Hot Zone Page 5

  The pie was too sweet and the coffee tepid. Jessica resigned herself to eating a candy bar in her room. That was odd, that man coming through the dining room door looked familiar.

  This was no mirage. Peter strode across the room toward her as if they were meeting in their favorite coffee shop in Seattle.

  She observed him, waiting for the rush of some emotion. There was none. Maybe surprise.

  He was a handsome man, tall and slender with an air of sophistication about him. His Nordic good looks got plenty of stares from women, just as they were right now. She should feel something. She had never been jealous of him, so that was out.

  He paused at the table. “Hello, Jessica.” He touched the chair opposite her. “May I join you?"

  She blinked to cover her surprise. “Of course. Sit.” A choking thirst demanded water. She sipped from her glass. “What are you doing here?"

  "I'm on my way to the polo matches in Sarasota."

  "You're alone, or with the club?"

  "Not alone and not with the club.” He had a strange look of smugness on his face. “Larissa has taken me under her wing."

  Jessica wanted to spit fire in his stoic face. “Larissa? Your best friend's wife?” She felt something now, wrenching disgust and anger, despising him as he spoke.

  "I'm seeing to her safety until we reach Sarasota."

  He didn't say it, but Jessica was certain this arrangement wasn't a new one. How big a fool had she been?

  Calm deliberation was his trademark. He flicked at something on the tablecloth. “Is that your dinner?” He forced a slash of a smile. “Another bad choice."

  The innuendos had begun. For the sake of civility, she kept her voice low. “You really don't want to go there."

  He glanced around and grimaced. “You would actually prefer living like this to having my name and connections?"

  "I like being a real warm-blooded woman with a life to be proud of.” She leaned over to gaze into his eyes. “You don't want me as I am, and I'm never going to change."

  He sighed. Wow. He must be feeling remorse. Her private moment of levity irked her. Come on. Get it over with. His face was screwed up like a prissy primer teacher now.

  "I'm calling off our engagement, Jess. I warned you the Parcel Delivery thing had to stop.” She remembered hearing another voice in the background during their last phone call. A woman's voice. “And, I don't have to remind you of my feelings concerning the man's job that's robbed you of your femininity. I'm embarrassed to tell my friends about you."

  Her stomach clutched into a cold knot of humiliated anguish. He'd hit her with a cheap shot.

  Jessica drew in a deep, calming breath to help her over the crevasse his despicable description of her had cut forever between them. Stay focused, woman. No man is worth losing your place in life for.

  "You've thought about this for a while, haven't you, Peter?” The silence on his side crackled. “It couldn't have waited until we were back in Seattle?"

  "And, when would that be? You're constantly leaving."

  "I always come home."

  "No need this time, Jess. It's done."

  "Peter."

  A flicker of quiet preceded his killing remark.

  "Don't beg, Jess."

  Had she heard correctly? The calm reserve she'd struggled to maintain boiled over in a caldron of fury. “You've helped me make the decision that's been eating me alive.” Another deep breath pushed her ahead. “I want you and everything of yours out of my home before I get back to Seattle. Do it, or I'll kick both you and your junk down the stairs the minute I open the door."

  He huffed and hissed her name. “Jess. No need being so crass."

  She closed her mind to his voice and stood, digging his house key from her handbag, she tossed it at him. “Don't bother returning my key. I'm ordering new locks be installed immediately."

  His stumbling stab at an apology went unheeded. “Jess, I really do regret this."

  "Just get out of my apartment and my life."

  "Be rational. People are staring."

  Jessica sank back down into her chair, quickly glancing around.

  She was out of breath. She wanted to slap the superior expression from his face. But, someone was intently watching her from a phone booth alcove a few steps away.

  She couldn't have been happier to see Jake saunter toward their table. He looked calm and clean in his heather-tweed sport coat and white shirt. Jeans. Every man should dress like that.

  She was staring like a drugged fool, noticing he had tried to tame his spiked hair but hadn't succeeded.

