Against the Law (6 page)

While Dev went to speak to the receptionist, Lark found herself wandering toward the sandbox, where several children were busy drawing designs in the sand.

“That's very good,” she said to a little, cocoa-skinned boy about five years old who had drawn some sort of dragon.

His grin went ear-to-ear. “That's Barney. He's a dinosaur.”

“Oh, yes, now I see. I should have recognized him right away.”

The little boy laughed, pleased, she thought, and dashed over to say something to a little girl with pigtails so pale they looked silver.

“The Fellowses are out of town,” Dev said as he returned. “Mrs. Neidemeyer fills in when they're away. She'll be out to speak to us as soon as she gets off the phone.”

Lark looked back at the children. She had always loved kids.

“You like children,” Dev said, following her gaze back to the sandbox.

“I do. Someday I'd like to have a family. Just not right away.” She looked up at him, suddenly curious. “And you? I don't suppose kids are in your plans for the future.”

“I wouldn't mind having a couple—if I didn't need a wife in order to get them.”

She laughed and shook her head, not surprised and somewhat relieved. Marriage was not in her plans anywhere in the near future, either. She glanced around, spotted an attractive dark-haired woman in her forties walking toward them.

“Hello, I'm Mrs. Neidemeyer,” the woman said. “Karen tells me you wish to see me.”

“Actually, we're looking for Benedict and Mary Fellows,” Dev said. “I understand they work here.”

“They manage the Los Angeles region, but I'm afraid they aren't in today. They had some business to take care of out of town. They're due back in tomorrow. I believe Mary will be in first thing.”

“And Benedict?” Dev asked.

“Well, ah, Ben usually works out of his home office.”

“And that would be up on Prospect Drive,” Dev said, the address Chaz had given them.

Mrs. Neidemeyer's dark eyebrows pulled together as she tried to understand how he knew and where this was
leading. “I presume you and your…wife are interested in child care?”

Lark opened her mouth to say no and felt a faint nudge in the ribs.

“Yes, we are,” Dev said, casting her a loving glance that looked more pained than real. “We're very eager to speak to the Fellowses.”

“As I said, they'll be back tomorrow. Mary will be working here and Mr. Fellows is always available if he's needed.”

“He must be very conscientious,” Dev said with only a hint of sarcasm.

“Why, yes, he is.”

“And his wife is that way, as well?” Lark pressed. “Oh, yes.”

Apparently, the Fellowses could do no wrong. Lark was beginning to see how her grandparents had been duped. It was going to be interesting to meet Benedict and Mary Fellows.

“Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Neidemeyer,” Dev said.

“Perhaps you'd like to leave your number so I could have Mrs. Fellows call you when she comes in.”

“I think we'll just drop by.” Dev nudged Lark toward the door. They left the child care center and returned to the car.

“What did you think?” Lark asked as Dev started the engine and they pulled out onto the street.

“Too soon to tell. Place looks well run. Efficient. Clean. The kids seemed to be well-supervised and happy.”

“That's good, isn't it? Maybe the Fellowses or Olcotts or whatever they're calling themselves aren't as bad as we think. Maybe they actually were concerned about the placement of Heather's baby.”

“Maybe.”

But the set of Dev's jaw made it clear he didn't think so.

And Lark was beginning to trust his instincts.

“W
e need to find a hotel.” Just saying it made him think of sex with Lark. It was crazy, this constant lust he felt for her, but there was just something about her. Those long legs and that perfect ass, the sexy way she moved, the way her green eyes seemed to sparkle, even the way she smelled. Everything about her turned him on.

“We don't need a hotel,” Lark said. “We can stay at my place. There's plenty of room, and it'll give me a chance to check on things and water my plants.”

His mouth edged up and he slanted her a glance. “You sure you can trust me?”

She looked back at him and smiled. “Any reason I shouldn't?”

Plenty of reasons, he thought. Like he wanted to see her naked. Like he wanted to climb into bed with her. Like what he wanted to do to her once he was there.

“I guess not.” He looked away at the lie, used the turn
signal and changed lanes. “Downtown, right? What's the address?”

“Five hundred block of South Hewitt. It's in the Arts District not far from where our design studio is located. If you don't mind, I'll give you directions. I don't think I can stand any more of Gretchen.”

He chuckled. “Not a problem. She gets on my nerves sometimes, too.” Turning off the nav system, he settled back, preferring the sound of Lark's voice to the harsh tones of the Nazi pathfinder.

They drove through traffic, which was getting pretty heavy this late in the afternoon, and finally exited off the 101 into downtown traffic. Eventually, they reached their destination, an address on Hewitt Street.

“Pull into the underground garage,” Lark instructed as they approached a huge, remodeled, five-story brick warehouse. “Use space forty-two B. That's my second parking spot.”

Dev pulled into the space beside forty-two A, next to a little silver Mercedes coupe. “That yours?”

“It's mine.”

“I guess you've got a few toys of your own.”

She just smiled. “I've also got a Jet Ski and a sail-board, but I keep them at the beach.”

