Too Close for Comfort
Too Close for Comfort
Heidi Rice
Rescued by a bone-meltingly handsome stranger!After a run-in with a Californian con-man, Scottish Iona MacCabe has no money and nowhere to go. She quickly discovers LA can be a very unfriendly city without tons of hard cash Millionaire security expert Zane Montoya can hardly leave a pretty Scottish tourist at a dodgy motel to fend for herself. His long-lost chivalrous side takes over: he turns on the legendary Montoya charm and whisks Iona away to upscale Monterey.Independent, wilful Iona might be spitting daggers at being rescued, but that doesnt stop the sexual heat between them reaching scorching point! Zanes used to keeping all his women at arms length, and Ionas way too close for comfort but Zane only realises his long-held emotional detachment is at risk once its too lateMy favourite author, Heidi captures the imagination like no other! Charlotte, 40, Finance Manager
Now, stop arguing with me or Ill kick you out of the car and leave you in the middle of nowhere.
It was an empty threat. He wouldnt do that to any womanespecially not one who had no money, no ID, whod just bolted down a burger as if she hadnt eaten in days and had eyes like Bambi.
But instead of being cowed she stuck her chin out. Fine. Dump me here if you want. Ive no got a problem with that.
Damn, she was actually serious.
What kind of guys had she been dealing with? Then he thought of the seedy motel and had a pretty good idea.
Yeah? Well, unfortunately I do.
Then take me back to the motel. Ill get my stuff and stay somewhere else.
Maybe it was the flinty determination in her voice, or the way her gaze never wavered, but he wanted to believe her.
Which only made him sure he shouldnt. Ten years on the force had taught him that trust was a dangerous thingand following your gut instead of having proof could get you killed.
He slid the car into Reverse. Forget it. Youre staying where I can keep an eye on you.
About the Author
HEIDI RICE was born and bred and still lives in London, England. She has two boys who love to bicker, a wonderful husband who, luckily for everyone, has loads of patience, and a supportive and ever-growing British/French/Irish/American family. As much as Heidi adores the Big Smoke, she also loves America, and every two years or so she and her best friend leave hubby and kids behind and Thelma and Louise it across the States for a couple of weeks (although they always leave out the driving off a cliff bit). Shes been a film buff since her early teens, and a romance junkie for almost as long. She indulged her first love by being a film reviewer for ten years. Then a few years ago she decided to spice up her life by writing romance. Discovering the fantastic sisterhood of romance writers (both published and unpublished) in Britain and America made it a wild and wonderful journey to her first Mills & Boon
novel.
Heidi loves to hear from readersyou can e-mail her at heidi@heidi-rice.com, or visit her website: www.heidi-rice.com
Recent titles by the same author:
ONE NIGHT, SO PREGNANT!
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE WILD
ON THE FIRST NIGHT OF CHRISTMAS
CUPCAKES AND KILLER HEELS
Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Too Close
for Comfort
Heidi Rice
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Special thanks go to fellow authors Scarlet Wilson and Libby Mercer for their help in making my Scottish heroine and my Californian hero sound real (I hope).
And to the lovely Roberto, who gave me an invaluable insight into the culture and traditions of Californias Mexican-American communityany mistakes in the portrayal are entirely mine.
CHAPTER ONE
HEY, MITCH, WAS there anything on a kid in Demarests file? About five-two or-three, hundred and ten pounds?
Zane Montoya squinted into the shadows of the motel parking lot, trying to make out any other usable details. But whoever the kid was, he was being real careful not to stray into the pools of light cast by the streetlamps, making the fine hairs on Zanes neck prickle. Hed been staking out Brad Demarests motel room for five hourstaking over right after Mitch had called in with the fluand Montoya Investigations had been on the guys tail for six months now. Getting the tip that this by-the-hour motel on the outskirts of Morro Bay was Demarests latest bolt hole had been their first break in weeks. And his gut was telling him the kid was casing the joint. And he didnt like it, because if Demarest showed up the last thing Zane needed was some little troublemaker alerting the guy to their presenceor, worse, spooking him before they could do a citizens arrest.
Is this kid a girl or a boy? Mitchs voice croaked.
Dont you think I would have? Zanes frustrated whisper cut off as the kid stepped back and the yellow glow of the streetlamp illuminated a sprinkle of freckles, vivid red-and-gold curls springing out from under a low-riding ball cap and the curve of a full breast beneath the skintight black tank she wore over camo trousers and boots. Its a girl.
A girl who had to be up to no good. Why else would she be dressed up like GI Jane?
Make that a young womaneighteen to twenty-fiveCaucasian with red shoulder-length hair.
The girl melted into the shadows as he tried to picture the intriguing features hed glimpsed on a mugshot.
She doesnt look familiar, he murmured, more to himself than Mitch.
Hed reread Demarests file while gorging himself on the endless supply of junk food Mitch had stashed in the glove compartment, but he couldnt remember any of Demarests known associates fitting her description.
Mitch gave a weighty sigh. If shes hanging round his motel room, shes probably another mark.
I dont think soshes too young, Zane replied. And way too cute. He cut off the thought. If she was mixed up with Demarest, she couldnt be that cute. A one-time B-movie producer whod taken a brief detour into porn before finding a more lucrative income duping rich women by promising to make them movie stars, Demarest was a typical LA parasite. But this kid with her pale skin, her freckles, her silicone-free breasts and her furtive activities looked anything but his typical mark.
Dont be too sure, Mitch replied. The guy cast a wide net and he wasnt choosy.
Oh, hell, Zane muttered as the girl approached the door to Demarests room. Call Jim for back-up, he added sharply. And get him over here now.
Has Demarest showed up? Mitchs croak rippled with excitement.
No. Thank God. But Jimll have to take over the surveillance. Weve got trouble. He glared across the lot, his irritation levels rising as his stomach sank. Because whoever the heck she is, shes just broken into his motel room.
He shoved the cell into his back pocket as he lurched out of the car and headed across the parking lot.
Just what he needed after five hours sitting in a damn carA GI Jane lookalike with freckles on her nose screwing up a six-month-operation.
Iona MacCabe eased the door open, and clutched a sweaty palm around the skeleton key shed spent a week doing the job from hell to get hold of. The tiny strip of light coming through the curtains was alive with dust motes, but didnt give her much of an idea of the rooms contents bar the two queen-size beds.
Her heart pounded into her throat at the footstep behind her, but as she whipped round to slam the door a tall figure blocked the doorway.
Brad!
Her stomach hit her tonsils as the apparition shot out a hand and wedged the door open.
I dont think so, came the gruff voicetight with anger.
Not Brad.
The knee-watering shaft of relief was quickly quashed as an arm banded round her waist. Her back hit a chest like a brick wall, knocking the wind out of her, as he lifted her off her feet.
Let go, she squeaked, her reflexes engaging as the shadow man hefted her backwards.
What the hell do you think youre doing? she yelped as he kicked the motel door shut and carted her across the parking lot to who knew where.
The muscular arm tightened under her breasts and her lungs seized as she figured out that getting abducted might actually be worse than being caught by Bradthe thieving love rat.
Im stopping a felony in progress, the disembodied voice growled. Now shut up, because thisll go a lot worse for you if someone spots us.
She grabbed his arm and tried to prise it loose, but he was holding her too tightly for her to get any leverage. The tensile strength under her fingertips made the panic kick up a notch. She heard the heavy clunk of a car door opening and began to struggle in earnest. He was kidnapping her.
No way!
Shed come five thousand miles, lived on her wits for a fortnight, been cleaning toilets for a week in the grottiest motel in the world and hadnt had a decent meal since the day before yesterday, only to get murdered by a nutjob in a motel car park a few feet from her goal.
Fury overtook the panic. If you dont put me down this instant Ill yell my head off, she whispered, then wondered why she was whisperingand why she was giving him a warning.
She drew in a breath and a callused palm slapped over her mouth. The ear-splitting scream choked off into an ineffectual grunt.
She kicked furiously, but only connected with air, as the scent of something clean and intensely male cut through the aroma of rotting garbage that hung in the night air.
He doesnt smell like a low life.
The thought disconcerted her long enough for him to twist round and dump her into the passenger seat of the car.
With his hand no longer cutting off her air supply, she hitched in a shaky breathonly to have the palm cover her mouth again. His forearm held her immobile.
She tried to bite him, but her jaws were wedged shut. His dark head loomed over her, the features still disguised by the shadowsand her heart battered her ribs with the force of a sledgehammer.
The enticing scent enveloped her as he hissed next to her ear. You let out a single sound and Im going to arrest you on the spot.
Arrest.
Her mind grabbed hold of the word.
Hes a cop. He wont kill me.
But while her heart stopped pummelling, the panic still crawled across her skin and made sweat trickle between her breasts.
Not being murdered thousands of miles from home was good. But getting caught by a cop breaking into Brads room was definitely bad. The temporary work visa shed spent two months getting a hold of would be revoked. She could get deported and then shed have no chance of getting even a fraction of the twenty-five thousand pounds of her dads money Brad had absconded with.
Nod if you understand me? he said again, low and apparently seriously pissed off.
She nodded, her fingers curling around the key shed used to get into Brads room. She slid the key under her bottom.
He lifted his hand and she sucked in a deep breath.
Why didnt you identify yourself as a cop sooner? she demanded in a furious whisper, deciding attack was the best form of defenceand a good way to distract him until she could get away from him. You scared ten years off my life.
Im not a cop, Im a private investigator. He tugged something out of his back pocket and flipped it open. She guessed the card he was showing her was some form of ID, not that she could see it any better than she could see him in the darkness.
Now put your seatbelt on, were leaving.
Outrage welled up her throat as he shut the car door, skirted the bonnet, climbed into the drivers seat and turned on the ignition.
Hes not even a proper cop?
She grasped the dash as the car reversed out of its slot. Hang on a minutewhere are you taking me? Maybe shed been a bit hasty assuming he wasnt a kidnapper.
Put the seatbelt on now or Ill put it on for you.
No, I will not, she announced as he drove down the block of doorways and braked in front of the motel office. I have a room and a job here. Im not going anywhere. And if youre only a fake cop you cant make me.
She reached for the door handle, intending to dive out. But he leaned across her, the roped muscle of his arm skimming her breast, and clamped his hand over hers on the door handle.
Youre not staying here any more. The menacing growl was so full of suppressed anger she flinched. And I can make you. Just try me.
She tried to flex her fingers, the iron-hard grip merely tightened.
Let go now, he murmured, his minty breath feathering her earlobe and making her nape tingle. Or so help me, Im calling this in and to hell with the investigation.
I cant, she snapped back, her anger not quite as controlled as his. Youre holding on too tightly.
He released her hand and she let go of the handle, shaking her numb fingers in a bid to restore the blood supply before she got gangrene. That hurt. I think you may have crushed a finger.
The huff of breath suggested he didnt care if he had.
A large, square open palm appeared under her nose. Now hand over the key.
What key? she squeaked, struggling to sound innocent while the key burned into her left bum cheek.
The key thats under your butt. He snapped his fingers, making her jump despite her best efforts to remain aloof. Youve got ten seconds or Im going to get it myself.
And then he started to count. Her nipples tingled at the memory of his forearm wedged under her breasts.
She retrieved the key and slapped it into his palm, conceding defeat at the unpleasant thought of those long, strong fingers delving under her bottom.
There, fine, are you satisfied now? she asked, disgusted with herself as well as him. I had to scrub fifty toilets to get that. And believe me, the toilets in this dump need more than their fair share of elbow grease.
The scoffing sound sent another inappropriate prickle of reaction shooting up her spine.
What the heck was wrong with her? This guy was the opposite of sexy. Clearly a fortnight spent living on a shoestring budget doing dead-end jobs in an alien, unfriendly country had melted her brain cells.
Dont go anywhere, he said, getting out of the car. You wont like me if I have to come get you.
She folded her arms across her chest, tense with indignation. I dont like you now.
He gave a humourless chuckle.
Iona glared at his back as he walked into the motel office and indulged in a brief fantasy of running off into the night. But as his tall frame stepped into the officeand the lean athletic build rippling under a tan polo shirt and dark trousers became apparent under the harsh strip lightingshe let the fantasy go.
After a ten-minute conversation with Greg, the night clerk, he strolled back towards her, silhouetted by moonlight again. As he approached she became painfully aware of the mile-wide shoulders, narrow hips, long legs and the predatory stride.
Flipping heck.
Whoever this guy was, he was a lot stronger and bigger than she wasand she already knew he didnt mind using his physical advantage. Which meant she was going to have to wait to make a clean getaway.
He paused next to the car and pulled out a smartphone. As he talked into the device, the blue light from the neon Vacancy sign hit his face.
Iona gasped. Her abductor could make a living as a male supermodel.
A bubble of hysteria built under her breastbone as she stared at the firm sensual lips, the aquiline nose with a slight bump at the bridge, the sculpted angular cheekbones, the olive-toned skin and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He glanced towards her and her lungs stopped as she absorbed the deep sapphire-blue of his eyes and the unusual dark blue rim around the irises. Was that a trick of the light? Even Daniel Craigs eyes werent that blue. Surely?
He finished the callnot a word of which shed managed to catch due to the loud buzzing in her ears from a lack of oxygenand slipped the smartphone back into his pocket.
He settled into the drivers seat, thankfully casting his stunning face into darkness again.
She looked away and concentrated on breathing. So what if he was better looking than Adonis? He was still a bullying jerk.
She repeated the mantra in her head as he drove off without acknowledging her.
If its not too much to ask, she said as they left the motels lot, where exactly are you taking me? Because my purse, my passport and all my worldly goods happen to be in room 108. And I dont want someone to nick them.
Not that she had a great deal of money in her purse, or many worldly goods, but her credit card was kind of important, and her passport if she was ever going to get out of this Godforsaken country.
Thats cute, coming from you, he said as he flipped the indicator and turned onto Morro Bays main street.
She bristled. Im not a thief, if thats what youre implying.
Uh-huh. So what were you doing in Demarests room? Planning to scrub his john after hours?
The mention of Brads name had her bristling even more. So he knew Demarest? Or knew of him? She tried to decide whether this was good or bad.
This is the way its gonna work, he said, his voice domineeringand deadly calm. Either I report you to the Morro Bay PD and they put you in a cell to keep you out of my way or you do what I say and tell me everything you know about Demarest.
His thumb tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as the car drifted out of the small towntaking her farther away from her goal, and her passport.
Its not stealing if someones already stolen from you, she offered, after considering her options. She didnt plan to tell this arrogant stranger anything but she didnt want to end up in a cell either.
His thumb tapped three more times. No, actually, technically its still stealing.
Great, the man wasnt just a bullying jerk, he was a self-righteous bullying jerkwith eyes bluer than Daniel Craig. Her pulse spiked.
Get over the eyes. Looks can be deceivingyou know that.
How much?
How much what? she asked, confused by the question.
How much did Demarest take you for?
