A Perfect Storm (22 page)

How crazy was that? She never thought in those terms, but to think of that now, after tangling with a maniac like Terry Janes or his unscrupulous lapdog Carl, defied reason.

Sure, she always enjoyed engaging in a little violence. Blowing off steam sometimes mellowed her. But this was different.

The way Spencer made her feel was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

As she made her way up the sidewalk a few feet more, she sighed. It was past time for her to reclaim her life—in every way.

With Spencer, all things seemed possible. With him, anticipation replaced dread.

He’d be out soon, and she had to decide what to say to him, how to convince him to get down and dirty with her.

Somehow she’d win him over. Tonight.

She didn’t think she could wait any longer.

* * *

E
VERYTHING
HAPPENED
FAST
.

Something whooshed past Spencer’s head, too close for comfort. Settling his chaotic thoughts, he turned to meet the danger. Trusting his gut instincts, listening, feeling the air, he prepared for what would happen. He had no idea who would attack first, but he sensed the trap and was as ready as he could be.

Suddenly thick arms circled him from behind, and he knew it was the beefy bartender. Pinning one of the bartender’s arms to his side, Spencer used his other arm to bring back an elbow hard enough to crack ribs. When he heard the breath leaving his attacker, he took advantage, and in one deft move, flipped him over his shoulder.

The big man landed with a resounding crash.

Emergency lights flickered on, and added to the glow from outside illumination spilling in through the big front window, he could see well enough. The bartender lay unmoving over a broken table. Given the odd angles of one arm and a leg, he wouldn’t be bothering anyone else that night.

It struck Spencer then—he was attacked, so likely Arizona would be a target, too.

To hell with subterfuge.

Breaking out in a sprint, he leapt over and around people, tables and chairs. He shoved through the doorway and into the thick, humid night air. Scanning the area, he finally spotted her down the walkway, just a little too far away.

A second later, Carl stepped out of a dark alley…and reached for Arizona.

No.

Silent, deadly and more focused than he’d ever been, Spencer charged toward her. Neither Arizona nor Carl saw his approach.

But he saw the knife in Carl’s belt, and he prayed he’d reach her in time.

* * *

A
RIZONA
’
S
THOUGHTS
were on seducing Spencer instead of where they should have been, so when she saw the dark, indistinct form growing into a long shadow across the walkway, it took a few seconds for the import to sink in.

Too late to take the offensive against him, Arizona realized it was Carl lurking in the night.

Well, damn. Had he taken the back exit from the bar and circled around to get her? That meant he had to have seen her leave.

And it also meant he’d been watching her…maybe Spencer, too.

If he’d hurt Spencer, so help her, she would demolish him.

As Carl made a grab for her, she played the helpless victim and let him. He snatched her into the alley with hard hands and careless strength, dragging her down to an open door.

He shoved her into a small dilapidated room.

Maybe before all the whiskey shots, she’d have been sharp enough to think of a better plan. Shoot, even two drinks ago she would have been more on game.

But even over the limit, she wasn’t totally lost to skill. She wanted to get close to him.

How else could she hurt him?

Once they were out of sight from spectators, she reacted instinctively to the arm clamped tight across her throat. She went limp, dropping her weight to throw Carl off balance. When he tried to readjust, she grabbed for his fingers and, in a practiced twist, broke two with a satisfying crackle of joints.

That got her turned loose real fast.

With grim satisfaction, she ducked away while Carl let loose a string of rank curses. She knew Spencer wouldn’t want her to fight, but since Carl blocked her way out of the room, she couldn’t exactly tuck her tail and run, now could she?

He left her no choice but to engage in full-go contact.

Awe-some.

Taking a stance, ready, even anxious, Arizona smiled at him.

“You stupid bitch,” Carl said, and with his left hand he pulled a knife from his belt.

Great. He was an ambidextrous fiend? Figured.

Stalking her, backing her farther into the dark room, Carl said, “You thought you had us all fooled, didn’t you?”

She opened her mouth to reply.

But he barked, “Shut up!”

Arizona bit back her smile.

“We saw you fighting. We saw you laughing.”

We who?
She lifted her chin. “So does this mean I’m not hired after all?”

His hand flexed on the knife hilt. “It means you’re not worth the trouble you’ve caused us.”

Foolish man. She knew plenty about knives, so seeing one, even in the hand of a maniac, didn’t send her into a panic like it might someone else. “You’re saying my value as a saleable commodity just collapsed, huh?”

Surprised by her lack of fear and knowledge of their real intent, he hesitated. But only for a second. “You’re not so dumb after all, are you?”

“Well, ya know, compared to
you
…” She grinned, reminding him that she had fooled him and his cronies. “Yeah, I look like a freakin’ genius, right?”

Holding his injured hand out to the side, he flexed his muscles. “You think this is a joke?”

Her back bumped up to a damp wall. “I think
you’re
a joke, yeah.”

A deep, angry breath swelled his chest. “You’re going to regret that flippant mouth, girl.”

Arizona took in Carl’s aggressive stance and dark scowl, felt his mood change as he prepared to lunge at her.

Time to make a move.

Dropping her voice and her chin, looking at him through her lashes, she whispered, “And here I thought you liked my mouth.” To emphasize the suggestiveness of that, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, leaving them moist.

That distracted him enough that he said, “I can think of better uses for it.”

Men were
sooo
easy, thank God. Slowly, Arizona trailed her fingers over her chest and down into her cleavage. “I bet I could come up with all kinds of uses that you’d approve of.”

