Fifteen days earlier
“For someone who said we were celebrating, you’re awfully quiet and serious tonight,” Angela said softly, snuggling closer to Jake under the sheet. She didn’t care that her pink silk nightgown provided little protection from his nakedness, for it no longer frightened her.
“You didn’t have a good time?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“Dinner and dancing at the Hotel del Coronado. Moonlit walk on the beach. It was okay.”
“You’re spoiled.”
“Yes, and you get credit for that.”
He squeezed her tight and kissed the top of her head.
“I still don’t understand what we’re celebrating.” She tilted her head back so she could see his face.
He studied her for a long time before answering. “A couple of things. First of all…you. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Angela.”
She started to make a sassy retort but reconsidered at the seriousness of his tone and expression. “Thank you. I’m flattered.”
Jake’s train of thought seemed to escape him as his gaze covered every inch of her face as though trying to memorize it.
“And second…,” she prompted him.
“And,” he whispered, “that I’m finally brave enough to say…” He cleared his throat. “I love you.”
She gasped. A melting sensation began in her scalp and traveled to the tips of her toes. Her gaze welded to his. Her lips opened, but no words came out.
Jake’s head lowered, and he captured her mouth with a passionate kiss. His tongue ignited a fire that superheated the melting sensation, creating a flow of lava through her body. She moaned against his lips.
Her hand slid between their bodies until her fingers found and fondled his dick. His entire body jerked in surprise, but before his ever-eager dick could respond, he loosened her grasp. He pressed the guilty hand to his lips and then tapped it against his chest.
“This isn’t about sex. I love you in here, not down there.” He grinned. “I know it’s hard to believe, but this isn’t a trick to get inside you.”
“But I want you inside me. Now.”
Jake blinked stupidly. “Huh?”
“I’m serious. I want to do it tonight.”
He shook his head in disgust. “I’m a worse asshole than I thought. I can’t even say something as special as ‘I love you’ without you concluding it’s a tacky come-on. Honestly, Angela, I’m not interested in sex tonight.” He rolled his eyes comically. “Ssshhh. I think I hear pigs flying and Hell freezing over.”
“Very funny. But I’m not joking. I want to have sex with you. Right here, right now.”
An emotion Angela couldn’t identify drifted across Jake’s face, darkening his eyes. His smile faded, his lips thinned, and his jaw set stubbornly.
“Why tonight?” he asked. His voice had lost its tenderness, now sounding flat and detached.
She rolled onto her back, nestling her head sideways against the pillow so she could still look at him.
“I’m not sure, Jake, but I know I’m ready. No false starts, no mind changes, no knees to the groin. I’ve been so close for the last week or two, but for some reason, I just couldn’t take the final leap of faith. Maybe part of me didn’t like the idea that having sex with you was simply the last step in your twelve-step program. I needed it to be more than that.” She hesitated. “My mind was ready. My body was ready. But my heart wasn’t. Maybe subconsciously, I needed it to be an act of love, not lust.”
Touching his face with her fingertips, she traced his lips and the line of his jaw. “You see, Jake Stone, I love you, too.”
Turning onto her side, she pulled up the gown and pressed her pelvis into his. She felt the reflexive jerk of his dick as she rubbed against it. Her mouth covered his, her tongue squeezing between his lips, teasing, enticing.
Jake yanked his head back, gaping. “Christ, Angela, are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He needed no further encouragement.
Framing her face with both hands, he kissed her mouth with an intensity Angela had never experienced. When they were forced to come up for air, he flung off the sheet. She could tell he was watching her eyes for any sign of distress while he helped her wiggle out of the gown and tossed it aside. Then his gaze raked her naked body from head to toe, lingering appreciatively on all the critical spots. The desire inside her flared.
His warm hands seemed to touch her everywhere at once, perhaps because they left a trail of heat behind. Tantalizing first with his fingers and then with his tongue, he brought her nipples to attention. An involuntary moan sounded deep in her throat.
His fingers threaded through her hair and stroked her neck. Flitting as lightly as a butterfly, his tongue teased her earlobes, tasted her breasts, and tickled her navel. Strong hands massaged her shoulders, waist, and ass. Even her legs and toes received his admiring attention.
Only their pounding heartbeats measured the passing time as Jake lovingly caressed her, inch by delicious inch.
She clasped her hands around his neck and brought him back up. She panted with anticipation and struggled to speak.
“What are you waiting for? You’ve wanted to have sex with me for three months.”
