Mia Zachary - Yours In Black Lace

Her head was turned to the left, smiling at something out of view. Emelio stood beside her and the camera had captured his unguarded expression. Several indefinable emotions were reflected in his gaze, lighting his hazel eyes with a smoldering intensity.

“Wow, Stevie. That man wants you bad.”

She choked out a laugh. If she wasn’t looking at Mr. Calm, Cool and Controlled with her own eyes, she never would have believed the depth of his regard. A warm tingling feeling spread through her body and settled in the apex of her thighs. That man wanted her bad.

Just then Emelio came back into his office. Tiffnee snatched the one picture and shoved it inside her T-shirt. She whispered under her breath, “I’ll put this in your purse.”

Stevie turned to Emelio, hoping her expression showed concern and not unexpected delight. His dark hair was swept back from his forehead as if he’d shoved it out of his eyes, revealing the small stud in his left ear and giving him a fresh-from-bed sexiness. “Did you find him?”

He scowled and stalked across the room, moving with his signature long, fluid stride. “I took the stairs since the elevators are notoriously slow, but I didn’t see any messenger.”

Stevie listened closely while Tiffnee briefly described the “blond hottie” who’d delivered both packages.

“I want a full, written description of him, everything he said and anything else you remember.”

“For sure, boss. Like, written written or typed written?” At the look he gave her, the receptionist backed toward the door. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”

Emelio shook his head as she bounced back out the door. “That girl is lucky she’s Alex’s cousin.”

Stevie passed him the contents of the manila envelope. “I’d say this blows your ‘harmless admirer’ theory.”

“Feel free to open my mail.”

“I did, thanks.”

Emelio sank into his chair while reading the article, his brooding expression firmly in place. Considering he’d just run down ten flights, there was only the faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead and he wasn’t even out of breath. A woman had to admire that kind of stamina.

She sauntered around the desk and rested one hip on the edge, allowing her blue-and-white skirt to creep up her thigh an inch or so. “That headline relates to your investigation at the Cayo Sueño Resort, right?”

Against his better judgment, Emelio allowed his gaze to travel. It moved from the long, slim thigh, over her knee and along her shapely calf to the high-heeled sandal dangling off her bare toes. It took him a second to remember her question. He raised his focus to Stevie’s face.

“Yeah, we were working an SOD case against the Dominican cartel. Alex went undercover down in the Keys as an investment broker, trying to use a man named Rogelio Braga to get to Frankie Ramos, former head of the cartel. I operated behind the scenes to gather evidence of money laundering. Braga disappeared two days before the arrest, but we finally took down Ramos and seized over a hundred million dollars from their organization.”

“I didn’t work on that case. So I don’t understand what this has to do with me.” She indicated the pictures from the movie set.

“Neither do I. Not yet.”

As he laid the newest set of photos on the desktop, he accepted that Stevie’s safety was now his responsibility. He didn’t want to tell her any more than necessary, not until he was sure. But it seemed obvious Braga intended to use Stevie to get to him. Braga prided himself on being a man who never forgot a favor. Or a slight.

Emelio had more than slighted him. He had infiltrated the cartel right under the man’s nose. Gracias a Dios, Alex had taken his wife, Meghan, and their newborn son to Baltimore to visit her family. That was three less people he had to worry about.

“I want to be on the road within the next hour.”

Stevie’s eyes darkened to a stormy gray, her sexy pout twisting into a frown. “Where are you going?”

“Wherever you go, lady. I’m not leaving your side.”

A warm frisson of awareness passed between them. Her pupils dilated in the dark blue depth of her gaze and he heard the quick intake of breath before she turned her normally subtle Southern accent into a sensual drawl.

“I don’t need a bodyguard, Emelio. I am a bodyguard. Well, at least I’ve been through the training.”

“Then you know how it works. We stay together 24/7 until this is over.”

STEVIE FORCED ASIDE all thought of danger until she focused on getting Emelio alone. She was going to have him to herself, twenty-four hours a day…and night. That was definitely the silver lining in the dark cloud hanging over her life right now.

A spark of excitement ignited in her belly. She’d spent the past four months creating the seduction. Now she was going to climb over the professional wall standing between them and, with any luck, land right in his lap. With a little planning, and a lot of opportunity, she could move their work relationship to an up-close-and-personal level.

The photograph that had captured his rare moment of openness was hidden in her handbag, but she didn’t need to take it out to remember Emelio’s expression. That look of unguarded lust had her feeling hot and tingly. So did the touch of his hand on her forearm.

Emelio stood in front of her, checking in all directions as he held the freight elevator open. His palm felt smooth and warm and strong and a bolt of desire shot though her. How many nights had she dreamed of having his hands stroke and caress her? How many times had she settled for her own?

Excitement hummed along her veins as her eyes roamed over him. His long hair touched the top of his collar in dark waves. The pistachio cotton shirt stretched across the wide expanse of his back was tucked into a pair of black jeans that molded to his butt and thighs.

