CHAPTER SEVEN
“What the hell are we doing at the zoo, Crystal?” Max asked her through gritted teeth.
“In my vision I saw the two of us inside the Portland Zoo,” she answered and quickly opened the passenger door, not needing her psychic powers to know Max was likely to blow a gasket.
What she didn’t anticipate was him waving his hand and nearly decapitating her as the door slammed shut and locked, trapping her into place.
“Hey, stop that.”
His nostrils flared. “Is this some sick joke? Why would an investigation on my father, the banker, lead us to a zoo?”
“I don’t know. That’s why we needed to follow the lead to find out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Seriously? She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not stupid. One, you wouldn’t have believed me. And two, you wouldn’t have wanted to go.”
His nostrils flared again, and a muscle in his jaw ticked in tandem as he sucked in a breath in that way she was beginning to learn meant he was five seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum. “Do you think this is a game? Madden is attempting to take over the fucking world, and you drag me to a zoo?” he shouted with such force that she actually felt her hair blow back.
Well, he could piss and moan all he wanted, but she believed in what she saw. The vision hadn’t changed, which meant that one way or another, Max was going with her.
She lifted her chin with what she hoped looked like supreme confidence. “I saw what I saw.”
“What do we find here?”
I don’t know, she almost admitted with frustration both at Max and at her limited ability. “We just need to go inside.”
And pray to God that another vision came to her fast.
She flashed a confident grin. “Look, no one is twisting your arm to go inside. You are more than welcome to wait in the car. I’ll go in and look around, and catch up with you later to tell you what I find. Now, come on.” She jiggled the door handle. “Let me out of the car, Cole,” she said in her best Nicole Kidman impersonation.
The dance of his nostrils continued. Inhale, two three four, exhale, two three four.
Hmm, apparently he was not a Days of Thunder fan.
Just when she thought the blood vessel in his forehead was about to burst, the locks clicked open with a firecracker pop.
She stepped out into the sunshine and shut the door behind her before he could change his mind. When she turned around, he was right there, blocking her path. Impatience tightened his sharp features and seemed to add inches to his already formidable height.
He walked her back until the hot metal of the car’s exterior burned through the clothes on her back just as hotly as his hard body warmed her front. She tried to hold her breath, but the tantalizing scent of man and his leather coat filled her nose.
That damn vibration was there too, electrifying her nerve endings and enticing her to press closer and crawl up his body like a lumberjack topping a tree, begging him to consume her. Her eyes threatened to cross as she imagined the pleasure. An extremely unhelpful reaction at that particular moment.
It helped that he was still pissed at her, reminding her why she had to ignore these inappropriate urges. From his memories she had learned that Max was used to people exploiting him, used to being cast aside when not needed. He didn’t do emotional. He didn’t play well with others. It was him versus the world and she believed he truly preferred it that way. Which was exactly why she needed to keep their potential working relationship in perspective.
It would be way too tempting to fall into the promise of those lips. Convince herself that she could be the one to “save” him, and forget why he was the man he was. Forget that as soon as she outlived her usefulness, he would most likely get back in his sexy Ferrari and disappear down the highway, leaving nothing but tire smoke and heartache in his wake.
She had to remain focused on the mission, even if it killed her.
“You have one hour, sweetheart,” he bit out and leaned closer, forcing her to tilt her chin higher to retain eye contact. “After that, if you don’t find what we’re looking for, I will leave your ass behind. If you see something, anything, to do with my father, you tell me immediately and follow my lead. I do all of the talking. You understand?”
“Got it.” You arrogant, mouthwatering, son of a bitch. “Now get out of my face,” she snarled back in an act of self-preservation and pushed against his chest. It was either that or close that scant inch between them and kiss him.
Too late, she realized as a self-satisfied smirk curled his lips, she flinched first.
He pressed closer until neither light nor air separated them from breast to groin. “What? Am I invading your personal space? Getting a little too close for comfort?”
His hot breath caressed her cheeks and she locked her knees to keep from melting at his feet like some damn virgin getting felt up by her first crush.
“Is this too intimate for you?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his blue-blue eyes. “You know, we’ve already been intimate once, when you read my mind.”
“I did not read your mind,” she muttered without moving her lips.
He shrugged. “You still pried. I think you owe me. One intimacy for another.”
“Don’t even think—”
Oh, but he did.
His lips closed on hers, not hard and dominant like she expected, but gentle, coaxing, and oh so seductive. If he had groped and fallen on her like a slobbering pervert, her response would have been a swift and immediate knee to his groin. But this gentle conquering was an assault on her senses that made her gasp in surprise.
He pressed his advantage, his tongue stealing inside her mouth to taste and tangle with hers. Chocolate and coffee. Her weakness. And Max was on the verge of becoming another on the list. Strong hands gripped her hips. His long fingers dug into her flanks as he pressed even closer. Lord have mercy. She whimpered and sank into his hold as sweat broke out on her forehead.
His touch was electric. It short-circuited every rational thought, fried all the arguments she made, all of the reasons why she should keep as emotionally distant from this man as possible, and blasted them to smithereens.
“Hey! There are children present,” an indignant mother shouted at them as she passed with her two toddlers in tow.
Max lifted his head with a swift intake of breath. For several long seconds they stared into each other’s eyes. The black of his pupils expanded and shrank as he panted. Thank goodness she wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss.
The tip of his tongue swiped his bottom lip before his mouth twitched in a surprised grin. “You taste like snickerdoodles.”
