Too Wild to Hold. Julie Leto

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СКАЧАТЬ his ancestor notwithstanding, Claire Lécuyer took herself entirely too seriously. He would know. He usually did the same.

      But not tonight. Not with her. Casting aside the fact that he was dressed like an idiot while prancing around for some voyeur’s video camera with moves he hadn’t used since his ballroom-obsessed fifth grade teacher taught her class the box step, Michael felt entirely at ease. Dancing with Claire—no, holding her close—felt nearly as natural as taking her into his protective custody.

      Again, he wondered about the ring. According to legend, it allowed the wearer to access the three qualities most often associated with the dashing character the unsub had appropriated for his sexual fantasy. A strong desire to impart justice to the wicked. An insatiable desire for adventure. And, of course, an enviable talent with women.

      Michael didn’t believe any of that nonsense, but he knew one thing for sure: if he was going to go up against a madman to save Claire Lécuyer, he’d take all the help he could get.

      “I don’t need a bodyguard,” she murmured, her lips drawn in a severe line. “I used to be a cop, you know.”

      “Of course I know,” he replied, taking a chance at a second twirl that made her gasp in surprise. “I’ve made it my business to know everything about you. At least, everything that could be collected in an FBI file. But law enforcement experience doesn’t make you invincible.”

      “No, but it does make me smarter about my safety than the average woman.”

      “So smart that I had my hand around your throat and could have taken you out of here without anyone thinking it was more than some sexual game?”

      Claire swallowed, the movement mesmerizing, particularly in the uncertain lamp light. Getting the jump on her had been a lucky break, but she didn’t need to know that. Between the music, the lights, the swirl and swish of multi-colored gowns, it was a miracle he’d spotted her so quickly.

      Though she was pretty tough to miss.

      The rest of the women had gone to great lengths to look young and fresh, but Claire was naturally both. She’d applied her makeup with a light hand and wore a gown of pale ivory that emphasized the rich caramel hue of her skin. From the curves and lines in her shoulders and bare arms, he guessed that she worked out regularly—probably outside in the wet Louisiana heat. Despite the sweet young persona she’d adopted, she moved with a bold confidence that had snatched the attention of nearly every other man in the room. Any with taste.

      For that reason, he’d acted quickly. The minute he’d sensed her scanning the room for the woman she was looking for, he’d darted into action.

      But for all he knew, the Bandit had been in the room, too, stalking her just like he was.

      “Is that what this is?” she asked. “Some sort of sexual game you’ve invented to get me into bed?”

      “Don’t flatter yourself,” he replied, trying not to give the idea any serious consideration. “This is all an act we’re putting on for whoever is watching us. We’ll play their game until I can get you the hell out of here.”

      “I’m not leaving,” she insisted.

      “You have a maniac after you.”

      Her frown emphasized her plump lips. “You don’t think I’d notice if someone was stalking me?”

      “No,” he answered simply. “Not this guy. He knows all about you. He knows you used to be a cop and that you’re now a private investigator. He’d realize that you’d be a challenge. He’d change his mode of operation. He’ll pull out all the stops. Whatever it takes.”

      “But how could he get in here, with all the security? And how would he know I was here? I had to be super cautious to make sure these people didn’t suspect I was lying to them about who I was.”

      “I found you. And I got in on less than a day’s notice. For all you know, he owns this joint.”

      She snorted. “That’d be one hell of a coincidence. Your case and mine intertwining so neatly? He’s not here.”

      Michael tugged her closer. She pulled back, trying again to twist out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her. Whoever was on the other end of that camera was likely getting a kick out of this push-pull, but Michael was losing patience. He might find her strength sexy as hell, but he wasn’t going to let her run headfirst into danger.

      “You don’t know where he is, and neither do I,” he confessed, turning her toward the camera while he spoke directly into her ear. “This man ingratiates himself into the lives of his victims long before he sends them a scarf. He learns their habits. He memorizes their routines. He doesn’t have a name or a face, but he’s always around. Maybe he’s the guy who delivers flowers to your neighbor. Maybe he’s the new tenant in the building two doors down. Maybe he’s the guy walking his dog down your street who seems more interested in his text messages than his surroundings. Trust me when I tell you he’s been watching you for weeks, maybe months. If he’s sent you the scarf, he already knows more about you than I do—maybe more than you know about yourself.”

      The song ended. Michael stumbled when she drew up short, her cheeks slightly paler than before.

      She waited until the next song started before she asked, “You think he’s here?”

      “I don’t know.”

      He swept her back into his arms. This time the music was slower, more sensual, more intimate, requiring not so much measured movements as close contact swaying. Michael had never been much of a dancer, but moving with her in his arms felt organic. Intoxicating.

      “I need a drink,” she said, pulling away.

      She spun to the table beside the bed and fumbled with the crystal decanter. With her back to him, he became instantly enraptured by her long, kissable neck, slim shoulder blades and trim waist. And though her skirt adequately hid the curve of her hips and legs, he imagined that underneath the silk was a body just as smooth as the satiny material.

      She was pouring generous portions of brandy into the snifters when he approached her from behind. He spared the camera in the air vent a glance. Someone was capturing their every move, their every touch.

      This should have worried him.

      And yet, it didn’t.

      “Brandy?” Claire offered.

      Michael did not back away, but accepted the glass with what he hoped was an easy smile. “I take it some people don’t sign up to participate, but just to watch?”

      She took a generous sip. “And here I thought you’d come here knowing everything about this place.”

      “There wasn’t time for everything. Just enough to get me through the door.”

      She spun prettily, then settled herself on a corner of the bed. To the casual observer, the way she let the snifter linger just at the edge of her lips would appear seductive and coy. Michael noticed that as well. But he also recognized that she’d positioned herself so that when he stood across from her, his shoulder braced against the tall bed post, their faces weren’t visible to the camera.

      “And how’d you manage that, anyway?” she СКАЧАТЬ