Tawny Weber - Sex, Lies and Valentines

Before she could decide whether or not to share the smile, though, she saw two new goons patrolling the edge of the forest just beyond the manor’s emerald expanse of lawn. Even from this distance, she could see the outline of the submachine guns under their jackets.

She was on the job. Partnered with a criminal. And instead of focusing on the task at hand, she was trying to think of excuses to give in to the hot attraction flaming between them.

It wasn’t the same as blowing off her responsibilities for a fifth of Jack and an ounce of weed, but it was too close to that line for Danita’s comfort.

What a time for family resemblances to surface. Biting back a furious snarl, Danita pinned her gaze on the largest goon as if she could kick his butt just by glaring. Because her fury was aimed at her own past, and not the man standing behind her, she took a few seconds to get it under control.

Because while she’d happily skewer Gabriel for being a cocky criminal who was crazy-lucky to not be in prison, she wasn’t willing to take her own issues out on the guy.

Instead, she took three deep breaths and focused on the reminder that she wasn’t her past. Life was about choices, and she’d chosen to close the door on selfish irresponsibility.

And no cleverly sexy criminal was going to make her open it again.

With that in her mind and steel in her spine, she lifted her chin and turned back to the room.

“I can see why you’ve been such a success as a criminal,” she said, her words closed as tight as her expression. “You must be the best liar I’ve ever watched in action.”

“Blondie, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Anytime you want to see what’s beneath that tip, you just say the word.”

She didn’t even bother to sigh. “Men like you just can’t resist pulling out your double entendres to play with, can you?”

“You have no idea what kind of man I am.”

“One of a kind, I’m sure,” she said in a deliberately bored tone. She was nice enough to turn away before rolling her eyes, though. Needing, desperately, to be busy, she pulled a tiny transmitter and a video camera the size of a safety pin out of yet another cubby in her purse.

“Not quite.” Apparently tired of waiting for her to finish her room inspection, he strode over to drop onto the bed. Kicking off his shoes, he spread out, arms crossed behind his head as he rested it on the whitewashed iron headboard.

“I’m a chip off the old block,” he said as she surveyed the room. “Not so much in looks, although my brother, sister and I do take after my dad quite a bit. We have our mother’s eyes, though. But in personality? Talent? Skill? I’m my old man’s son, through and through. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Danita paused in the act of running her fingers along the top of the bathroom door frame to stare at him. “You sound like you’re proud of that.”

“Of course I am.”

“Your father is a known criminal. His FBI file is so thick it requires its own drawer. He’s rumored to have been involved in scams and cons on five continents, to have had his hand in three major art thefts and to have actually sold some idiot the Golden Gate Bridge.” Even though she was the one reciting the list, she still shook her head in wonder. It was hard to believe someone could be suspected of all of that and so much more, yet nobody had ever been able to bust him. Ever . She gave Gabriel a baffled look. “And you’re proud of your similarities?”

“The man’s the best there is. Why wouldn’t I be proud?”

Proud. She thought of the door closed tight against her own past and cringed. Why would either of them want to be aligned with their legacies?

“So why aren’t you partnered up with him? Why have you been estranged for the past eight years?”

His eyes narrowed with a frustrated fury that surprised her. Then he blinked and the fury was gone. But Danita wasn’t surprised that he changed the subject.

“I’m going to head down to the car,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll be here playing Jane Bond?”

“Why are you going to the car?” she asked slowly.

“To get the rest of the luggage, of course,” he said, slipping his feet back into shoes before giving her a smile that was part charm, part exasperation. “What’s the worry? You’ve got the keys right there, it’s not like I can go anywhere.”

Eyes narrowed, Danita gave him a long look before nodding slowly. “The head goon said your fellow criminals were all out and about, but just in case, try not to talk to anyone.”

“If anyone dares say more than hello, I’ll brush them off. You know, tell them I’m in a hurry to get back upstairs for a hot nooner,” he tossed over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

With that smile seared in her mind and a gurgle of reluctant laughter lodged in her throat, he was gone.

GABRIEL REVELED IN the power of the Corvette’s big block as it tore down the quiet country road.

It was crazy to be disappointed, but he had to admit, he was feeling a little let down. He’d just walked right out of that room, ditching Blondie with hardly any effort at all. You’d think a government-trained agent would be a little smarter. Her car had been in full view of the window, yet she hadn’t noticed when he’d boosted it. Or maybe she had and didn’t want to blow their cover by chasing him down like an obsessive girlfriend.

He grinned at the image and wondered how long she’d wait for him to return with the bag before she came looking, then shrugged. Didn’t matter. She was pretty enough, and surprisingly not boring. But still, she wasn’t his type.

Although he’d love to know how a woman so uptight ended up playing the floozy. And damned if she didn’t play an excellent one. Those big blue eyes wide and just a smidge vacant, her lips slick and glossy and that sexy body poured into just enough fabric to make a man sweat. All the while she gave the impression that she was worth every penny in the man’s wallet she was grasping.

The memory of her lips under his flashed through his brain like lightning. And through his body like a raging thunderstorm. God, she’d tasted good. Just thinking about her got him hot and hard.

Which was the last thing he needed, he reminded himself as he turned off the highway onto Main and downshifted the ‘Vette to something closer to the speed limit.

Ten minutes—and one quick sentimental drive around the town—later he parked his borrowed car in the town square and, one arm across the steering wheel, he looked around with a sigh.

It was the same. A tiny part of him, a part he rarely let see the light of day, relaxed as the warmth of his childhood hometown enveloped him in a welcoming hug.

Damn, he’d forgotten how simply lovely Black Oak was.

Cobblestone walks and brick buildings. Antique lampposts and planter boxes just waiting for the warmth of spring. In the center of the square was a statue of town founder, Gabriel’s great-great-grandpa, Andrew Black. Curved iron benches surrounded the square, and in honor of the season, Valentine’s hearts decorated the flags waving from various buildings.

A man who rarely allowed sentiment to take hold, he had to smile at the beauty of it all. It was as though he’d never left home.

Before he could get too gooey and emotional, there was a quick rap of knuckles on metal. His gaze flashed to his side-view mirror. A grin, wicked and wide, spread as he swung out of the car.

“Well, well,” he said as he leaned one arm on the door-jamb. “What have we here?”

“Trouble, from the look of it,” the other man said. Besides an extra inch in height and the really lousy haircut, it was almost like looking in a mirror. That fact had bothered Gabriel growing up.