The toneless enquiry had all the pain and humiliation charging up her throat and threatening to gag her. She swallowed down the bitter taste. So shed made a mistake. A stupid, selfish mistake by believing in a guy who had never been what he seemed. But shed spent the last two weeks trying to put that mistake rightthat had to count for something.
Not me, my father. She stared out of the window into the darkness. The car had reached the bluff over Morro Bay and even though she couldnt see the ocean, she could sense it.
She hit the button to slide down the window, suddenly desperate for the scent of fresh air. The dry ache in her throat caught her unawares as the musty scent of earth, and sea and tree sap brought with it a vivid picture of Kelross Glen. The little Highland town in the foothills of the Cairngorms shed spent the first twenty-four years of her life trying to escape. And every second of the last two weeks wishing she could return to.
She hit the up switch, sealing out the painful memories. She couldnt go back, not until she made amends for Brad and the childish wanderlust that had drawn her to him in the first place. She had to get at least some of her fathers money back. And if that meant tracking Brad the Cad through every dive on Californias coastlineand putting up with the arrogant guy seated beside hershed do it.
How much did he take your father for? The sharp question jolted her out of her thoughts.
Twenty-five grand, she said. Her dads life savings. Peter MacCabe had believed he was giving Iona a shot at her dreambut Brads promises of setting her up as a wildlife artist in Los Angeles had been as false and shallow as he was.
She pushed out a shaky breath.
Stop being a drama queen.
Once shed given Detective Sexy the slip and worked out a way to get back into Brads room, shed finally be able to look for her dads money.
You dont seriously think hes got twenty-five grand in Irish bills stashed in his motel room do you?
The incredulous statement had her head whipping round. And her eyes narrowing.
Im not Irish, Im Scottish, she said, indignation ringing in her voicehow come no one in California knew the difference between a Scottish and an Irish accenthadnt any of them ever watched Braveheart? And I dont see where else he would put the money. Hes not likely to be using a bank account, is he?
When did he hit your old man?
December.
December the twenty-third, to be precise. What a merry Christmas that had turned out to be. To think shed actually believed the story hed told her about popping over to Inverness to get her and her father a Christmas present. Until her father had dropped the bombshell about cashing in all the bonds he owned to give you a chance at happiness with your new young man. She hadnt even had the heart to tell him she and Brad were hardly a love match.
Thats three months ago. She heard the note of pity in the detectives voice, and hated him for it. The moneys long gone by now.
It couldnt all be gone. Not all twenty-five grand. How? Hes not exactly spending it on his accommodation.
Hes got a cocaine habit. He could lose that much up his nose in a weekend.
But A cocaine habit? Was that why hed seemed so fragile and vulnerable when hed walked into The Kelross giftshop?
Im taking it he kept that quiet while he was in The detective paused. Where are you from?
The Scottish Highlands, she said absently.
So thats why he disappeared from our radar for a couple of months, he murmured more to himself than her. I figured he might have skipped town to avoid his marks, but I didnt think he had the imagination to skip all the way to Europe.
He has other marks? she said dully.
Querida, hes a high-end hustler with a class-A habitwhere do you think I come in?
I dont know, where do you come in? she snapped. Did the guy really have to be quite so patronising?
My names Zane Montoya. I own and operate a private investigations firm based in Carmel. Weve been investigating Demarest for six months. Gathering evidence, witness statements, establishing a money trail, all on behalf of an insurance company who made the mistake of insuring some of his victims. He waited a beat as she struggled to absorb the information.
So her father hadnt been the only one whod fallen for Brads clever lies? This hadnt been some arbitrary, opportunistic con? Her stomach pitched at the thought.
Had she really believed this couldnt get any worse?
Shed got over her ludicrous fantasy that Brad Demarest cared about her and admired her artworkenough to help her get out of Kelross Glenmonths ago. But Montoyas revelations felt like the final rusty nail in the rotting coffin of her pride and self-respect.
A complex, high-level investigation, Montoya continued. That your dumb stunt came close to screwing up tonight.
She ignored Montoyas irritation. If he expected an apology for her dumb stunt, hed be waiting until they were serving snow cones in hell. She couldnt care less about him or his anonymous insurance company or his complex, high-level, almost screwed up investigation.
All she cared about was her father.
Peter MacCabe was a good man, whod wanted to give her a dream. A dream shed destroyed by letting a professional conman into their lives.
They rode in silence for the next few miles. Iona stared into the darkness and tried to get her head around what she was going to do next. It had taken her over two weeks to track Brad this far, in the hope she could get some of the money back. But if all the money was gone, was there even any point in confronting him? The hopelessness of the situation felt debilitating.
The lights of a strip mall shone in the distance as they approached another seaside town, but her mind had gone numb and she simply could not get it to engage.
Even her bones felt tired. Shed been running on adrenaline since shed got to California, trying to live on as little as possible while she waited for Brad to return to the motel shed had staked out. Tears of frustration and weariness pricked her eyes. She sucked them up. Crying never solved anything.
The yellow sign of a fast-food franchise flickered on the side of the road. Her stomach protested audibly and the hot flush of shame fired up her neck. Seemed the coffin of her self-respect hadnt completely rotted away because shed be mortified if Montoya had heard her hunger pains.
No such luck.
The car bounced across the cracked pavement in the fast-food restaurants forecourt, then stopped at the drive-through window.
He slanted a look at her belly. What do you want?
Nothing, Im good, she said, even though she hadnt eaten since the coffee and doughnut shed splurged on at breakfast. Shed rather die of starvation than accept charity from this jerk.
Whatll it be, sir? The teenage girl in the drive-through window blushed profusely before letting out a choked sighclearly suffering from the same asphyxiation problem Iona herself had had after her first good look at Detective Sexy.
He glanced at her over his shoulder and she got another unwelcome eyeful of that staggering face. An alarming series of pinpricks shimmered across her nerve endings.
You sure? he asked.
Positive. She lifted her chin.
The flat line of Montoyas lips curved up at one end, sending a dimple into his cheek. The pinpricks gathered and concentrated in all sorts of inappropriate places.
A dimple? Seriously? Give me a break.
The hint of a smile was more rueful than amused, but there was no denying the spectacular blip in Ionas heart rateor the loud answering growl of the lion in her stomach still hoping to get fed.
Suit yourself. He turned back to the blushing teen. Ill have two double cheeseburgers with a couple of large fries and a chocolate malt, Serena, he purred, reading her name off the badge pinned to her heaving bosom.
Yes, sir, coming right up. The girl jumped to attention. Thatll be six dollars fifty, sir.
Iona rolled her eyes. What was with the sir? Couldnt Serena see Detective Sexy already had an ego the size of Mars? Stroking it would turn it into a supernova.
He paid for the food, thanked Serena with what Iona guessed must have been the full dimple effectbecause the girls face went radioactivethen drove to the pick-up window.
Here, hold these. he passed her the two grease-spotted paper bags.
The delicious aroma of grilled meat and freshly fried potatoes swirled around Iona as he steered the car to a parking space one-handed while taking a loud slurp of his malt.
A giant chasm opened in her stomach and began to weep as she thrust the bags back as soon as the car was stationary. Why did you get two? she snapped, drool pooling under her tongue. I told you Im not hungry.
Was he trying to torture her?
Theyre both for me. He patted what appeared to be a washboard-lean stomach, the rueful twist of his lips mocking her. Stake-outs are hungry work and all Ive had since lunch is ten Twinkies and a gallon of Dr Pepper.
She glared across the console. My heart bleeds for you.
The mention of the sugary treats was torturous enough, but then he produced an enormous cheeseburger from one of the takeout bags.
The lurid orange substance that passed for cheese dripped from the sesame-seed bun as the savoury scent filled the car. The chasm in Ionas stomach yawned as his Adams apple bobbed up and down while he demolished the cheeseburger, then made equally fast work of the fries. The crunch of crisp golden potato and the heady fragrance sent her taste buds into overdrive.
He balled up the empty bag and flipped it into a bin outside the car window. She licked her lips as her stomach rolled into her throat.
One down, one to go.
He peered into the second bag, lifted out the last cheeseburger. Wrapping the serviette round one half, he brought it to his lips in slow motion.
Wait. Her hand shot out to grab hold of one thick wrist as the lion howled.
Something you want? His tone sounded strangely alluring in the darkness. Her tortured gaze met his mocking one.
YesI Her tongue swelled, the drool choking her. Please.
One dark eyebrow lifted. Please, what?
The bastard was going to make her beg.
Could I have a wee bite? She begged, ready to sacrifice her pride, her self-respect and anything else he might want for one little nibble.
The intensely blue gaze dipped as her teeth dug into her bottom lipand the pinpricks radiated up and out from all those inappropriate places. She dismissed her response. It had to be some weird physical reaction brought on by starvation.
She waited, ready for him to torture her some more, but to her relief his lips quirkedmaking the damn dimple wink at herand he handed over the precious burger. Knock yourself out.
She paused for a second as her fingers sank into the spongy bun, then ripped off a huge chunk with her teeth.
Her taste buds sang a hallelujah chorus as the meat juices and the creamy, salty cheese caressed her tongue. A low moan of gratification eased out round the mouthful of burger and his gaze locked on her mouth, the mocking smile gone.
She swallowed quickly and took another massive bite. She could feel the disturbingly intense gaze as she stuffed the rest of burger inbut she didnt care.
Let him be as appalled as he liked by her terrible table manners. She hadnt had a decent meal in days. And it hadnt been her idea to get kidnapped.
Why did that look so damn hot?
Heat shot into Zanes crotch as the wide full lips shone from the coating of grease.
Slow down, youll make yourself sick, he murmured.
She peered at him, her expression wary as she continued to devour the burger like a ravenous wolf. He shifted in his seat, suppressing the urge to lick off the trickle of juice dribbling down her chin. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping off the trickle, but the tug of arousal made it impossible to drag his gaze away.
I must seriously need to get laid.
Had it been six months since hed had that weekend fling in Sonora with Elena, the public defender? Six months wasnt that unusual for himhed always been choosy about his sexual partnersbut this time the abstinence had to be messing with his radar.
The girl was cute, no question. The slanting chocolate eyes, thick red-gold curls, her wide kissable mouth and pale freckled skin made a unique packagebut cute was hardly his type. And then there was the biggest turn-off of all. He was involved with her in a professional capacity. She was definitely a witness, possibly even a perp. And he never crossed that line. Ever.
The heat subsided as he watched her gulp down the last of the burger as if her life depended on it. Exactly how old was she? With that petal-soft skin it was hard to tell, but she could be a teenager.
He forced his gaze from her lips as he lifted the bag of fries off the dash, and passed them to her. How longs it been since you had a decent meal?
She stiffened. Not long, she said grudgingly but took the bag.
Yeah, right.
She popped the fries into her mouth, but continued to watch him, as if she expected him to snatch them back at any moment.
He suppressed the dart of compassion.
Grab a dose of reality, Montoya.
Shes no damsel in distressshes a resourceful little operator with her own agenda. Getting a job at Demarests motel had been a neat trick. And how the hell had she tracked the guy from Scotland, when theyd had trouble tracking him across California? Until he had the full story of how she fitted into the picture with Demarest, he didnt plan to trust her an inch.
But that didnt solve his immediate problem. What to do with her tonight? He hadnt planned much past getting her away from Demarests motel.
He couldnt take her back to Morro, and booking her into another motel wasnt an option either, because shed skip.
Of course he could dump her on the cops. But while handing her over would contain the problem, he couldnt quite bring himself to do it.
So how did you find out Demarest had a room at the Morro, Iona? he asked, deciding it was about time he started interrogating her properlyand stopped fixating on those damn lips.
She stopped shovelling fries into her mouth. How do you know my name? she said in that lilting Celtic brogue.
The motel clerk was real talkative when I told him about your crime spree with his key.
Her rich chocolate eyes went squinty with temper. You told him? How could you? Ill lose my job.
Youre not going back there anyway, he said, dismissing the prickle of guilt. He wasnt the one whod decided to indulge in some after hours B and E. I dont want you alerting Demarest to our presence.
Im not going to alert him. Why would I? She sounded aggrieved. How am I going to pay my bill now? They probably wont even give me the wages they owe me.
I settled your bill. Hed also paid the clerk to keep her valuables in the motel safe. If Demarest showed up tonight, he might not need the bargaining chip Ionas ID documents represented, but he had a feeling it wasnt gonna be that simple. Because nothing about this damn case had been simple so far.
And the biggest complication of all was sitting right in front of him.
A complication made a whole lot worse by his perverse reaction to her.
Hed never before got a kick out of manhandling a womaneven on the force hed earned the nickname Lancelot, because of his preference for using persuasion and persistence when interrogating female suspects, instead of threats and intimidation.
But there was no getting away from the fact that when hed caught her in Demarests room tonighthed noticed the generous breasts propped on his forearm and the fresh, subtle fragrance of her hair. And while he might have been able to ignore that momentary loss of controlbecause it had been six months since hed had a woman, any woman in his armsthat excuse was nowhere near good enough to explain why hed come close to getting a hard-on just watching her eat.
But you can kiss your paycheck goodbye, he said, making sure the chill stayed in his voice.
Her big brown eyes widened, making him feel as if hed just kicked Bambi.
Now stop arguing with me or Ill kick you out of the car and leave you in the middle of nowhere.
It was an empty threat, he wouldnt do that to any woman, especially not one who had no money, no ID, whod just devoured a burger as if she hadnt eaten in days and who had eyes like Bambi.
But instead of being cowed, she stuck her chin out. Fine, dump me here if you want. Ive no got a problem with that.
Damn, she was actually serious.
What kind of guys had she been dealing with? Then he thought of the seedy motel, and her connection to Demarest and had a pretty good idea.
Yeah, well, unfortunately I do.
Then take me back to the motel. Ill get my stuff and stay somewhere else. I wont interfere with your case, I swear. I want Brad caught as much as you do.
Maybe it was the flinty determination in her voice or the way her gaze never wavered. But he wanted to believe her.
Which only made him sure he shouldnt. Ten years on the force had taught him that trust was a dangerous thingand following your gut instead of having proof could get you killed.
He slid the car into reverse. Forget it. Youre staying where I can keep an eye on you.
Why? she said, the hitch in her voice telegraphing her shock. This is ridiculous. You dislike me as much as I dislike you.
Unfortunately he didnt dislike her nearly as much as he should, but he let the observation pass.
Her brow creased. All you have to do is trust me a little bit and we never have to lay eyes on each other again.
Trust you? He sent her a long look. You think?
Oh, for Petes sake, she hissed. I already told you Brad stole money from my father.
So it was Brad now.
I was trying to get it back, she finished, crossing her arms, and making her breasts plump up under the scoop neck of the tank.
Yeah, but I dont have a heck of a lot of proof. He dragged his eyes away from her cleavage. Annoyed with himself. And her. Was she doing that on purpose? And until I do, were stuck with each other.
