THE HANGING CLOCK on the wall of the living room chimed twice.
Two in the morning.
Rick had gone much longer without sleep. Hell, he’d gone days while on a case, but he doubted Nina had. There were delicate purple splotches beneath her eyes, and she looked dead on her feet.
He shoved the unwanted sympathy right out of his head. He didn’t care if she was tired, he wasn’t here to baby-sit.
He needed answers. And the deeper he got, the more he learned about the reckless, eccentric Terry and the willowy, softer Nina, the more he wanted those answers.
That bothered him.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he told a nodding off Nina, deciding to play hardball so that she’d co-operate and he could get the hell on with it. “You know I’m not going anywhere until I learn where Terry is.”
She rolled her eyes upward. “Terry is—”
“Dead, yes. But since you won’t look me in the eyes when you say it, you’ll excuse me for not believing you.”
Her eyes sparked but she didn’t say another word.
“Fine. Be stubborn.” Purposely, he wiggled the handcuffs, not enjoying her look of unease as much as he’d have thought. “I have all night.”
“The night is nearly over.”
“Which reminds me...” He sat on the couch—a pleasingly long, wide one—and jerked just hard enough on the handcuffs that she was forced to sit next to him. “I’m tired.”
Nina’s eyes widened. “You are not going to sleep.”
“That is exactly what I plan on doing.” He lifted his hands to the buttons on his shirt.
She let out a squeak and tugged on his manacled hand. “What are you doing?”
He continued unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand, though he had to admit, he’d enjoyed it more with her fingers brushing his chest. He shrugged out of the garment, letting it hang on the handcuffs still hampering them both.
She stared at his bared chest and shoulders, mouth hanging open just a little, and the sight of her speechless over his body did something to his gut.
Okay, not his gut.
The area due south of his gut.
Her eyes all but devoured him, and he couldn’t believe how arousing that was. What was with him? He’d been wanted by a woman before, more times than he could remember. He knew he had a shape that pleased the opposite sex, and normally he wasn’t above using that to his advantage.
But not here, not with this woman who looked as if maybe she was far more innocent than he could imagine. It wasn’t his thing, playing with a woman who believed in love and hearts and roses and happily ever after.
Damn it, all he’d wanted was to intimidate her into speaking. “You’re staring,” he said unkindly.
“Because you are not wearing a shirt.”
“That’s what happens when one removes it,” he agreed. “They become shirtless.”
“It is inappropriate.”
He had to laugh. God, she was so formal. And so shockingly, madly, wildly sexy—without even knowing it. “I hate sleeping in clothes.”
She made a strangled sound, then pointed to his pants. “Those are staying on.”
“You say such sexy things, Nina. You’d better watch it, or I’ll get the wrong idea.”
It took her a moment to realize he was kidding, and her frown deepened.
She didn’t take her eyes off him.
He realized how aware of her he suddenly was. How he noticed the slight flare in her gaze, and the way she nervously licked her lips. How her hands fisted, as if she were having trouble keeping them to herself.
It wasn’t often he let himself fantasize. Mostly he needed his mind sharp and focused. But he was fantasizing now, in a big way, and it was definitely hampering his thinking.
He scooted farther down the couch, trying to get comfortable, trying to shut her out of his mind—yeah, right!—and sighed with pleasure at the soft, cozy cushions. He closed his eyes, considering himself lucky. He’d slept in some real sleaze buckets while on previous cases. “Maybe when I wake up, you’ll feel more like sharing info about your sister and her whereabouts.”
“I told you all I know.”
“I doubt that.”
“You are really not leaving until...?”
“Not until.”
“But—”
Opening his eyes, he waited with a raised brow, but she only glared at him. Shrugging, he kicked off his shoes and lay back, stuffing a throw pillow beneath his head. When he put up his feet, Nina let out a disbelieving huff. He smiled as he stretched out, eyes closed, knowing she was sitting stiffly at his hip, attempting to not touch him any more than absolutely necessary.
A long moment passed, during which he imagined her watching him breathe.
And even that simple action became difficult.
He wondered if she’d noticed his erection straining at the fly of his pants, or how he’d fisted his hands with the tension coursing through him.
“Rick.” The word was choked out, and when he looked at her, she was blushing.
Yeah, she’d noticed.
Only it wasn’t flattery he saw in those dark, dark eyes so solemnly watching him, but...fear?
Well, hell. “Oh, lie down,” he said far more gruffly than he’d intended.
“But—”
“Lie down.”
