Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (4 page)

Rachel hesitated. How much did this man
actually know about her encounter with Hawke? “Mr. Hawke and I have
met.”

“Yes, I know.” A note of arrogance slipped
through his response. “I don’t understand your hesitancy.”

Rachel sighed. Either he didn’t know the
whole story or he did and chalked it up to rock star drama. Still,
she tread carefully. “We met last night under some very ... unusual
circumstances. Trust me, after last night’s fiasco, you should be
surprised he wants to hire me.”

A loud thunk pierced her left eardrum.
O..kay… Apparently there were several things he didn’t know. She
squinted one eye and held the phone at arm’s length until he
spoke.

“Ms. Newberry, we would really appreciate an
appointment.”

Another wave of nausea crested in her
esophagus. She swallowed hard, desperate to get him off the phone.
“If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

“Fine. I’ll meet him after hours.” Rachel
scribbled Greg’s name on her calendar. “Six o’clock this
evening.”

“We’ll take it. Hawke and his security
manager will be there.”

Rachel returned the receiver to the cradle
and threw her head back against her chair, only to regret the rapid
movement. She squeezed her eyes closed and begged her stomach to
behave. Why on Earth had she been so agreeable to meet Hawke? And
now what? By now the bouncer had filled him in on all the
excitement. Rachel groaned. How was she supposed to know Hawke
planned to hire her? She pressed her palms to her forehead and took
a deep breath.

Wait a minute.

Cameron was probably right, the beefy
bodyguard was much more than muscle. Now she was certain they’d
checked her out. And the manager, what’s-his-name- she leaned
forward and checked her calendar – Greg Huntington. He mentioned a
referral from another client. So, had Hawke planned to hire her
before the concert?

She reached for the aspirin near the
computer. Whatever his reasoning, she was stuck now. Besides, even
if she did call and cancel, Cameron would reschedule. In fact,
Cameron would welcome the opportunity to flex her muscle at both
Hawke and his bodyguard. Rachel released a heavy sigh. Hawke just
didn’t realize how lucky he was that he’d caught her at a weak
moment.

***

Lt. Jaydon Hawke twirled the business card
through his fingers as Cpt. Max Sterling drove him to meet the
mysterious Rachel Newberry. After the unexpected events of the last
twenty four hours, he wasn’t sure quite what to expect. The sexy
woman he had encountered last night was a total surprise. Where was
the meek and plain architect that had been secretly followed and
photographed? He hadn’t been as prepared as he’d thought.

Part of him wanted to believe she arranged
the after-hours meeting for personal reasons. After all, they
hadn’t had an opportunity to talk much at the show. Or at Harley’s.
But then, Greg mentioned her hesitance at meeting at all. Almost as
if she had no intention of ever seeing him again. Hawke scrubbed a
hand over his jaw, aggravated by the question marks assaulting his
brain.

“Take it easy, Hawke. Stick to the plan.
You’re just supposed to seduce her, like always.”

Max’s booming command caused Hawke to shove
his thoughts of Rachel to the side and at least attempt to appear
smooth. “What makes you think I’m planning anything more?” Hawke
shrugged.

“She’s a suspect and I have to do whatever it
takes to get close to her.”

“Something else is going on in that thick
skull of yours.”

“Just strategy.”

“If you say so.”

“She’s not what I expected.”

“They never are.”

“No, really. According to her profile, she
hardly ever leaves the office, she has one close friend, and she
rarely socializes.”

“So?”

“So why the hell was she at the concert?”

“We lured her there, remember?”

Hawke weighed that fact. True, they had
approached her client with concert tickets, hoping he would pass
them to her. “We provided the bait, but why did she accept?”

“I think the blonde hellcat had something to
do with that.”

Hawke snickered. “That is highly
possible.”

“You know as well as I do criminals don’t
advertise.”

“She doesn’t fit the prototype.”

“You’ve spent too many hours behind a
computer, Hawke. I think there’s more to it.”

Hawke folded his arms across his chest. “Oh
yeah? Then, please, fill me in.”