He reversed out of the lot, deciding the argument was over.
Now hang on, she piped up. If you dont trust me, why the heck should I trust you? You say youre a private investigator, but for all I know you could be an axe-murderer.
I showed you my licence, he said, humouring her.
Which you could have had forged for you by axe-murderers.com.
His lips quirked at her tenacity, but he bit back the chuckle. The accusation wasnt funny, it was insulting.
He braked and pulled out his smartphone, then keyed in the number for the LAPD. He passed the phone to her as it started ringing. Ask for Detective Stone, or Detective Ramirez in Vice, whichever one is on shift. They can vouch for me.
He waited while she spoke to the dispatcher, and spent some time verifying that she was talking to a genuine LAPD officerand not one of his axe-murdering pals.
Smart girl.
Excuse me, Detective Ramirez, came her smoky voice when she got his former partner on the line. My name is Iona MacCabe and Im here with a man called Zane Montoya. He says hes a private detective and that you know him. Is that true? She listened for a moment, her teeth releasing her bottom lip as she nodded. Can you tell me what he looks like? Her gaze roamed over his face as she listened to Rams reply. Her scrutiny was sharp and dispassionate, and so unlike the glassy-eyed stares he had come to expect from women that something perverse happened. His nape heated, triggering a flash back to high school, when those glassy-eyed stares had allowed him to charm any girl he wanted into his bedor more often the back seat of his uncle Raouls Chevy.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
Damn it, Montoya. Get real. Youre not in high school any more and you dont want Iona MacCabe in your bed, or anywhere else.
All right, I guess this is the same guy, she murmured, that smoky accent only making him more uncomfortable. And youre sure hes no an axe-murderer?
Her eyebrows inched up her forehead and then she laughed, the sound low and amused and so unexpected it arrowed right through him.
He didnt even want to think what Ram had said. His ex-partner had a sense of humour coarsened by twenty-five years spent in a squad car and a locker room. It wasnt exactly subtle.
At last she passed him back his phone. Okay, you check out, she said a little grudgingly. The detective wants to speak to you.
Terrific.
Hey, Ram, he said without a lot of enthusiasm. He usually enjoyed shooting the breeze with the guy, but not now, not with this woman in the carwho was becoming way more of a complication than he needed.
Ramirezs amused voice boomed down the phone. Lancelot, man, whos the chiquita? She sounds cute.
Zane kept his eyes on Iona, and hoped she hadnt heard the dumb remark. Im on a case, man, he said sternly, relieved when Iona broke eye contact and stared out of the window, ignoring him.
Ill bet. The rusty laugh caused by two packs a day wheezed out as Ram replied. What happened, man? You finally find one you cant charm out of her panties with that pretty face of yours?
I appreciate you vouching for me, Ram, he said, wishing to hell it had been Stone on the late shift tonightwhose sense of humour was about as animated as his name. And ended the call.
He dumped the smartphone on the dash, tunnelled his fingers through his hair. This night had started badly and gone downhill from there.
Satisfied? he asked Iona.
I guess so, she said, sounding snotty again.
She wasnt the only one in a snit now, though.
He started the car and pulled out.
You still havent told me where were going.
Monterey, he said, being as vague as possible. Its about two hours drive so you might as well get comfortable.
And why are we going there?
I have a friend who owns some vacation rentals in Pacific Grove, he said, remembering the key he still had in his glove compartment to Nates property, which hed stayed at a month ago while his kitchen was being remodelled. He could stash her in the picturesque little cottage for tonight, then review his options.
Without a car, or any cash or ID, she wouldnt be able to get far. And it was close enough to his place on Seventeen Mile to be convenient.
You can stay there tonightand Ill bring over your stuff tomorrow.
When he planned to interrogate herand find out exactly what she knew about Demarest.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her he was taking her back to his place for the night. He had five bedrooms in the timber-and-glass beach house hed bought a year ago, and it was a little more remote than Pacific Grove. But hed kicked the idea into touch almost as soon as it had occurred to him.
He rarely did sleepovers, even with women he was dating. And hed sure as hell never had one he was planning to interrogate stay over. Plus, given his unpredictable reaction to Iona already, having her under his roof had the potential to turn a complication into a catastrophe.
And what if I dont want to stay at your friends vacation rental in Pacific Grove? she demanded.
I turn you over to the cops, he said, not sure why he wasnt doing that already. Your choice.
The weighty silence told him what his passenger thought about the proposed sleeping arrangements.
Why are you even giving me the option? she said at last, the note of caution making it clear shed accepted the lesser of two evils. I could wreck the place to spite you.
Good question, and not one he wanted to answer.
True enough, but youd be facing a lot more than a B and E charge when I caught you. He slanted her a long look, frustrated that he trusted her even though he didnt want toand letting every ounce of that frustration show. And I would catch you.
Her musical voice didnt pipe up again until they hit the coastal highway.
Fine, Ill stay where you put meuntil tomorrow. But only because I dont have a choice. The Celtic mist of her accent did nothing to disguise the annoyance. But Im not your chiquita. So dont get any funny ideas, Lancelot.
Zanes fingers tensed on the wheel until he could feel the stitching on the leather biting into his palms.
Gee, thanks, Ramirez.
CHAPTER TWO
THE VICARIOUS PLEASURE at getting the final word didnt last long when Montoyas only response was the creak of leatheras he held the steering wheel in a death grip.
Way to go, Iona. Why not draw attention to his reputation for charming women out of their knickers? Because thats just what you want, to make this encounter personal.
Did Ram say something dumb about me? he asked after twenty seconds that had stretched over several lifetimes.
Iona risked a glance at him. His eyes remained fixed on the road as if he were trying to burn off a layer of tarmac.
Maybe, she said carefully, feeling increasingly awkward. Why hadnt she kept her smart mouth shut?
With a face like that, the guy probably got hit on by supermodelsdespite his less-than-charming personalitywhich meant snide remarks about being indifferent to his charms probably made her sound delusional.
He sighed. Rams got a big mouth and he gets a kick out of busting my balls. Dont pay any attention to him.
The knot of tension in Ionas stomach released. He didnt sound angry; he sounded embarrassed.
So you dont have a reputation for charming the chiquitas out of their panties? she said, intrigued by his reaction.
Instead of taking the bait, he laughed. The low rumble of amusement shivered down her spine and re-ignited the stupid pinpricks shed been trying to forget.
I do, he conceded. But I didnt do a whole lot to earn it.
She didnt believe him. Either he was being falsely modest, or he was lying. From the lazy, casually seductive tone hed slipped into so effortlessly, shed bet he could charm the average chiquita out of her panties from five hundred paces.
Ramirez tends to exaggerate my exploits. He protested a bit too much. Because hes been happily married for twenty-five years. He sent her a dimpled smile and the pinpricks were toast. Dont worry, Iona, youre safe with me.
The pulse of awareness that warmed the air at his softly spoken guarantee had her nipples hardening under the thin black camisole. She folded her arms over the tell-tale buds and cursed the knee-jerk thought that she wouldnt completely object to a little danger.
Good to know, she replied, trying to convince herself she was grateful he had no designs on her panties.
Given her disastrous relationship history, the last thing she needed right now was to develop some ridiculous crush on Detective Sexy. She was already at enough of a disadvantage with the man.
So how did Demarest manage to relieve your old man of twenty-five grand? he asked, sliding effortlessly from charm offensive back to cop mode.
Why do you ask? she said, attempting to deflect the question. While shed much rather be dealing with Montoya the cop, than Montoya the pantie charmer, she had no intention of revealing the grim details of her affair with Brad.
Its not Demarests usual MO.
What is his usual MO?
He paused, and she had the uneasy feeling he had seen right through the stalling tactic. All the victims we questioned were women, mostly over fifty, recently divorced or widowed. He poses as a producer, gives them a line about casting them in his latest movie, sweetens the deal with a little recreational sex and then asks for an investment.
The flush spread up Ionas throat at Montoyas matter-of-fact statement. But she managed to choke back the urge to correct him.
Sex with Brad had been the opposite of recreational, at least in her experience. Hed been rough and demanding, but because hed been her ticket out of Kelross Glen, shed wanted to please him. Her stomach sank to her toes, her scalp burning at the memory of how hard shed tried. Hard enough to persuade herself she actually liked Brad.
When Brad had dangled the carrot of knowing a wealthy benefactor in LA who might be keen to commission her artwork, shed had no qualms about mentioning the opportunity to her Dad. But while her gullibility made her sick with shame, it was the way shed let Brad use her in bed that made her feel sordid.
Demarests a sick bastard, Montoya continued. The moneys not the main kick for him, its sleeping with the women hes exploiting, Montoya hesitated. Which is why Im wondering how your old man fits into that? Where was the kick?
She flinched at the perceptive comment. Montoya wasnt buying it. Had he guessed her father hadnt been the real mark? And why did the thought that he might find out the truth only make her feel a thousand times more unclean?
It really shouldnt matter what this man knew or didnt know. He was a stranger. And she didnt even like him. In anything other than a hormonal sense, she added grudgingly.
But somehow it did matter.
Demarest was going to make a tourist film for my dad, she said, remembering one of Brads earlier carrotsthat her father hadnt taken. We have a gift shop in Kelross. Demarest suggested making a movie about the history of the place for US investors, she added. It had almost been true.
How long was this movie going to be?
Im not sure She scrabbled around trying to remember if Brad had even got that far with the con. An hour, maybe.
An hour? For twenty-five grand? He gave an incredulous laugh. Your old man sounds like an easy mark.
Iona bristled, knowing shed been the easiest mark of all. He just doesnt know much about movie making. And unfortunately neither did she.
Although it still seems kind of weird, Montoya murmured, the continued scepticism making her tense. For there not to be a woman in there somewhere. He bumped his thumb against the steering wheel, the insistent tapping making Iona feel like Captain Hook listening to the tick-tock of the approaching crocodile. What about your mother? Where does she fit into the picture?
The question was so unexpected, she answered without thinking. Nowhere. She ran off when I was small. We havent seen her since.
The recently eaten burger turned over as the ugly truth made her feel suddenly vulnerable, scraping at an old wound. A scabbed over, forgotten wound that she thought had healed years ago.
Thats tough. Montoyas gruff condolence only made her feel more exposed.
Not that tough. I can barely remember her, she lied, ashamed of having revealed too much, too easily.
She curled away from him, gazed at the stars sprinkled over the dark line of the cliffs, and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of her motherso beautiful, so careless and so indifferent.
Dont think about her. Youve got quite enough to deal with already.
Fatigue made her eyelids gritty. She blinked furiously, determined to stay awake. She couldnt afford to give into sleep yet, because that would mean trusting Montoya and shed known ever since she was a child she shouldnt trust anyone.
And her experience with Brad had only confirmed that.
Montoya didnt offer any more useless platitudes or ask any more probing questions. Something she was pathetically grateful for as she pressed her cheek into the soft leather, listened to the soothing hum of the cars engineand plummeted into a dreamless sleep.
Zane braked gently in the driveway of the small cottageand studied his sleeping passenger.
Shed dropped off like a stone an hour ago, and hadnt made a sound since. The engine stilled and the only sound was the chirp of crickets and night crawlers and the distant hum of a passing car. He unclicked her seatbelt, eased it over her bare shoulder and got a lungful of her scent.
The fresh fragrance of baby talc and some flowery soap mixed with the sultry scent of her invaded his senses, and the inevitable pulse of arousal hit.
He tensed, annoyed with his inability to control the response. The cottages nightlight illuminated her pale face and the varying shades of red in her unruly hair. The thick lashes resting on her cheeks and the even breathing made her look impossibly young. The heat subsided as he imagined her as a kid, losing her mother. The dart of sympathy was sharp and undeniable.
What would he have done if Maria had abandoned him? And shed had more cause than any mother.
He shook his head, to dispel the thought.
Dont make this personal, Montoya. Youre having enough trouble keeping a professional distance.
He didnt even know how old she was. Or how much of her story was true.
And exactly how mixed up with Demarest was she? Shed lied to him about the con. Hed spotted it straight away, the hitch in her breathing, the hesitation as she stumbled over the explanation. Had she been the mark all along? Was that why shed been so determined to get her fathers money back? Because she felt responsible for the loss? Exactly how much danger had she put herself in, while tracking Demarest?
And why did the thought of that bother him so much?
She wasnt his problem, not in the long-term.
He retrieved the key buried in the glove compartment. Then thrust a hand through his hair as it occurred to him he was glad she was here tonight, and under his protection, instead of back at that seedy motel.
He got out of the car, walked around to the passenger door and stared at her cuddled into the seat. he should shake her awake, get her to go into the cottage under her own steam, but she looked so peaceful, he couldnt do it.
Without giving himself too much time to think, he scooped her into his arms.
The sultry scent enveloped him as he carried her onto the cottages porch. She let out a puff of breath and her soft hair brushed against his chin as she burrowed into his chest like a thrusting child.
He fumbled with the key, pushed the door open with his foot and stepped into the dark interior, an emotion he didnt like banding across his chest.
She didnt stir as he placed her on the small queen-size in the cottages only bedroom, untied the laces on her combat boots and slipped them off, then covered her with the throw before he got fixated on the slow rise and fall of her breasts beneath the tank.
He found a note pad in the kitchen, scribbled a note and pinned it to the corkboard above the fridge. Unplugging the phone and tucking it under his arm, he walked out of the door, closing and locking it behind him. Then dropped the key through the letter slot.
As he drove back to his place he sent a voicemail to Nates business line, to inform him of his new house guest, and left one with his PA.
If they didnt pick up Demarest tonight, he was diverting every free man he had to the case tomorrow. He needed to get this damn case closed, before it got any more complicated.
CHAPTER THREE
Stay put, Ill be back tomorrow to tell you whats going to happen next.
Montoya
IONA RAN HER fingers through her damp curls, tucked the towel between her breasts and glared at the thick black writingparticularly the shouty capitals.
Where did Detective Sexy get off giving her orders like a pet dog?
No one told her what to do. Shed been taking care of herself since she was ten years old. And taking care of her dad too. And okay, maybe she hadnt exactly been doing a stellar job of it of late, but that hardly gave him the right to treat her as if she were his to command.
And what exactly did he mean by to tell you whats going to happen next?
She struggled to hold on to her indignation and ignore the little blip of disappointment at the fact that so far the only person shed seen was one of his detectives. A rotund guy called Jim with a gruff but friendly manner, whod woken her up an hour ago to deliver a bag of groceries, her rucksackconspicuously minus her purse and passportand the news that Mr Montoya was busy with the case but would be in touch later in the day.
Pulling the note off the corkboard, she scrunched it up and dumped it in the kitchen bin. Well, hooray for Mr Montoyait must be nice to get to order everyone around like a demigod.