  With the confidence of royalty, Jake sat down next to her and took a bite of her pie. He wasn't fooling her. He'd obviously overheard every childish syllable of the argument.

  Peter eyed Jake with open distaste. “And, who is this person?"

  His affected speech amused her partner. “I'm her partner. Her go to man.” The hand he held out was ignored. “Jake Claypool."

  Peter stood, picking up the key she'd tossed at him and handed Jessica her apartment key. “I regret it ended this fashion."

  She turned her head to avoid the kiss he tried to brush on her cheek. “Goodbye, Peter."

  Remembering she wasn't alone, she looked up. Her partner wasn't smirking or grinning. He gazed at her with his clear blue eyes and waited.

  "Buy me a drink, sailor?” Her comment was so out of character she laughed. “See how far I've sunk since being dumped?"

  "You've got moxie.” His voice had that nice soft gravely sound.

  "I've got what?"

  "Moxie. You know.” He looked down at his crotch, then back at her. “Balls."

  "Not really. He kicked me pretty hard."

  "Well, you got in a few great left hooks.” Jake studied her, in no hurry to leave. “When I got here, you were pretty into the fight. Didn't sound like a hot date, so I figured you wouldn't mind my company."

  She suddenly remembered who she was and where she was. “I didn't need help, Claypool. The big bad wolf is gone."

  He touched her wrist. “This is where I kiss you passionately, isn't it?"

  "Is there any other way?” What on earth was wrong with her?

  "Not with me."

  "Don't feel sorry for me, Claypool."

  He sat back, surveying her with a half smile. “What made you choose a guy like that?"

  "What does that mean?” Hell, she knew what he meant.

  "He's a panty waist."

  "Sophisticated."

  "Sissy."

  "He's not what you expected?"

  "Hell no. He didn't look like a stupid man. What's his real problem?"

  "You're being insensitive and nosey."

  Jake tapped her thumb as he talked. “I'll tell you what happened to my marriage.” He gave her a quick glance. “My wife thought what I do is degrading. See. I know what being ‘let go’ feels like."

  She grimaced, wishing he hadn't seen the mess. “In case you didn't hear, it was a mutual break, partner."

  Jake's expression was now his best. Flirty and too sexy to believe. “If you don't need my sympathy, I've got something better."

  She felt ill at ease and lost. “Nice, Claypool."

  "Just being neighborly.” He covered her hand with his. “Want to neck?"

  The devil blazed in his blue eyes, suggestive and playful.

  "No. I'm going to my room.” She stood and dropped her napkin over the pie. “Coming?"

  Chapter Eight

  How far was too far? This seemed like the place. Jake followed her to the elevator and shut the door before anyone else could get on. That was probably a good sign she'd gone over the line in baiting him.

  She remembered foolishly looking at him as a fun little diversion to tease while assigned to Dallas HSD. Now it appeared as if he was going to prove her secret meanderings valid. Jake Claypool would be anything but a little diversion.

  Jessica glanced at her partner and drew in a steadying breath. She didn't bother
trying to convince him she was simply being cordial.

  "I have a box of candy upstairs."

  His attention was riveted on her mouth. “The good stuff?"

  "Chocolate cordial cherries."

  "Yeah?” He caught the fold of her skirt between his fingers. “I like candy."

  The warm air in the small space of the elevator crackled with tension. She breathed in the heady mixture of their scents, exotic and exciting.

  Her nerves were tight, ready to snap. If he touched her, it would become a tryst in a small space. Bodily injury was inevitable.

  He easily read her body language and moved her to the nearest corner, bracing his hands on either side of her.

  "You called, Ma'am?"

  "My, you're fast."

  Her eyes refused to stay open in a fog, laden with the sweet drug of passion. It swept her up in its wings, stealing her ability to reason or speak. Why would she say no when all she wanted was Jake.

  Slightly, and ever so subtly, his hips touched hers, warming her.

