Red-Hot & Reckless. Tori Carrington

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СКАЧАТЬ as he thought it, Alex knew she wouldn’t return. She was the type that, once she sensed danger, would disappear back into the woodwork from which she’d emerged. A search of her room yesterday and this morning had revealed absolutely nothing of the woman who inhabited it. Nothing that would require her to return to the room. His guess was that she either kept her personal items in her generously sized leather tote, or that her occasional visits to various bus and airport lockers explained the lack of anything left behind.

      Which is exactly why she’d been so difficult to catch.

      And precisely the reason he intended to catch her.

      Alex Cassavetes always nabbed his man. Or in this case, his woman. A very clever, seductive and endlessly fascinating woman who slipped through his fingers like quicksilver and for the first time made him question his abilities as an insurance investigator.

      He caught himself fingering an item in his pants pocket, then slid it out and stared at it. No, you wouldn’t find Nicole Bennett’s likeness on any Wanted posters. Or even any alerts circulating to local and federal law enforcement agencies. Nicole Bennett—if that was even her name—was smarter than that. For the most part, she targeted other thieves. Marks that would have to be the ultimate in obtuse to report the thefts. She was more of a ghost that sensed when a large score was about to go down and then would swoop in and make off with the booty with nary a soul the wiser.

      Except for Alex.

      He stepped into the lobby of the rundown hotel where he’d hung his hat for the past two days, eyed where an aging hooker and a john were haggling with the desk manager, then took the steps to the second floor two at a time.

      He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when he’d put two-and-two together and come away with Nicole Bennett. He’d been in the middle of the third month of tracking down the diamonds that Christine Bowman and her dangerous band of thieves had made away with. Christine had been arrested and charged, and later convicted, of the theft and the death of two security guards, but the diamonds had never been recovered. The insurance company he worked for had been out a great deal of money. But something had been bothering him about the whole case, something hovering just beyond his reach. So he’d pulled an all-nighter going over everything related to the case when something in his brain finally clicked. He’d methodically thumbed through the security shots taken from a St. Louis bus station and found the image of the woman standing half in shadow in the far corner while Christine Bowman was arrested on the other side of the station. The mystery woman had gone unnoticed, despite her black leather trench coat and striking features. Then he’d rifled through photos taken from similar thefts, incidents where the thieves were caught but the spoils were curiously missing. And he’d come across two more partial photographs of the shadowy woman in black standing on the fringes of the goings-on. An interview with St. Louis P.I. Ripley Logan had yielded him a name: Nicole Bennett.

      The same name on the hotel register for the room across from his.

      He turned the corner of the second-floor hall. His room was halfway down the vomit-green corridor with its narrow wood doors and tarnished knob and lock plates. Room 107. He slid his key into the lock, then paused, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He slid a glance over his shoulder at the peephole to Room 108. Nicole?

      He pushed his door open and paused. Before he could question the wisdom of his actions, he walked across the hall and knocked on the door to Room 108, his gaze steadily on the peephole.

      Silence.

      Alex cocked a half grin. He knew she was there. Sensed it with every molecule.

      He raised his hand to knock again, then heard the lock mechanism turn. And instantly found out exactly what it was like to encounter those coal-black eyes up close and personal.

      Nicole Bennett swung the door open all the way, then leaned against the jamb and crossed her arms.

      Alex felt like someone had just given him a sucker punch to the gut. There emanated such a sizzling current about her that he was distantly surprised he wasn’t suffering electrocution.

      “You wanted something?” she asked, looking at him as intently as he was looking at her.

      Alex’s grin grew. Oh, but she was slick. Very slick. You wouldn’t suspect that she was aware he was tailing her. But he knew. Knew by the way he hadn’t heard her step to the door—she must have been standing on the other side of it watching for him. And since he knew she’d already seen him on the street, well, he had plenty of evidence that proved she wasn’t that dumb.

      He allowed his gaze to drop to the deep vee of her black leather vest. She had a knockout figure. Not that you could tell by the loose leather coat she’d worn up until a few weeks ago when the warm weather had forbidden it. He appreciated the subtle muscle tone of her arms, and the way her breasts pressed together, offering up a virtual buffet of sweet flesh that made his mouth water.

      “Yes,” he said, raising his gaze back to her face to find her cheeks touched with the slightest color.

      “Hi, I’m Alex.” He waited for her to offer an introduction of herself, but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t. “I’m across the hall.” He tried looking into her room, as if he hadn’t been in it two minutes after she had left that morning. “Did housekeeping bring you towels? Because I—”

      She stepped from the door to the tiny bathroom to her right and grabbed a dingy gray, threadbare towel. She handed it to him.

      “Thanks.”

      “Don’t mention it.” She closed the door, then slid the lock home.

      Alex stood for long moments grinning at his feet. There hadn’t been the sound of her moving away from the door, which meant that she was probably looking at him again from the peephole. He decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to give a little salute as he crossed back to the other side of the hall.

      Interesting. He let himself into his room. She had not only come back to the hotel, but didn’t seem fazed in the least by the knowledge that he was tailing her. Or she wasn’t entirely certain and was trying to force his hand. Either way, he gave her a lot of credit. Never in his career had he met a woman so sure of herself.

      And so totally hot.

      Maybe this wasn’t over yet.

      2

      ALEX.

      Mmm…

      Nicole stood on the fringes of the party, her short, sleek socialite blond wig in place—nothing too flashy or too trendy—her black dress clingy yet elegant. Her second favorite quote after Bette Davis’s memorable words were “Lead me not into temptation; I can find the way myself,” written by author Rita Mae Brown. And if Alex was anything, he was one hundred percent pure temptation. And like it or not, she was definitely leading herself into it…and to him.

      She twisted her lips and scanned the gathering of a hundred and fifty people looking for anyone that might appear out of place. A little voice told her that the instant she’d made her tail, she should have been in a taxi straight to the airport. Forget the boardinghouse. Forget the job. Forget everything but losing Alex. She accepted a champagne flute from a passing waiter with a small, close-lipped smile, then watched him move on, unwittingly comparing him to the man who was occupying far too much of her thoughts.

      Alex.

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