Dangerous Curves Page 12

  As the crowd dispersed, Jake took her hand and headed away from Mallory Square into the heart of Key West. “Hope you like seafood,” he said, trying to keep his mind off the woman beside him. It proved to be an impossible task.

  He’d never expected the dress to look so good or to fit so well. It hugged every part of her, giving his imagination a healthy taste of what lay beneath.

  He knew better than this. He knew better than to get involved with Sam. She was trouble. Correction: she was a hell of a woman, and under different circumstances... But it didn’t make sense to dwell on what might have been. Trouble seemed to follow Sam—and him, as long as he was with her. The sooner he got away from her, the better.

  “That’s fine,” she replied, her mind clearly elsewhere.

  They walked to Haley’s, an open-air café on a busy corner. The restaurant was already packed. Jake elbowed his way through the crowd, holding Sam’s hand tightly in his. He claimed a table by the street just as the band began to play. While Sam watched the band, he watched her.

  He could hardly believe that this was the same woman he’d rescued from the glades only yesterday. She looked calm, self-possessed. She absorbed the activity around them with the sharp awareness only a photographer could have. He was glad to see that she seemed to have recovered from the worst effects of the drugs. But he knew it would be days before she felt like her old self. By then she would be long gone from his life if everything worked out the way it was supposed to. For some reason he didn’t want to analyze, that thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

  The band launched into a lively rock tune that vibrated the floor and made talking impossible. A young, harried-looking waitress came over and leaned close to Jake. “What do you want?” she yelled.

  Jake leaned close to Sam. “You want me to order for you?”

  Sam waved her hand and nodded, her concentration focused on the music. Jake placed their order and the waitress pressed through the crush of people to the bar. Turning back to Sam, Jake saw the glazed look in her eyes and his stomach clenched into a knot.

  “Sam? You all right?” His hand reached out to steady her as she swayed toward him.

  She gave hum an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just feeling a little dizzy.”

  He rested his arm along the back of her chair. He was close enough to kiss her if he wanted to. And he did want to, but knew it was wiser to keep his distance. “It’ll get better,” he said. “You just need to get some food in you.”

  She nodded. The haunted look in her eyes reminded him of the photograph on the wall at the Martins’. He wanted to ask her about it but figured she’d clam up like before. He wasn’t going to ruin tonight by telling her he’d gone back to her father’s house. He’d meant what he said at Mallory Square He wanted to forget about everything for tonight.

  The waitress brought back their drinks and Sam’s eyes went wide as she placed a mug of beer in front of Jake. Sipping her soda, she eyed him suspiciously.

  “Two-drink minimum,” he said, shrugging. He turned to the table next to them and offered the beer. A beefy guy in a loud shirt grinned and took it.

  “I didn’t say anything,” she countered.

  “But you would have if I’d turned up the mug.”

  She tilted her head toward him, her expression serious but green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Nope. I would have upended that mug on your head and given you hell.”

  He grinned. “That’s the kind of hell I could get used to.”

  The waitress returned with another beer and two plates heaped with fried shrimp and calaman. Jake passed off the second beer and ordered a soda for himself. The waitress winked at him. “Good for you.”

  The band took a break and he and Sam were able to talk at a comfortable level. She bit into a shrimp and rolled her eyes heavenward. “This is delicious.”

  “The best on the island.” Jake dug into his own food. Funny how the food always tasted better down here. He felt like he’d come home.

  Echoing his thoughts, Sam said, “It’s almost easy to forget the trouble I’m in.”

  Jake reached over and ran his fingertips across her lips. “Stop. We’re not going to talk about any of that tonight Tonight is festival time. Enjoy it.” He didn’t have to add the words while it lasts—he could see it in her eyes.

  The band started playing again, doing a lively rendition of an old tune. Sam’s eyes lit up. Tables were moved out of the way as couples got up to dance. Sam watched them and Jake could detect a note of wistful longing in her eyes. He didn’t even realize what he was going to say until he heard the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Want to dance?”

  Whatever his misgivings, Jake was rewarded with a faint smile. At Sam’s hesitant nod, he led her out onto the makeshift dance floor. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. He wasn’t much of a dancer He didn’t even like to dance. But after fifteen seconds on the dance floor with Sam, it didn’t seem to matter.

  She moved like a Florida panther, smooth and lithe. She wasn’t one of those willowy, blond model-types—all pointy angles Sam had the most luscious curves he’d ever seen. Her hips swayed to the beat and her hair swirled in a golden swath around her bare shoulders. Jake was mesmerized and moved without thinking, following her motions with something close to awe. Sam’s head was tossed back, her eyes closed, and for a moment he would have sworn she was in the throes of passion.

  The song ended—not that Jake noticed—and the band moved right into a slow, sensuous ballad. It was as if they’d been watching Sam dance, too. She ducked her head self-consciously and headed back to their table. But Jake reached out for her wrist and pulled her back onto the dance floor and into his arms. She melted against him, fitting perfectly. He knew he was hard, could feel the rigid length pressing against his jeans. But there weren’t any recriminations in Sam’s eyes as she looked up at him. Only awareness.

