Protecting His Witness
Page 12She didn’t function well without caffeine, something he knew. Stretching her arms over her head, she savored the delicious soreness spreading through her body. After their first time last night, Vincent hadn’t been even close to done. The man had been almost savage in how much he’d wanted her.
He’d taken everything she had and she’d given it freely. Being with him again had been a stark reminder to her body what she’d been missing all these years. The idea of giving it up, of giving him up—no way.
After taking a long, hot shower and brushing her teeth, she changed into one of her bikinis and threw on a light summer dress that tied around her neck. She had no idea what their plans were for the day but she hoped it included sun, sand and a whole lot of sex.
She’d forgo the first two for the sex though, hands down.
When she found Vincent in the kitchen cooking—shirtless—her breath caught in her throat. With his back to her and all the natural light flooding the room, his body was illuminated like the warrior god he might as well be. All those taut, perfect lines made her mouth water. As her gaze tracked his body, she was instantly drawn to his scars. They were faint, but she knew what they were. Some were from knife wounds. Another webbed section of skin at the top of his shoulder she was pretty certain was a bullet wound. But he’d never confirmed it when she’d asked him. He’d just said that he couldn’t talk about it. That by itself had been a confirmation of sorts.
That body. Pre-coffee, it was too much to even focus on. “You better put a shirt on unless you want to get jumped,” she murmured as she stepped into the room. The cool tile felt good against her bare feet.
He half-turned from where he stood at the stove cooking something that smelled delicious and his lazy, predatory grin stole the rest of her breath. “Jump away.”
She watched him for a long moment, her heart beating wildly and the dampness between her thighs already growing because of a single, heated look. Shaking her head, she smiled at him. “I will—after you feed me and I get coffee. You tired me out last night.” She felt a blush creeping across her cheeks at the admission. It was the best kind of exhaustion, but still, she needed sustenance.
Of course his grin just grew in that totally smug male way as he turned back to the stove. “We’re not even close to done, baby.”
She certainly hoped not. “So…what’s on the agenda for today? Are you able to stay in Key West for a little while?” she asked as she snagged a coffee mug, hoping her question sounded casual when it was anything but. They hadn’t talked much last night and she wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them now.
“I’ve built up a lot of vacation days and I’ve already let my boss know I’ll be taking time off for a while.”
A while, what did that mean? She wanted to push but felt weird doing so. Years ago she’d been comfortable asking him anything, but right now things were still unsettled between them. At least that’s how she felt. But she could focus on the positive. He was staying in town, which meant they got to spend more time together. “Want to be geeky tourists today? Head down to one of the beaches, then hit up the shops on Duval?” He’d probably hate the shopping part, but she threw it in there anyway.
Jordan sat at one of the high top chairs at the counter with her coffee. “Sounds fun, but let’s do both. Parasailing, then jet skiing.” She was ready to have fun and stop feeling like she had to look over her shoulder all the time.
“Works for me, but first you’re eating. Then…” he trailed off as he pulled two plates down from one of the cabinets.
She knew exactly what would happen after they ate and she wasn’t complaining. “You’re part machine, I swear.”
He snorted as he started piling bacon and scrambled eggs onto their plates. “Now that I’ve got you under the same roof, I’m taking advantage.”
Her toes curled at the almost ragged way he said that. Before she could respond, he continued. “Want any toast?”
She shook her head as she watched him move around the kitchen. A man cooking was just plain sexy all by itself, but Vincent cooking—shirtless—yeah, she was going to have a freaking heart attack. All her coffee had done was wake her up and now she was even more aware of the deliciousness that was Vincent.
As he slid a plate piled with way too much food in front of her, he took his own seat and gave her a look she couldn’t quite define. It was almost assessing. “This looks amazing, thanks for cooking—and for making coffee.”
He half-smiled and her heart rate jumped up a notch. “I remember what a monster you are without caffeine.”
It was true, so she ignored the statement as she took a bite of bacon. Sweet heaven. Awesome sex and great food. She could get used to this, even if she was afraid to.
