Arouse Suspicion Read online

"That wasn't the only reason."

  Nick walked into the living room and Danni, curious, followed him. He settled gingerly on the sofa, and Danni dropped into the overstuffed chair, her legs folded beneath her.

  "What other reason was there?" Danni asked.

  "Let's just say there wasn't a whole lot at home for me, besides an old man who was a drunk. And a mother who did anything or anybody he told her." Nick picked up the TV remote and began channel surfing.

  Danni knew all about those kinds of kids—kids from broken families, usually with one, sometimes two parents, and a string of "uncles" or "aunts." Those kids were the ones who ended up populating the jails and prisons once they became adults. Nick Sirocco had escaped that fate. Thanks to her father.

  Gus snuffled, rose from her sprawl on the carpet, and went to Nick, laying her chin on his thigh. Nick gave her head a pat, and she dropped back down to lie by his feet.

  Danni eyed the animal with something akin to amazement. She would've never expected a dog to be so attuned to a person's emotions. Obviously Gus knew her master pretty well.

  The phone rang, startling Danni. She hesitated, and it rang again. She hurried into the kitchen to pick up the handset from the gold wall phone. "Hello."

  "Danni?"

  "Sam. How'd you find me?"

  "I called your place first and didn't get an answer, so I thought I'd take a chance on you being at Paddy's." He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone had roughened with concern. "I wanted to see how you were doing, Danni girl."

  She shrugged and gazed down at the blue and yellow tiled floor. "I'm all right."

  "You don't sound all right. Why don't I take you out to eat, and we can talk?"

  She glanced into the living room and met Nick's inscrutable expression. "I've already eaten. But I'd like to talk. How about breakfast tomorrow morning?"

  "Our favorite pancake place?"

  Danni smiled. "Perfect. Eight o'clock?"

  "I'll see you then. Bye."

  "Bye, Sam."

  She turned away from Nick's too-perceptive eyes and stared out the window above the sink into the dark evening.

  A few seconds later, strong, capable hands settled on her shoulders and kneaded them gently. Danni tensed, then relaxed, as she inhaled Nick's clean scent. Heat flowed from his hands to her shoulders and inward, to encompass her entire body. She wanted to lean back into the solid chest that she knew lay beneath the robe, which was crazy, because she'd known Nick for all of thirty-six hours. And what would he think of her if she suddenly went all soft and maudlin on him? Or if she turned around and kissed him—a wet, take-no-prisoners kind of kiss—that would help her forget for just a little while?

  Her face hot from the spicy fantasy, Danni shrugged away from him and crossed her arms over her sweatshirt. "That was Sam Richmond."

  "What did he want?" Nick asked, mirroring her pose as he leaned against a counter.

  "To take me out to dinner. We're meeting for breakfast, instead."

  "I'll tag along."

  "The invitation didn't include you."

  "I'm not letting you out of my sight until we find out who tried to kill us today."

  "Not us. You."

  He shook his head. "We don't know that. What if he was after you?"

  "Why?"

  "Same reason he'd try to kill me—he thinks you know something."

  Danni restrained a huff of denial. Her father had never confided in her about anything. "I hate this shit," she muttered to herself. She turned to Nick. "So, what do we do?"

  "We can either go to your place or mine, but we stay together." His tone brooked no arguments.

  Danni wasn't too keen on being apart either, not if someone was out to get Nick. The thought of him laid out on a stainless steel table in the morgue made her stomach churn. "Why not stay here?"

  "I didn't think you'd want to after..."

  Nick trailed off, but Danni could fill in the blanks.

  After your dad died in this house.

  Danni suppressed a shiver and snapped, "I can handle it, Sirocco. Besides—" she calmed herself. "This place has more room."

  "It's too big to defend effectively."

  "Spoken like a true soldier," she remarked, half serious. "We'll both be upstairs, and the guest room is across from my old bedroom."

  "It would be better if we slept in the same room."

  Danni glared at him. "You're not that irresistible."

  Nick grinned. "So you won't have a problem sleeping in the same bed and keeping your hands to yourself?"

  "Don't even think about it, Romeo."

