Wanted (3 page)

But when I actually got down to the pool deck, all thoughts of beer and burgers evaporated, replaced by pure, decadent, desperate lust. And not the teenage crush kind, either. No, I saw Evan Black shirtless and in swim trunks that clung in a way that made my sixteen-year-old hormones light up. His wet hair was swept back from his face, and he was brandishing a metal spatula as he stood by the grill, laughing with two other guys, who I later learned were his best friends, Cole August and Tyler Sharp.

All three seemed younger than the other four students who also populated the lush backyard. I later learned that I was right. The others were in their last year of grad school, whereas Evan was still an undergrad who’d been given special dispensation to take the class. And Tyler and Cole weren’t even enrolled at Northwestern. Tyler was a freshman at Loyola. Cole was a year older than Tyler, and had just come back from some sort of art internship in Rome. They’d come with Evan who, along with the others, made up the whole of that summer’s seminar class in finance.

Together, Cole, Tyler, and Evan were a smorgasbord of hotness that even my reasonably inexperienced eyes were more than capable of appreciating. But Evan was the only one that I wanted to take a bite out of.

I heard my uncle call my name, and the three of them turned to look in my direction. I stopped breathing as Evan’s gaze swept toward me, his expression never changing as he looked me over and then, oh-so casually, went back to flipping burgers.

I’m not sure what sort of movie I’d had running subliminally in my head. Something wild and romantic, I guess, because the moment he turned away, I felt a hot wave of disappointment wash over me. And that, of course, was immediately replaced by mortification.
Could he tell what I was thinking? Was he going to think of me now as Jahn’s gawkish niece? The one with the schoolgirl crush?

Holy crap, the idea was horrifying.

“Hey, Angie,” Jahn called, his words jerking my posture straight as effectively as a string pulling a marionette. “You joining us for burgers?”

“I—” My words had stuck in my throat, and I knew I couldn’t stay there. I needed space. Hell, I needed air. “I—I think I’m coming down with something.” I blurted the words, then turned and ran back into the house, certain that my burning cheeks were a fire hazard.

I tried to concentrate on television. On a book. On screwing around on the Internet. But nothing held my attention. My mind was too full of Evan, and in the end I went to bed early. Not because I was truly sick, but because I wanted the pleasure of the dark. The thrill of sliding my hand down my belly and under the band of my underwear, then touching myself with my eyes closed as I imagined that it was Evan’s fingers upon me. His fingers, his tongue, every decadent inch of him.

It was a bedtime fantasy that became a personal favorite, and one I repeated many nights over the next few years. Fortunately, I didn’t repeat the squealing and running like a twit every time Evan came around. Fortunate because Jahn took a fatherly liking to them, and those three guys became a fixture at the house. And since I wasn’t inclined to spend my summer hiding inside, I began to venture out. By August, I thought of Tyler and Cole like big brothers. As for Evan—no way would I ever feel brotherly toward him, but at least I could carry on a conversation without imagining his lips on mine.

Jahn called them the Three Dog Knights, because the Three Musketeers wasn’t original enough for guys as unique as them. “Besides,” he’d joked one evening as he hooked an arm around my shoulder and grinned at the guys, “this way I have my knights and my princess.”

Evan focused those hypnotic gray eyes on me, obviously considering the comment. “Is that what you are?”

I froze, stunned by the question. Grace had always been the princess to my jester. But now that she was dead, I’d slipped on the mantle even though it was an awkward, uncomfortable fit.

He was watching me—his gaze holding steady on my face as I floundered for a reply, and for a moment I thought that he saw the girl beneath the facade and the family name. I thought that he saw
me.

Then he smiled, all casual and false, and the spell was broken. “It’s just that in the stories, the princess is always dragonbait.”

I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to that, and my discomfort made my temper flare—and then explode when Tyler and Cole both guffawed and Evan shot them a cocky
I’ve won this round
grin.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said coldly. “I won’t ever be dragonbait.”

“No?” He looked me up and down, and it took every ounce of my self-control to stand still as his eyes raked over me. “I guess we’ll see,” he finally said, and then without another word, he turned around and walked away.