Goosebumps rose on her arms. She marched back into the cottages tiny living area and grabbed fresh underwear, jeans and a T-shirt from her rucksack. Hed better bring her passport when he showed up or there would be trouble. Returning to the compact bedroom, she hunted around for her boots, then stopped dead when she spotted themplaced neatly together on the rug by the bedside table, the laces undone.
Her heartbeat bumped her throat as a picture formed in her minds eye. The picture shed been holding at bay ever since shed been woken up by the sound of knocking at the front door, snuggled cosy and content and well rested under a clean quilt that smelled pleasantly of fabric conditioner.
The picture of Montoya carrying her into the cottage, taking off her boots and then covering her with said quilt.
The pulse of reaction skittered up her spine, making the pinpricks shimmer back to life and party with the goosebumps.
She swallowed heavily, trying to ease the ache in her throat.
The thought of being fast asleep in his arms was disturbing enough, but much worse was the thought of him putting her to bed so carefully.
When was the last time anyone had bothered to treat her with that much care and attention? Her father had been unable to care for himself after her mother left, let alone her. So at ten years old, shed become the parentcaring for both of them while he struggled to pull himself back from the brink of depression. Shed had a few boyfriends before Brad, but theyd been young and recklessproviding nothing more than the easy thrill of youthful companionship. And as for her brief liaison with Brad, well Brad had been a user, always quick to take, never willing to give.
Big deal. He just took your boots off for you.
Perching on the edge of the bed, she grabbed one of the boots and shoved it on, staunching the ridiculous tide of her thoughts.
Zane Montoya didnt care about her; he just cared about his case. And she didnt care about him either. So why was she turning one moment of consideration into a primetime drama?
She returned to the kitchenette and began taking the groceries out of the brown paper bag Jim had delivered, determined to put the moment of vulnerability behind her and concentrate on finding a solution to her situation.
She almost wept with joy when she found a tin of coffee. She filled the kettle, looking out of the window to find a sweet little patio garden carpeted with climbing vines. As the rich smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen, a strange contentment settled over her.
The cottage was tiny, but so clean and prettyand completely adorable compared to the dives shed been forced to stay in of late. Pouring herself a steaming cup, she smiled as a hummingbird fluttered into view and settled over the bright yellow pegonias in the window box, and began gathering nectar in its long beak. Putting down the mug, she rushed back into the living room and dug out her art supplies, her palms itching to detail the blurred lines of the birds movement in the static medium of paper and graphite. Settling in front of the kitchen window, she sketched furiously, trying to capture as much as she could before the bird disappeared. As the hummingbird flitted from flower to flower and the clear lines began to form on the heavy paper the leaden feeling of failure that had bowed her shoulders for so long began to lift.
She relaxed as the bird flew off, and gazed at her drawings. More than enough to create a detailed watercolour later. Refilling her now lukewarm coffee, she took a muffin out of the deli-bag on the counter and realised that for the first time in a long time she felt the bright sheen of possibility peeking out from under the dead weight of failure.
And she had Detective Sexy to thank for that.
When he appeared, she would be conciliatory instead of combative. The truth was, shed been aggressive and unnecessarily snotty with him last night. Because shed been exhausted, hungry and terrifiedshe might as well admit it. But shed had her first full nights sleep in weeks. Which meant she owed Montoyahowever high-handed hed been with his little note.
But once shed thanked Montoya and was on her own again, the bigger picture was more complicated. Still, now she was well rested her prospects didnt seem nearly as bleak as they had seemed last night.
She had some money left and a work visa that lasted another five months. There was no reason why she couldnt look for a better place to live now, away from the seedy motels Brad frequented. And perhaps sell a few more sketches. Shed managed to sell all the hand-painted postcards shed produced in the cafs along Morro Bays Main Street, but keeping an eye on Brads motel room had meant she hadnt had time to replenish her work. But now she was free of Brad-surveillance she could actually devote herself to finding a decent job and spend her evenings sketching. Monterey was supposed to be arty and bohemianas well as being a tourist mecca. Surely there were bound to be places she could sell her stuff and look for a job. The summer season was only weeks away, so casual work shouldnt be too hard to find.
The most important thing of all, and the main reason shed come to America to track Brad, was to stop her dad from ever finding out that hed been conned again by someone he trusted. And while she most likely wouldnt be able to get him his money back, she could still achieve that much.
Shed told her father she was travelling to LA at Brads invitation, that her new man had come through with his promises of a showcase for her work. Even though the lie had nearly choked her at the time, it had kept her father happy. And while getting a gallery showing had always been a foolish pipe dream, in five months if she worked hard and applied herself she might be able to return home with at least some money to replace what her father had lostand a small degree of success to show for his bogus investment.
She frowned as she grabbed another muffin. But first she had to convince Montoya she was of no significance to his case. To do that, she needed to be polite and cooperativeand keep things impersonal.
Wiping the crumbs off the surface and rinsing out her coffee mug, she picked up her sketch pad again, feeling almost euphoric. Until Montoya arrived, she planned to indulge herself and do what she loved for a change.
Zane tucked the cottages phone under his arm and rapped on the front door. The early evening light beamed off polished wood but as he peered inside it was obvious there was no one in the front room.
He rolled his shoulders as the muscles cramped. He hoped shed done as she was told and stayed put. After the day hed put in already, the last thing he needed now was to have to scour Pacific Grove for her.
The original plan had been to swing by first thing that morning. But after having his nights sleep disturbed by way too many sweaty dreams involving firm breasts, wide caramel-coloured eyes, worn tank tops and full kissable lips glossy with burger grease, hed held off, and sent Jim to deliver the groceries instead.
Iona MacCabe had an unpredictable effect on him, and until he figured out whatif anythinghe was going to do about it, keeping his distance was the smart choice.
Then the case had exploded at ten when Demarest had shown up at the Morro Moteland all hell had broken loose. Zane had been tied up with the Morro Bay PD for the rest of the day, handing over the case files and contacting the LAPD to make sure Demarest got transferred there before the day was out. As a courtesy, Stone and Ramirez had let him observe their interrogations. He massaged the back of his neck to ease the tension headache that had been building ever since.
Just as hed guessed after their original profiling, in the interview Demarest had been slick and supremely arrogant. But he soon lost control under pressure, and proved how volatile and dangerous he was.
Zane shuddered. What the hell had Iona been thinking breaking into the guys room? What would have happened to her, if it had been Demarest whod caught her last night and not him? At some point he planned to give her a damn good talking to about personal safety.
The thought of any woman being at the guys mercy had sickened himbut worse had been the moment when theyd questioned Demarest about his trip to Scotland. Demarest had laughed and boasted about the Scottish girl whod been begging for it and Zane had been forced to walk outthe urge to leap through the mirrored partition and strangle the guy triggering the sickening memory that had haunted him most of his adult life.
He eased the kinks out of his shoulders and rapped again.
He should be feeling great now. Six months work had finally paid off and Montoya Investigations was in line for a nice fat bonus payment. Plus his firm had been instrumental in catching one of the nastiest and most parasitic low lives in California and bringing him to book. But somehow it didnt feel like enoughbecause it could never undo the damage the bastard had done.
He squinted through the clouded glass again, and a little of the tension dissolved as he spotted the petite silhouette coming to the door from the back of the house. Then the door swung open and the punch of lust hit full force.
The setting sun glinted on her hair, highlighting the different shades of red, and making her skin almost transparent. Her rich caramel eyes glowed with energy, and, while the wary caution of the night before was still there, the bruised shadows underneath were gone. In a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt that hugged the generous breasts he recalled a little too well pressing against his forearm, her feet encased in the boots hed taken off her the night before, she should have looked like a tomboy. She didnt.
Hello, Mr Montoya. Sorry I didnt hear you knockingI was in the back garden. The Celtic lilt and the hitch in her breathing called to his inner caveman.
Down, Montoya. Youre here on business. Not pleasure. However tempted you might be to stray over that line.
He noticed the pad under her arm, which was covered in a series of intricate drawings of a small bird.
Youre an artist? he asked, although the answer was obvious from the quality of the work.
Yes, I She shrugged. I specialise in drawing flora and fauna. Its a passion of mine.
She stumbled over the word passion and two pink flags appeared on her cheekbones, making the sprinkle of freckles on her nose more vivid.
A passion, huh? he said, not quite able to hold back the grin when she squirmed. So he wasnt the only one struggling to remain professional.
Good to know.
Come in, Mr Montoya, she said, the cool, polite tone disconcerting as she stepped back and held the door open. He wondered what had happened to the firebrand hed met last night.
The names Zane. He dumped the phone on the coffee table. I brought this in case you want to call your father. You got the groceries okay this morning?
Yes, you should tell me what I owe you for them, she said, the cool tone turning chilly. Although its going to be hard to pay you without my purse.
He tugged her purse and passport out of his back pocket. But when she reached for them, he lifted them above her head. Not so fast. Ill need your word youre not going to run off.
The beguiling almond-shaped eyes narrowed. And the firebrand came out of hiding.
And what would you be needing my word for? she asked, propping her hands on her hips and making her breasts flatten against the tight T-shirt. If you dont believe a single thing I say?
Itll go some way to putting my suspicious mind at rest, he said, enjoying the view probably a bit too much.
The fire in her eyes flared. Is it just me you dont trust? she asked her tone dripping with sarcasm. Or do you have this low an opinion of all women, Mr Montoya?
He choked out a laugh. No one had ever accused him of that before. Especially not a woman. But then Iona MacCabe was turning out to be an original in more ways than one.
His gaze wandered over her face and he watched with satisfaction as her cheeks pinkened. On the contrary, I have a very high opinion of women.
The pulse of awareness warmed the air as her cheeks heated to a dull red. And pert nipples protruded against the T-shirt.
It was a crisp spring evening outside, but the sun shining through the cottages front window meant the atmosphere was warm and close.
She crossed her arms to cover the stiff buds.
Too late, your secrets out, querida. Youre no more immune to me than I am to you.
In fact, he added, I cant think of a single thing about women I dont enjoy.
Professionalism be damned. Iona McCabe was too cute to resist flirting with.
So perhaps we should start overand forget about last night. He held out his hand. Zane Montoya, at your service.
Suspicion clouded her eyes, but then she thrust her slim hand into his much larger, much darker one. He clasped her fingers for barely a second, the handshake quick and impersonal, but the cool, soft touch of her skin contrasted sharply with the arrow of heat that darted straight to his groin.
She stuffed her hand into the back pocket of the jeans. But her pupils dilated with something he recognised only too well, before her gaze flickered away.
You felt it too.
Endorphins flowed freely through his system. Hed always been a connoisseur of women, in all their myriad and wonderful varieties. Which was why he didnt have a type. But for some reason, this girl hit all his happy buttons, without even trying.
And he was through fighting it.
As of today, Demarest was in a cell and would be for a very long time. The case was closed as far as Montoya Investigations was concerned. So there was no professional reason why he shouldnt push a few of her happy buttons right back.
Ive got some news on the case, Iona, he said, planning to ask her if she wanted to discuss it over dinner, but before he could say any more her head shot up.
News about Brad?
He frowned, his happy buttons not feeling all that happy any more. We picked him up at ten this morning. Hes in a cell facing more charges than he can count.
I see. Her voice sounded casual, but then she fixed him with that cautious gaze and he knew it wasnt. Did he have any of my dads money on him?
He shook his head and her face fell.
Right. She looked down, but not before he saw the shadow of distress.
He shoved his hand into his pocket, resisting the urge to run his finger down her cheek, and stroke the distress away.
For one tense moment he thought she might cry. But then she seemed to pull herself back from the brink.
Well, I guess this is where we part company, then, Montoya, she murmured.
Something tugged hard under his breastbone. And that surprised him.
The threat of female tears didnt usually faze him, but there was something about Iona McCabes stoicismand those sultry eyes, so large and wary in her small facethat had fazed him.
She let out a weighty sigh. Do you think it would be okay for me to stay here another night? I could pay any rent thats due.
His sympathy dissolved. She looked scared but defiant, like a puppy who expected to be kicked but was determined not to yelp.
He didnt deserve that.
He trusted her. In fact, she sort of fascinated him. She was feisty and unpredictable And refreshingly transparent and he hadnt been able to get his mind off her, even though hed tried. But it was real clear that however attracted she might be to him, she didnt trust him. And while hed understood her animosity last night, he was finding it hard not to take it personally now.
Damn it, Iona, you can stay here as long as you need. In fact, he planned to insist on it. She might think she was safe, but he knew different. A woman alone was always vulnerable, but especially a woman as impulsive as her. And theres no chargethe place was empty anyway.
Why would you do that? Im not your responsibility. She sounded genuinely confused, making his annoyance increase.
Because, weirdly enough, Im not the kind of guy who kicks women when theyre down. Unlike your pal Brad.
Okay, well, thank you, I appreciate not having to leave tonight, she said. But then her chin stuck out in a stubborn show of strength. But Ill make sure Im gone by tomorrow.
I dont think so. Not until Im sure youll be safe.
He bit back the retort, seeing the mutinous expression on her face. In his experience, pushing her only made her push back. And anyhow, he didnt want to argue with her. Not tonight.
How about we talk about it over dinner in Santa Cruz? I know a place that does the best enchiladas on the West Coast.
Her face went completely blank for a second and she blinked, her eyes going round with astonishment.
That had sure shut her up.
Youre n-not serious? she stammered, her accent thickening.
Damn, shes even cuter when shes flustered.
Had Detective Sexy just asked her on a date? Or was she hallucinating?
Im always serious about Manuels enchiladas, he replied, while the tempting glint in his eye implied the opposite. My treat, he continued, apparently not the least bit bothered by her shock.
But then she suspected he was probably used to that reaction from women.
What with that devastating facenot to mention that subtle I-can-have-you-any-time-I-want-you smileshe already knew he was an expert at charming women out of their panties. Shed only got a glimpse of his charm the night beforebut she was standing in the full glare of it now, and getting a little light-headed.
Then she made the mistake of drawing a breath into her lungs. The fresh scent of laundry soap, a zesty hint of aftershave and something musky and entirely masculine drifted up her nostrils.
Good Lord, hes got so many lets-get-naked hormones pumping off him, I can actually smell them.
She pressed her arms into her breasts as her traitorous nipples began to ache.
But why? she began, struggling to come up with a coherent response.
He leaned forward and whispered, Because Im starving, querida. Arent you?
His breath feathered her earlobe and sent the pinpricks careering down her neck and straight into her nether regions. She drew her head back, and got fixated on those penetrating blue eyes. She didnt answer the question, because she was fairly certain they werent talking about enchiladas any more.
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, (https://www.litres.ru/heidi-rice/too-close-for-comfort/) .
