Slow Heat (3 page)

“Saints preserve me,” she grumbled under her breath, then crossed herself and blew out an exasperated sigh as she headed out of her office. Max knew he wasn’t allowed to have friends in the kitchen while he was working.

“Max,” she said, using his name as a warning when she stared at the tall, dark-haired man facing Max from across the large, cutting board counter. She’d put her foot down on anyone showing up and hanging out in the kitchen. The club couldn’t afford to hand out free meals to everyone who decided Max was their best friend.

“He showed up at the back door with some questions.” Max stuck his chin out stubbornly and turned to stir something that smelled strongly of garlic and oregano. Max was making his famous spaghetti sauce, one of Uncle Larry’s favorite food items.

Maggie’s stomach almost growled its appreciation. One of the upsides of being the accountant at Club Paradise was Max’s incredible cooking. He could have been a four-star chef, but being a felon made it hard for him to find work. They were lucky to have him at Club Paradise. The club’s reputation for good food had helped keep them afloat during its rough times.

“Who are you?” Maggie crossed her arms, possibly more as a shield than out of frustration. The man she stared at was incredibly sexy. There was something in his eyes that bothered her, though. They were a soft brown, and his lashes and eyebrows were a thick black. The lashes didn’t quite hide the way his eyes appeared doused with danger. “What questions do you have?”

“I’m looking for Larry,” the guy said, his deep baritone crisp and a bit too confident.

“Larry isn’t back here. This is the kitchen. Larry would be up front. Are you lost?”

She watched something spark in his brown eyes. “And you didn’t say your name.”

“You’re right.” He didn’t look like a vagrant wanting free food, or in need of a job. He looked healthy, very healthy, and dangerous. “Are you a cook also?” he asked, walking around Max’s prep counter then between the stocking shelves.

“I work here and you don’t.” No matter how big or how muscular this man appeared, Maggie had had her fair share of dealing with bullies. She wasn’t easily daunted or intimidated. Coming from a large family, Maggie had learned at an early age to stand her ground, or she’d never get what she wanted. “Tell me your name, why you’re here, and what you want—or leave.”

He didn’t appear interested in anything on the shelves where cooking supplies were stocked but reached the end of the aisle and turned, then stopped when she blocked him.

The top of Maggie’s head probably wouldn’t have touched this man’s nose. He was tall. And muscular, damn! When she stared at him straight on, she got an eyeful of roped muscle pressing against his T-shirt. Where his shirtsleeves ended, corded biceps began. He had a tan and she noticed a couple small puckers, old scars remaining from some previous trauma in his life. She imagined him fighting like a mercenary late at night in some loading dock against bad guys.

“If you want to go out front you can leave the way you came and walk around the building.” She again crossed her arms, but this time felt the solid beat of her heart grow stronger against her chest. “The back door is that way.” She nodded in the direction of the door, proud of herself for not trembling as adrenaline started pumping through her.

He glanced at her for only a moment before looking over her shoulder. Maggie couldn’t physically stop him and wasn’t sure touching him would be to her advantage. The way he brushed against her when he walked past suggested he wanted her doing just that.

“Is there a place we can talk?” he asked and took determined steps toward her office.

“Stop, now!” she ordered, hurrying after him and grabbing the door, then damn near skidding in front of him before facing him again.

The amusement in his eyes pissed her off. Who the hell was this guy?

“Anything you want me to do?” Max asked from behind the man. His voice was a lot deeper and meaner than he usually sounded.

“I don’t know yet, Max,” she said, focusing on the man facing her. She caught him glancing down her body before meeting her gaze. No way would she look away, but she was very grateful for Max being close, just in case. “Who do you think you are prancing in here as if you had a right?”

The man stepped closer, moving into her space, and lowered his head so that when he spoke, his breath tickled her skin. “Because criminals don’t have rights. The police are going to be here any minute.”

Oh God! This man really was dangerous. The law was looking for him and he had to choose her place to hide. Maggie had to think fast. She hadn’t made the deposit yet. No way in hell would he take her and Max hostage. Not if she could outthink him.