I watched him leave, feeling itchy and unsatisfied. I wanted something—something big and wild. Something like the sizzle and pop that Evan’s slow, heated gaze had made bubble up inside me.

Something?
Oh, please. How much bullshit was that? I knew exactly what I wanted—or more accurately, I knew
who
I wanted. And he’d just flat out left, as uninterested in me as I was enraptured by him.

As I bit back a frown, I saw my uncle watching me with an odd expression, and for the first time I feared that he knew my secret: I had more than an innocent schoolgirl crush on Evan Black. And somehow, someway, I was going to do something about it.

I released a long-suffering sigh, my eyes still fixed on the almost-magical image of Evan in his tux. I didn’t know if I was charmingly optimistic or sadly pathetic. All I knew was that despite the years that had passed—and despite the lack of any interest on his part whatsoever—my fascination with Evan Black never waned.

For just a moment, I allowed myself the luxury of a fantasy. His finger crooked under my chin. The gentle pressure as he lifted my face to look into his eyes. His touch would be gentle but firm. His scent masculine and heady. “Angie,” he’d say. “Why the hell haven’t we done this before?”

I’d open my mouth to answer, but he’d cut me off with a kiss, hot and open and so desperately demanding that I would melt against him, our bodies fusing from the electricity zinging through me, all of it focused between my thighs, making me squirm. Making me
need.

“And there she is.”

I flinched, yanked from my reverie by the caramel masculine tones. I turned to smile at the two-hundred-plus pounds of perfectly proportioned male that made up Cole August. At first glance, he was intimidating as shit, despite being empirically gorgeous. All muscle and power and hard edges, with the kind of air that warned away anyone who might want to fuck with him. He’d been born and raised on Chicago’s rather scary South Side, and the rawness of his heritage still clung to him despite the tailored suit and other trappings of success.

His mixed-race background had blessed him with creamy dark skin that boasted a golden undertone, and his eyes flashed a deep ebony. It was in those eyes that you really saw the man. Massive and intense and just a bit menacing. But also fiercely loyal.

He held out his arms and I went willingly into them. “How are you holding up there, Dragonbait?”

“Not great.” I sighed, his scent reminding me of Uncle Jahn, a musky male scent that probably came in a bottle but seemed to me to be part and parcel of those men I adored. “I’m glad you’re here. I thought you were out of town.”

“We came back, of course.” By
we,
I knew he meant himself and Tyler Sharp. “We had to be here for Jahn,” Cole added. He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “And for you.”

“Is Tyler hiding in the crowd somewhere?” I didn’t mention that I’d already honed in on Evan.

“He was right behind me. But he was snagged by a limber blonde thing who looked like she wanted to wrap herself around him.”

I had to laugh. Even at a funeral, Tyler was a girl-magnet.

Cole grinned. “Yeah, well, don’t hold it against her. I got the feeling she’s been self-medicating her grief for hours.”

“I know how she feels.”

He looked hard at me, the humor all but erased from his face. “You need anything, you ask.”

I nodded, but stayed silent. The only thing I needed was to let myself go a little wild. To shake off the weight of my grief, cut loose, and get lost in an adrenaline haze. It would work—I knew damn well that was the best way to take the edge off the pain and loss I was feeling. But no matter what, I wasn’t going to go there.

Beside me, Cole called out a greeting to Tyler. I inched away from Cole and watched as the third of Jahn’s knights approached. Where Cole was burly, Tyler was lean and athletic. He had the kind of good looks that could sneak up on a person, and the kind of charm that could make people do whatever Tyler wanted, and be absolutely certain it was their own idea all along.

He reached out for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tell us what you need.”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just you two.” I lifted a shoulder. “Really. It’s better just having you guys here.”

“Where’s Evan?” Tyler asked, and though the question was directed at Cole, I turned to look, too. But Evan had disappeared.

“Well, shit. He was right beside me a minute ago.” Cole glanced around. “Should be easy enough to spot. He’s still in that damn monkey suit.”

“He didn’t want to take the time to go change.” Tyler’s attention turned to me. “You’ve seen him, though, right?”