“Seems to me you’re caught up in your cover.
She’s a young, beautiful piece of tail who didn’t kiss your ass.
You want to find out why and change her mind.”

“Gee-zus, Max, she’s a mark!”

Max raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.

Hawke opened his mouth to argue then decided
against it. Max knew the score. Screw the assignment. Rachel’s
rejection stung. Not because she wasn’t interested – she was
interested, her body had betrayed her in that regard – but because
she wouldn’t give him a chance.

Max pulled into the nearest parking space.
Hawke crammed on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses and waited for
Max to open his door. After Max circled the vehicle twice in his
routine check for anything unusual, they sauntered through the
front door of the office building.

Max nodded at the security officer seated
behind a row of monitors and then steered him onto the waiting
elevator. Within the next 30 seconds, the heavy metal elevator door
opened, depositing them just outside a closed office door. Hawke
glanced at the nameplate. Newberry & Tremaine.

Max gave him a sideways glance. “You ready
for this?”

Hawke grinned. Nothing, not even a cold metal
zipper could keep him out. “Hell yeah.”

Max grasped the doorknob, strolled into the
office, and then nodded for Hawke to enter.

Two steps inside, Hawke stopped short when he
caught sight of an amazing heart-shaped ass covered in what
appeared to be red silk waving hello from the reception desk. Hawke
raised his glasses and looked at Max. Sorry sucker was zeroed in on
the same thing.

Hawke replaced his glasses and cleared his
throat. Max grinned.

“Hold your horses.” Muffled by the position,
the voice at the other end released a heavy dose of sass into the
room. “I dropped my earring and it rolled down here somewhere. Oh,
here it is!”

As soon as the figure stood and faced them,
Hawke knew this would be an interesting meeting.

The tiny blonde with the gorgeous rack
pocketed a gold hoop earring and gave her skirt a tug. “May I—” Her
voice suddenly broke in mid-sentence. “Holy cow.”

Hawke flipped through his mental rolodex.
Karen? Kelley?

“Cameron Tremaine.” She stuck out her hand
and grinned. “And you are Jaydon Hawke.”

“Hawke.” He shifted and accepted her
outstretched hand, surprised she didn’t seem bothered that both he
and Max could probably describe her lingerie in great detail.

“Okay, then, Hawke.” The devil danced in her
eyes as she flicked a gaze toward the back corner office. “Rachel’s
on the phone. She’ll be right with you.”

“Thank you.”

Cameron’s ever-present grin remained glued on
her face as she turned to Max. “And since you’ve already manhandled
me, I guess I should get your name.”

“Max.”

“Max …” she hesitated, obviously expecting
him to give his last name.

“Just Max.”

“Oh come on, big guy,” she taunted. “Even
prisoners give their name, rank and serial number.”

Hawke wasn’t sure if it was the thought of
her panties or not, but his blood pressure rose a few degrees.
Nobody, women included, challenged Max. His size alone discouraged
it. Yet this one, petite, blue-eyed bombshell didn’t appear to give
a damn.

“Behave, Cameron.”

Another wave of heat rippled his skin as he
turned to see who dared tame the sassy lioness. Relief unknotted
his stomach muscles when he saw Rachel Newberry, the same dragon
slayer who had conquered the fiery jaws of his metal zipper.

“Mr. Hawke, we meet again.”

As he grasped her outstretched hand, Hawke
took a second to consider his strategy while his shaded eyes
bounced between the two women. Should he leave Max with Cameron?
His first thought was to reschedule, exit stage left, and run.
Except that Cameron stood between him and the door and there was
just something about her that, well, scared him. Instead, he waited
for Rachel to say something. But she didn’t.

So he played it smooth and stroked the back
of her hand with his thumb. “Ms. Newberry.”

She squeezed then extracted her hand. “Come
on into my office and we’ll review your plans.”

Hawke glanced at Max then cleared his throat.
“You gonna be okay out here?”

Max folded his arms across his chest. “I’m
not going anywhere, Hawke.”

Convinced Max had everything under control,
Hawke turned and followed Rachel down the hall, tantalized by the
sway of her curvy hips.

