Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“Ooooh,” she drew out the word, savoring the sensations. Tomorrow night, after the partner dinner, she would bring him back here. They would take their time. Enjoy each other, free of the past.

With that thought foremost in her mind, she fell deeply and completely asleep.

In the darkness, he watched. He could see the police cars now, tucked in with the commuters and the travelers. Their Pennsylvania plates and multiple antennas gave them away if you took the time to look. Parked between cars from Ontario and Georgia, the cop cars were conspicuous. So was the latest bodyguard.

The cops would be in the bar and the lobby lounge, watching for trouble. The private hired muscle would be on the floor where Torie was, probably in one of the sitting areas by the elevator.

Excellent.

He smiled. Time for a little fun.

Chapter Nineteen

“Jameson? Jameson? You in there?” Paul heard the pounding on his door, and went from the depth of sleep to instant, hyperaware wakefulness in the space of a heartbeat.

He struggled into jeans as he hurried to the door. “I’m here. That you, Tibbet?”

“Whaddya think, it’s a monkey?”

“Hey,” Paul complained, pulling open the door. “You’re the one who told me to check this shit out before whipping open the door.”

“Yeah,” Tibbet said, prowling into the house.

“What’s up?” He knew it wasn’t Torie. Tibbet would have said so immediately.

“Weird shit.”

“Huh?”

“Torie’s okay, but—”

“What happened?” Paul demanded, grabbing Tibbet’s arm to stop him in his tracks.

“You’re gonna want to let go,” Tibbet said through gritted teeth.

“Not till you tell me what happened.”

Tibbet shook him off, but started telling. “I had two watchers on the hotel. One in the parking lot, two in the lobby. I could only keep ’em on for a while. City’s busy tonight. We needed ’em, ya know?”

“Budget cuts suck.”

“Yeah, you know it.” Tibbet seemed relieved that Paul understood. His chief had nearly fried his ass about the cost of manpower.

“So it was time for them to switch around, not be so obvious, and parking lot guy checks in with central. He goes into the bar and next thing I know, I got a nine-one-one to the head over there for the other two to be picked up, intoxicated.”

“Drunk? On duty?”

“Somebody wanted it to look that way. Waitress says they were both drinking nothing. One had tonic and lime, the other, an O’Doul’s.”

“That’s the nonalcoholic beer, right?”

“Yeah. So suddenly both of ’em start getting silly. One of ’em’s singing with the band, the other guy’s picking fights and shit. My third guy walks into the middle of this.”

“Hence the nine-one-one.”

“Yeah. I roll over there, fast, calling your Torie, but can’t get her. She’s turned her phone off, by the way, but I didn’t know that. Freaked me out.”

“You didn’t call me?” Paul nearly shouted the words. Now he was upset, and pissed.

“Nothin’ to tell till I got there.”

“But she’s okay?”

“Sound asleep. But I had to call my team in because someone had used our kind of crime scene tape all over the hall, over the doors and exits. I think our boy didn’t know which room she was in. She’s not registered, so he couldn’t get her room number.”

Paul frowned. It didn’t make sense. “But your guys…”

“Were drugged. Someone slipped them something. Both of ’em are at the ER, puking up their guts, getting it out of their systems.”

“Oh, that’s nasty.”

“Yeah, stupid, too. Nothing like an out-of-control cop.”

Frightening thought, Paul decided.

“So you were able to call Torie?”

“Once I convinced the front desk clerk that I really was a cop. Seems a slightly built man, blond and brown-eyed, had come in earlier claiming to be a cop and asking for Torie’s room. You’d given me her friend Pam’s name. I asked for that and the clerk pulled it right up. Perky little twit called her for me.”

“You woke her up. What did you tell her?”

“Just that there had been an incident in the lobby, and I didn’t want her to worry if she heard about it. I told her to stay in her room, keep the curtains closed. That sort of thing.”

Paul let himself sit, let himself relax now that he knew Tibbet had talked to Torie. He looked at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning.

“I’m going off shift. If I don’t get some sleep, I won’t be fit to catch a one-legged man on a unicycle.”

Paul laughed. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Welcome. Had to come check on my guys over here, too. Sorry to wake you.”

“You’d have been sorrier if you hadn’t.”

It was Tibbet’s turn to laugh. “Figured.”

When he was gone, Paul paced the kitchen. He hadn’t turned on any lights in the small room, preferring the dark, preferring not to be a target.

He wanted to call her, reassure himself that she was okay. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to go over there.

He had nearly talked himself into going back to bed when he heard his phone trill, signaling an incoming text message.

“Tibbet said he would tell you,

but so you know,

I’m okay.”

He read it, glad to see the words, hear them. It was a relief to have Torie confirm Tibbet’s assessment. The time stamp was less than a minute ago.

He hit return dial, and waited for her to pick up.

“Hey,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.

“Hey, back. You okay?” He slouched into a chair, closing his eyes to see her in his mind.

“Yeah. I guess. I was scared to death when Tibbet called from the front desk. I thought…I thought something had happened to you.”

Having felt the same, Paul reveled in her concern. “Yeah, I nearly freaked when he pounded on my door.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry he woke you,” she said.

“If he hadn’t, he’d have been hurting in the morning,” Paul stated as a blunt fact.

“Paul,” she admonished with a gentle laugh, “he’s doing his job.”

“Yeah. I know.” He didn’t want to talk about Tibbet, he wanted to talk about her. “You get some sleep?”

“Some. I was asleep when Tibbet called.”

“Hmmm. You sleeping now?”

“No.” She gave a soft laugh. “I’m talking to you, you goof.”

“I wish I was there with you.”

“I wish you were, too,” she admitted.

“I can be there in fifteen minutes, if you want me to.” Please, he thought. Want me. Every part of him wanted to leap up, head for her hotel. The thought that the cops stationed outside his door would know where he was going and what he was doing didn’t stop the wanting.

“I wish I could beam you over,” she murmured, and he heard the drowsy desire in her voice. “I’d be able to touch you.” She yawned and he did, too. The rest of his body was wide awake, however.

“You want to touch me?” he baited her. “Mmmm. That would be good. Then I could touch you, too. Everywhere. Anywhere you wanted me to touch you. Light,” he said, waiting so she could picture it. “Or firm, and deep.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “You’re making me crazy.”

“Not half as much as you’re making me, babe,” he said, thinking he was going to need a cold shower before heading back to bed. Either that or he was going to say to hell with all the phone sex, and climb in bed with her for some furious, awesome lovemaking.

“Good,” she murmured. “You’ve been driving me crazy for years. Mmmmm. About time I gave a little of that back.”

“Years?”

“Years. I’ve wanted to touch you like I did in your office today. Hold you in my hands.” She lowered her voice to that devastatingly sexy purr. “Feel you touch me. Everywhere.”