  “You’re an incredible dancer,” he murmured in her ear as her arms came up to drape around his neck. He liked that she smelled of soap and woman, instead of perfume.

  Her smile was slow, languid, fitting the mood of the song. “Thanks.”

  For a moment, the shadows disappeared and he felt himself grow harder because her smile was for him. Because of him. She was slightly out of breath and he wondered if it was from the dancing or from the growing sexual tension between them. They swayed to the steady beat, barely moving on the crowded dance floor. At some point, he lost the ability to know where he stopped and she started. It was as if they were making love fully clothed. He groaned.

  “Something wrong?”

  She pressed against him subtly and he had no doubt that she knew exactly what was wrong with him. He brushed a stray piece of hair back from her cheek and looked into her eyes. He could drown in those eyes.

  “Nothing you can’t cure,” he said. His brain must have gone on vacation for him to say something so sappy.

  But she only smiled. “I’ll have to see what I can do about that.” She tucked her head against his chest and swayed her hips in a way that left no doubt about her intentions.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked as Jake led her out of the restaurant and back into the street.

  The driving beat of reggae music got louder as they merged with the growing crowd. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking at the restaurant. Something about Jake made her feel reckless, and a little wild. She’d lost all inhibitions while they danced, feeling free for the first time since leaving Sunlight and Serenity.

  He didn’t help matters much. He watched her with eyes that seemed to see everything, know everything. He wanted her. She’d felt his arousal as they’d slow-danced and had felt her body respond in kind. Their attraction to each other didn’t make any sense. It was irrational, illogical. Dangerous.

  Jake started across the street, past a tattoo parlor and an occult bookstore. “Parade,” he answered, close to her ear. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist and she enjoyed the strength of him, the f
eeling of being protected.

  “It’s been years since I’ve seen a parade.”

  “I promise you’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, the procession came into view, led by a ragtag band of musicians. The parade was a bizarre scene, complete with floats and costumes.

  The float in the lead was a giant silver cylinder, with glitter and metal reflecting the bright white lights that decorated the length of it. A utility truck masqueraded as the base for the creation, while diaphanous material shaped into wings swept out into the street on both sides. At first, Sam thought it was an alien, or perhaps some nightmarish angel.

  “It’s a mosquito,” Jake said in response to her puzzled look.

  Sam laughed, finally recognizing the creation. The float motored past as a group of men, dressed in coconut-shell bras and grass skirts, danced by, playing “I Feel Pretty” on kazoos.

  After that, Sam lost track of things. There was something surreal and almost frightening about the parade. She shivered, feeling suddenly claustrophobic Jake took her hand and pulled her onto a side street, away from the crowd that pressed in on them from every side.

  “Are you ready to go back?” he asked.

  She looked up at him in the shadows, his expression lost in the darkness. “If you are.”

  A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth and he nodded. “I think I’ve had enough fun for one night”

  They were standing close—only inches apart—and Sam could feel the heat of his body. Tension crackled between them, so sharp and clear it was almost tangible. He started to lower his head and she held her breath, waiting. But then something caught his attention over her shoulder and he jerked back.

  “What? What is it?”

  He looked past her. “I thought I saw—” He shook his head and gave her a halfhearted smile. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  She knew it was something, but didn’t press it. The moment was over and when he took her hand again it was only so they wouldn’t get separated as they rejoined the crowd.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  Home. She wondered when she’d know what that word meant.

  It had to be the beer. Sure, he didn’t drink any of it, but maybe he absorbed it through osmosis. Yeah, that had to be it. As Jake and Sam walked back to the inn, he wondered what in the hell had gotten into him. He was thinking more about taking Sam to bed than the trouble they were in. She mesmerized him with her laughter, paralyzed him with the look in her eyes and aroused him with her earthy beauty.

  It was bad enough that he’d gotten dragged into her life, her problems, but suddenly he wanted to know what she would feel like in bed. It wasn’t a good thing. Nothing good could possibly come out of a relationship with her. Hell, relationships had never been his strong point, anyway.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, as they strolled past the beach.

  It was beautiful. The moon reflected off the dark ocean waves and the sand shimmered before them like an oasis. Jake could almost forget why they were here. Almost.

  Instinctively, he cast a look over his shoulder. They were safe for now. But for how long? His gut told him that this moment of reprieve was the calm before the storm.

  He could have sworn he’d seen the same sedan tonight that had been at the diner. Could they have been tracked down that quickly? He knew now that the goons at the diner and Manning’s organization weren’t connected, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Twice as many people after them meant twice as many chances of getting caught. And getting killed.

  As if sensing his tension, Sam moved a little closer to him. Their hands came together of their own accord and Jake enjoyed the feel of her fingers entwined with his. It was nice to have Sam on his arm as they strolled down the quiet, moonlit street. It felt...right.

  “What’s the matter, Jake?”

  She was forever asking him what was wrong, what he was thinking. It drove him mad, but then again, it was kind of nice. “Just figuring out what we’re going to do tomorrow.” He hadn’t told her about the film. He knew she would be angry with him for going back to her father’s house without her. And right now, he didn’t want her mad at him.