He flicked her a glance as he turned off the engine, impressed in spite of himself. He enjoyed all kinds of sports but he was rarely attracted to athletic women. With her tight jeans and spike heels, Lark completely had him fooled.

“My condo's on the second floor,” she said. “The elevator's this way.”

The five-story building had been converted into two floors of open, loft-style condominiums, he discovered, as Lark unlocked the door and he followed her into her unit.

“Wow.” His gaze went from the tall windows to the open ceilings crisscrossed with the original heavy wooden rafters and exposed round silver heating and cooling ducts.

“It's different, I know.”

The original warehouse hardwood floors were polished to a glossy sheen. The big, open, ultramodern kitchen had sparkling white cabinets contrasted by black granite countertops.

“I like it,” he said. “It's interesting.” Basic white accented with brilliant colors, from the contemporary artwork on the walls to the shag throw rugs in geometric designs on the floor. The sofa and chairs were white with a mountain of throw pillows in scarlet, yellow, orange and purple.

Now that he'd seen it, with her vibrant energy and sense of style, he couldn't imagine her living anywhere else.

“The guest room is this way.” Lark took off down the hall and Dev followed.

There were two guest rooms, he discovered, each with its own separate bath. There was a queen-size bed in one and two twins in the other. She led him into the room with the queen and he tossed his bag on top of a brilliant purple patterned bedspread.

“Nice,” he said, allowing his gaze to wander.

“You don't mind the purple?”

He shrugged. The rest of the room was blond wood furniture, beige walls, and a thick, beige shag throw rug. There were a few purple accents here and there but it wasn't overwhelming. “You did a nice job.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Where's your room?” he asked, wishing he'd be sleeping in there instead of in here and knowing damned well he wouldn't be.

“Next door.” She caught his hand and tugged him farther down the hall, through a door leading into an airy open-ceilinged area. She turned, surveying the room. “What do you think?”

After seeing the rest of the house, it was not what he expected. And yet in a way it was. An iron four-poster king-size bed covered by a fluffy white down comforter dominated the room, with embroidered white sheets, a matching dust ruffle, iron headboard and miles of plump white embroidered pillows.

He looked at the bed, looked at Lark, and the blood in his veins rushed south. He could almost see her naked, propped up on one of those pillows with her legs spread while he did wicked things to her with his mouth. Or maybe he would turn her over, prop up that luscious ass—

“Well?”

He took a calming breath. “Very feminine. I should be surprised since the rest of the house is so contemporary, but somehow I'm not.”

One of her sleek dark eyebrows arched up. “Why not?”

He could hardly say that from the start he'd had her
figured as a very feminine, very passionate woman. One he wanted in the very worst way.

“Instinct,” he said. “It's part of the job.”

They were both standing in the doorway. When she turned, he realized she was closer than he thought. He could smell her soft perfume, a fragrance he had noticed before, lilac with a subtle hint of spice. It suited her, feminine yet zesty and full of life. He breathed her in and his arousal strengthened.

Lark stood so close he could see the tiny pulse beating at the base of her throat. In heels, she was as tall as he was. If he leaned over just a little, moved the slightest fraction, he could settle his mouth over those plump pink lips, taste them as he had been wanting to do since the day she'd walked out on his patio.

Her eyes locked with his. Her lashes were thick and dark, and they began to slowly descend. He bent toward her, inhaled lilacs and spice, felt his erection throb. She was breathing hard and so was he.

Then his cell phone started to chime and he jerked away as if someone had dumped a kettle of scalding water over his head.

He cleared his throat and backed away, turned and walked off down the hall toward the open living room. He swallowed, tried to slow his heart rate. “Raines,” he said hoarsely as he answered the call, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hey, Daredevil.” His Ranger nickname. “It's Clive. Word is you're in L.A.”

Dev closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Madman. How'd you know where to find me?”

“Talked to Town. He said you flew in. I guess you're with Lark.”

He thought of what had almost happened in her bedroom and thanked the cell phone gods for the timing of Madman's call.

“We're following a lead. We found the people who arranged the adoption of her sister's baby. We're talking to them tomorrow. All we have to do is get them to give us the couple's name.”

“Might not be that easy. Those folks can be sticklers.”

He thought of the babies they'd sold and his tone hardened. “We've got enough on them to make them talk whether they want to or not.”

Madman chuckled. “Sounds like fun. Need any help? Be just like old times.”

“Yeah, well, thank God those times are over.”

Clive's deep voice roughened. “Listen, Dev. Lark's a nice girl. I know she's hot, but believe me, she's not your type. I don't want to see her get hurt.”

“I don't mix business with pleasure. You know that.”

“You're right, I do. That's the reason I'm not worried. She needs your help, Dev. Finding that baby is really important to her.”

“I know. We'll find her.”

“I knew I could count on you. Listen, Molly and I were wondering if you two might want to meet someplace for dinner. It's been a while and you haven't met my wife.” There was something there when Clive said
wife,
something intimate and possessive Dev had never heard before.