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Heidi Rice
Rescued by a bone-meltingly handsome stranger!After a run-in with a Californian con-man, Scottish Iona MacCabe has no money and nowhere to go. She quickly discovers LA can be a very unfriendly city without tons of hard cash Millionaire security expert Zane Montoya can hardly leave a pretty Scottish tourist at a dodgy motel to fend for herself. His long-lost chivalrous side takes over: he turns on the legendary Montoya charm and whisks Iona away to upscale Monterey.Independent, wilful Iona might be spitting daggers at being rescued, but that doesnt stop the sexual heat between them reaching scorching point! Zanes used to keeping all his women at arms length, and Ionas way too close for comfort but Zane only realises his long-held emotional detachment is at risk once its too lateMy favourite author, Heidi captures the imagination like no other! Charlotte, 40, Finance Manager
Now, stop arguing with me or Ill kick you out of the car and leave you in the middle of nowhere.
It was an empty threat. He wouldnt do that to any womanespecially not one who had no money, no ID, whod just bolted down a burger as if she hadnt eaten in days and had eyes like Bambi.
But instead of being cowed she stuck her chin out. Fine. Dump me here if you want. Ive no got a problem with that.
Damn, she was actually serious.
What kind of guys had she been dealing with? Then he thought of the seedy motel and had a pretty good idea.
Yeah? Well, unfortunately I do.
Then take me back to the motel. Ill get my stuff and stay somewhere else.
Maybe it was the flinty determination in her voice, or the way her gaze never wavered, but he wanted to believe her.
Which only made him sure he shouldnt. Ten years on the force had taught him that trust was a dangerous thingand following your gut instead of having proof could get you killed.
He slid the car into Reverse. Forget it. Youre staying where I can keep an eye on you.
About the Author
HEIDI RICE was born and bred and still lives in London, England. She has two boys who love to bicker, a wonderful husband who, luckily for everyone, has loads of patience, and a supportive and ever-growing British/French/Irish/American family. As much as Heidi adores the Big Smoke, she also loves America, and every two years or so she and her best friend leave hubby and kids behind and Thelma and Louise it across the States for a couple of weeks (although they always leave out the driving off a cliff bit). Shes been a film buff since her early teens, and a romance junkie for almost as long. She indulged her first love by being a film reviewer for ten years. Then a few years ago she decided to spice up her life by writing romance. Discovering the fantastic sisterhood of romance writers (both published and unpublished) in Britain and America made it a wild and wonderful journey to her first Mills & Boon
novel.
Heidi loves to hear from readersyou can e-mail her at heidi@heidi-rice.com, or visit her website: www.heidi-rice.com
Recent titles by the same author:
ONE NIGHT, SO PREGNANT!
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE WILD
ON THE FIRST NIGHT OF CHRISTMAS
CUPCAKES AND KILLER HEELS
Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Too Close
for Comfort
Heidi Rice
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Special thanks go to fellow authors Scarlet Wilson and Libby Mercer for their help in making my Scottish heroine and my Californian hero sound real (I hope).
And to the lovely Roberto, who gave me an invaluable insight into the culture and traditions of Californias Mexican-American communityany mistakes in the portrayal are entirely mine.
CHAPTER ONE
HEY, MITCH, WAS there anything on a kid in Demarests file? About five-two or-three, hundred and ten pounds?
Zane Montoya squinted into the shadows of the motel parking lot, trying to make out any other usable details. But whoever the kid was, he was being real careful not to stray into the pools of light cast by the streetlamps, making the fine hairs on Zanes neck prickle. Hed been staking out Brad Demarests motel room for five hourstaking over right after Mitch had called in with the fluand Montoya Investigations had been on the guys tail for six months now. Getting the tip that this by-the-hour motel on the outskirts of Morro Bay was Demarests latest bolt hole had been their first break in weeks. And his gut was telling him the kid was casing the joint. And he didnt like it, because if Demarest showed up the last thing Zane needed was some little troublemaker alerting the guy to their presenceor, worse, spooking him before they could do a citizens arrest.
Is this kid a girl or a boy? Mitchs voice croaked.
Dont you think I would have? Zanes frustrated whisper cut off as the kid stepped back and the yellow glow of the streetlamp illuminated a sprinkle of freckles, vivid red-and-gold curls springing out from under a low-riding ball cap and the curve of a full breast beneath the skintight black tank she wore over camo trousers and boots. Its a girl.
A girl who had to be up to no good. Why else would she be dressed up like GI Jane?
Make that a young womaneighteen to twenty-fiveCaucasian with red shoulder-length hair.
The girl melted into the shadows as he tried to picture the intriguing features hed glimpsed on a mugshot.
She doesnt look familiar, he murmured, more to himself than Mitch.
Hed reread Demarests file while gorging himself on the endless supply of junk food Mitch had stashed in the glove compartment, but he couldnt remember any of Demarests known associates fitting her description.
Mitch gave a weighty sigh. If shes hanging round his motel room, shes probably another mark.
I dont think soshes too young, Zane replied. And way too cute. He cut off the thought. If she was mixed up with Demarest, she couldnt be that cute. A one-time B-movie producer whod taken a brief detour into porn before finding a more lucrative income duping rich women by promising to make them movie stars, Demarest was a typical LA parasite. But this kid with her pale skin, her freckles, her silicone-free breasts and her furtive activities looked anything but his typical mark.
Dont be too sure, Mitch replied. The guy cast a wide net and he wasnt choosy.
Oh, hell, Zane muttered as the girl approached the door to Demarests room. Call Jim for back-up, he added sharply. And get him over here now.
Has Demarest showed up? Mitchs croak rippled with excitement.
No. Thank God. But Jimll have to take over the surveillance. Weve got trouble. He glared across the lot, his irritation levels rising as his stomach sank. Because whoever the heck she is, shes just broken into his motel room.
He shoved the cell into his back pocket as he lurched out of the car and headed across the parking lot.
Just what he needed after five hours sitting in a damn carA GI Jane lookalike with freckles on her nose screwing up a six-month-operation.
Iona MacCabe eased the door open, and clutched a sweaty palm around the skeleton key shed spent a week doing the job from hell to get hold of. The tiny strip of light coming through the curtains was alive with dust motes, but didnt give her much of an idea of the rooms contents bar the two queen-size beds.
Her heart pounded into her throat at the footstep behind her, but as she whipped round to slam the door a tall figure blocked the doorway.
Brad!
Her stomach hit her tonsils as the apparition shot out a hand and wedged the door open.
I dont think so, came the gruff voicetight with anger.
Not Brad.
The knee-watering shaft of relief was quickly quashed as an arm banded round her waist. Her back hit a chest like a brick wall, knocking the wind out of her, as he lifted her off her feet.
Let go, she squeaked, her reflexes engaging as the shadow man hefted her backwards.
What the hell do you think youre doing? she yelped as he kicked the motel door shut and carted her across the parking lot to who knew where.
The muscular arm tightened under her breasts and her lungs seized as she figured out that getting abducted might actually be worse than being caught by Bradthe thieving love rat.
Im stopping a felony in progress, the disembodied voice growled. Now shut up, because thisll go a lot worse for you if someone spots us.
She grabbed his arm and tried to prise it loose, but he was holding her too tightly for her to get any leverage. The tensile strength under her fingertips made the panic kick up a notch. She heard the heavy clunk of a car door opening and began to struggle in earnest. He was kidnapping her.
No way!
Shed come five thousand miles, lived on her wits for a fortnight, been cleaning toilets for a week in the grottiest motel in the world and hadnt had a decent meal since the day before yesterday, only to get murdered by a nutjob in a motel car park a few feet from her goal.
Fury overtook the panic. If you dont put me down this instant Ill yell my head off, she whispered, then wondered why she was whisperingand why she was giving him a warning.
She drew in a breath and a callused palm slapped over her mouth. The ear-splitting scream choked off into an ineffectual grunt.
She kicked furiously, but only connected with air, as the scent of something clean and intensely male cut through the aroma of rotting garbage that hung in the night air.
He doesnt smell like a low life.
The thought disconcerted her long enough for him to twist round and dump her into the passenger seat of the car.
With his hand no longer cutting off her air supply, she hitched in a shaky breathonly to have the palm cover her mouth again. His forearm held her immobile.
She tried to bite him, but her jaws were wedged shut. His dark head loomed over her, the features still disguised by the shadowsand her heart battered her ribs with the force of a sledgehammer.
The enticing scent enveloped her as he hissed next to her ear. You let out a single sound and Im going to arrest you on the spot.
Arrest.
Her mind grabbed hold of the word.
Hes a cop. He wont kill me.
But while her heart stopped pummelling, the panic still crawled across her skin and made sweat trickle between her breasts.
Not being murdered thousands of miles from home was good. But getting caught by a cop breaking into Brads room was definitely bad. The temporary work visa shed spent two months getting a hold of would be revoked. She could get deported and then shed have no chance of getting even a fraction of the twenty-five thousand pounds of her dads money Brad had absconded with.
Nod if you understand me? he said again, low and apparently seriously pissed off.
She nodded, her fingers curling around the key shed used to get into Brads room. She slid the key under her bottom.
He lifted his hand and she sucked in a deep breath.
Why didnt you identify yourself as a cop sooner? she demanded in a furious whisper, deciding attack was the best form of defenceand a good way to distract him until she could get away from him. You scared ten years off my life.
Im not a cop, Im a private investigator. He tugged something out of his back pocket and flipped it open. She guessed the card he was showing her was some form of ID, not that she could see it any better than she could see him in the darkness.
Now put your seatbelt on, were leaving.
Outrage welled up her throat as he shut the car door, skirted the bonnet, climbed into the drivers seat and turned on the ignition.
Hes not even a proper cop?
She grasped the dash as the car reversed out of its slot. Hang on a minutewhere are you taking me? Maybe shed been a bit hasty assuming he wasnt a kidnapper.
Put the seatbelt on now or Ill put it on for you.
No, I will not, she announced as he drove down the block of doorways and braked in front of the motel office. I have a room and a job here. Im not going anywhere. And if youre only a fake cop you cant make me.
She reached for the door handle, intending to dive out. But he leaned across her, the roped muscle of his arm skimming her breast, and clamped his hand over hers on the door handle.
Youre not staying here any more. The menacing growl was so full of suppressed anger she flinched. And I can make you. Just try me.
She tried to flex her fingers, the iron-hard grip merely tightened.
Let go now, he murmured, his minty breath feathering her earlobe and making her nape tingle. Or so help me, Im calling this in and to hell with the investigation.
I cant, she snapped back, her anger not quite as controlled as his. Youre holding on too tightly.
He released her hand and she let go of the handle, shaking her numb fingers in a bid to restore the blood supply before she got gangrene. That hurt. I think you may have crushed a finger.
The huff of breath suggested he didnt care if he had.
A large, square open palm appeared under her nose. Now hand over the key.
What key? she squeaked, struggling to sound innocent while the key burned into her left bum cheek.
The key thats under your butt. He snapped his fingers, making her jump despite her best efforts to remain aloof. Youve got ten seconds or Im going to get it myself.
And then he started to count. Her nipples tingled at the memory of his forearm wedged under her breasts.
She retrieved the key and slapped it into his palm, conceding defeat at the unpleasant thought of those long, strong fingers delving under her bottom.
There, fine, are you satisfied now? she asked, disgusted with herself as well as him. I had to scrub fifty toilets to get that. And believe me, the toilets in this dump need more than their fair share of elbow grease.
The scoffing sound sent another inappropriate prickle of reaction shooting up her spine.
What the heck was wrong with her? This guy was the opposite of sexy. Clearly a fortnight spent living on a shoestring budget doing dead-end jobs in an alien, unfriendly country had melted her brain cells.
Dont go anywhere, he said, getting out of the car. You wont like me if I have to come get you.
She folded her arms across her chest, tense with indignation. I dont like you now.
He gave a humourless chuckle.
Iona glared at his back as he walked into the motel office and indulged in a brief fantasy of running off into the night. But as his tall frame stepped into the officeand the lean athletic build rippling under a tan polo shirt and dark trousers became apparent under the harsh strip lightingshe let the fantasy go.
After a ten-minute conversation with Greg, the night clerk, he strolled back towards her, silhouetted by moonlight again. As he approached she became painfully aware of the mile-wide shoulders, narrow hips, long legs and the predatory stride.
Flipping heck.
Whoever this guy was, he was a lot stronger and bigger than she wasand she already knew he didnt mind using his physical advantage. Which meant she was going to have to wait to make a clean getaway.
He paused next to the car and pulled out a smartphone. As he talked into the device, the blue light from the neon Vacancy sign hit his face.
Iona gasped. Her abductor could make a living as a male supermodel.
A bubble of hysteria built under her breastbone as she stared at the firm sensual lips, the aquiline nose with a slight bump at the bridge, the sculpted angular cheekbones, the olive-toned skin and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He glanced towards her and her lungs stopped as she absorbed the deep sapphire-blue of his eyes and the unusual dark blue rim around the irises. Was that a trick of the light? Even Daniel Craigs eyes werent that blue. Surely?
He finished the callnot a word of which shed managed to catch due to the loud buzzing in her ears from a lack of oxygenand slipped the smartphone back into his pocket.
He settled into the drivers seat, thankfully casting his stunning face into darkness again.
She looked away and concentrated on breathing. So what if he was better looking than Adonis? He was still a bullying jerk.
She repeated the mantra in her head as he drove off without acknowledging her.
If its not too much to ask, she said as they left the motels lot, where exactly are you taking me? Because my purse, my passport and all my worldly goods happen to be in room 108. And I dont want someone to nick them.
Not that she had a great deal of money in her purse, or many worldly goods, but her credit card was kind of important, and her passport if she was ever going to get out of this Godforsaken country.
Thats cute, coming from you, he said as he flipped the indicator and turned onto Morro Bays main street.
She bristled. Im not a thief, if thats what youre implying.
Uh-huh. So what were you doing in Demarests room? Planning to scrub his john after hours?
The mention of Brads name had her bristling even more. So he knew Demarest? Or knew of him? She tried to decide whether this was good or bad.
This is the way its gonna work, he said, his voice domineeringand deadly calm. Either I report you to the Morro Bay PD and they put you in a cell to keep you out of my way or you do what I say and tell me everything you know about Demarest.
His thumb tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as the car drifted out of the small towntaking her farther away from her goal, and her passport.
Its not stealing if someones already stolen from you, she offered, after considering her options. She didnt plan to tell this arrogant stranger anything but she didnt want to end up in a cell either.
His thumb tapped three more times. No, actually, technically its still stealing.
Great, the man wasnt just a bullying jerk, he was a self-righteous bullying jerkwith eyes bluer than Daniel Craig. Her pulse spiked.
Get over the eyes. Looks can be deceivingyou know that.
How much?
How much what? she asked, confused by the question.
How much did Demarest take you for?
The toneless enquiry had all the pain and humiliation charging up her throat and threatening to gag her. She swallowed down the bitter taste. So shed made a mistake. A stupid, selfish mistake by believing in a guy who had never been what he seemed. But shed spent the last two weeks trying to put that mistake rightthat had to count for something.
Not me, my father. She stared out of the window into the darkness. The car had reached the bluff over Morro Bay and even though she couldnt see the ocean, she could sense it.
