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Kara gave him a little smile, similar to the ones she used to bestow on him when times were good and she thought they had something.
Something lasting.
Jace joined her on the bed. He pointed to her mouth. Kara framed his face with her hands and kissed him the way she once did. His beard tickled, scraped her face, but the sensation made her nerve endings flare with awareness. He tasted like the slow burn of whiskey and the hot promise of sex.
It was a long, deep kiss and he responded in turn, kissing her back as they rolled on the bed. His hands roamed over her body, the way they once did when they made love.
Her eyes closed as she surrendered to the sensations. In Jace’s arms, loving him once more, rekindling the fire that consumed them both...
A snicking sound at the door and a doorknob turning. Jace ignored it, rolled her over to her back and kept kissing her. Kara closed her eyes again, this time from terror and not pleasure.
“God dammit, Gator, you weren’t supposed to bring a woman here tonight. What the hell?”
Jace sat up. Kara shrank back, desperately groping for the bedsheet to cover herself.
“Couldn’t wait. You’re not the only one wanting to score. Go away,” Jace muttered.
She didn’t like the speculative gleam in the big man’s eyes. “Make sure she stays upstairs and doesn’t go downstairs. I’m headed out, be back in a couple of hours.”
Jace flapped a hand at the door, indicating the other biker needed to leave.
A low chuckle, followed by sexual suggestions and then footsteps out to the hallway. The door closed.
Jace sprang up, sharp and alert. He put a finger to his lips and silently walked to the door. Listened.
She could barely breathe. Kara waited, hoping he knew what he was doing.
As the sound of a motorcycle roared, Jace walked to the window and lifted the faded green curtain with the back of one hand. Kara joined him. Inky blackness outside, cut by the red glow of a bike’s taillights.
Anxiety filled her as he turned back. She didn’t care for the predatory look in his eyes.
“Now what?” she asked.
For the first time since beginning his career with the government, Jace wished he’d never worked for the FBI. Maybe he should have been a mechanic. Working on bikes and cars all day, able to leave his work in the garage when he got home. Maybe by now, he’d be married to a sweet girl and have a kid or two on the way.
Not this dread and lingering fear working undercover, knowing Kara’s life was in danger. Hell, he didn’t care about himself. He could handle things. Always had, even growing up when his old man gave him the occasional beating. Jace took it on the chin and moved on. But when someone else was involved, that’s when his sure footing slipped.
He couldn’t afford to slip up on this case. Mike might not be forgiving, and could be setting him up for something.
“Get dressed,” he told her.
When he finished dressing, she watched him with big eyes, her fear smelling like warm floral perfume and perspiration.
Not taking chances, he went to the closed door of the bedroom.
Downstairs, the kids were still drinking and playing video games.
He allowed himself a moment of relief, but not before adjusting himself. Damn, if they still didn’t share the same chemistry as before. Maybe his mind never wanted to see her again, but his body sure as hell reacted as it once did whenever they’d started to get naked with each other.
“I’m taking you home now.” He kept his voice neutral.
“The jewelry, Jace. The jewelry is here. My jewelry.” Her voice rose above a whisper. “Jace...”
“Do as I say, Kara. You walked into this problem and you’re following my orders unless you want to end up carved up like a turkey when Big Mike returns.”
She paled. Gulped. Nodded.
“Good girl.”