She held herself rigidly at his side, her bare thigh brushing his bare side. He could feel her warmth, the soft creaminess of her skin, and was already cursing himself for a fool.
“It is not that easy, you—you Neanderthal!” she snapped. “Maybe you are used to being hand-cuffed to different people every night, maybe you even like it, but for me...this is difficult to say the least.”
Lord, she was going to talk all night, and if he didn’t shut his eyes and put himself into dreamland, he was going to have a hell of a time here. His body was already nearly shaking with the sexual tension holding him captive, and he didn’t like it. “First of all,” he said, “if you mean using whatever tactic at my disposal to get the job done, then fine, I’m a Neanderthal.”
“This—” she held up their joined hands “—is illegal.”
“Give me a break, we’re in Brazil. Country of sinners.”
“Let...me...go. I want—”
“Look, unless you’re going to tell me where your sister is, how about you don’t talk?”
She opened her mouth to retort to that—hotly, he was quite certain—so he put a finger to her soft lips, nearly groaning at the feel of her. He thought of all the uses he could find for that mouth and then did groan, his hips actually arching of their own accord. “I mean it, Nina.”
Her gaze jerked up to his. “You are...” Her face went even redder as she resolutely stared at him. “You know.”
“Sporting a hard-on? Yes. Why, yes, I am.”
Her gaze again darted down his body, past his chest, right to the point of impact.
He got even harder. “Okay, this is how this is going to work. Lie down. Close your eyes. And shut up.”
He himself did all three, and waited with bated breath, silently begging her to do the same.
But even he had to admit, if the situation was reversed, he’d have a hell of a time doing as he’d ordered her.
“You will not...touch me?”
“Believe me,” he said, eyes still closed. “Sleep is all I’m after.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“I wish I knew you,” she whispered.
“You know what you need to. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Actually, I believe that part,” she said, surprising him into opening his eyes. “What I want to believe is that you are an honorable man. That you are a man who would not...take advantage of a woman like me.”
“A woman like you?”
She blushed again, but kept her eyes on his. “Inexperienced.”
Aw, hell, he didn’t want to know this. Didn’t want her looking at him as if maybe he could be someone he wasn’t.
Couldn’t she see he was a man for hire, and nothing more?
That he would never, ever again get personally involved in a case? That he’d never let anyone touch him on the inside, because his emotions were gone? He’d buried them good and deep when Mary Jo had died, so much so that he’d been certain they no longer even existed.
Until tonight.
Normally, being with a woman for longer than it took to mutually satisfy each other made him claustrophobic. But perversely, the more time he spent with Nina, the less he could seem to resist her charms. Truth was, since he first saw her, he’d been tempted to turn his bounty hunter skills on himself and find the real Rick.
And then share that man with her.
“Lie down,” he said, feeling strained. “I can behave myself.”
“Take off the handcuffs. Please?”
“And have you take off again? I don’t think so. Now hurry up. I’m tired.”
She hesitated another very long, painful moment. Finally, she tugged at the hem of her T-shirt and, careful to keep herself covered, gingerly lay on her back next to him, their joined hands between them.
The silence stretched out.
Nina’s feet rubbed together, so did her thighs. Her nipples, abraded by the material of her shirt, stood at erect attention.
And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Then she shivered.
With a particularly foul oath, Rick grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it over them, hoping against hope that if he couldn’t actually see her incredible body, he might be able to forget it.
Didn’t happen.
In strained silence, they lay there in the dark, both holding their breath.
It was a long, long time before Nina finally dozed off.
And an even longer time for Rick.
* * *
THE DOUBT that had taken root deep inside couldn’t be assuaged.
Terry Monteverde was dead.
Yes. She was. Dead.
Dead.
Repeating it became as necessary as breathing. Terry Monteverde was dead. Dead. Dead. It didn’t help that the body had never been viewed.
Damn it, why had that been?
And why hadn’t the thought occurred before now?
Because a coffin was a coffin, and when you saw it being lowered into the ground, you believed it to be full, that’s why.
There would be no peace, no relief of this tension, until the coffin had been opened and the body of Terry Monteverde seen. Now.
It was midnight.
In the cemetery.
The stuff nightmares were made of. But that fit. This life had indeed become a nightmare, and the irony of the entire situation did not fail to hit as the dirt and twigs crunched beneath booted feet.
The walk was long, but the moon was high. Far below, the city of Rio glittered.
And fed a growing, crawling, frustrated temper.
That this could happen now, a year and a half later, was beyond imagination. That Terry Monteverde could possibly be alive, walking around with all her wild beauty, stoked an uncontrollable rage.