She hit the button to slide down the window, suddenly desperate for the scent of fresh air. The dry ache in her throat caught her unawares as the musty scent of earth, and sea and tree sap brought with it a vivid picture of Kelross Glen. The little Highland town in the foothills of the Cairngorms shed spent the first twenty-four years of her life trying to escape. And every second of the last two weeks wishing she could return to.
She hit the up switch, sealing out the painful memories. She couldnt go back, not until she made amends for Brad and the childish wanderlust that had drawn her to him in the first place. She had to get at least some of her fathers money back. And if that meant tracking Brad the Cad through every dive on Californias coastlineand putting up with the arrogant guy seated beside hershed do it.
How much did he take your father for? The sharp question jolted her out of her thoughts.
Twenty-five grand, she said. Her dads life savings. Peter MacCabe had believed he was giving Iona a shot at her dreambut Brads promises of setting her up as a wildlife artist in Los Angeles had been as false and shallow as he was.
She pushed out a shaky breath.
Stop being a drama queen.
Once shed given Detective Sexy the slip and worked out a way to get back into Brads room, shed finally be able to look for her dads money.
You dont seriously think hes got twenty-five grand in Irish bills stashed in his motel room do you?
The incredulous statement had her head whipping round. And her eyes narrowing.
Im not Irish, Im Scottish, she said, indignation ringing in her voicehow come no one in California knew the difference between a Scottish and an Irish accenthadnt any of them ever watched Braveheart? And I dont see where else he would put the money. Hes not likely to be using a bank account, is he?
When did he hit your old man?
December.
December the twenty-third, to be precise. What a merry Christmas that had turned out to be. To think shed actually believed the story hed told her about popping over to Inverness to get her and her father a Christmas present. Until her father had dropped the bombshell about cashing in all the bonds he owned to give you a chance at happiness with your new young man. She hadnt even had the heart to tell him she and Brad were hardly a love match.
Thats three months ago. She heard the note of pity in the detectives voice, and hated him for it. The moneys long gone by now.
It couldnt all be gone. Not all twenty-five grand. How? Hes not exactly spending it on his accommodation.
Hes got a cocaine habit. He could lose that much up his nose in a weekend.
But A cocaine habit? Was that why hed seemed so fragile and vulnerable when hed walked into The Kelross giftshop?
Im taking it he kept that quiet while he was in The detective paused. Where are you from?
The Scottish Highlands, she said absently.
So thats why he disappeared from our radar for a couple of months, he murmured more to himself than her. I figured he might have skipped town to avoid his marks, but I didnt think he had the imagination to skip all the way to Europe.
He has other marks? she said dully.
Querida, hes a high-end hustler with a class-A habitwhere do you think I come in?
I dont know, where do you come in? she snapped. Did the guy really have to be quite so patronising?
My names Zane Montoya. I own and operate a private investigations firm based in Carmel. Weve been investigating Demarest for six months. Gathering evidence, witness statements, establishing a money trail, all on behalf of an insurance company who made the mistake of insuring some of his victims. He waited a beat as she struggled to absorb the information.
So her father hadnt been the only one whod fallen for Brads clever lies? This hadnt been some arbitrary, opportunistic con? Her stomach pitched at the thought.
Had she really believed this couldnt get any worse?
Shed got over her ludicrous fantasy that Brad Demarest cared about her and admired her artworkenough to help her get out of Kelross Glenmonths ago. But Montoyas revelations felt like the final rusty nail in the rotting coffin of her pride and self-respect.
A complex, high-level investigation, Montoya continued. That your dumb stunt came close to screwing up tonight.
She ignored Montoyas irritation. If he expected an apology for her dumb stunt, hed be waiting until they were serving snow cones in hell. She couldnt care less about him or his anonymous insurance company or his complex, high-level, almost screwed up investigation.
All she cared about was her father.
Peter MacCabe was a good man, whod wanted to give her a dream. A dream shed destroyed by letting a professional conman into their lives.
They rode in silence for the next few miles. Iona stared into the darkness and tried to get her head around what she was going to do next. It had taken her over two weeks to track Brad this far, in the hope she could get some of the money back. But if all the money was gone, was there even any point in confronting him? The hopelessness of the situation felt debilitating.
The lights of a strip mall shone in the distance as they approached another seaside town, but her mind had gone numb and she simply could not get it to engage.
Even her bones felt tired. Shed been running on adrenaline since shed got to California, trying to live on as little as possible while she waited for Brad to return to the motel shed had staked out. Tears of frustration and weariness pricked her eyes. She sucked them up. Crying never solved anything.
The yellow sign of a fast-food franchise flickered on the side of the road. Her stomach protested audibly and the hot flush of shame fired up her neck. Seemed the coffin of her self-respect hadnt completely rotted away because shed be mortified if Montoya had heard her hunger pains.
No such luck.
The car bounced across the cracked pavement in the fast-food restaurants forecourt, then stopped at the drive-through window.
He slanted a look at her belly. What do you want?
Nothing, Im good, she said, even though she hadnt eaten since the coffee and doughnut shed splurged on at breakfast. Shed rather die of starvation than accept charity from this jerk.
Whatll it be, sir? The teenage girl in the drive-through window blushed profusely before letting out a choked sighclearly suffering from the same asphyxiation problem Iona herself had had after her first good look at Detective Sexy.
He glanced at her over his shoulder and she got another unwelcome eyeful of that staggering face. An alarming series of pinpricks shimmered across her nerve endings.
You sure? he asked.
Positive. She lifted her chin.
The flat line of Montoyas lips curved up at one end, sending a dimple into his cheek. The pinpricks gathered and concentrated in all sorts of inappropriate places.
A dimple? Seriously? Give me a break.
The hint of a smile was more rueful than amused, but there was no denying the spectacular blip in Ionas heart rateor the loud answering growl of the lion in her stomach still hoping to get fed.
Suit yourself. He turned back to the blushing teen. Ill have two double cheeseburgers with a couple of large fries and a chocolate malt, Serena, he purred, reading her name off the badge pinned to her heaving bosom.
Yes, sir, coming right up. The girl jumped to attention. Thatll be six dollars fifty, sir.
Iona rolled her eyes. What was with the sir? Couldnt Serena see Detective Sexy already had an ego the size of Mars? Stroking it would turn it into a supernova.
He paid for the food, thanked Serena with what Iona guessed must have been the full dimple effectbecause the girls face went radioactivethen drove to the pick-up window.
Here, hold these. he passed her the two grease-spotted paper bags.
The delicious aroma of grilled meat and freshly fried potatoes swirled around Iona as he steered the car to a parking space one-handed while taking a loud slurp of his malt.
A giant chasm opened in her stomach and began to weep as she thrust the bags back as soon as the car was stationary. Why did you get two? she snapped, drool pooling under her tongue. I told you Im not hungry.
Was he trying to torture her?
Theyre both for me. He patted what appeared to be a washboard-lean stomach, the rueful twist of his lips mocking her. Stake-outs are hungry work and all Ive had since lunch is ten Twinkies and a gallon of Dr Pepper.
She glared across the console. My heart bleeds for you.
The mention of the sugary treats was torturous enough, but then he produced an enormous cheeseburger from one of the takeout bags.
The lurid orange substance that passed for cheese dripped from the sesame-seed bun as the savoury scent filled the car. The chasm in Ionas stomach yawned as his Adams apple bobbed up and down while he demolished the cheeseburger, then made equally fast work of the fries. The crunch of crisp golden potato and the heady fragrance sent her taste buds into overdrive.
He balled up the empty bag and flipped it into a bin outside the car window. She licked her lips as her stomach rolled into her throat.
One down, one to go.
He peered into the second bag, lifted out the last cheeseburger. Wrapping the serviette round one half, he brought it to his lips in slow motion.
Wait. Her hand shot out to grab hold of one thick wrist as the lion howled.
Something you want? His tone sounded strangely alluring in the darkness. Her tortured gaze met his mocking one.
YesI Her tongue swelled, the drool choking her. Please.
One dark eyebrow lifted. Please, what?
The bastard was going to make her beg.
Could I have a wee bite? She begged, ready to sacrifice her pride, her self-respect and anything else he might want for one little nibble.
The intensely blue gaze dipped as her teeth dug into her bottom lipand the pinpricks radiated up and out from all those inappropriate places. She dismissed her response. It had to be some weird physical reaction brought on by starvation.
She waited, ready for him to torture her some more, but to her relief his lips quirkedmaking the damn dimple wink at herand he handed over the precious burger. Knock yourself out.
She paused for a second as her fingers sank into the spongy bun, then ripped off a huge chunk with her teeth.
Her taste buds sang a hallelujah chorus as the meat juices and the creamy, salty cheese caressed her tongue. A low moan of gratification eased out round the mouthful of burger and his gaze locked on her mouth, the mocking smile gone.
She swallowed quickly and took another massive bite. She could feel the disturbingly intense gaze as she stuffed the rest of burger inbut she didnt care.
Let him be as appalled as he liked by her terrible table manners. She hadnt had a decent meal in days. And it hadnt been her idea to get kidnapped.
Why did that look so damn hot?
Heat shot into Zanes crotch as the wide full lips shone from the coating of grease.
Slow down, youll make yourself sick, he murmured.
She peered at him, her expression wary as she continued to devour the burger like a ravenous wolf. He shifted in his seat, suppressing the urge to lick off the trickle of juice dribbling down her chin. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping off the trickle, but the tug of arousal made it impossible to drag his gaze away.
I must seriously need to get laid.
Had it been six months since hed had that weekend fling in Sonora with Elena, the public defender? Six months wasnt that unusual for himhed always been choosy about his sexual partnersbut this time the abstinence had to be messing with his radar.
The girl was cute, no question. The slanting chocolate eyes, thick red-gold curls, her wide kissable mouth and pale freckled skin made a unique packagebut cute was hardly his type. And then there was the biggest turn-off of all. He was involved with her in a professional capacity. She was definitely a witness, possibly even a perp. And he never crossed that line. Ever.
The heat subsided as he watched her gulp down the last of the burger as if her life depended on it. Exactly how old was she? With that petal-soft skin it was hard to tell, but she could be a teenager.
He forced his gaze from her lips as he lifted the bag of fries off the dash, and passed them to her. How longs it been since you had a decent meal?
She stiffened. Not long, she said grudgingly but took the bag.
Yeah, right.
She popped the fries into her mouth, but continued to watch him, as if she expected him to snatch them back at any moment.
He suppressed the dart of compassion.
Grab a dose of reality, Montoya.
Shes no damsel in distressshes a resourceful little operator with her own agenda. Getting a job at Demarests motel had been a neat trick. And how the hell had she tracked the guy from Scotland, when theyd had trouble tracking him across California? Until he had the full story of how she fitted into the picture with Demarest, he didnt plan to trust her an inch.
But that didnt solve his immediate problem. What to do with her tonight? He hadnt planned much past getting her away from Demarests motel.
He couldnt take her back to Morro, and booking her into another motel wasnt an option either, because shed skip.
Of course he could dump her on the cops. But while handing her over would contain the problem, he couldnt quite bring himself to do it.
So how did you find out Demarest had a room at the Morro, Iona? he asked, deciding it was about time he started interrogating her properlyand stopped fixating on those damn lips.
She stopped shovelling fries into her mouth. How do you know my name? she said in that lilting Celtic brogue.
The motel clerk was real talkative when I told him about your crime spree with his key.
Her rich chocolate eyes went squinty with temper. You told him? How could you? Ill lose my job.
Youre not going back there anyway, he said, dismissing the prickle of guilt. He wasnt the one whod decided to indulge in some after hours B and E. I dont want you alerting Demarest to our presence.
Im not going to alert him. Why would I? She sounded aggrieved. How am I going to pay my bill now? They probably wont even give me the wages they owe me.
I settled your bill. Hed also paid the clerk to keep her valuables in the motel safe. If Demarest showed up tonight, he might not need the bargaining chip Ionas ID documents represented, but he had a feeling it wasnt gonna be that simple. Because nothing about this damn case had been simple so far.
And the biggest complication of all was sitting right in front of him.
A complication made a whole lot worse by his perverse reaction to her.
Hed never before got a kick out of manhandling a womaneven on the force hed earned the nickname Lancelot, because of his preference for using persuasion and persistence when interrogating female suspects, instead of threats and intimidation.
But there was no getting away from the fact that when hed caught her in Demarests room tonighthed noticed the generous breasts propped on his forearm and the fresh, subtle fragrance of her hair. And while he might have been able to ignore that momentary loss of controlbecause it had been six months since hed had a woman, any woman in his armsthat excuse was nowhere near good enough to explain why hed come close to getting a hard-on just watching her eat.
But you can kiss your paycheck goodbye, he said, making sure the chill stayed in his voice.
Her big brown eyes widened, making him feel as if hed just kicked Bambi.
Now stop arguing with me or Ill kick you out of the car and leave you in the middle of nowhere.
It was an empty threat, he wouldnt do that to any woman, especially not one who had no money, no ID, whod just devoured a burger as if she hadnt eaten in days and who had eyes like Bambi.
But instead of being cowed, she stuck her chin out. Fine, dump me here if you want. Ive no got a problem with that.
Damn, she was actually serious.
What kind of guys had she been dealing with? Then he thought of the seedy motel, and her connection to Demarest and had a pretty good idea.
Yeah, well, unfortunately I do.
Then take me back to the motel. Ill get my stuff and stay somewhere else. I wont interfere with your case, I swear. I want Brad caught as much as you do.
Maybe it was the flinty determination in her voice or the way her gaze never wavered. But he wanted to believe her.
Which only made him sure he shouldnt. Ten years on the force had taught him that trust was a dangerous thingand following your gut instead of having proof could get you killed.
He slid the car into reverse. Forget it. Youre staying where I can keep an eye on you.
Why? she said, the hitch in her voice telegraphing her shock. This is ridiculous. You dislike me as much as I dislike you.
Unfortunately he didnt dislike her nearly as much as he should, but he let the observation pass.
Her brow creased. All you have to do is trust me a little bit and we never have to lay eyes on each other again.
Trust you? He sent her a long look. You think?
Oh, for Petes sake, she hissed. I already told you Brad stole money from my father.
So it was Brad now.
I was trying to get it back, she finished, crossing her arms, and making her breasts plump up under the scoop neck of the tank.
Yeah, but I dont have a heck of a lot of proof. He dragged his eyes away from her cleavage. Annoyed with himself. And her. Was she doing that on purpose? And until I do, were stuck with each other.
He reversed out of the lot, deciding the argument was over.
Now hang on, she piped up. If you dont trust me, why the heck should I trust you? You say youre a private investigator, but for all I know you could be an axe-murderer.
I showed you my licence, he said, humouring her.
Which you could have had forged for you by axe-murderers.com.
His lips quirked at her tenacity, but he bit back the chuckle. The accusation wasnt funny, it was insulting.