“I don’t want to have sex with you, Angela.” He chuckled softly at her bewildered expression. “I want to make love to you, and there’s so much more to that than mere sex. I want to explore you, savor you, please you, satisfy you. There’s only one first time between us. You deserve for it to be extra special. I don’t want to rush it.”
“I don’t know…if I can wait.”
“You don’t have to.”
He pulled free of her grasp and scooted down in the bed. His fingers traveled down her belly to the V at the top of her thighs. He kissed her soft, curly hair while his fingers separated her sensitive, swollen folds. Her body was ready for him. As he gently slid two fingers inside her, his tongue fondled her.
Her back arched, and she cried out with pleasure. Moments later, waves of orgasm washed through her. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I was…too fast.”
He lay down alongside her. “Don’t be sorry. You have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll let you rest a little, though. Roll over on your stomach.”
Languidly, she complied.
Jake straddled her legs and leaned forward. His fingers firmly massaged her scalp and her nape. They squeezed the muscles of her shoulders and back into relaxed submission. He continued lower, kneading, stroking, tantalizing in an arousing caress. When he stopped suddenly, Angela glanced over her shoulder.
His head hung forward, eyes closed. He grimaced as if fighting the pressure to release. “Rest time’s over,” he whispered hoarsely.
He rose so she could twist around under him. Her hands stroked his chest, tweaked his hardened nipples, kneaded his taut stomach. A carnal groan rumbled in his chest. His eyes opened and locked on hers.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.”
He grinned. His hands held her cheeks as his tongue penetrated deep. His knee separated her thighs. He climbed between them and lowered some of his weight onto her.
Angela grasped his hips, angling herself up for their bodies to meet at the crucial spot.
“Easy, babe, easy. It’s been four years. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She whispered, “I’m ready.”
“I know. Look at me.”
The instant their eyes connected, he slid partially inside her and stopped. She kept her gaze glued to his while Jake rocked gently and then penetrated deeper, filling her. She stiffened and tightened around him.
“Hurts?”
“No. Don’t stop.”
“More?”
Her muscles relaxed. She exhaled and nodded jerkily.
He sheathed himself completely inside her. She moved beneath him, and he cursed softly. “Slow down. I’m too close.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” She smiled and clenched her muscles around him.
“Oh Jesus. Hang on.” He withdrew slightly and thrust forward.
Angela rose to meet him, wanting him, needing him. Again and again and again. She watched his eyes, saw the crescendo of his tension as hers spiked.
She screamed with the first explosion of her orgasm. His dick swelled even more as his release jetted into her. A blend of a growl and a groan burst from him, celebrating the end to three months of celibacy. He pumped until the last spasm of her climax faded.
Collapsing slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his side, pulling her with him and staying inside her. He kissed her tenderly.
“I love you, Angela.”
* * *
Jake slouched on the edge of the bed, his fingers clutching the deadly syringe hidden in his jacket pocket. Despite the timpani drum pounding in his chest and echoing in his ears, he kept his face expressionless.
He stared at Angela. Asleep. Naked. Unsuspecting. She was seductive even in repose, her blond hair encircling her head like a halo on the pillow.
The guilt gnawing at his gut did not spring from having been inside her, making love to her, but from what he knew was in her heart and mind and soul. Killing her was wrong. And even though he’d known it was wrong for a long time, he had been powerless to change the course of events set in motion almost four months ago. If he didn’t kill her, someone else would, and that person would use the most efficient method without any regard for her suffering.
His fingers tightened around the syringe. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, releasing an avalanche of regret, remorse, and resignation. Yet sorrow still crushed his chest.
What kind of monster am I? I can’t do this. I can’t. His chin dropped to his chest. I can’t, but I must. Dear God, help me.
Angela stirred. Her eyes opened, and she smiled up at him with those pools of molten dark chocolate. He hated what his eyes told her.
“Why,” she began, “are you looking at me like that?” She frowned. “What’s wrong? My God, Jake, you look like death warmed over.” She pushed up onto her elbows.
Her eyes pulled him deeper. He sucked air through his mouth to fight the feeling of drowning. Close your eyes. I can’t stand for you to look at me. I’m an unlovable monster. Forgive me. I have no choice. I have to do it.
An oil slick of pain drifted across Angela’s eyes. “You’re dressed. Are you leaving? I don’t understand.”
I don’t understand either. Why would anyone want to kill you? You don’t deserve to die. It’s not right.
“For God’s sake, talk to me, Jake. What’s happening?” She reached for him. “Please stay. I need you. I love you. I love you…so much.”
Inside his chest, a boulder crumbled. Her words crushed the remaining granite of his emotions into rubble.
