Hot & Bothered. Susan Andersen

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СКАЧАТЬ him from beneath her lashes as he asked an occasional question, said several uh-huhs and scribbled notes on a legal pad, she concluded he was still as long and lanky as ever. Except for his wide shoulders, he had the type of body that looked deceptively skinny in clothing. She knew for a fact, however, that beneath the black silk T-shirt and immaculately pressed black slacks, were muscles hard as tungsten.

      Her gaze skittered back to his slacks and lingered a moment on another long and lanky shape forming an impressive bulge to the right of his fly. She tore her eyes away. Damned if she’d let herself be dragged back into those memories.

      More insidious and harder to ignore, though, was the recollection of how he’d made her feel. Good about herself. Safe. Free to explore her sexuality. He might have had a butterfly’s commitment to relationships, but she’d sensed a rock-solid core to him, and he’d treated her so nice. After a lifetime spent dodging Father’s verbal slings and arrows, she’d found Rocket’s rough-edged sweetness even more seductive than his sexual expertise.

      Involuntarily, her lips curled up. Well, that might be stretching it a bit, since the two were so closely entwined in her memories. God knew she’d been a fool for his way of making her feel like the funniest, smartest, sexiest woman in the universe. Another female might have questioned how many other women he’d made feel the same way. Victoria hadn’t cared—at least at first. More accustomed to bracing herself for a caustic remark than fielding compliments, she’d discovered protectiveness and sweet-talking attentiveness to be her personal version of Spanish Fly.

      

      “ROCKET!” SURPRISED laughter exploded out of her when sun, surf and sand suddenly whirled in a kaleidoscope of colors as he snatched her up off her feet and swung her in a half circle. She was vaguely aware of something whizzing past, but paid it no heed as she stared, mesmerized, up at the man holding her in his arms. She was five-ten, and hardly a fragile flower, but he was forever handling her with an ease that made her feel daintier than Tinkerbell.

      “Sorry,” called out a voice and Victoria blinked when Rocket set her back on her feet as abruptly as he’d swept her off them. He bent to retrieve a volleyball off the sand. Her heart thudded in slow, thick beats as she watched the fluid slide of his muscles when he tossed the ball up and, with one powerful swing of his fist, sent it winging back toward the game they’d just passed.

      That’s when her head quit whirling long enough to realize he’d just saved her from being knocked on her face by a serve ball. “You must have the reflexes of a cat.” She felt warm and secure, which in turn started nerves deep in her body to humming and she stepped close. “You couldn’t possibly have seen that coming.”

      He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “I sensed it—felt it displacing the air, probably.”

      She stroked her hands down the hair-roughed skin of his forearms. “That was just so…heroic.”

      He made a rude noise, but it died in his throat and he went very still as she leaned her weight against him and pressed a soft, openmouthed kiss against his neck.

      “I think an action so heroic deserves to be rewarded,” she murmured, pressing a second kiss a bit south of the first, humming in appreciation as her lips picked up a hint of salt from his skin. She settled her breasts more firmly against his chest and his arms wrapped around her to pull her closer yet. Feeling him begin to grow hard against her stomach, she smiled, wiggled subtly, and tilted her head back to look up at him. “Don’t you?”

      His dark eyes were heavy-lidded as he stared down at her. “Damn, Tori,” he said hoarsely, and his hands clenched on her back. “When you do stuff like that, I just want to tear your clothes off and take you where you stand.”

      She licked the little hollow at the base of his throat, feeling powerful when it made her tall, tough Marine shiver. “In front of all these people?”

      “And their little dogs, too,” he agreed, regarding her with hot, reckless eyes. “So, darlin’, unless you’re prepared to let ’em watch, I suggest you take a quick, large step back and give me a minute to regain a little control.”

      

      “I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T MEAN to keep you waiting.”

      Victoria couldn’t have started more violently if someone had goosed her with a cattle prod. Feeling her face flame, she was relieved to see that Rocket had turned away once again as he returned his cell phone to the computer case. Taking a few quick breaths, she attempted to collect herself before he focused the force of those dark eyes on her.

      “That’s quite all—” her voice sounded like Froggy and his magic twanger, and she cleared her throat “—right. May I offer you something to drink before we get started?” What on earth had she been thinking to let her mind go back there?

      “No, thanks. I’m set.” Sitting back, he opened the thin computer on his lap and looked up at her. “Why don’t you tell me about your brother.”

      “Oh. Yes. Jared. Of course.” She was mortified that for one brief instant she’d forgotten all about him.

      Annoyance straightened her spine. She’d forgotten a lot of things and that was dangerous. Forcing herself to focus, she met John’s gaze head-on. “First of all, he didn’t kill my father. I want that understood.”

      “All right. Can you tell me why you’re so certain of this?”

      She leaned forward, but before she could say a word, the office door opened and her father’s fifth wife strolled in.

      The busty blonde stopped when she saw them. Her gaze skimmed past Victoria with supreme disinterest, but John was apparently a different matter for she subjected him to a lengthy once-over. “Sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”

      Tori suppressed a sigh. “Mr. Miglionni, this is my father’s widow, DeeDee Hamilton. DeeDee, this is John Miglionni, the private investigator Father’s attorney helped me hire.”

      DeeDee’s big blue eyes grew even bigger and bluer. “Why the hell would you need a P.I.? As far as I can tell, the only even halfway interesting thing you’ve ever done is piss off your daddy by having Es—”

      “Mr. Miglionni has a reputation as the man to call when a teenager is missing. He’s going to find Jared.”

      “No shit? Aren’t you worried the cops’ll slap him in irons the minute you bring him home?”

      Fury flared in Victoria’s chest. “Jared didn’t kill Father!”

      The lush blonde simply shrugged.

      “He did not.”

      DeeDee looked bored. “Okay, fine. So why did he run, then?”

      “Well, let me think. Could it be that he stumbled across his father’s dead body, and that he’s seventeen years old and it probably scared him to death? Or for all we know, he could have walked in while Father was being killed. Am I the only one worried that he might not have left voluntarily?”

      “Yes.”

      “For heaven’s sake, DeeDee, if you’ve spent any time with him at all, you must know he hasn’t got a violent bone in his body.”

      “Yeah? So how the hell would you know? Except СКАЧАТЬ