He braked and pulled out his smartphone, then keyed in the number for the LAPD. He passed the phone to her as it started ringing. Ask for Detective Stone, or Detective Ramirez in Vice, whichever one is on shift. They can vouch for me.
He waited while she spoke to the dispatcher, and spent some time verifying that she was talking to a genuine LAPD officerand not one of his axe-murdering pals.
Smart girl.
Excuse me, Detective Ramirez, came her smoky voice when she got his former partner on the line. My name is Iona MacCabe and Im here with a man called Zane Montoya. He says hes a private detective and that you know him. Is that true? She listened for a moment, her teeth releasing her bottom lip as she nodded. Can you tell me what he looks like? Her gaze roamed over his face as she listened to Rams reply. Her scrutiny was sharp and dispassionate, and so unlike the glassy-eyed stares he had come to expect from women that something perverse happened. His nape heated, triggering a flash back to high school, when those glassy-eyed stares had allowed him to charm any girl he wanted into his bedor more often the back seat of his uncle Raouls Chevy.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
Damn it, Montoya. Get real. Youre not in high school any more and you dont want Iona MacCabe in your bed, or anywhere else.
All right, I guess this is the same guy, she murmured, that smoky accent only making him more uncomfortable. And youre sure hes no an axe-murderer?
Her eyebrows inched up her forehead and then she laughed, the sound low and amused and so unexpected it arrowed right through him.
He didnt even want to think what Ram had said. His ex-partner had a sense of humour coarsened by twenty-five years spent in a squad car and a locker room. It wasnt exactly subtle.
At last she passed him back his phone. Okay, you check out, she said a little grudgingly. The detective wants to speak to you.
Terrific.
Hey, Ram, he said without a lot of enthusiasm. He usually enjoyed shooting the breeze with the guy, but not now, not with this woman in the carwho was becoming way more of a complication than he needed.
Ramirezs amused voice boomed down the phone. Lancelot, man, whos the chiquita? She sounds cute.
Zane kept his eyes on Iona, and hoped she hadnt heard the dumb remark. Im on a case, man, he said sternly, relieved when Iona broke eye contact and stared out of the window, ignoring him.
Ill bet. The rusty laugh caused by two packs a day wheezed out as Ram replied. What happened, man? You finally find one you cant charm out of her panties with that pretty face of yours?
I appreciate you vouching for me, Ram, he said, wishing to hell it had been Stone on the late shift tonightwhose sense of humour was about as animated as his name. And ended the call.
He dumped the smartphone on the dash, tunnelled his fingers through his hair. This night had started badly and gone downhill from there.
Satisfied? he asked Iona.
I guess so, she said, sounding snotty again.
She wasnt the only one in a snit now, though.
He started the car and pulled out.
You still havent told me where were going.
Monterey, he said, being as vague as possible. Its about two hours drive so you might as well get comfortable.
And why are we going there?
I have a friend who owns some vacation rentals in Pacific Grove, he said, remembering the key he still had in his glove compartment to Nates property, which hed stayed at a month ago while his kitchen was being remodelled. He could stash her in the picturesque little cottage for tonight, then review his options.
Without a car, or any cash or ID, she wouldnt be able to get far. And it was close enough to his place on Seventeen Mile to be convenient.
You can stay there tonightand Ill bring over your stuff tomorrow.
When he planned to interrogate herand find out exactly what she knew about Demarest.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her he was taking her back to his place for the night. He had five bedrooms in the timber-and-glass beach house hed bought a year ago, and it was a little more remote than Pacific Grove. But hed kicked the idea into touch almost as soon as it had occurred to him.
He rarely did sleepovers, even with women he was dating. And hed sure as hell never had one he was planning to interrogate stay over. Plus, given his unpredictable reaction to Iona already, having her under his roof had the potential to turn a complication into a catastrophe.
And what if I dont want to stay at your friends vacation rental in Pacific Grove? she demanded.
I turn you over to the cops, he said, not sure why he wasnt doing that already. Your choice.
The weighty silence told him what his passenger thought about the proposed sleeping arrangements.
Why are you even giving me the option? she said at last, the note of caution making it clear shed accepted the lesser of two evils. I could wreck the place to spite you.
Good question, and not one he wanted to answer.
True enough, but youd be facing a lot more than a B and E charge when I caught you. He slanted her a long look, frustrated that he trusted her even though he didnt want toand letting every ounce of that frustration show. And I would catch you.
Her musical voice didnt pipe up again until they hit the coastal highway.
Fine, Ill stay where you put meuntil tomorrow. But only because I dont have a choice. The Celtic mist of her accent did nothing to disguise the annoyance. But Im not your chiquita. So dont get any funny ideas, Lancelot.
Zanes fingers tensed on the wheel until he could feel the stitching on the leather biting into his palms.
Gee, thanks, Ramirez.
CHAPTER TWO
THE VICARIOUS PLEASURE at getting the final word didnt last long when Montoyas only response was the creak of leatheras he held the steering wheel in a death grip.
Way to go, Iona. Why not draw attention to his reputation for charming women out of their knickers? Because thats just what you want, to make this encounter personal.
Did Ram say something dumb about me? he asked after twenty seconds that had stretched over several lifetimes.
Iona risked a glance at him. His eyes remained fixed on the road as if he were trying to burn off a layer of tarmac.
Maybe, she said carefully, feeling increasingly awkward. Why hadnt she kept her smart mouth shut?
With a face like that, the guy probably got hit on by supermodelsdespite his less-than-charming personalitywhich meant snide remarks about being indifferent to his charms probably made her sound delusional.
He sighed. Rams got a big mouth and he gets a kick out of busting my balls. Dont pay any attention to him.
The knot of tension in Ionas stomach released. He didnt sound angry; he sounded embarrassed.
So you dont have a reputation for charming the chiquitas out of their panties? she said, intrigued by his reaction.
Instead of taking the bait, he laughed. The low rumble of amusement shivered down her spine and re-ignited the stupid pinpricks shed been trying to forget.
I do, he conceded. But I didnt do a whole lot to earn it.
She didnt believe him. Either he was being falsely modest, or he was lying. From the lazy, casually seductive tone hed slipped into so effortlessly, shed bet he could charm the average chiquita out of her panties from five hundred paces.
Ramirez tends to exaggerate my exploits. He protested a bit too much. Because hes been happily married for twenty-five years. He sent her a dimpled smile and the pinpricks were toast. Dont worry, Iona, youre safe with me.
The pulse of awareness that warmed the air at his softly spoken guarantee had her nipples hardening under the thin black camisole. She folded her arms over the tell-tale buds and cursed the knee-jerk thought that she wouldnt completely object to a little danger.
Good to know, she replied, trying to convince herself she was grateful he had no designs on her panties.
Given her disastrous relationship history, the last thing she needed right now was to develop some ridiculous crush on Detective Sexy. She was already at enough of a disadvantage with the man.
So how did Demarest manage to relieve your old man of twenty-five grand? he asked, sliding effortlessly from charm offensive back to cop mode.
Why do you ask? she said, attempting to deflect the question. While shed much rather be dealing with Montoya the cop, than Montoya the pantie charmer, she had no intention of revealing the grim details of her affair with Brad.
Its not Demarests usual MO.
What is his usual MO?
He paused, and she had the uneasy feeling he had seen right through the stalling tactic. All the victims we questioned were women, mostly over fifty, recently divorced or widowed. He poses as a producer, gives them a line about casting them in his latest movie, sweetens the deal with a little recreational sex and then asks for an investment.
The flush spread up Ionas throat at Montoyas matter-of-fact statement. But she managed to choke back the urge to correct him.
Sex with Brad had been the opposite of recreational, at least in her experience. Hed been rough and demanding, but because hed been her ticket out of Kelross Glen, shed wanted to please him. Her stomach sank to her toes, her scalp burning at the memory of how hard shed tried. Hard enough to persuade herself she actually liked Brad.
When Brad had dangled the carrot of knowing a wealthy benefactor in LA who might be keen to commission her artwork, shed had no qualms about mentioning the opportunity to her Dad. But while her gullibility made her sick with shame, it was the way shed let Brad use her in bed that made her feel sordid.
Demarests a sick bastard, Montoya continued. The moneys not the main kick for him, its sleeping with the women hes exploiting, Montoya hesitated. Which is why Im wondering how your old man fits into that? Where was the kick?
She flinched at the perceptive comment. Montoya wasnt buying it. Had he guessed her father hadnt been the real mark? And why did the thought that he might find out the truth only make her feel a thousand times more unclean?
It really shouldnt matter what this man knew or didnt know. He was a stranger. And she didnt even like him. In anything other than a hormonal sense, she added grudgingly.
But somehow it did matter.
Demarest was going to make a tourist film for my dad, she said, remembering one of Brads earlier carrotsthat her father hadnt taken. We have a gift shop in Kelross. Demarest suggested making a movie about the history of the place for US investors, she added. It had almost been true.
How long was this movie going to be?
Im not sure She scrabbled around trying to remember if Brad had even got that far with the con. An hour, maybe.
An hour? For twenty-five grand? He gave an incredulous laugh. Your old man sounds like an easy mark.
Iona bristled, knowing shed been the easiest mark of all. He just doesnt know much about movie making. And unfortunately neither did she.
Although it still seems kind of weird, Montoya murmured, the continued scepticism making her tense. For there not to be a woman in there somewhere. He bumped his thumb against the steering wheel, the insistent tapping making Iona feel like Captain Hook listening to the tick-tock of the approaching crocodile. What about your mother? Where does she fit into the picture?
The question was so unexpected, she answered without thinking. Nowhere. She ran off when I was small. We havent seen her since.
The recently eaten burger turned over as the ugly truth made her feel suddenly vulnerable, scraping at an old wound. A scabbed over, forgotten wound that she thought had healed years ago.
Thats tough. Montoyas gruff condolence only made her feel more exposed.
Not that tough. I can barely remember her, she lied, ashamed of having revealed too much, too easily.
She curled away from him, gazed at the stars sprinkled over the dark line of the cliffs, and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of her motherso beautiful, so careless and so indifferent.
Dont think about her. Youve got quite enough to deal with already.
Fatigue made her eyelids gritty. She blinked furiously, determined to stay awake. She couldnt afford to give into sleep yet, because that would mean trusting Montoya and shed known ever since she was a child she shouldnt trust anyone.
And her experience with Brad had only confirmed that.
Montoya didnt offer any more useless platitudes or ask any more probing questions. Something she was pathetically grateful for as she pressed her cheek into the soft leather, listened to the soothing hum of the cars engineand plummeted into a dreamless sleep.
Zane braked gently in the driveway of the small cottageand studied his sleeping passenger.
Shed dropped off like a stone an hour ago, and hadnt made a sound since. The engine stilled and the only sound was the chirp of crickets and night crawlers and the distant hum of a passing car. He unclicked her seatbelt, eased it over her bare shoulder and got a lungful of her scent.
The fresh fragrance of baby talc and some flowery soap mixed with the sultry scent of her invaded his senses, and the inevitable pulse of arousal hit.
He tensed, annoyed with his inability to control the response. The cottages nightlight illuminated her pale face and the varying shades of red in her unruly hair. The thick lashes resting on her cheeks and the even breathing made her look impossibly young. The heat subsided as he imagined her as a kid, losing her mother. The dart of sympathy was sharp and undeniable.
What would he have done if Maria had abandoned him? And shed had more cause than any mother.
He shook his head, to dispel the thought.
Dont make this personal, Montoya. Youre having enough trouble keeping a professional distance.
He didnt even know how old she was. Or how much of her story was true.
And exactly how mixed up with Demarest was she? Shed lied to him about the con. Hed spotted it straight away, the hitch in her breathing, the hesitation as she stumbled over the explanation. Had she been the mark all along? Was that why shed been so determined to get her fathers money back? Because she felt responsible for the loss? Exactly how much danger had she put herself in, while tracking Demarest?
And why did the thought of that bother him so much?
She wasnt his problem, not in the long-term.
He retrieved the key buried in the glove compartment. Then thrust a hand through his hair as it occurred to him he was glad she was here tonight, and under his protection, instead of back at that seedy motel.
He got out of the car, walked around to the passenger door and stared at her cuddled into the seat. he should shake her awake, get her to go into the cottage under her own steam, but she looked so peaceful, he couldnt do it.
Without giving himself too much time to think, he scooped her into his arms.
The sultry scent enveloped him as he carried her onto the cottages porch. She let out a puff of breath and her soft hair brushed against his chin as she burrowed into his chest like a thrusting child.
He fumbled with the key, pushed the door open with his foot and stepped into the dark interior, an emotion he didnt like banding across his chest.
She didnt stir as he placed her on the small queen-size in the cottages only bedroom, untied the laces on her combat boots and slipped them off, then covered her with the throw before he got fixated on the slow rise and fall of her breasts beneath the tank.
He found a note pad in the kitchen, scribbled a note and pinned it to the corkboard above the fridge. Unplugging the phone and tucking it under his arm, he walked out of the door, closing and locking it behind him. Then dropped the key through the letter slot.
As he drove back to his place he sent a voicemail to Nates business line, to inform him of his new house guest, and left one with his PA.
If they didnt pick up Demarest tonight, he was diverting every free man he had to the case tomorrow. He needed to get this damn case closed, before it got any more complicated.
CHAPTER THREE
Stay put, Ill be back tomorrow to tell you whats going to happen next.
Montoya
IONA RAN HER fingers through her damp curls, tucked the towel between her breasts and glared at the thick black writingparticularly the shouty capitals.
Where did Detective Sexy get off giving her orders like a pet dog?
No one told her what to do. Shed been taking care of herself since she was ten years old. And taking care of her dad too. And okay, maybe she hadnt exactly been doing a stellar job of it of late, but that hardly gave him the right to treat her as if she were his to command.
And what exactly did he mean by to tell you whats going to happen next?
She struggled to hold on to her indignation and ignore the little blip of disappointment at the fact that so far the only person shed seen was one of his detectives. A rotund guy called Jim with a gruff but friendly manner, whod woken her up an hour ago to deliver a bag of groceries, her rucksackconspicuously minus her purse and passportand the news that Mr Montoya was busy with the case but would be in touch later in the day.
Pulling the note off the corkboard, she scrunched it up and dumped it in the kitchen bin. Well, hooray for Mr Montoyait must be nice to get to order everyone around like a demigod.
Goosebumps rose on her arms. She marched back into the cottages tiny living area and grabbed fresh underwear, jeans and a T-shirt from her rucksack. Hed better bring her passport when he showed up or there would be trouble. Returning to the compact bedroom, she hunted around for her boots, then stopped dead when she spotted themplaced neatly together on the rug by the bedside table, the laces undone.
Her heartbeat bumped her throat as a picture formed in her minds eye. The picture shed been holding at bay ever since shed been woken up by the sound of knocking at the front door, snuggled cosy and content and well rested under a clean quilt that smelled pleasantly of fabric conditioner.