I am not a monster. I can love and be loved. I can’t kill you. I need you, too. If I die trying to save you, I’ll die happy because I can’t stand the thought of living without you.
He caught her hand and pulled her upright into his arms. Angela clung to him. Burying his face in her hair, he closed his eyes and embraced her like a drowning man clings to his rescuer.
“I love you, too,” he said around the lump in his throat.
Her heart pounding with his, she sniffled and shuddered.
“Ssshhh. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”
While he comforted her, his mind raced. Ideas, shadowy and vague, swirled in his head. Suddenly they melded, and a risky plan took shape. There were a thousand variables and no way to control any of them. Would his instincts and skills be up to the challenge?
Time. It was their enemy. He—no, they—would have to move quickly.
They. Jake was used to working alone, so Angela’s involvement immediately loomed as a major risk. Unfortunately, there was no way to pull off the illusion without her cooperation and trust.
Trust. Such a fragile thing. Would she trust him? Would she believe him? How would she react?
He nuzzled her cheek and whispered, “Angela, I do love you. And I’m sorry for scaring you, but this is scary shit even to me. God, I prayed that you’d never have to know about this.”
She raised her head from his shoulder and gazed into his eyes, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He gently laid her back on the bed as he struggled for the right words. Could he describe the danger she was in without revealing his role?
“I know this is going to sound incredible, but you must believe me. I wish there was an easier way to tell you this.”
“Tell me what? What?” she asked, anxiety building in her voice.
Trust. He scrubbed a hand across his brow and swallowed hard. “All right, all right. I’ve learned there’s a contract out to kill you.”
The flash in her eyes revealed a combination of shock, disbelief, and panic. Her mouth hung open. “Oh my God. There must be some mistake. That can’t be true.”
“Damn it, I wish it weren’t. I’m going to protect you, Angela. I have a plan, but we’ll have to move fast.”
She rubbed her temples and exhaled. “Give me a minute. I can’t believe… I have to understand… How do you know about this?”
He hesitated only a second upon hearing the question he dreaded. “In my line of work, I often use contacts in the underbelly of society. Informants. Street bums. Mafia and gang wannabes. People who hear things. Chuck Thompson—remember him?—has been hearing things also.” Was that a spark of suspicion in her eyes? “You’re going to have to trust me, Angela.”
She wrung her hands. “This can’t be happening. Who in the world would want to kill me? And why? Why?” she asked, voice cracking. Her eyes pleaded for a reason.
“I don’t know. But I have a theory.” He squeezed her cold, trembling hands between his warm, steady ones. Guilt gripped him as he lied to her again. “It might be connected with the Malibu party. Both Marco Romano and Sergio Zurlini reportedly have ties to the Mafia. Maybe the studly star didn’t like being told no and publicly embarrassed.”
“That’s absurd. They wouldn’t kill me because of that.”
“Shit. Then you tell me who wants you dead, because someone most definitely does.”
“I don’t know,” she said, sitting up, swinging her legs off the opposite side of the bed, and standing. “I’m calling the police.”
Jake leaped off the bed and blocked her path. “Don’t do that. It’s a bad idea. The cops won’t do anything.” He watched a cloud of what he hoped was only disbelief—and not distrust—darken her eyes.
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t have any proof. I need time to nose around and get something concrete to give them. Then they might help you.” A lead weight dropped in his stomach and inched toward his intestines.
She stared at him. “Okay, but I have to do something. This is just too surreal.” She shook her head and cringed. “What’s your plan?” she asked reluctantly.
“First, we’re going to fake your suicide—”
“Oh my God. That’s awful.”
“—here, tonight. Then I’ll drive you to my beach house in Rosarito, and you’ll hide there until I figure this mess out.”
“Hide? I don’t want to hide. I want to work with you.”
“No way. Whoever is behind this must believe you’re dead so he’ll back off, let his guard down. It’s too dangerous if I have to be looking over my shoulder trying to protect you while I investigate. I have to know you’re safe so I can focus on finding the asshole. And working solo will attract less attention.”
“Do you have to do this alone?” She fisted her fingers in her hair. “Why not call one of your cop friends? Or Chuck and Curly?”
His icy glare would have unnerved a weaker woman. “Is it me or my expertise that you don’t trust, Angela?”
Her eyes searched his face. “Tell me again, Jake.”
He frowned. “Tell you what?”
Her face set, she waited.
Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her to him, enveloped her in his arms. “I love you, Angela.”
“I love you, too, and I do trust you.”