  The rush of warmth he infused in her body was breathtaking. He barely grazed her neck with his lips and nuzzled her burning earlobe, adding hot sensuality with a soft tug of his teeth. She was aflame.

  Jessica didn't remember lifting her arms to lock her hands behind his back. Shouldn't she say something? No need. Her quick gasp said all he wanted to know.

  Far away, a familiar sound brought her out of the lovely haze. “I believe someone's wanting the elevator."

  "I don't hear a thing.” He kissed the sensitive length of her neck until her thighs quivered. “I can hear your heartbeat, baby."

  She didn't doubt him. “What should I do about that?"

  Crazy question, woman. He was taking care of it with his nice, capable hands.

  "Mmmm. Fontana, you're the best smelling woman I've ever known.” He added a bit more pressure, leaving no doubt he was sporting a huge rack of horns for her.

  She felt weak. It had been so long since she'd been held in an embrace of raw passion, and she knew she'd give in to anything he wanted.

  She slid her hands under his jacket, memorizing the wonderful firm, warm muscle beneath, the scent of clean skin. Jake's blood ran hot too. No longer trying to resist, her hips plied to his.

  In the far off recesses of her mind, she knew there was another world, but couldn't go back. Not yet. His lips brushed over hers until she opened her mouth, inviting his kiss. Firm lips slashed across hers, demanding and hungry, taking her breath, leaving her helpless and needy in his arms.

  His hand on her breast jolted Jessica into full awareness. “Jake ... you're getting pretty damned friendly."

  He only pulled her closer, murmuring in his husky, cowboy accented voice, “Your gun's in my way."

  Heaven help her. She couldn't help herself.

  "That's funny. Yours isn't bothering me a bit."

  "Forget that part for now. I'll take another route."

  He wasn't just talk. She clawed at his back, trying to stay on her feet. How was she to do that when his hand was between her legs and roving over her thighs, checking her out like a prize filly. Whatever he did was okay with her.

  He'd reached the point of no return now, and the elastic of her panty leg offered no resistance, letting his exploring fingers slip into dangerous territory.

  Control got away from her, leaving Jessica with nothing but the desire to see the moon and stars spin off in a fiery explosion. “I can't stand it any longer.” She whimpered in delicious agony. “Peter!"

  * * * *

  What the hell? Jake didn't mind a woman not caring if she ever saw him again, but she damned well better scream his name and not some other guys. Pulling away, he straightened her blouse and hit the floor selection panel.

  He stood away from her, jamming his shirttail back into his jeans. She appeared confused and damned frustrated.

  "What's the matter with you?"

  He gazed at her with some reproach. “I'm not Peter."

  Her eyes that had been rounded with shock were now filled with anger aimed directly at him.

  "You stopped because I said Peter's name?"

  "Oh, hell yes. If the shoe was on the other foot, you'd be emptying your weapon in my hide!"

  She seemed to recover nicely and vented her frustration in a clear voice.

  "You think too much of yourself, Claypool. What did you think was going on here? We're not exclusive by any means."

  Her words bothered him more than he wanted to admit. But he wasn't going to let her know he was twice as disappointed as she was. Worse, her delectable perfume slipped through his veins depositing a raging, lingering passion.

  He remained cool, calm, and it was all a lie.

  "You really want to know what I think?” He straightened the collar of his jacket. “You need to get back with your fiancé. Obviously, it isn't over for you."

  He waited for her to leave the elevator first when the doors opened to her floor. Three young studs waited at the door, staring at Fontana with their tongues hanging out.

  Poor fools thought they were just another horny couple hurrying to her room for a hot romp. Until now, he'd never met a woman like her, so he didn't blame the guys for thinking like that. Brother, they had a lot to learn. She struck out at him when he tried to take her key.

  "I don't need an escort."

  "Whatever happened between us, I still walk a lady to her door."

  "How sweet.” She slashed her key card through the lock. “Don't get the idea I need you for protection or anything else. Period!"

  She was so near, he could touch her, but not after what had just happened.

  While she shoved the door open, he attempted to talk to her. “I'll come by for you in the morning."