“How long do you plan to stay down here? And what do you plan to do now that you’re not in hiding anymore?” Vincent’s softly asked questions were like bombs going off in the quiet room.
Jordan turned to look at him again and found that same assessing expression on his face. She had no clue what she was going to do—but she did know she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. “I don’t know. This summer I’m hoping to figure out where I want to live and work and all that fun stuff. I’ve got some money saved and I’m basically staying here for free so…” She shrugged.
The way he was watching her was almost unnerving. She hated that he’d gone from sensual, teasing Vincent to being unreadable. He didn’t look angry or anything, but it still jarred her. “Yes. I love it.” And there wasn’t anything else she’d ever had a drive to do. When she’d been in college getting her degree, she’d thought she wanted to teach younger kids but after her time in New Mexico she realized high school was the right age range for her.
“There are plenty of teaching jobs in Miami,” he said casually before turning all his attention to his plate.
She blinked at him, unsure how to respond. He didn’t seem to expect one though as he practically inhaled his food, so she followed suit and started eating even though butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach at his statement.
Vincent was basically implying exactly what she’d hoped for in the deepest part of her heart, but hadn’t been willing to admit even to herself. It sounded like he wanted her in Miami. That was good, right? It had to be. Still, it was a huge decision.
“Food not good?” Vincent’s soft voice cut through her thoughts and she realized she was just pushing the southwestern style eggs around her plate.
“No, it’s great. I’m just thinking.” Something she didn’t really want to do. Making so many decisions about the future made her head hurt.
“About what?” Now the sensual tone was back and it sent a shiver of awareness curling through her. He’d turned in his chair, swiveling toward her and giving her the full view of that magnificent chest. Sweet Lord, the man was trying to drive her insane.
Food forgotten, she set her fork down and slid off her chair, covering the distance between them in seconds. She could see the faint surprise in his gaze the moment before their lips touched, but it was gone before lust took over.
Grabbing onto his shoulders, she moaned into his mouth as he dragged her between his spread thighs. His hands moved with ridiculous ease as he expertly untied her halter dress and bathing suit top. As both pieces fell down around her body, baring her breasts, he cupped them in a possessive gesture that made her melt.
Arching her back, she pushed into his grip, savoring the feel of his big hands—then a low rumble seemed to almost shake the building. Like a sonic boom or something.
They both pulled back at the same time, but Vincent was tense, his expression hard. “Stay here,” he ordered.
“I don’t know, but stay put.” His expression was still stony as he hurried to the sliding glass doors. His movements were cautious as he stepped outside, scanning the pool area down below.
When he came back inside, he shut the drapes and started for the hallway. Panic started to hum through her at his tenseness. What the hell was he worried about? Following him, she knew he was aware of her in the hallway because he let out an annoyed growl.
At the front door, he didn’t turn around, but muttered a “stay here,” before he eased the door open. Weapon drawn, he moved outside with a liquid grace, leaving the door only half open.
Quietly, she moved up behind him, but paused when his entire body went rigid and he let out a guttural curse. A raw, almost burning scent teased her nose. Since she couldn’t see anything, she ducked down and peered around his body.
And froze.
In the parking lot below them, dark smoke billowed high into the air above a burning car. Her car. Thick orange flames danced along the underbelly and the windows had all been blown out, leaving hideous gaping holes. The stench of burning rubber filled the air, making her feel nauseous. She felt glued to the spot as she stared at the carnage and tried to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.
“My car…”
“Someone blew it up,” he said, matter of fact as he propelled her back inside.
For a moment she started to struggle, but he put firm hands on her shoulders and pressed her against the hallway wall. “Jordan, someone blew up your car. I’m not letting you outside. For all we know that was a setup to draw you out. I doubt it, but I’m not taking any chances. We’re calling the cops—though I’m sure they’ve already been alerted—and I’m getting you the hell out of here. And I want to talk to your fucking handler because this kind of attack is personal and it was aimed at you. If there’s something they didn’t tell you, we’re going to find out today.” He was practically shaking as he spoke, the anger emanating off him potent and dangerous.