  His innocent look was ruined by the dangerous glint in his eyes. Danni decided on a preemptive strike. "You want to wash or dry?"

  "Wash or dry what?"

  Her reply was to fling a dish towel at him. She filled one side of the sink with hot water and soap.

  "I want to pick up my Jeep tonight," Nick said after taking a rinsed dish from her soapy hand.

  "It'll be fine until tomorrow."

  "Not in that neighborhood."

  "We'll get it tomorrow." She stacked the rest of the dishes in the drainer.

  "Are you always so damned stubborn?"

  "Only when I'm right."

  "And you're always right."

  "Not always. Only ninety-nine percent of the time."

  "Cocky, too."

  "Part of my charm," she said with a shrug. She finished washing the dishes and watched the soapy water swirl down the drain. It was safer than looking at Nick Sirocco.

  With a wry smile, he dried the rest of the dishes and placed them in the cupboard. Danni took the towel and hung it over a chair. "Your clothes are probably dry by now," she said.

  "If we aren't going to get my Jeep, I don't need them." His eyes glittered. "I sleep in the nude."

  If he intended to get her all hot and bothered with his little announcement, he succeeded. The thought of his lean body spread out between two cool, crisp sheets was a hell of a lot more enticing than sleeping alone in her pink-trimmed room surrounded by frilly curtains.

  "TMI, Sirocco," she muttered.

  He grinned unrepentantly.

  Damn! She was an independent woman, not some blushing virgin. Definitely not a virgin.

  So why did Nick Sirocco make her feel like a high school nerd with a crush on the star football player?

  Nick shifted, barely containing a moan of discomfort when his shoulder protested the movement. His head, too, was pounding despite the three aspirins he'd taken before going to bed.

  He punched his pillow, willing himself to ignore his body's buzzing and throbbing. If Danni Hawkins was sharing his bed, he had a feeling he wouldn't have any problem getting his mind off his aches and pains. But Danni was sleeping across the hallway with her door closed. She probably had a chair jammed under the doorknob, too, to keep the sex-starved Sirocco out of her bedroom.

  So maybe that wasn't so far from the truth. Nick had little opportunity to meet women, much less date, in his solitary writer's life. In fact, Gus was the only female who'd been in his bed in months. He reached out and encountered Gus's soft fur. The dog was stretched out along his left leg, where she normally slept at home.

  Nick touched the bump on his temple gingerly, wondering for the hundredth time who'd tried to run them down. He'd been going over each and every encounter he'd had at the police department but was unable to come up with a viable suspect.

  Why would someone go to the trouble of making Paddy's death look like a suicide? What had he known that had gotten him killed?

  God, he missed Paddy. He missed the man's common sense and straightforward advice. Paddy was never one to pull a punch if a punch needed to be thrown. He was a firm believer in taking responsibility for your own actions. He would've been the first to tell Nick that the rift between himself and his daughter wasn't the fault of one of them alone, but a combination of their stubborn natures. And Nick could see Paddy in his daughter so easily—the same blunt honesty and wic
ked sense of humor.

  But Danni was a whole lot easier on the eyes than her father.

  He recalled her wet T-shirt and the pebbled nipples beneath it. That sight had been a helluva lot sexier than Miss Bambi lying in her full nude glory on the bed. The jungle temptress hadn't tempted him in the least, but Danni and her drenched shirt...

  Nick felt his erection pressing against his boxers. Despite what he'd told Danni, he always slept in underwear. Maybe he'd just been trying to get a rise out of her—she was so easy to tease. Instead, he'd gotten the rise.

  He stifled a groan.

  If he and Danni were going to remain in each other's space until Paddy's murderer was found, then Nick had better prepare himself for an extended case of blue balls. Then again, he'd been physically attracted to women before, and he'd survived. He suspected he'd survive this frustration, too.

  He thought of ice-cold igloos and hairy-footed hobbits, willing his lust—and a certain body part—to deflate. As his testosterone-charged blood cooled, he wondered how big a mistake he'd made by involving Danni. If she was hurt because he'd asked for her help...