The graveyard, on a steep, mostly overgrown hill, caused much cursing and slipping and sliding.
Finally, the right grave...just ahead. She’s dead. Dead!
She had to be.
By moonlight and flashlight, the engraved name shimmered in the night.
Senhorita Terry Monteverde.
She was right there, long gone and buried.
She was.
“You got what you deserved, Terry Monteverde!”
Still, the niggle of doubt wouldn’t go away. It had grown steadily over the past weeks, even more with that American bounty hunter dogging Nina’s heels the past few days. It made no sense; Nina was a nobody. Something was up, something was wrong, and it had led to this midnight run of the graves.
Luckily, there was no concrete vault, and the dirt was soft and giving beneath the shovel, and within moments, a good hole was started. The rest took longer than expected. Hours actually, and by the time the coffin was exposed, breathing had become ragged, the lines between nightmare and reality blurred.
“You are dead. You are!”
Looking at the coffin wasn’t enough. It had to be opened, which was shockingly easy. Jumping down into the hole, covered in dirt by this time and no longer even caring, opening the lid with shaking hands...
A scream pierced the night. “No, no, no, no, no!” With another horrible cry, knees hit the dirt. Fists slammed on the wood.
There was no body inside the coffin.
Only sandbags.
A dirt-streaked face was raised to the night sky. “Revenge!” This was a solemn vow. “I will get revenge, Terry Monteverde! I will find you and make you wish you had died in that boat!”
* * *
IN HER DREAMS, Nina was cold and afraid.
Alone.
Shivering, she tried to escape by turning away, found there was indeed warmth to be had, if she wanted it. All she had to do was roll from her back to her side and there it was.
All she’d ever wanted, within her reach.
Going for that incredible heat, she snuggled in, feeling it surround her, sighing with pleasure, and something even more.
Sleeping had never felt so good.
There came a low rumble in her ear, a cross between an encouraging groan and a growl, and with that sound an incredibly warm, strong arm slipped around her waist. A hand nudged the small of her back, urging her even closer.
She felt safe and secure, and because this was a dream—a really great dream—she sighed again and practically crawled up that delicious hard length.
It felt heavenly.
Smelled heavenly, too, sort of like a warm, toasty, sleepy male, but that couldn’t be right since she rarely had erotic dreams.
But it felt so real.
She couldn’t hold herself back, she had to press her face into his throat and inhale deeply, she had to touch, so she lifted a hand to do just that, anticipating the feel of smooth, hot flesh, but her hand was caught—
On handcuffs.
Jerked awake by the horrible reality of her life—being manacled to an American bounty hunter with a sharp mouth and an even sharper desire to get the truth from her—she went stock-still and opened her eyes.
Skin.
That was all she saw.
She was face-to-face, chest to chest, thigh to thigh with a very warm body, looking at a throat... Rick’s throat.
She’d crawled all over him!
He wasn’t moving though, which was strange, so she tipped her head back very slowly, very carefully, as if she’d found herself in the path of a cougar, which of course she had.
The cougar had the nerve to still be asleep.
If she’d been a mean-spirited woman, she might have smacked him, but the fact was, she’d curled into him, and she’d pressed her body full length to his, while he’d done just as he’d promised.
He’d slept.
The sun was peeking over the horizon, and she could feel the rays slowly climbing through the room and heating it up.
It would be a warm one today, even up here in the mountains.
Such banal thoughts momentarily took her away from the fact she’d wrapped herself around this perplexing—albeit gorgeous—man, but not for long, not when every pulse point drummed furiously, not when she felt all liquidy and hot, yet cold as ice all at the same time.
She was deadly certain she knew what was wrong with her, and the knowing was not comforting.
Lusting!
After a man holding her against her will, a man she had no idea if she could trust with her secrets, a man who somehow both drew and repelled her.
Okay, that was a lie.
He didn’t repel her, not even close.
The way they were lying, she could see only his face. To tip her head down any further would surely wake him up, but she didn’t need to see the rest, not when she could feel perfectly well, and oh my, what she felt. His one free hand was curled around her waist, the weight of his arm over her hip. He had one leg between hers, and Nina was shocked to find her own thigh muscles tensed, holding him there, as if she had been afraid he’d move that leg away.
Good thing he was fast asleep, God only knew what he’d think of the way she’d plastered herself to him.
But how to back off now without waking him?
Slowly, very slowly, she relaxed her leg muscles, which were sore, as if she’d clung to him all night. Her face flamed at the thought.
