BEVERLY BARTON - Dangerous Deception

When the dance ended, Dom escorted her off the dance floor and out of the club. Once outside he held out his hand.

“Keys, please.”

She giggled. “Don’t you trust me to drive?”

“Not after two glasses of wine and two strong margaritas.”

She rummaged around in her small handbag, yanked out the car keys and handed them to him. “You’re right. All you had was a sip of one of my margaritas and a glass of wine about—” she lifted her arm and stared at her wristwatch. “Four hours ago. My gosh, it’s nearly three-thirty.”

“So it is.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her into the parking lot.

When he opened the convertible door for her, she paused, lifted her arm and whirled the bracelet-type watch around on her wrist. “Do you know how much this watch cost?”

“I have no idea.” He helped her into the passenger seat, then kissed her on the tip of her nose.

She giggled again. “It cost two thousand dollars. It’s real gold, you know.”

Dom grinned. She was slightly loopy, after two glasses of wine and two margaritas. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the lady wasn’t used to drinking.

“What’s two grand to you, honey? Your father’s a billionaire, isn’t he?” Dom slid behind the wheel.

She reached out, grabbed his arm and glared at him. “Is that why you like me? Because—”

Acting purely on instinct, Dom cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. No preliminaries, no sweet nothings. He’d been wanting to kiss her all night. She responded instantly, returning the kiss, opening her mouth, inviting him in. He took full advantage, probing, seeking, passionately loving her mouth. When they were both breathless, he ended the kiss, but didn’t lift his head. Instead, he slid his hands down either side of her neck and onto her shoulders, then spread hot, nipping kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck.

“Dom…”

“Hmm…”

She pushed him away and they stared at each other.

“Could you stay on in Palm Beach another day?” she asked.

“Possibly. If I had a good reason to stay.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in a fragile smile. “I’m not going to ask you in when you take me to my suite, but I’d very much like for us to have lunch tomorrow and then dinner tomorrow night.”

“I’d like that, too.”

When he started to kiss her again, she shoved against his chest. “It’s late. I think we should go back to the Classico now.”

Dom covered his heart with his crossed hands and sighed dramatically. “Lady, you really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you?”

She laughed. “And you, Dom Shea, know how to tempt a woman beyond reason.”

“Oh, honey, if only that were true.”

“Believe me, it is.”

Dom removed his jacket, lifted her just enough to slip the jacket around her shoulders, then kissed her cheek. “It’s pretty chilly out here.”

She hugged the coat around her. “Thanks. You really are a nice man, aren’t you.”

Dom reached across the console and buckled her into her seat belt, then latched his before starting the engine. The cool morning air acted as a slap-in-the-face, making Dom fully alert as he drove back to the hotel. He wondered what Sawyer would say if he stayed on in Palm Beach another twenty-four hours. Would his boss buy the excuse of typing up loose ends on the assignment? If not, he could send the Dundee jet back to Atlanta and simply take a personal leave day.

He knew better than to become involved with a married woman, even on a temporary basis. But there was something about this particular woman that had grabbed him from the moment he saw her and whatever it was, it wouldn’t let him go.

THEY STOOD OUTSIDE Audrey’s suite, wrapped in each other’s arms. He lifted his head after their third goodbye kiss.

“I don’t want to go,” he told her.

“You promised,” she reminded him.

He groaned. “How about I come back for breakfast?”

“It’s nearly four o’clock. Breakfast is only a few hours away.”

“I know.”

She giggled, then pushed him away. He grabbed the key out of her hand and inserted it in the lock. When the door opened, she took a step inside the foyer, but didn’t get any farther before he put his arms around her from behind and pulled her against his chest, pressing his erection against her lower back.

“How about an early lunch? Around eleven,” she said.

“How about lunch up here in your suite?”

“If you’ll go away now, like a good boy, I’ll think about it.”

He shoved her mane of long hair to one side and kissed her neck. She squealed. He released her, then turned around and walked away. When he was almost in front of the nearby elevators, she called to him.

“Dom?”

He spun around and smiled. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the best evening I’ve had in…in a long time.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“See you at eleven.”

“I’ll be johnny-on-the-spot.”

After they waved goodbye, she went inside her suite. He punched the elevator down button and waited. Then he realized he still had her key and she still had his jacket. The jacket was no big deal. He could get it tomorrow. But what if she got curious and took a look in the pockets? When he’d wrapped the jacket around her after they left the Beachcomber, he’d forgotten that he’d put the photo of her that Edward Bedell had given him inside the inner pocket. How would he ever be able to explain to her why he had a picture of her?

Dom walked down the hall to her door, but just as he started to knock, he heard an odd noise. Something inside the suite had fallen. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. Another thud, then the sound of scuffling. And finally a muffled cry.

His adrenaline pumping, he slid the plastic key down the lock and opened the door.

“Audrey?” he called to her. “Are you all right?”

Deadly silence.

Then suddenly a loud, terrified scream.

DOM ’S TRAINING as a SEAL told him how to handle the situation, despite being emotionally involved. And damn it all, he was emotionally involved with Audrey Perkins whether he wanted to be or not.

The suite lay in darkness, which meant the curtains had been closed to prevent outside light from entering the area. Someone had entered the suite, prepared it for an attack and waited for Audrey’s return. He could be dealing with a kidnapper, a rapist or a thief, although one of the first two was more likely, unless he had simply walked into the middle of a robbery attempt.

Dom had no way of knowing if he was dealing with one assailant or more. His Glock 30 was in his room in the safe. After making contact with Audrey and finding out she was alone, he had erroneously assumed he wouldn’t need his gun. Besides, if he’d carried his weapon on their date, how could he have explained it to her? But Dom seldom if ever went anywhere without being armed, especially not when he was working. Keeping his back to the wall, he eased down, lifted his pants leg and removed the Beretta 950 Jetfire pistol from the holster strapped to his calf. Many of the Dundee agents used the small, 10 ounce, 4.7 inch handgun as a backup weapon.

Not knowing his enemy, Dom took extra precautions. He had to work under the assumption that the person or persons involved posed a threat to Audrey, that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, especially if this was a kidnapping gone wrong.

When he made his way from the entrance foyer and into the parlor/dining room of the luxurious suite, his Beretta in hand, he heard a loud, agonized grunt, then saw a flash of movement.

Something or someone came barreling toward him, followed by a bulking dark shadow.