  He wasn't certain his conscience could take any more blows. He'd already failed four men—fellow soldiers and friends. What would happen if he failed Danni, too?

  A low moan sounded, and Gus lifted her head from Nick's leg. The sound had come from Danni's room. Nick listened intently and heard her again, but this time she was speaking. Only he couldn't understand her mumbled words behind the closed door. He debated going in there to see if she was okay.

  "No!"

  Nick shot up out of bed. Ignoring his body's complaints, he raced across the hall. Gus followed him, whining softly as she pressed against Nick's bare legs. The doorknob turned beneath Nick's hand.

  Relief flooded through him when he found her alone and not being attacked.

  "Stay," he told Gus.

  The dog wagged her tail once and plopped down on the hall carpet.

  Nick stepped into Danni's room. In the dim moonlight, he could see her thrashing about on her bed. Her mouth was open in a soundless scream, and Nick reached out toward her, but stopped before his fingers made contact. Bringing someone out of a nightmare was tricky. He knew from experience.

  "Danni, wake up," he urged. "Danni, it's Nick. C'mon, it's just a nightmare. It's not real."

  She continued to murmur, "I'm sorry. I should've—I couldn't—" Danni opened her eyes, panting as if she'd just run a four-minute mile.

  Nick rested his hand on her shoulder, which was damp with fear sweat. "Shhhh, it's okay, Danni. You're safe."

  "Nick?" The timid voice didn't sound anything like the self-assured woman he knew.

  "That's right," he replied softly. "I heard you yelling in your sleep."

  Danni pushed herself upright, and the moonlight reflected in her hair and skin with pale silver brushstrokes. She shoved her sleep-mussed hair back, away from her face. "I'm sorry I woke you. I-I don't usually have nightmares."

  Nick perched on the edge of the mattress. "Mind if I turn on a light?"

  "Go ahead."

  He flicked on the small lamp by her bed and immediately noticed her pallor. Something leapt in the vicinity of his heart. "It's not surprising, considering everything that's happened in the past week."

  A wild curl spilled across her creased brow, and he caught the silkiness between his thumb and forefinger. After rolling the strand between his fingers, he reluctantly released it, ignoring the warm arousal meandering through his veins at the intimacy.

  "I hate it when I lose control," she said, her fists pressed into her thighs.

  "There are some things you can't control, Danni," he said quietly. "Dreams are one of them. Death is another." He glanced out the window as his chest tightened with the memory of those same words being spoken to him. He doubted Danni would heed them any more than he had.

  A satiny palm against his cheek guided his gaze back to her face. "And there are some things we do have control over." She leaned forward, then stopped an inch from his lips, relinquishing control to him.

  Nick's heart hammered in his chest, and he traveled the rest of the distance to her lips, pressing his gently against her sweet, pliant ones. She opened her mouth, granting him access, and he tasted her. Nick moaned deep in his throat. Desire stampeded through his blood. He plunged his hands into her thick hair, the wild tendrils twining around his fingers.

  Danni wrapped her arms around Nick's waist and urged him downward. For a moment, he was afraid he'd combust where her hard nipples dug into his chest... then he hoped he would. He wanted her with almost frightening intensity.

  Her hands crept under his T-shirt, hot and skilled in her exploration of his bare skin. She pinched his nipples, making him gasp with pleasure. He longed to see her eyes, to see the hunger he knew would match his own, but she kept her gaze aimed at his chest.

  "I want you, Sirocco."

  Nick hardly recognized her husky voice, but he did recognize the desperate passion in it. She'd just lost her father, and the nightmare had left her even more emotionally vulnerable.

  He took hold of her wrists to halt her inflaming touches. "No," he said, his voice rough with suppressed desire. "I won't take advantage of you."

  She lifted her head and met his gaze, her face flushed with passion. He'd never seen anything so damned hot.

  "You won't be. I just want to forget. Please help me forget," she whispered.

  Nick's pulse roared in his ears, his too long ignored libido more than willing to accept her invitation. But he had no right to use her vulnerability to appease his physical needs.