The guy looked just as good going as coming.

A grin spread over her face. She hadn’t seen him coming yet. But she hoped to before the week was out. Stevie sobered her expression just as Emelio turned his head and nodded.

“All clear.”

His hand slid down to clasp her fingers, and the casual touch sent ripples of longing throughout her body. After another glance around, he led her down the cement-block hallway toward the service entrance. She stumbled as she followed him across the alleyway to the parking garage.

“Slow down, will you? I’m wearing sandals.” He shortened his stride with an apology, allowing her to catch up. To her surprise, he bypassed the VIP slots at the front of the garage. “Isn’t that your Lexus parked right over there?”

“Yeah, it is. We’re taking another car.”

Her hand flexed involuntarily beneath his when her pulse leaped with a different kind of excitement. “What are you going to do, hot-wire one?”

“Something like that.”

He looked around once more and let go of her hand before opening the door to the stairwell. She felt an odd sense of separation at the loss of contact. She also felt her calves screaming in protest.

“You take the stairs. These shoes are more decorative than functional. I’m catching the elevator.”

“One, we don’t want to get trapped in an elevator if anyone’s waiting for us. And two, we’re only going up two flights. You’ll live.”

Her sandals clattered on the concrete. “My life has become a spy-thriller movie.”

“Oh, yeah? Which Bond girl are you?” When he glanced at her a flash of amusement lit his hazel eyes.

“I always thought Holly Goodhead was a great name.” She smirked when his step faltered. The flare of heat in his eyes was quickly extinguished, but she saw it. And she would use it to her advantage later. “But I’d rather be Wai Lin, the heroine in Tomorrow Never Dies.”

“You don’t look Chinese.”

“Funny. She was the best, very strong and independent. Her character was more Bond’s equal. You should watch that film before assigning the next interesting case to one of the guys.”

“I like Sean Connery’s Bond girls better. You can’t go wrong with a woman named Pussy Galore.”

Stevie wrinkled her forehead and grimaced. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“How about, ‘Ooh, James’?”

A chuckle escaped her at his impression of the line spoken by every woman in every Bond movie. Great body, bad-boy attitude and a sense of humor. What more could she ask for?

As Emelio pushed open the level-three entrance, Stevie took a quick look around and then followed him toward the corner parking spaces. It was all very stealthy and exciting. She watched him walk to the passenger side of a silver sports car and pretend to check the tires. Then he reached inside the wheel well and pulled out a small metal box. Inside was a set of keys.

“Well, I’m disappointed. I thought I was finally going to learn how to hot-wire.”

“I’ll teach you some other time.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.

She lowered herself onto the gray leather seat and swung her legs inside. “Mmm. Very nice. Whose car is this?”

“It’s registered to the corporation, so technically it belongs to the agency.” He shut her in and walked around the rear of the vehicle.

By the time he reached the other side, she was already in the driver’s seat. She rolled down the window when he tapped impatiently on the glass. “Since it’s the agency’s car, I get to drive. Hop in, handsome, and I’ll take you for a ride.”

At her choice of words frown lines appeared between his eyebrows, warring with a flash of sexual interest in his gaze. Then his expression cleared and she saw the corner of his mouth relax, though it wasn’t quite a smile.

Emelio nodded once in agreement. “Makes sense, since you know the way to your apartment.”

She started the engine and snuggled into the driver’s seat. “Sweet getaway car. Does it have a rocket launcher or remote-controlled steering?”

“You watch way too many movies.” He handed her the card key to get past the garage’s electronic gate.

As she turned her head to check for oncoming traffic, a beige sedan idling against the curb caught her eye. Looking at the man behind the wheel triggered alarms in her brain. “Emelio, I think that’s the messenger Tiffnee described.”

He swung his head to where she indicated. “Start driving and see if he follows.”

She eased out into traffic, trying to watch where she was going and peer into the rearview mirror at the same time. The presence of the messenger was unnerving, but she welcomed the challenge. She’d always wanted to drive a getaway car.

Emelio’s cell phone began to chime. “Hello? Angie. I can’t— Yes, I know—”

Didn’t those women ever stop calling him? The sudden stab of jealousy annoyed the hell out of her, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. “The beige sedan is pulling away from the curb, heading this way.”

“We’ll have to talk later, cariña.” He disconnected the call and tossed the phone into the beverage holder.

Cariña, again. He could at least show enough imagination to give his girlfriends different endearments. Envy had her growling as she glanced in the mirror again. “He’s only two cars behind us now.”

“Find someplace to pull over.”

“Forget it. We’ll be perfect targets.” Stevie waited until the traffic light turned yellow. Then she shifted down into second gear and hit the gas. The powerful V-6 engine roared in response and she peeled across the intersection, tires squealing.

“Are you crazy?” Emelio braced one arm against the door handle and tightened his seat belt. He held his breath until they shot past the delivery van barreling toward his side of the car. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”