“Why are they coming here?” she asked, trying to match his cool, soft tone.

“They’re about to make an arrest.” Now he looked amused, as if her question were ludicrous.

Maybe it was. Hell, she didn’t have a clue how to talk to a criminal.

“Oh really?” she asked, wondering how for-real this man was. “And you sauntered into the back door of my kitchen just to tell me that?”

“Your kitchen? I thought Larry Santinos ran this place.”

“He does.” She didn’t need to explain herself to him, and apparently the look on her face made that clear.

The buzzer next to her desk went off, letting her know someone had just come in the front door. She turned, glancing at it, and shifted her attention to the small box next to her phone. A second later it beeped, letting her know it was Larry who was here.

“Who do they want to arrest?” she asked, trying for a different tactic.

“Is that telling you Larry is here?” the man asked, nodding at the devices on her desk.

“That’s enough.” She pointed behind him. “Turn around and march out that door. Now.”

“I will in a minute.”

When he reached for his back pocket, Max moved faster than Maggie had ever seen the man move. For a giant black man, his looks could intimidate. But in the year and a half that he’d been here as their cook, all Maggie had seen was an oversized teddy bear with a heart of gold. At the moment, though, he looked terrifying enough that Maggie took a step backward. Max grabbed the man before he could get his hand to his back pocket.

Max stood over six feet tall, and this man was just as tall. Where Max was very large, Maggie imagined this man would be all steel and packed muscle. Instead of struggling, the stranger stepped to the side, turning to face Max and holding his hands up in surrender. Max looked mean as hell. The stranger didn’t look scared. That same annoying, amused look was still on his face.

“Easy now,” the man said, holding his hands out in front of him when he slipped out of Max’s grasp.

Maggie noticed he was now also in her office.

“I was just taking out my ID to show the lady here who I am,” the man said. “Is she your boss? You’re a good man to keep an eye on her.”

Max grabbed the man. His expression never changed and again he moved so fast a cry escaped Maggie’s lips before she could hold it back. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she stepped backward until she leaned against her desk. Did she have time to call 911?

Max flipped the man around, and her office wall shook when he shoved him against it. The man’s face was turned to the side, his cheek against her wall, terribly close to the crucifix hanging there. The amused look was gone. He blinked once, twice, and exhaled. Maggie swore she could see his brain working through the expression that changed on his face. He was trying to decide if he should try throwing Max off him or not.

Thick dark brown hair tapered around his face but didn’t hide his intense features. This man was doing a really good job of controlling his reaction to Max’s sudden attack. And Max, with his back to her, didn’t look like the soft and cuddly teddy bear anymore. His large body looked hard as steel, just like the stranger he held. His thick, dark arms were like small tree trunks. And although defined muscle didn’t bulge against his black skin, he held the man where he was and didn’t appear to be struggling to do so.

“Take it out where I can see it,” Max said, his voice a guttural growl.

“I will, man,” the guy said, his voice still calm. “Best to let go of me so we don’t fight over a piece of ID. I have a feeling your boss wouldn’t like her office destroyed if you and I go at it.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Maggie wished she could say she hadn’t seen grown men fight before. But with brothers both older and younger, she’d witnessed them scrap as children and more than once go at each other as adults. Italian and Irish blood was a bad mix, but it was who they were. Nonetheless, her heart pounded in her chest with two huge men standing just inside her office door and testosterone pumping through the air strong enough to slice through with a knife. “Pull out your ID,” she managed, speaking softly so she wouldn’t start screaming.

Suddenly she understood why her mother always spoke softly, almost whispering when disciplining them. She was trying to maintain control while raising five children and not instantly lose her temper. Maggie was on the verge of screaming at both of them.

Max adjusted his hold on the man, not willing yet to release him, but allowed the man to pull his wallet from his back pocket. The man flipped it open and held it out, his cheek still pressed against the wall. He strained to watch her when Maggie stepped closer.

