The Agent's Surrender (18 page)

Trevor saw them outside, then Jane and Holden put Butterfly Bend in their rearview mirror. “I really thought that was going to lead somewhere,” Jane said once they hit the freeway. Holden’s disappointment was tangible and squeezing out the air in the car. “Tomorrow we’ll check out that safety deposit box,” she said, trying to lift his spirits. “Something helpful is bound to be in that. I can feel it in my bones.”

He graced her with a short smile to acknowledge her but otherwise remained silent the entire ride back to his place. But as they exited the car, Holden stopped her to ask, “How about dinner?” and she knew the smart thing to do would be to politely decline, but his vulnerable expression tugged at her in a way that, if she’d been thinking clearly, would’ve been a warning.

“Just dinner?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said bluntly.

“And would it be so bad if it turned out to be more than just dinner?”

She sighed. “Yes and no.”

“Is it mostly yes or mostly no?”

“I think it’s mostly freezing out here. Promise me it’ll just be dinner and we’ll talk about the case, and I’ll stay.”

With a look of resignation, he agreed. “Sure. A working dinner. Sounds great.”

Oh, he’s lying through his perfect teeth. He wants more and he’ll try to get it, too.
And yet... “All right. What’s for dinner?”

“I have a few steaks in the fridge. How are you with a salad?”

She cast a derisive look his way as they entered the building. “I can make a salad that’ll knock your socks off. Remember? Even my father, who is as persnickety as it comes, raves about my salads.”

“Good.” He smirked and started climbing the stairs, giving her an excellent view of his beautiful butt.

Yeah...this was so not a good idea.

* * *

Holden was trying not to let his disappointment color the evening, but it was there, beneath the surface, lurking like an unwelcome guest, sullying his enjoyment of a decent evening with Jane. By the time the wine came out, he was ready to talk.

“So how long are you going to pretend like everything is okay?” she asked as they walked to the living room and sat on the sofa together. It felt intimate as the fire crackled in the gas grate and filled the room with dancing light. Dinner had been fantastic. Between his grilling skills and Jane’s epic salad-making talents, they’d made a dinner worth talking about. Jane tucked her feet beneath her and faced him as she sipped her wine. “I get it...I was hoping for more to go off, too.”

He stared at his wine, wishing he’d grabbed a beer, but he took a measured sip anyway before answering. “The clock is ticking. I needed there to be more to go off. The end of the week is approaching fast. Going to California ate up valuable time.”

“Chief Harris will give us more time if we can show him what we’ve got.”

“What do we have? A bunch of uncomfortable coincidences? A few plausible theories? Which translate to nothing that will stand up in court. I can’t let this go, Jane. Why couldn’t Miko have left behind less cryptic clues?” he asked with frustration.

“You miss him.” It was a statement, not a question. Of course he missed him, but he sensed she knew that it went deeper than that. And she was right.

“Miko and I were always close. Goes with the twin territory. But I think because our old man was such a sorry excuse for a father we leaned on each other even more than most brothers would. We were each other’s support system. We did everything together.”

“From the limited information I know about twins, that sounds about right. What changed?”

“Miko changed. That last year he was standoffish and started pushing me away. He became surly and curt whenever I tried to find out what was wrong. By the time he died, we were barely speaking. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he did it—he didn’t know how to reach out to me anymore.”

“That must’ve been hard for you, not having your brother around like you used to.”

“It was hell. I tried to blow it off, but it was there, sticking in my throat like a chicken bone, choking me to death. And there was nothing I could do about it. Miko was determined to keep me at arm’s length. Now I kick myself for not pushing harder for answers.”

“Before this investigation with you, I would’ve said he was reacting to a guilty conscience.” She swirled her wine. “Now I think there might be some merit to the theory he was protecting you.”

He thanked her with a smile. “Well, I sure hope so. Then again, I wish he would’ve just told me what was going on. I might’ve been able to help and maybe he’d still be here.”