  She stopped on the sidewalk, her hair shimmering like spun gold. She looked up at him and flashed him a wistful smile. “We’re not supposed to think about anything tonight. Remember?”

  His arms came around her, settling on her hips as he pulled her closer. “But there’s a problem. I can’t stop thinking about you.” He bent his head, tasting her lips.

  She molded her body to his, every curve fitting so tightly against him he didn’t think he’d be able to breathe. Her tongue touched his, tentative at first, then inviting as he deepened the kiss. Her fingertips trailed down his back, then up again, scratching lightly at his shirt. He groaned into her mouth as she shifted closer, the thin material of her dress reminding him how little she was wearing.

  She pulled back, her heavy-lidded eyes speaking volumes. “I think we should go back to the room.” Her voice was husky and oh, so sexy

  Wordlessly, he took her hand as they walked. This was a mistake, his mind warned. His body didn’t seem to care, reacting to just the scent of her on his clothes. They hardly spoke as they reached the hotel and climbed the stairs, his eyes on her well-rounded backside as she led the way.

  His rational mind warred with his emotions. Sam was still withdrawing from the drugs. Her mood swings were to be expected. But what was his excuse for being so damn irrational? Lust. That was all it was. All it could be.

  His passion had cooled only slightly by the time they got back to the room. But Jake had forgotten something. As soon as he fit the key in the door and opened it for her, he remembered. Fletcher. The dog shook himself awake, his tail thumping on the floor as he greeted them with a long howl. The sensual spell was broken with one slurp from the excited mutt.

  “Sorry, big guy. Didn’t mean to forget you.” He gave Sam an apologetic shrug. “I have to take him for a walk and get his dog food out of the van.”

  Sam avoided his gaze. “That’s all right. I’m getting a little sleepy. I think I’ll just get ready for bed.” She turned her back on him and started rummaging through her bag.

  “I’ll be back in a little while.” Jake closed the door behind him and cursed his rotten luck.

  Fletcher let out a low woof of agreement and pulled him downstairs and out to the street.

  Chapter 11

  Sam didn’t want to take the dress off. She liked the way the soft fabric glided across her skin like silk. And she liked the way she looked in it—feminine and almost sexy. Most of all, she liked the way Jake had looked at her. She sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, wondering just what would have happened if Fletcher hadn’t been there. If her feelings hadn’t been in such a turmoil, she would have laughed.

  One thing was for sure, she wanted Jake like she’d never wanted any other man. And it scared her. They hardly knew each other and yet she could imagine making love with him. She shivered. She knew what he meant about active imaginations.

  The door swung open with a noisy bang and Fletcher bounded into the room. She started, not realizing how long she’d been sitting there. Jake followed, his expression unfathomable in the dim gloom. He set the box he was carrying on the floor, fishing out a large bowl and a bag of crunchy dog food.

  “C’mon, Fletcher. I thought you were hungry,” he said to the dog who was sniffing Sam’s legs.

  It irked Sam that after the hot and heavy kiss they’d shared, Jake could just pretend that she wasn’t even there. Fletcher abandoned Sam in favor of the dog bowl, chewing noisily. She glanced up at Jake, who stood leaning casually against the wall, watching her with an intense gaze.

  “What?” she asked, unnerved by his steady appraisal.

  His eyebrows shot up and he shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Fine” Sam stood with a determination she didn’t feel. She grabbed the shut she in
tended to sleep in from the end of the bed, keeping her gaze safely averted. If she looked at him she’d fall apart.

  He held out a shopping bag. “Here. I meant to give this to you earlier. It’s some clothes for tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  When she didn’t take the bag from him, he put it on the dresser. “You okay?”

  She ignored his question and the intensity in his voice. “I’m going to change and go to bed.” It was later than she’d realized; too late to be playing games with Jake.

  “Wait,” he said, his voice low and husky, but nonetheless compelling.

  “What?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  They stood a room’s length apart, separated by a large, hungry dog, but Sam felt his eyes on her like a caress. “Thanks for the dress. And for tonight.”

  “It’s not over, Sam.”

  She didn’t ask what he meant. She didn’t need to. The burning in his eyes answered her questions as he sidestepped Fletcher and crossed the room. He stood in front of her, hands at his sides. His well-formed lips compressed into a thin line as he contemplated her.

  “It’s not over,” he repeated, his voice rough with emotion.

  His arms came up and around her. She could feel the heat of him, radiating through the thin material of her dress and warming her skin to a feverish pitch. She shivered as he ran his hands down her shoulders, pulling her hips against him. She stared into his face, not ready to give in to the emotions that flooded her senses.

  “What is this, Jake? What are we doing?”

  “Let me show you.”

  His lips came down on hers, warm and demanding, as he picked up where they had left off on the street. He kissed her until she went weak in the knees, unable to think of anything except this man. He trailed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, bringing a whimper to her throat as she shivered with delicious anticipation.

  His hands roamed her back, sliding effortlessly over the silken material, scorching her skin beneath. He cupped her bottom in his hands, pulling her up against his hardened shaft. She moaned aloud then, wanting what he offered, needing what only he could give her.