Nina Monteverde never clung!
Okay, now...she eased her legs back carefully.
“Mmm,” he said, his eyes still closed, his far too sexy mouth curved ever so slightly. His hand, low on her back, tightened, his fingers playing softly over her bare skin.
Her bare skin!
One glance downward assured her that yes, oh yes, her worse nightmare had occurred. The hem of her shirt had risen to her waist, and he indeed had his hand against her spine, just above her panties.
“Mmm,” he said again, those fingers of his dancing across her now goose-bumped flesh. His mouth, only inches from hers, dipped to her throat. His chest, bare and warm, pressed against hers, while his hips arched just enough that she could feel every inch of him.
He was fully aroused, just as he’d been last night.
“Rick,” she said, meaning to sound strong and certain, but really sounding as breathless as if she’d run a marathon. “I think maybe we need to get up.”
She thought maybe they needed to get up?
That was a laugh! She needed to run far and fast. She needed a cold shower. She needed a reality check of some kind, and she was smart enough to know they needed to move, before this strange sense of yearning and aching went any further, before he—
Oh, God.
Before he did that, exactly that! His mouth opened on her neck in a hot, wet kiss, making her want to purr and stretch like a kitten.
His thigh once again slipped between hers, gliding high enough to stroke her oh-so-sensitized flesh in such a way that she actually cried out.
At the sound, he went utterly still for the longest moment in history, before slowly lifting his head to stare down into her face.
That was all he moved, just his head, so that they were still entwined, but the look on his face, such perfect befuddlement and arousal and heat and frustration, made her let out a high laugh. “I, um, think we shifted somewhat in our sleep.”
He didn’t answer, just looked at her, his entire body tense.
“I was just going to get up.” She bit her lip. “But you would have to move, too, you see, and I was not sure how to wake you.”
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
And why, oh why, when she was with him, did she want to throw out the good girl image she’d so carefully cultivated all her life and be the real Nina? “Rick?”
Or maybe she leaned toward him.
She managed a little smile. “I think—”
“You think too much.” His voice was low and husky from sleep.
She closed her eyes in the echo of that husky voice. It was a strong sound, and a very sexy one. “Yes, but—”
“You talk too much, too.” He leaned over her, his shoulders blocking out the morning sun, the morning heat, everything but him, and when her body arched up, just a little, he moaned.
“Okay, maybe I do think and talk too much,” she whispered. “But—”
“Nina.” That was it, just her name, in that serrated voice that told her he was doing the same slow burn that she was.
Her body was fitting itself more tightly to his in order to try to quench that burn, and he met her more than halfway.
“Rick, I—”
In answer, his mouth covered hers, swallowing anything she might have managed to eke out. It was a fierce kiss, with little to temper it, and she fed the heat by opening her mouth to his. Both of them lifted their hands toward each other at the same time, and both came up against the restraints of the handcuffs.
Catching her face with his free hand, Rick brought her mouth back to his, using his tongue to bind her to him while he entwined the fingers of their connected hands. The gesture was so unexpectedly sweet, it threw Nina off. Fierceness she could have resisted. Roughness she could have resisted.
Anything but this tenderness and raw, desperate hunger that went on and on. When he finally pulled back, she could only blink up at him. “That was...” Simply the most soul-searching, heart-wrenching kiss of her life.
“Yeah.” He didn’t looked pleased.
She licked her lips, unable to believe how much she wanted, ached, needed. This had never happened to her, never, and she had to have more to see if it could happen again. To see if it could get even better, though she couldn’t imagine it. “Maybe we could try that just one more time, just to see if...”
He let out a short laugh, but in his eyes was a grim determination that scared her.
He’d already pulled away.
He was going to get up, wasn’t going to give her one more kiss to treasure.
How could this have happened? How could she find herself attracted to the most ill-mannered, bad-tempered, dangerous, sexy man she’d ever met?
Okay, the attraction she understood. It wasn’t her fault, or even his, it was simply chemical.
But there was more. He made her yearn for everything that had been missing in her life. For a moment she imagined how this would be if they actually liked each other, if they lived in a different place and time where they could trust each other. But those thoughts terrified her. He made her wonder about things better left alone, such as what it would be like to be made love to by such an intense, driven man.
“Please,” she whispered, horrifying herself with the plea. “One more.”
“Nina.” There was a warning in his voice. A warning, and a plea as well.
He wasn’t going to do it.
So for once in her life, she made the first move. She fisted her free hand in his hair, pulled his head to hers and planted her mouth on his.