“To tell you the truth, I didn't know you were married until Lark told me. What's up with that?”

“Damn, I thought you knew. Sorry, buddy. I guess I was afraid of the competition.”

Dev chuckled. “Dinner sounds good. We're at Lark's place downtown.”

“I know where she lives. Molly used to live next door. There's a restaurant, the Strip House. It's walking distance from the condo. Great steak and seafood. How about we meet there at seven? Give us time for a drink.”

“Sounds good.” Dev turned to Lark. “Dinner with Clive and Molly?”

She smiled and nodded.

“All right,” he said to Clive, “we'll see you there.” Dev ended the call and looked up to see Lark eyeing him with interest.

“You don't mix business with pleasure?”

He shook his head. “Never. It's a rule I don't break.”

“Then what just happened in there?” She tipped her head toward the bedroom. What
had
happened? He'd damn near gotten exactly what he had been wanting. “Moment of weakness. It won't happen again.”

“You sure?”

He thought of the consequences of sleeping with a client and how screwed up things could get, thought of Madman and the debt he had not yet repaid. “Damned sure.”

“I see.”

But of course she didn't see at all. She thought he didn't really want her, that resisting her would be easy. He wished he could tell her the lust he felt for her was way out of all proportion. That wanting her the way he did was driving him crazy.

“Are we going to the Strip House? That's one of Clive's favorite places.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I guess I'd better go shower and change.”

His mouth went dry. He imagined Lark naked in the shower, water cascading over her upturned breasts…

She sauntered toward him, lightly brushed against him as she passed. “Too bad you don't mix business with pleasure.” Without looking back, she turned and sashayed back down the hall.

Dev watched the sway of that great ass and silently cursed Madman Monroe.

 

Lark wondered if it could really be that simple. She was his client. Dev didn't get involved with his clients. It made sense, she supposed. The man was, after all, a professional.

Which, in the time they had been working together, had become crystal-clear. From the way he handled an interview, to the endless stream of information he seemed able to come up with, as well as the focus he showed in following a lead.

Thinking of the single moment in her bedroom when he had let down his guard, she smiled. He might be a
professional, but he was an extremely virile man, and now she knew he wasn't completely immune to her.

Her mind strayed to the dimple that occasionally popped into his cheek. The man was already as tempting as ten pounds of chocolate. As handsome as sin and a body that made her stomach quiver. The dimple was completely over the top.

It reminded her of the male models she dealt with in her business, most either gay or so in love with themselves it made her nauseous. To her, pretty boys weren't the least attractive.

Then again, even with the dimple, it was hard to think of Devlin Raines as a pretty boy. His jaw was too hard, his dark eyebrows too slashing, his cheekbones a little too carved. The man was a full-blooded male, no question about it. And she was wildly attracted to him.

Still, in a way she was grateful that his personal set of rules made her off-limits. She wouldn't mind a few nights of shared passion, but she was afraid a few nights with Dev Raines might not be enough. She couldn't afford that, couldn't afford to get involved in any sort of relationship.

Better to ignore the attraction, keep their association exactly as it was.

Lark finished her shower and dried her dark hair, fluffing it into the wispy, upturned style that she favored. Next she applied her makeup, choosing pale green eye shadow that complemented her eyes and her favorite fuchsia pink lipstick. From the bathroom, she walked into her closet to pick out something to wear.

A short black skirt, a hot-pink top and strappy silver
spike heels. She changed purses, choosing a smaller, black-and-pink fabric bag with a silver chain handle, one of last year's LARK designs.

Big silver earrings and an oversize pink rhinestone bracelet and she was ready for the evening.

“What time is it?” she asked as she walked down the hall to the living room.

Dev rose from his place on the sofa. He looked great in tan slacks, an open-collared blue-and-tan pinstriped shirt and a navy-blue Armani blazer. She'd noticed the seven-hundred-dollar Italian loafers he wore with his designer jeans, and gave him high marks for his taste in clothes.

For several seconds he didn't move.

“It's a quarter to seven,” he finally said, his gaze running over her from to head to toe, his eyes as blue and hot as the tip of a flame. “God, you've got great legs.”

Her pulse kicked up. She grinned, turned in a circle to give him a better view. “Thanks.” He might have his own set of rules, but so did she, and there was nothing to prevent her from having a little fun at his expense.

Dev walked toward her. “I want to take you to bed,” he said. “But then you must know that.”

Her breathing quickened. A little unnerved by so much masculinity standing so close, she took a step backward. “Actually, I wasn't really sure.”

“It isn't going to happen. I don't do business that way.”

She shifted a little, straightened. “Good. Then I won't have to worry about it.”

He cocked a dark eyebrow. “Were you? Worried, I mean?”

“I thought maybe you were gay and I was just reading you wrong,” she teased.

“I'm not gay.”

Dear God, there was no chance of that. “I didn't really think so. My instincts in that regard are usually spot-on.” She slung the chain strap over her shoulder, backed up a little more. Now that he had admitted his attraction, she felt oddly out of control. “Shall we go? I know how you hate being late.”