  "No. You won't.” She let her resentment fly. “I realize you have a problem following through, but try not to keep me waiting at headquarters in the morning."

  * * * *

  Jake hadn't slept well after the incident with Fontana. His head hurt, and he felt like a dirty heel. He never took advantage of a woman on the rebound. Especially not her.

  If they ever did have sex, he'd have to be the only thought in her head. Damn! He couldn't stop thinking about her, or the way her soft lips clung to his, seeking something extraordinary and sensual.

  Now, they would be in close contact for thousands of miles, with days of eating and sleeping in close confines. This was going to test his mettle to the limit. He must be paranoid to be having recurring doubts about her watching his back. Hell, Claypool, you're losing it over this woman. She's an agent. Your partner.

  He conducted himself in a civil manner while they packed their meager belongings into the plane's lockers. Effort wasted when she barely acknowledged his existence on her arrival to headquarters, signing in without looking his way.

  "Is that everything, Fontana?"

  "Yes."

  They hadn't had a minute alone, and, now that they were, his tongue thickened and he now had four thumbs and four left feet. His mind wouldn't get back to normal. She'd put a hex on him. He'd check with her later.

  "Let me secure your bag, Fontana."

  Her dark eyes quickly shuttered, and she looked away.

  "I've got it.” The way she carefully closed the locker door fit her. Cool and sure.

  He waited until she plopped her tote down beside her seat to begin a conversation. Or, make the attempt. “Before we get airborne, I want to get back to at least a professional relationship. What I said...."

  "No need bringing that up, Claypool.” She fit the headphones down over her ears and flipped several switches. Let's get this started. We have an animal to take down."

  "Certainly, Ma'am.” Jake admitted to himself he'd look a lot smarter if he stopped courting her and concentrated on flying the plane. But, she had the look of a woman wanting to be told how sorry he was for being a jerk.

  Along with that, he figured the friendly voice from the control tower would be the last he'd hear for a
while if he didn't make the effort.

  At the end of the runway, he glanced at his co-pilot. She entered data in the logbook, seemingly interested in anything and everything but him. He didn't miss the slanted glance she sent his way.

  Don't get too excited. She may be planning to cause you some pain.

  Jake felt great relief and jubilation as the plane lifted and quickly gained altitude. The sooner they got to Nicaragua and back, the quicker they could get back to a normal life. If he had any luck at all, Ms. Fontana would be in a more receptive mood before she went to Seattle.

  Right now, they had to stick together just to stay alive. He hoped she wasn't so ticked off at him she'd let him eat lead.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her fiddling with the pocket of her OD jacket. Man, she looked sweet as honey in her black cargo pants and gray t-shirt.

  She glanced at him, arching her fine dark brows and lifting her shoulders. “What?"

  Like a leering opossum in a trap, he'd been caught ogling her while remembering her passion.

  "Nothing."

  Idiot!

  He looked out the window and mentally kicked his own ass. Still randy as a pasture bull.

  From that point on until they refueled in Miami, he maintained an easy line of conversation with her, careful to say nothing to piss her off.

  He re-boarded ahead of her, still drinking his cola when she climbed back into the plane.

  Unable to control his line of crap, he almost laughed at his own klutzy remark.

  "I picked up some candy bars for later."

  "Why?” She shot a knowing, amused look his way. “You don't plan on expending an unexpected burst of energy, do you?” She gestured toward the tarmac. “Is something on your mind?"

  Damn.

  "Not a thing Ma'am."

  He finished his soft drink and tossed the damned candy bars in the satchel between their seats. She opened her tote bag and laid a quart of water inside, then zipped it securely.

  Jake kicked himself mentally for being absolutely hypnotized by the lovely head next to him. Everything she did was exquisite elegance, and he still burned for her. He didn't enjoy defeat. He'd been crazy to make a noise about her saying that other guys name.

  An hour later, he was willing to risk a flogging, and asked questions he'd have never ask a casual date. He was curious about her life.