A sense of dread pooled in Max’s stomach as
he watched Hawke disappear into the back office. He shifted his
eyes to the blonde poltergeist hovering next to him.

“So,” she said in the baited silence, “we
meet again also.”

He moved his head about two millimeters to
the left, not offering friendly conversation.

“You would have to be the strong silent
type,” she mumbled as she sat on the sofa. She patted the cushion
beside her. “You might as well make yourself comfortable. They’ll
be awhile.”

Max looked from the sofa, to the front door,
and back at her.

She rolled her baby blues. “I won’t
bite.”

He bit back a threatened grin. Probably not.
But who said it was her he was worried about? Fully dressed in a
short business skirt that he knew from experience hid some very
biteable thighs, she still excited him. The shoes she wore today
once again added height and screamed take me. He swallowed, lost in
thought. If she were standing there naked in the high heels, a
strand of pearls hanging around her slender neck, he just might
possibly latch his mouth onto her and brand her.

He smiled a slow, easy grin. “I might.”

She gave him a full pouty smile. One he
wanted to kiss right off her face. “You wish.”

She didn’t know how true her statement really
was but Max wasn’t ready to share that fact.

“So, you’re the hired muscle.” She crossed
her tiny feet with blood-red polished toenails and propped one
elbow against the back of the couch.

Max turned his attention to the third button
of her blouse, the one no longer fastened. The same one that
revealed a flash of red lace.
Hell’s bells
. What was with
this woman and her lingerie? Then again, the lingerie was just a
front. His first-hand knowledge of what rested beneath the lacey
disguise shaped his thinking at this very point in time.

When her fingers pushed the button back
through the slot, he raised his eyes. “Yeah.”

He waited for her to blast him for ogling
her. Instead, she continued their conversation as if she didn’t
even notice.

“Don’t worry, this place is a fortress.”

“Really.” Max refocused his attention.
“Security didn’t even budge when we came up.”

She didn’t appear surprised by his
accusation. “Rachel cleared you. Besides, security makes allowances
for her clients. They assume there is a bodyguard in tow.”

“What about cameras?”

“We don’t have them in here, but the building
is covered.”

“Are all the doors secured?”

She didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she
studied her nails, as if bored with his interrogation. “You’re
obsessed.”

“It’s my job.”

She narrowed her eyes until they resembled a
Siamese cat on the prowl. “Is Hawke in some sort of danger?”

Max chuckled at her suspicion. She was sharp.
“The only thing Hawke is in danger of are overzealous
groupies.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Rachel is
definitely not a groupie.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

He peered over the top of his glasses and
waited for her to answer his unvoiced request for explanation.

Her cheeks actually pinkened but her gaze
never wavered from his. “Desperate times, desperate measures, and
all that jazz,” she mumbled.

***

Rachel motioned to a chair beside her desk
then sat in her own. Hawke spun the chair around and straddled
it.

“Would you like me to dim the lights?” she
asked, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

He tilted his head in confusion.

“Your sunglasses,” she explained.

Hawke grinned at her humor and removed the
glasses. “Ms. Newberry–“

Soft green eyes full of sincerity caressed
his when she spoke. ”Rachel, please. After all, I think we’re past
polite introductions.”

“Rachel then,” he amended. “You didn’t stick
around last night.”

She studied him for a moment, then folded her
hands and gave him a half smile. “Can we just pretend last night
never happened?”

He paused to consider her question. Could she
forget about the interaction between them? Crouched between his
legs, her hands dangerously close to giving them both a night to
remember didn’t even leave an impression?

“You really want to forget about that?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Most definitely.
And I can honestly say I’ve never been in that position
before.”

“I have,” he mumbled.

Rachel’s mouth dropped open and Hawke
realized too late what had just slipped from his lips. Yet even in
her state of shock, electricity crackled between them. Her soft,
pale facial features taunted him, dared him to run his thumb across
her full, pouty bottom lip. Her clear, emerald eyes reminded him of
a prowling tigress and reached deep into his soul to steal his
thoughts.

“Well,” She cleared her throat. “Tell me
about your plans.”