“I—no,” I admitted. “I mean, I’ve seen him across the room, but I haven’t talked to him. Not yet.”

“Yeah?” Tyler’s mouth curved down in a frown. “He texted me as he was leaving the dedication. Said he was coming straight here to make sure you were okay.”

“He did?” A lazy little ripple of pleasure crept up my back.

“Yeah, he—wait. There he is.
Evan.
” His voice carried across the room, and several heads turned toward us. I, however, saw only his face. His eyes. And I swear they were looking at me with the kind of wicked heat I’d fantasized about.

I gasped, that sweet ripple of pleasure now moving to decidedly more interesting parts of my body. I glanced down at the floor, telling myself to get a grip. When I looked up, Evan was moving toward us in response to Tyler’s insistent gesture. This time, however, I saw nothing in his eyes, leaving me to wonder if the ripples of heat existed only in my imagination.

He came toward us with long, confident strides. The crowd shifted automatically as he walked, as if it was as natural to clear a path for this man as it was to defer to royalty.

When he reached us, he didn’t look at me. Not even a glance. Instead his attention was focused entirely on Tyler and Cole. His manner was brusque, his tone all business. “Everything okay in California?”

“We’ll talk later,” Tyler said, “but it’s all good, man.”

“Good,” Evan said. He shifted his weight, as if he was about to drift away from our group.

“I hear all those movie stars are raving about your burritos,” I blurted. I didn’t know about all the various business ventures that the three had their hands in, but I’d paid attention when they’d bought the California-based fast-food chain that I used to frequent during high school. The place had been in violation of so many health codes it’s a wonder I survived my teenage years without succumbing to hepatitis, but the guys managed to not only clean the place up but actually expand it into a half dozen other states.

Not that I gave a flip about burritos or California—I just wanted the warmth of Evan’s eyes on me. Hell, I would have settled for the quick flash of a smile—I mean, both Cole and Tyler managed as much. But it wasn’t their reaction I craved—it was Evan’s. And all I got there was the chill of his indifference.

It made no sense. My secret lust notwithstanding, I’d known Evan my entire adult life, and the conversation had always flowed easily. After all, I’d had a lot of practice at hiding my secrets.

I told myself that he had business on his mind, but I didn’t really believe it. His silence felt like a slight. Like he was intentionally avoiding looking at me. And, frankly, on this of all days, that kind of ticked me off.

I was so intent on being irritated with Evan, that I didn’t realize Kevin had approached until he stepped up next to me and tugged me firmly into his embrace.

“Hey.” I flashed a quick smile, hoping I didn’t look disappointed to see him.

“Hey, yourself.”

I leaned in to receive his sweet kiss. And, damn me all to hell, all I could think as my lips brushed this man’s was whether or not Evan was watching.

I pulled away and forced myself to focus entirely on the man I’d just kissed. “Everything okay? Do you have to go in?”

“No crises,” he said. “Truth, justice, and the American way can continue on without me.”

He gently kissed my temple, and as I glanced between him and Evan, I had to wonder why the hell I was stalling. This was an incredibly kind and thoughtful man who had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to move past casual dating into a more serious relationship, and yet I was still caught up in lingering teenage fantasies? Honestly, did men get more upstanding and eligible than FBI agents? And considering my father had introduced us, he already had the parental seal of approval.

Purposefully, I moved closer, hooking my arms around his waist, then tilting my head up to look at his face. His wavy blonde hair was neatly trimmed and his blue eyes held charm and humor. All in all, he had nice-guy good looks, like the cute quarterback who’s not as sexy as the guy in leather with the low-slung car, but still totally hot. “I really appreciate you being here with me.”

“I told SAC Burnett that I needed to be here for you today,” he said, referring to the special agent in charge to whom he reported. His gaze flicked in turn over Cole and Tyler and Evan. “I’ll get back to kicking criminal butt tomorrow.”

“Who are you hounding now, Agent Warner?” Evan asked. There was a hint of humor in his voice, but also the tightness of control. Both Tyler and Cole must have heard it, too, because they each cut a sharp glance Evan’s way. I had the impression that Cole was going to say something but thought better of it.