  Yet, he understood too well the frantic desire to forget. After he'd been rescued, he'd found too much time to remember. To stop the agonizing memories, he'd spent every spare moment losing himself in alcohol and faceless women. If anybody could understand Danni's need to lose herself in sex, it was him.

  He frowned, remembering his empty wallet. "I don't have any protection."

  "I do. My backpack. Side pocket."

  Nick spotted her bag beside the bed and, cursing his weakness, he leaned over and snagged it. After laying the small foil pack on the extra pillow, he eagerly tugged her baggy shirt off, his hands sliding over the contours of her breasts. Returning to the soft flesh, he captured their fullness in his palms.

  He kissed her lips, then moved to her satiny cheek and down to her smooth jaw. He traced her ear with his tongue and dipped inside to tease and tickle.

  Danni clawed at his shoulders, and he felt the twinge of his pulled muscles, but it was insignificant compared to the other things going on in and around him. Danni caressed his short hair and nibbled his exposed throat.

  It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, and fiery lust nearly incinerated all other thoughts. His boxers rubbed his too-sensitive erection, sending both painful and pleasurable messages to his brain.

  Danni pushed the covers away, revealing smooth, golden skin and baby-blue bikini underwear. Nick took a moment to merely drink in her feminine curves, the gentle indent of her waist, the tempting flare of her hips, and her long, slender legs. His lungs reminded him to breathe, and he drew in gulps of air. Then he skimmed off his T-shirt and underwear and tossed them away.

  Danni's hot gaze settled on Nick's groin, then moved back to his face. She reached for him, her expression filled with a need as great as his. He straddled her, a knee on either side of her hips, and leaned down. His hard penis brushed against her soft belly. He froze, afraid he'd embarrass himself. God, it had been too damned long since he'd made love to a woman. And even longer since he'd been this excited, this anxious to slide into a woman's wet heat.

  To delay the inevitable, he dropped light kisses on her half-masted eyelids, her cute pug nose, her dainty but oh-so-stubborn chin. He continued the line of kisses down her chest, to each breast, to her belly button, and to the elastic waistband of her bikinis. He raised his head as her warm, musky scent tempted and bedeviled him.

&
nbsp; "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

  Nick kissed her navel once more, then divested her of the last cloth barrier between them. He nuzzled the juncture of her thighs, where the scent of her was the keenest. He tasted her, and she arched upward, a cry breaking from her parted lips.

  "Now," Danni said, her tone breathy.

  Unable to resist any longer, he quickly tore open the flat pack, and his fingers fumbled with the latex.

  Nick wanted—no, needed—to go slow. But Danni clearly was ready. She wrapped her willowy legs around his waist and crossed her ankles at his back.

  With a groan of surrender, Nick eased into her. Danni's wet, tight heat encircled him, squeezed him. He couldn't not move, especially when Danni rocked her hips upward, taking him even deeper.

  "Please, Nick, please," she pleaded, the pupils of her eyes nearly obliterating the blue. She raked her nails up and down his back, increasing his need to find release.

  Unable to resist both her words and his body's demands, Nick drew back, then plunged into her. She met him stroke for stroke until she climaxed with a strangled cry. The ripples through her body induced Nick's orgasm, bringing waves of ecstasy crashing through him.

  Nick collapsed but remembered to roll to the side so he wouldn't crush her. He took care of the condom, turned off the lamp, and reached for Danni, who was well on the path back to slumber.

  "Thanks, Nick," she said, her voice husky. She curled against his side, her head resting below his chin and her breath creating moist trails across his chest.

  Sated and feeling strangely protective of the warm bundle in his arms, Nick kissed her crown. "You're welcome, Danni," he whispered tenderly.

  Chapter Five

  Utter silence and a full bladder awakened Nick. It took him a few moments to realign his brain cells and remember where he was. And why.

  A part of him regretted what he'd done, but she'd been so hungry, so passionate. Only a saint could've refused her, and he was no saint.

  The empty side of the bed was cool, telling him Danni had risen some time ago. He glanced at the digital clock radio on the nightstand: 8:03 a.m.

  Damn the woman! Danni had gone alone to meet Sam Richmond for breakfast. After their conversation about sticking together, she'd still gone without him.