She nodded and sipped from her glass. They sat in easy, comfortable silence, and Holden wondered if he’d ever felt more at ease with a woman, much less one he’d slept with. He’d never been one for long-term attachments, but he liked the idea of attaching to Jane. Something about her turned his crank in all the right ways. Hell, even the way she stubbornly refused to be with him because of her father and brothers—that dogged loyalty—was sexy. “You close with your brothers?” he asked.

Jane took her time answering, as if she didn’t want to inadvertently say something that would reflect badly on her family. “Yeah, they’re good guys. Sometimes I wish they’d stop mirroring our father and stop treating me like some fragile female who can’t parallel park. Frankly, I pity the women they end up with. Impossible standards.”

He chuckled at this rare bit of sharing. Must be the wine loosening her tongue. “So they’ve never brought home a special woman? Someone they were in a long-term relationship with?”

“No. I don’t think either of them are interested in settling down. Sometimes I think my mom did a number on all of us. Fear of commitment seems a pretty common theme among the Fallon men.”

“So that’s why your dad never remarried?”

“I guess.” A wry smile lifted her lips. “But what woman would put up with him? Aside from Claudine, of course. And even then...sometimes I wish she’d just whack him upside the head.”

“Whoa...look at you, feeling your oats,” Holden said, smiling. “And who is Claudine?”

“My dad’s housekeeper and cook. She keeps him looking civilized. Heaven forbid he leave the house without his shirts perfectly pressed. Until Claudine came around, I was expected to handle that detail. To this day, I hate ironing,” she revealed. “I send out my clothes to a dry cleaner. I’m not even sure I own an iron.”

He laughed. “Feels good, huh? Breaking the rules?”

She shared his laughter. “Yeah. When I got my first apartment, I ate straight from the peanut-butter jar, just stuck my finger in and took a dollop. My father would’ve had a heart attack if he’d seen me do that at home.”

“My old man used to keep his fishing gear in the garage and never, under any circumstances, were we allowed to touch it. Well, he was drunk more often than he was sober and when the hell was he going to go fishing? So during the summer Miko and I would grab his gear and go down to the creek whenever he passed out. We’d catch a few fish, grill ’em up out in the woods, then come home with full bellies and the old man snoring off his bender, none the wiser. That is, until Miko broke the rod.”

“Oh, damn. How’d you get out of that one?”

“We convinced the old man he’d broken it during one of his drunken rages. He couldn’t ever remember what he did during those times, so he bought it. Saved our asses, I can tell you that.”

Their shared laughter wove a tighter band of closeness around them, and it was hard not to feel it pulling them together. “This is nice,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you invited me to dinner. You’re not half-bad on the grill.”

“And you’re not half-bad with the greens.”

“Not a bad team, I guess.”

“Not bad at all.”

Holden withheld the sigh building behind his chest. She was so beautiful. He could stare at her all night—and not in a creeper sort of way, but in an
I think I love you sort of way.
He couldn’t tell her that yet. That was a shortcut to losing all the good feelings between them. Wasn’t that his dumb luck?
Find a good woman that you can’t have. Good going, Archangelo.
Time to switch things up a bit before he sank too low into his own maudlin thoughts. “Tell me about growing up with The Major,” he said. “I can imagine, but paint me a picture.”

She groaned. “That’s a boring picture and you’ve already painted a pretty accurate version.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine.” She sighed, settling her empty glass on the coffee table. “Well, it was as you imagined. Very strict, very regimented and little room for dissent in the ranks. And I was always at the bottom of the chain of command.”

“Is it because you were the youngest?”

“No. It was because I was a female.”

“Your father is sexist?”

“Oh, in the worst way, and he doesn’t even apologize for it. Men are smarter, more capable and more trustworthy—according to The Major.”

“Ouch. But you’re highly accomplished,” he pointed out, really fighting the urge to tell Jane that her father was a card-carrying asshole.

“Yeah, and you’d think I’d get an
atta boy
now and then, but nope. I’m successful
because
of my father. He’s flat-out told me the reason I’ve risen in the ranks is because of who my father is.”

“That’s total bullshit. I’ve seen your file.”

She cocked a brow at him. “Oh? A little light reading?”

“If you’ve seen your file you know it’s not light reading. You’ve got some serious cred behind your name, and it’s not because of your father. You know, Jane, just because someone is serving up cow manure doesn’t mean you have to take a bite.”