The picture of Montoya carrying her into the cottage, taking off her boots and then covering her with said quilt.
The pulse of reaction skittered up her spine, making the pinpricks shimmer back to life and party with the goosebumps.
She swallowed heavily, trying to ease the ache in her throat.
The thought of being fast asleep in his arms was disturbing enough, but much worse was the thought of him putting her to bed so carefully.
When was the last time anyone had bothered to treat her with that much care and attention? Her father had been unable to care for himself after her mother left, let alone her. So at ten years old, shed become the parentcaring for both of them while he struggled to pull himself back from the brink of depression. Shed had a few boyfriends before Brad, but theyd been young and recklessproviding nothing more than the easy thrill of youthful companionship. And as for her brief liaison with Brad, well Brad had been a user, always quick to take, never willing to give.
Big deal. He just took your boots off for you.
Perching on the edge of the bed, she grabbed one of the boots and shoved it on, staunching the ridiculous tide of her thoughts.
Zane Montoya didnt care about her; he just cared about his case. And she didnt care about him either. So why was she turning one moment of consideration into a primetime drama?
She returned to the kitchenette and began taking the groceries out of the brown paper bag Jim had delivered, determined to put the moment of vulnerability behind her and concentrate on finding a solution to her situation.
She almost wept with joy when she found a tin of coffee. She filled the kettle, looking out of the window to find a sweet little patio garden carpeted with climbing vines. As the rich smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen, a strange contentment settled over her.
The cottage was tiny, but so clean and prettyand completely adorable compared to the dives shed been forced to stay in of late. Pouring herself a steaming cup, she smiled as a hummingbird fluttered into view and settled over the bright yellow pegonias in the window box, and began gathering nectar in its long beak. Putting down the mug, she rushed back into the living room and dug out her art supplies, her palms itching to detail the blurred lines of the birds movement in the static medium of paper and graphite. Settling in front of the kitchen window, she sketched furiously, trying to capture as much as she could before the bird disappeared. As the hummingbird flitted from flower to flower and the clear lines began to form on the heavy paper the leaden feeling of failure that had bowed her shoulders for so long began to lift.
She relaxed as the bird flew off, and gazed at her drawings. More than enough to create a detailed watercolour later. Refilling her now lukewarm coffee, she took a muffin out of the deli-bag on the counter and realised that for the first time in a long time she felt the bright sheen of possibility peeking out from under the dead weight of failure.
And she had Detective Sexy to thank for that.
When he appeared, she would be conciliatory instead of combative. The truth was, shed been aggressive and unnecessarily snotty with him last night. Because shed been exhausted, hungry and terrifiedshe might as well admit it. But shed had her first full nights sleep in weeks. Which meant she owed Montoyahowever high-handed hed been with his little note.
But once shed thanked Montoya and was on her own again, the bigger picture was more complicated. Still, now she was well rested her prospects didnt seem nearly as bleak as they had seemed last night.
She had some money left and a work visa that lasted another five months. There was no reason why she couldnt look for a better place to live now, away from the seedy motels Brad frequented. And perhaps sell a few more sketches. Shed managed to sell all the hand-painted postcards shed produced in the cafs along Morro Bays Main Street, but keeping an eye on Brads motel room had meant she hadnt had time to replenish her work. But now she was free of Brad-surveillance she could actually devote herself to finding a decent job and spend her evenings sketching. Monterey was supposed to be arty and bohemianas well as being a tourist mecca. Surely there were bound to be places she could sell her stuff and look for a job. The summer season was only weeks away, so casual work shouldnt be too hard to find.
The most important thing of all, and the main reason shed come to America to track Brad, was to stop her dad from ever finding out that hed been conned again by someone he trusted. And while she most likely wouldnt be able to get him his money back, she could still achieve that much.
Shed told her father she was travelling to LA at Brads invitation, that her new man had come through with his promises of a showcase for her work. Even though the lie had nearly choked her at the time, it had kept her father happy. And while getting a gallery showing had always been a foolish pipe dream, in five months if she worked hard and applied herself she might be able to return home with at least some money to replace what her father had lostand a small degree of success to show for his bogus investment.
She frowned as she grabbed another muffin. But first she had to convince Montoya she was of no significance to his case. To do that, she needed to be polite and cooperativeand keep things impersonal.
Wiping the crumbs off the surface and rinsing out her coffee mug, she picked up her sketch pad again, feeling almost euphoric. Until Montoya arrived, she planned to indulge herself and do what she loved for a change.
Zane tucked the cottages phone under his arm and rapped on the front door. The early evening light beamed off polished wood but as he peered inside it was obvious there was no one in the front room.
He rolled his shoulders as the muscles cramped. He hoped shed done as she was told and stayed put. After the day hed put in already, the last thing he needed now was to have to scour Pacific Grove for her.
The original plan had been to swing by first thing that morning. But after having his nights sleep disturbed by way too many sweaty dreams involving firm breasts, wide caramel-coloured eyes, worn tank tops and full kissable lips glossy with burger grease, hed held off, and sent Jim to deliver the groceries instead.
Iona MacCabe had an unpredictable effect on him, and until he figured out whatif anythinghe was going to do about it, keeping his distance was the smart choice.
Then the case had exploded at ten when Demarest had shown up at the Morro Moteland all hell had broken loose. Zane had been tied up with the Morro Bay PD for the rest of the day, handing over the case files and contacting the LAPD to make sure Demarest got transferred there before the day was out. As a courtesy, Stone and Ramirez had let him observe their interrogations. He massaged the back of his neck to ease the tension headache that had been building ever since.
Just as hed guessed after their original profiling, in the interview Demarest had been slick and supremely arrogant. But he soon lost control under pressure, and proved how volatile and dangerous he was.
Zane shuddered. What the hell had Iona been thinking breaking into the guys room? What would have happened to her, if it had been Demarest whod caught her last night and not him? At some point he planned to give her a damn good talking to about personal safety.
The thought of any woman being at the guys mercy had sickened himbut worse had been the moment when theyd questioned Demarest about his trip to Scotland. Demarest had laughed and boasted about the Scottish girl whod been begging for it and Zane had been forced to walk outthe urge to leap through the mirrored partition and strangle the guy triggering the sickening memory that had haunted him most of his adult life.
He eased the kinks out of his shoulders and rapped again.
He should be feeling great now. Six months work had finally paid off and Montoya Investigations was in line for a nice fat bonus payment. Plus his firm had been instrumental in catching one of the nastiest and most parasitic low lives in California and bringing him to book. But somehow it didnt feel like enoughbecause it could never undo the damage the bastard had done.
He squinted through the clouded glass again, and a little of the tension dissolved as he spotted the petite silhouette coming to the door from the back of the house. Then the door swung open and the punch of lust hit full force.
The setting sun glinted on her hair, highlighting the different shades of red, and making her skin almost transparent. Her rich caramel eyes glowed with energy, and, while the wary caution of the night before was still there, the bruised shadows underneath were gone. In a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt that hugged the generous breasts he recalled a little too well pressing against his forearm, her feet encased in the boots hed taken off her the night before, she should have looked like a tomboy. She didnt.
Hello, Mr Montoya. Sorry I didnt hear you knockingI was in the back garden. The Celtic lilt and the hitch in her breathing called to his inner caveman.
Down, Montoya. Youre here on business. Not pleasure. However tempted you might be to stray over that line.
He noticed the pad under her arm, which was covered in a series of intricate drawings of a small bird.
Youre an artist? he asked, although the answer was obvious from the quality of the work.
Yes, I She shrugged. I specialise in drawing flora and fauna. Its a passion of mine.
She stumbled over the word passion and two pink flags appeared on her cheekbones, making the sprinkle of freckles on her nose more vivid.
A passion, huh? he said, not quite able to hold back the grin when she squirmed. So he wasnt the only one struggling to remain professional.
Good to know.
Come in, Mr Montoya, she said, the cool, polite tone disconcerting as she stepped back and held the door open. He wondered what had happened to the firebrand hed met last night.
The names Zane. He dumped the phone on the coffee table. I brought this in case you want to call your father. You got the groceries okay this morning?
Yes, you should tell me what I owe you for them, she said, the cool tone turning chilly. Although its going to be hard to pay you without my purse.
He tugged her purse and passport out of his back pocket. But when she reached for them, he lifted them above her head. Not so fast. Ill need your word youre not going to run off.
The beguiling almond-shaped eyes narrowed. And the firebrand came out of hiding.
And what would you be needing my word for? she asked, propping her hands on her hips and making her breasts flatten against the tight T-shirt. If you dont believe a single thing I say?
Itll go some way to putting my suspicious mind at rest, he said, enjoying the view probably a bit too much.
The fire in her eyes flared. Is it just me you dont trust? she asked her tone dripping with sarcasm. Or do you have this low an opinion of all women, Mr Montoya?
He choked out a laugh. No one had ever accused him of that before. Especially not a woman. But then Iona MacCabe was turning out to be an original in more ways than one.
His gaze wandered over her face and he watched with satisfaction as her cheeks pinkened. On the contrary, I have a very high opinion of women.
The pulse of awareness warmed the air as her cheeks heated to a dull red. And pert nipples protruded against the T-shirt.
It was a crisp spring evening outside, but the sun shining through the cottages front window meant the atmosphere was warm and close.
She crossed her arms to cover the stiff buds.
Too late, your secrets out, querida. Youre no more immune to me than I am to you.
In fact, he added, I cant think of a single thing about women I dont enjoy.
Professionalism be damned. Iona McCabe was too cute to resist flirting with.
So perhaps we should start overand forget about last night. He held out his hand. Zane Montoya, at your service.
Suspicion clouded her eyes, but then she thrust her slim hand into his much larger, much darker one. He clasped her fingers for barely a second, the handshake quick and impersonal, but the cool, soft touch of her skin contrasted sharply with the arrow of heat that darted straight to his groin.
She stuffed her hand into the back pocket of the jeans. But her pupils dilated with something he recognised only too well, before her gaze flickered away.
You felt it too.
Endorphins flowed freely through his system. Hed always been a connoisseur of women, in all their myriad and wonderful varieties. Which was why he didnt have a type. But for some reason, this girl hit all his happy buttons, without even trying.
And he was through fighting it.
As of today, Demarest was in a cell and would be for a very long time. The case was closed as far as Montoya Investigations was concerned. So there was no professional reason why he shouldnt push a few of her happy buttons right back.
Ive got some news on the case, Iona, he said, planning to ask her if she wanted to discuss it over dinner, but before he could say any more her head shot up.
News about Brad?
He frowned, his happy buttons not feeling all that happy any more. We picked him up at ten this morning. Hes in a cell facing more charges than he can count.
I see. Her voice sounded casual, but then she fixed him with that cautious gaze and he knew it wasnt. Did he have any of my dads money on him?
He shook his head and her face fell.
Right. She looked down, but not before he saw the shadow of distress.
He shoved his hand into his pocket, resisting the urge to run his finger down her cheek, and stroke the distress away.
For one tense moment he thought she might cry. But then she seemed to pull herself back from the brink.
Well, I guess this is where we part company, then, Montoya, she murmured.
Something tugged hard under his breastbone. And that surprised him.
The threat of female tears didnt usually faze him, but there was something about Iona McCabes stoicismand those sultry eyes, so large and wary in her small facethat had fazed him.
She let out a weighty sigh. Do you think it would be okay for me to stay here another night? I could pay any rent thats due.
His sympathy dissolved. She looked scared but defiant, like a puppy who expected to be kicked but was determined not to yelp.
He didnt deserve that.
He trusted her. In fact, she sort of fascinated him. She was feisty and unpredictable And refreshingly transparent and he hadnt been able to get his mind off her, even though hed tried. But it was real clear that however attracted she might be to him, she didnt trust him. And while hed understood her animosity last night, he was finding it hard not to take it personally now.
Damn it, Iona, you can stay here as long as you need. In fact, he planned to insist on it. She might think she was safe, but he knew different. A woman alone was always vulnerable, but especially a woman as impulsive as her. And theres no chargethe place was empty anyway.
Why would you do that? Im not your responsibility. She sounded genuinely confused, making his annoyance increase.
Because, weirdly enough, Im not the kind of guy who kicks women when theyre down. Unlike your pal Brad.
Okay, well, thank you, I appreciate not having to leave tonight, she said. But then her chin stuck out in a stubborn show of strength. But Ill make sure Im gone by tomorrow.
I dont think so. Not until Im sure youll be safe.
He bit back the retort, seeing the mutinous expression on her face. In his experience, pushing her only made her push back. And anyhow, he didnt want to argue with her. Not tonight.
How about we talk about it over dinner in Santa Cruz? I know a place that does the best enchiladas on the West Coast.
Her face went completely blank for a second and she blinked, her eyes going round with astonishment.
That had sure shut her up.
Youre n-not serious? she stammered, her accent thickening.
Damn, shes even cuter when shes flustered.
Had Detective Sexy just asked her on a date? Or was she hallucinating?
Im always serious about Manuels enchiladas, he replied, while the tempting glint in his eye implied the opposite. My treat, he continued, apparently not the least bit bothered by her shock.
But then she suspected he was probably used to that reaction from women.
What with that devastating facenot to mention that subtle I-can-have-you-any-time-I-want-you smileshe already knew he was an expert at charming women out of their panties. Shed only got a glimpse of his charm the night beforebut she was standing in the full glare of it now, and getting a little light-headed.
Then she made the mistake of drawing a breath into her lungs. The fresh scent of laundry soap, a zesty hint of aftershave and something musky and entirely masculine drifted up her nostrils.
Good Lord, hes got so many lets-get-naked hormones pumping off him, I can actually smell them.
She pressed her arms into her breasts as her traitorous nipples began to ache.
But why? she began, struggling to come up with a coherent response.
He leaned forward and whispered, Because Im starving, querida. Arent you?
His breath feathered her earlobe and sent the pinpricks careering down her neck and straight into her nether regions. She drew her head back, and got fixated on those penetrating blue eyes. She didnt answer the question, because she was fairly certain they werent talking about enchiladas any more.
.
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Heidi Rice
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Rescued by a bone-meltingly handsome stranger!After a run-in with a Californian con-man, Scottish Iona MacCabe has no money and nowhere to go. She quickly discovers LA can be a very unfriendly city without tons of hard cash… Millionaire security expert Zane Montoya can hardly leave a pretty Scottish tourist at a dodgy motel to fend for herself. His long-lost chivalrous side takes over: he turns on the legendary Montoya charm and whisks Iona away to upscale Monterey.Independent, wilful Iona might be spitting daggers at being rescued, but that doesn’t stop the sexual heat between them reaching scorching point! Zane’s used to keeping all his women at arm’s length, and Iona’s way too close for comfort – but Zane only realises his long-held emotional detachment is at risk once it’s too late…‘My favourite author, Heidi captures the imagination like no other!’ – Charlotte, 40, Finance Manager