Crystal blinked as if she were waking up from a deep sleep. With horror she realized her leg was hitched over his hip and she was shamelessly grinding against the weighty bulge in his jeans.
She straightened to her full height, which still brought her only as high as his shoulders, and quickly ducked under his arm. The deep breath she took did little to clear her head, but she would not let him know just how out of control he made her.
“Well.” She pulled the sides of her hoodie together. A trickle of sweat oozed along her hairline, but there was no way she was removing any layers of armor to cool off. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, do you think we can get back to business?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer before spinning on the heel of her boot and heading for the main entrance. All the while she prayed her knees wouldn’t buckle and pitch her face first onto the concrete.
It was a hard battle to keep her posture relaxed and easy. She knew Max’s brain moved at the speed of light. If she touched her tingling lips like she wanted, or clenched her fist to suppress the urge, he’d spot the move in a nanosecond and seize the opportunity to exploit her reaction. She couldn’t allow him to hold any more power over her and call all of the shots.
Dammit, why did he have to be such a great kisser? If he had been lippy or slobbery, she could have brushed it off, no problem. But no, it was perfect, just like the rest of him.
He’s not perfect, she reminded herself. He has commitment issues, a huge ego, and a serious Batman complex. He was far from perfect.
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, sweetie. Nothing will come of the two of you.
An image flashed through her mind, brilliant in its detail. Teal satin sheets, naked limbs entwined. Max above her with his head thrown back as his hips thrust between her splayed thighs. Under him, she arched her back, her eyes closed tight as she screamed his name.
And just as quickly, the vision cleared, leaving her gasping where she stood as if she broke the surface of the ocean after a steep dive.
Fuuuuuuck.
“Crystal? What’s wrong?” Max laid a palm on her back. “Was it a vision?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” She shook off his touch. “Just a little dizzy from sitting so long. Restless leg syndrome, or whatever. Right.” She all but ran to the ticket booth and hoped he bought the charade. Of course, it would have been a better sell if she hadn’t just ridden his leg as if it were a stripper pole.
She stepped under the awning of the ticket booth and blinked against the spots in her eyes caused by the change in lighting. “Two adults, please,” she told the girl behind the glass partition.
“That will be twenty-one dollars.”
“Sweetie?” She batted her lashes at Max.
“Sure, darling,” he drawled and pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket. He flipped it open and pulled out two crisp bills from the fat stack.
She tried not to choke and sputter at the wad of cash he carried on him. Jesus, how much had he been sitting on? Was he so wealthy he carried twenties around as if they were loose change?
Or was he so paranoid he only used cash so there wouldn’t be a paper trail?
Sadly, it was probably the latter.
Did he always live on the run this way? Although she had seen events from his past, it wasn’t the entire picture. His memories were only snippets, glimpses. She didn’t know what he had felt, what he had thought. He could be perfectly happy being the lone wolf, although how anyone could be was beyond her. There had been so many times in her life that, if she had been on her own without her sister to fight for, she would have curled into a ball and given up.
Max accepted the tickets and turned toward her. Behind those baby blues she could see his brain working, measuring her, wondering how she fit into his world. As his assessing gaze drifted over her face, his tongue swept his lower lip as if remembering her taste, her texture.
Gah! There she was again, getting sucked into the intrigue that was Matthew Maxwell Madden III. She swallowed hard and marched ahead of him, determined not to go down that road.
“So, what are we looking for?” he asked, catching up and matching her stride. A predatory mask tightened his features as he looked around, scoping out the area. “Informants? A deal going down? Evidence stashed someplace inconspicuous to be picked up later?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll tell you when I see it.”
His hand brushed hers as they walked and she bit her tongue to keep from telling him to back away. No need to break his concentration now that it was no longer focused on her.
Their footsteps clipped along the sidewalk as they passed the restaurant area and mountain goat enclosure. The zoo was surprisingly empty for the middle of the day, but then again, who would want to be out in the unusually hot summer sun instead of a comfy air-conditioned house?
The trail forked near the otter exhibit. Bobbing on top of a cool pool of water, a half-dozen slick, furry creatures floated on their backs with their eyes closed in bliss. A rock archway was to the left on the path, and she followed her instincts and walked past the cove.
The delicious aroma of fried food teased her nose as they passed a food stand decorated in bags of pink and blue cotton candy. The few scones she had eaten for breakfast had long since been absorbed into her body, and her stomach rumbled in a plea for a corn dog dipped in spicy mustard. She took one step toward the stand then veered back on course. Max would probably throw a conniption fit if she deviated from their task.
Children dressed in brightly colored shirts with the name of a local day camp emblazoned across the chest crowded around the penguin exhibit. All of their attention focused on a man standing in the center wearing a blue shirt with the zoo’s logo. He held two small penguins in his large hands as he educated the children on the birds’ environment. They laughed as he encouraged the birds to perform a few simple tricks, and their teachers swooned when he turned his brilliant smile on them.
He stood tall and broad, like Gulliver among the Lilliputians. His tan skin crinkled around his cornflower blue eyes, which sparkled as if he knew exactly what the female teachers were daydreaming about. Shaggy blond hair lent him an animalistic air that could give a woman ideas about hot sweaty sex up against a tree trunk. A scar ran up from under the collar of his shirt along his neck and more scars crisscrossed his forearms, but they only added to his dangerous appeal. The muscles in his biceps bulged, stretching the sleeve of his cotton polo shirt as he gestured around the exhibit. He was a glowing picture of health and male vitality.
Crystal gasped as she took a second and third look at the man. He wasn’t just glowing.
He glowed.