A warm, vulnerable sweetness suffused her expression and he wondered if she knew just how fabulous she was. She was the total package: beauty, brawn and brains. Any guy would be lucky to call her his. And The Major was an idiot for not realizing what a treasure his daughter was. “You can be pretty charming when you put your mind to it,” she said.

“I know,” he grinned, placing his wineglass near hers and leaning toward her to steal a kiss. She stopped him with a gentle hand, her gaze searching his. “Let me kiss you,” he said softly, but she shook her head in a small motion. “Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he said, startling her with his abrupt change in tactic. She worried her bottom lip, almost in invitation, and when she slowly nodded, his smile deepened as he closed the distance between their lips. “Then let me.”

Chapter 17

J
ane allowed Holden to press her into the soft cushion as his mouth teased hers in a brutally devastating invasion that left her aching and wanting. The spiraling need drilling down to her groin flushed her system with hazy desire and she clung to Holden, needing to feel him against her. What was it about this man that sent her good sense running for cover? It wasn’t that he was simply a good lover—she’d enjoyed plenty of men between the sheets—so what was it? Something about Holden called out to that distinctly feminine part of herself and caused it to go weak in the knees with butterfly wings in the belly. Talk about an occupational hazard.

“You are the most sensual woman I’ve ever met,” he said against her lips, helping her out of her sweater and tossing it aside. He ran his fingers along the lacy cups of her bra and then nuzzled the valley of her breasts, inhaling her scent. “And your skin smells like cake and cookies.” He sat up suddenly to ask, “Why is that, exactly?”

“Brown Sugar and Brownie body lotion,” she answered with an embarrassed laugh. “I bought it on a whim.”

“Well, it’s amazing,” he growled, moving to her neck. “As if you weren’t delicious enough....”

She laughed with pure delight as he teased all the sensitive spots of her neck, sucking and biting until she was no longer laughing but panting and pulling at the buckle on his jeans. “So impatient,” he chuckled as he leaned back to give her better access.

She pinned him with a sensual look as she made quick work of his jeans and shoved them down around his thighs. “If we’re going to go balls to the wall with career-ending moves, we’d better make it worth our while.”

“Hell yeah, baby,” he agreed feverishly, sucking in a tight breath when her lips wrapped around the head of his erection. Jane thrilled at the way the backs of his knees trembled as she worked him with her mouth. His fingers threaded through her hair and pulled with delectable pressure. He guided her with his hands, his touch becoming urgent. “Oh, jeez, Janey...oh!” He tried to push her away, but she wasn’t going to let him. She wanted him to know that she gave as good as she got and she expected his best. She wanted him to forget about Miko for tonight and just enjoy being in the company of a woman. His moan turned her on as much as his kisses. She rose and planted a kiss on his mouth before leading him to his bedroom. “Marry me, Jane Fallon,” he said breathlessly as he tumbled to the bed, grinning like the devil as she straddled him. “You’ve just ruined me for other women.”

“Too bad for you,” she teased as she wiggled on top of him, taunting him with her body. “Now it’s your turn. Whaddya got for me?”

His playful demeanor changed, and with a growl he rolled her onto her back so he towered over her. She knew that look and it thrilled her senseless. She felt stripped bare, as if he could see into her very soul, and although it was a foreign sensation, with Holden she wasn’t afraid. “You shouldn’t throw down gauntlets like that, sweet girl,” he warned in a silky tone as he plucked at a puckered nipple with his lips. She shuddered and grinned. He was such a tease. “Now there will be no mercy.”

“Bring it on,” she dared, lifting her chin with a smile. “I can take whatever you can dish out.”

One dark brow lifted as a slow, sexy smile formed on his lips, making her shiver in anticipation as he said, “Challenge accepted,” right before sealing his mouth to hers in a mind-altering kiss.

As Holden moved between her legs, she clamped a hand over her eyes as she lost herself in pure pleasure and realized it was official—she was addicted to Holden Archangelo.

And just like all good addictions, he had the power to trash everything she’d worked so hard for in her life.