Putting his attack on hold, he eyed her. “Is that right?”

She nodded, but he was busy ogling her boobs. She stepped away from the wall. “Maybe if I’m good enough—and, Carl? I can be
really
good—well, then, maybe I can convince you not to kill me?”

“Let’s find out.” Seeing her as no threat at all, he took a step closer. “Take off your shirt.”

You’d think he would have learned from the broken fingers.

Arizona caught the hem of her top. “You want me naked? Here?”

Anticipating her nudity, he adjusted his hold on the knife, and his gaze went to her body. Murmuring low, he promised, “I will tear your shit up.”

Arizona smiled, prepared to attack—and Spencer’s fist came out of nowhere. It struck Carl in the jaw so hard, a tooth came spewing out.

Euewwww.

Deciding it’d be a good time to move, she slipped a few feet along the wall and away from Spencer’s rage.

And he was enraged. Big-time.

Would he kill Carl? She tipped her head to survey the damage already done. Spencer held up the smaller man with one fist twisted in the front of his shirt while punching him with the other big fist. Carl’s knife lay on the ground. His legs were limp, his grunts of pain dwindling.

“Hey, Spence.”

He ignored her and landed yet another blow. Blood sprayed from Carl’s nose. He hung boneless, unconscious, in Spencer’s hold.

“Yoo-hoo, Spe-ence,” she sang. “I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but we did hear sirens, right? You think we should get going before the cops find us here?”

Fist suspended, he stopped hitting Carl, but his chest still heaved. Rage had bunched his muscles through his biceps, shoulders and across his back. He stood with his legs braced apart, his feet planted solidly.

Ah, he looked so sweet. All that rage on her behalf.

Arizona smiled at his back. “It’s been a really great show. Seriously. I mean, nothing I couldn’t have handled myself, of course, but—”

He jerked around to glare at her.

His nostrils were flared, his eyes glittering, his jaw clenched tight as granite.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t pull the tiger’s tail just now.

Gently, she suggested, “Maybe you could take me home?”

On the other side of the wall, police barked orders. They heard the thumping of running feet and the clash of a tackle. Outside, a window broke, a car horn blared.

“Any second now, someone is going to come busting in on us. And then we’ll have to start explaining.” Hoping to reach him, she added, “The guys really hate having to give explanations.”

More breaking glass. More horns. More shouts.

Never looking away from her, Spencer exhaled, opened his fingers, and Carl collapsed in a bloody heap.

“There you go!” Arizona praised him. “And look at that. You even managed to drop him on his knife so we don’t have to worry about anyone else finding it before the cops do. Good job.”

Oh-so-slowly, Spencer stepped away from the carnage once known as Carl.

“Come on.” She said it the same way someone would call a pet. “Come on, Spence. Let’s go.” Patting her thigh as she backed up to the door, she beckoned him.

Brows pulling tighter, Spencer closed his eyes for a few deep breaths, then opened them again. Through stiff lips, he ordered, “Wait.” He moved around her to the door, looked out, then said, “Start walking.”

“Got it.” Feeling lighthearted, a little drunk and sort of…euphoric, Arizona twirled around and marched ahead.

Part of her silly mood came from recognizing, and accepting, that Spencer was the right guy for her. Not just as an ally. Not only for a friend.

He impressed her. She respected him. And she admired everything about him—but especially his ability.

She wanted him in ways she’d thought long lost to her.

She wanted him as a man.

Tonight, if she played her cards right, she just might manage to get lucky.

* * *

W
ELL
AWAY
FROM
THE
BAR
—a few feet in front of him—Spencer watched Arizona skipping along in a drunken trot. He flexed his fists, expanding and contracting his bruised knuckles. All the volatile emotion he’d felt tonight still churned inside him. He wanted to tear apart everyone involved…while Arizona smiled like a kid at a carnival.

Keeping her within reach, while not yet touching her, and constantly scanning the area, he called Dare. The ringing stopped, but Dare said nothing. “It’s Spencer.”

“Done playing around?”

“Carl’s in a room off the alley to the right of the front door.”

“You immobilized him, right?”

That was a nice way to put it, but Spencer said only, “Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I went a little overboard on him.”

“No doubt he had it coming.”

Spencer saw no reason to explain that Carl had dared to pull a knife on Arizona, that he’d threatened her life.

Or that she’d been in the process of bartering sex to gain the upper hand.

“I should have killed him.”

Dare said, “We need him alive to answer questions. Get her out of here. I won’t be far behind you.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Spencer caught up with Arizona, anxious to ensure her safety. “Get in the truck.”

She nodded but said, “That was
so
fucking awesome, Spencer. A night I’ll never forget. I’m almost giddy, you know?”

He couldn’t look at her. “In the truck, Arizona.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” She laughed as she turned to walk backward, watching him. “Smell the rain?” She flung her arms out wide and inhaled deeply. “Seems appropriate that it’d storm again, doesn’t it?”

A storm for Arizona Storm? When she tripped, he caught her arm to keep her from falling.

She snugged herself up to him. “You impressed me, Spence, and that’s not easy to do.”

He sighed. God, what would he do with her?

Probably not what he wanted.

Unless… He eyed her, saw the daze in her eyes and knew she was too drunk. No, definitely not what he wanted.

“Stop looking so morose, you grumpy Gus.” She nudged him. “Everything is fine!”