She glanced at it but stepped back when the stranger applied a bit of strength and turned against Max, forcing him to take a step back as well. Did this stranger really possess the strength to push Max off him?

The man turned slightly, looking at Max. “Just a wallet, my friend.” His tone changed just a bit when he added, “It’s never smart to carry a gun in your back pocket.”

“Hand your ID to me,” Maggie instructed, deciding it would be smarter to keep her distance from both of them just in case one of them made a quick move. Another thing she’d learned at a young age. Two boys, or men, fighting worked on blind rage. Get too close and get hurt.

Max dropped his arms, taking his hands off the man, and stepped back until he filled her doorway. He was still so unlike her usual teddy bear cook. Maggie was grateful for him being there. She gave him a quick glance, hoping her look showed as much. There wasn’t time to express her gratitude right now, though. She shot her attention back to the man when he turned, faced her, tugged on his T-shirt to straighten it, and gave her an eyeful of richly defined curves and bulges.

Maggie swallowed even though her mouth was too dry and forced composure through her body. Shifting her attention from that virile body to his hand didn’t help much. She glanced at the laminated card he held out to her but couldn’t read it from their distance. Her legs didn’t wobble when she stepped forward and took it, then stared at the picture of the man standing in front of her, then his credentials. Her stomach did a small flip-flop.

“Micah Jones,” she read. “Bounty hunter.” Then shooting him a pensive glance, she speculated. “You go after people who don’t show up for court dates, right?”

“Most of the time.” Micah had a gift for not elaborating.

Her mind raced. Uncle Larry had his court date earlier that week. She’d called him that morning to remind him. She remembered talking to him afterward. He hadn’t missed it, and there wasn’t anyone else here who was involved with the courts. “Why are you here?”

Micah looked over his shoulder at Max.

Her large teddy bear had returned. His eyes opened so wide that white glowed around his black pupils. “Don’t look at me,” he said, defensively, taking a step backward. “I’ve never missed a meeting with my parole officer.”

Since Maggie kept in touch with Max’s parole officer as well, she believed him.

“Would it be okay if I spoke with you a moment, alone?” he stressed, looking pointedly at Max.

Maggie looked at Max, too. It really didn’t sound like a good idea being alone with this man, Micah Jones. Probably most bounty hunters were tall and muscular. They would need all that brawn for their job. Her thoughts shifted. Instead of pissed, suddenly she was curious. She was reacting to all that virility like a female cat in heat. God, what would it be like to rub up against a body built like his?

She sighed, hoping she sounded frustrated instead of giving away the fact that warm throbbing sensations suddenly started between her legs. “Go back to work, Max.” She smiled to reassure him. “I’ll leave my office door open. I know you’ll be here in a flash if I need you,” she added, for her own sake as well as to remind the man facing her that he’d better not try anything.

What if he did try something while they were alone?

Crap! She’d read too many romance novels. Real men didn’t try seducing women they didn’t know.

Max hesitated but returned to his work, although not before snarling at Micah. Maggie would cheer him later. She’d rushed out of her office, ready to chew his ass for entertaining and feeding friends while on the clock, and now he was her hero. She moved around her desk on legs that were now shaky and collapsed in her chair. When she looked up, Micah Jones stood before her desk, filling her small office with his presence. She stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to learn about the man inside the body. His eyes were a dark hazel, a thick, rich green that she had first thought were brown. They were clear, focused, and staring straight at her. She sensed intelligence, a man incredibly determined who took what he did very seriously.

As she stared, she swore his eyes clouded over. She got the oddest sensation that he had just intentionally closed himself off, shut down completely other than what he was doing right there and now. Maggie couldn’t help thinking he was a man with many secrets. Remembering the puckered scars she’d seen on his arms, she wondered if those secrets were dark and terrible. Maggie suddenly felt trapped, cornered by a very seductive, yet dangerous man.

She patted the receipts scattered around her logbook for her pencil. Her computer was still open to QuickBooks and she tapped her keyboard, minimizing the screen. Regardless of why this bounty hunter stood in her office, the books for the club were none of his business.