. Go to bed.” He let go of her wrist and scooted farther up on the mattress, away from her.

“I’m not drunk, Cruz. I know what I’m doing.”

She straightened up and stood before him. And damn it, he looked. Like a condemned man staring at his last days of freedom, he drank in the sight.

Breasts, firm yet so soft with pale pink nipples. High ribs, slim waist, narrow hips. So feminine with her long legs and pale skin that had freckles in the most interesting places.

He felt hot and edgy and he clenched and unclenched his hand to release some of the tension. “This isn’t a game you’re playing, Meg.”

She put a knee on the bed.

“Look,” he said. “I appreciate the offer but—”

Other knee on the bed. Less than a foot separated them. She was killing him.

She reached out, letting her fingers dance across his thigh, then higher. Her fingers rested on the thin material of his tuxedo pants. Then she gently stroked the length of him.

He wanted to push himself into her hand, her mouth. He wanted to roll her underneath him and not stop until one of them passed out.

But he kept still. Somehow.

“Please?” she asked.

Damn. He’d never been able to refuse her anything. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to start tonight.

He sat up, cupped one hand around the back of her head and pulled her close. And he kissed her. Softly, at first. Then she opened her mouth and drew him in.

So familiar. So new.

He shifted, pulling her down next to him. Her skin was warm and he could smell the sweet scent of her wanting him. “Last chance to walk away,” he whispered, his tone deliberately light.

She shook her head. And when she reached for his belt this time, he didn’t stop her.

* * *

MEG WOKE UP when Cruz’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the clock next to the bed and was surprised to see that it was almost 9:00 a.m. She never slept that late, even on the weekends.

She hadn’t gotten all that much sleep. She and Cruz had made love three times. The first time had been frenzied, both of them so needy that it seemed as if they would inhale each other. The second and third times had been different. No less passion, no smaller fireworks, but still calmer, more soothing, more sensual.

There wasn’t a spot on her body that he hadn’t touched, kissed, loved. The man had always been an energetic lover but last night he’d seemed driven to take her to new heights.

And she’d been happy to go there. Had been delighted to see his response to her touch, had felt the desire tear through her when she’d known his release was near.

Now he had his big body curled around her, her back to his front. And by the feel of things, he was ready for round four.

“Are you going to answer that?” she asked.

He reached his arm out to the bedside table and picked up his cell phone to peer at the number. “It’s my sister,” he mumbled. “I’ll call her back.”

She scooted away. “Take it. I have to pee anyway.”

When she came back to the bed, he was still on the phone. He’d moved and was sitting up, a pen in his hand, a hotel notepad resting on the blanket that covered him. He was smiling, looking slightly amused.

“Congratulations,” he said. “I always thought you were a pit bull. Those other sales reps didn’t have a chance.” He listened, then glanced at Meg. His voice got more serious. “I’m not exactly here on a vacation,” he said. “I’m...helping Meg.”

She sat down on the bed. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

“Hang on, sis.” He held the phone up against his chest. “My sister won a sales contest. It’s a trip to Las Vegas. It’s this weekend. Her husband is out of town on a business trip. She had a babysitter lined up but the woman has the flu. So she doesn’t have anybody to watch her little girl.”

“Oh.” Meg could feel her heart rate accelerate. Elsa didn’t have any other family in Texas. “You should do it,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “We’re not any closer to finding the creep who’s been hassling you.”

“Maybe because he’s not any closer to me. Maybe he’s had his fun and he’s moved on to his next victim.”

He hesitated and then put the phone back to his ear. “As usual your big brother can bail you out. Drop off the rug rat anytime. I’ll have her tossing back shots by noon.”

He listened, laughed and said goodbye. When he clicked the end button, he was shaking his head.

“This should be fun,” he said. “Where should we take her for lunch?”

We. Elsa’s little girl would be almost four, twice the age of Missy when she’d died.

Meg could feel her chest pull even tighter. She felt light-headed, almost dizzy.

She couldn’t help Cruz. She couldn’t watch over a child. She just couldn’t.

“I...I have to work, Cruz. There’s no way I can help you.”

He cocked his head. “You have to work all weekend?” he asked, his tone puzzled but still pleasant.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Scott gave me a special project. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

She could see the muscles in Cruz’s jaw tighten. “I’m not trying to get in the way of your work, Meg. But I thought we might spend some time together. Especially after last night.”

He sounded so wounded that she almost caved. But if he knew about the past, he’d realize that both he and his niece were better off without her.

“Last night was...nice. But it didn’t change anything.”

“Nice?” He threw off the blanket, grabbed his briefs off the floor and yanked them on. Then he started to pace around the room. “Are you kidding me?” He ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “Nice?” His voice was louder, harsher. “Thanks for the time in the sack, Cruz. I had an itch and you scratched it so very nicely. Now, I’m good to go for another year or so—” he threw her a look that could kill “—or until I get up close and friendly with my boss.”

She felt stiff and old and so brittle that if she bumped into anything little pieces would fall off. With as much dignity as she could, given that she was still naked, she gathered up her discarded clothes from the night before and walked over to the connecting door. She paused, her back to him. Without turning she said, “For what it’s worth, Cruz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Then she walked into her room, dumped her clothes in a pile, stepped into the shower and started to cry.