Yours for the Night (10 page)

She didn’t resist, either, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him closer. Of all the things he enjoyed about Tiffany, it was how she let herself go, especially in this way.

She tasted spicy, like the wine and the food. And suddenly, he was a lot less interested in talking about anything, only deepening the kiss and tightening his arms as she melted into him.

“Garrett, why are you doing this?” she asked breathlessly as she broke the kiss, placing her hands on his chest between them.

“Because I like being with you. I want you. I think you want me, too. Isn’t that reason enough?”

She looked past him toward the bay, as if fighting with herself, not knowing the answer.

“Nothing can come of this,” she said, and he knew she was losing that fight.

“Let’s not worry about what’s coming. Let’s just enjoy tonight,” he said coaxingly, tipping her chin up so that their eyes met.

“Okay,” she said with a slight shake of her head, though she was smiling.

“Okay,” he said back, taking her hand as they strolled down the romantically lit streets back to his hotel.

* * *

T
IFFANY
HAD
ARGUED
with herself all the way back to the hotel, listing all of the reasons why this was a bad idea.

One fact trumped all of the common sense in the world: she wanted Garrett. Wanted more time with him, wanted to be with him, wanted to know as much as she could about him. She’d made plenty of bad decisions in her life, but she couldn’t for the life of her convince herself that he was one of them. Even if what they had was temporary, it was good.

When they were in the room, she stood by the window taking in the night views of the city. Her life felt like a fantasy. For the moment, everything else fell away.

She didn’t hear him come up behind her, his arms coming around her waist to splay over her middle. The heat from his touch burned through the light material of her blouse, and she was glad she’d put on some of her sexier lingerie that morning.

“You’re like a cat,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t even hear you move.”

“You seemed deep in thought,” he whispered in her ear, pressing against her but leaving his hands where they were. Her breasts already felt sensitive and heavy, wanting his touch.

All she had to do was ask, or take his hands in hers and show him what she wanted. But the anticipation, drawing out this indulgence was sweet, too.

Dropping her head back to his chest, she angled to look up toward him, but before she said a word, his mouth captured hers in a long, soft kiss. Linking her arm up around his neck, she deepened it, whispering against his mouth that she wanted more. Much more.

He pulled the material of her blouse from the waist of her skirt, undoing the buttons so slowly that she almost couldn’t stand it. When his palms finally covered her aching flesh and encountered the lacy material she wore, he stopped.

“What’s this?” he whispered against her lips.

“Want me to show you?”

He nodded, and she looked out at the darkening skyline. “Shut the lights, or dim them, would you?” she asked. She wanted her show to be for Garrett, not for the entire city.

“Sure,” he agreed, and dimmed them low enough that she felt more secure letting the blouse slip from her shoulders. She still didn’t face him, but watched him in the reflection of the darkened window.

“Turn around,” he said softly.

She did, and saw him unbuttoning his own shirt, exposing an expanse of taut, muscular torso that made her mouth dry.

She met his gaze as she released the clasp at the front of the bra. It fell from her shoulders and to the floor in a silky puddle. He took off his belt.

She took her time sliding the zipper on the side of her skirt down, in concert with him unzipping his slacks. She shimmied out of hers as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his.

He was already hard, visible through the close fit of the black boxer briefs he wore.

Feeling even more daring, she turned back to face the window. They were high up, facing away from the main street, with the lights dimmed. She supposed someone could see, if they were looking, but she was willing to risk it for the thrill that raced through her at the possible exposure.

Sliding her thumbs under the lacy edge of her panties, she eased them down, making sure Garrett received a nice show as she bent and pulled them away from her ankle, tossing them back toward him. She was rewarded with an audible groan.

Planting her hands on the window, she stared down at the busy street and bent slightly, looking back at him over her shoulder.

“I think I’ll leave the heels on,” she said with a naughty wink.

His boxers were removed quickly as he joined her, hot and hard behind her, his hands sliding up over her thighs, covering her butt and then drifting up her spine before he reached around to cover her breasts. As he played and tweaked her already hard nipples, she groaned, too.

“Now, Garrett. Right here,” she said, her voice quavering. She kept looking down, letting the height and the sparkling lights of the city swim before her eyes as he nudged her thighs farther apart with his own. He thrust forward, hard and deep, making her gasp at the sudden sensation of being so quickly and completely filled.

Leaning in, he planted his hands over hers flat on the glass of the window, winding their fingers together as he kissed her shoulder, nuzzled her neck. She turned her face to reach his kiss as he started to move. Bracing herself against his thrusts, she broke the kiss as her head fell forward, her breath bursting in short, hot bursts.

“Yes, more,” she commanded, hardly recognizing the throaty, sexual tone of her own voice as she widened her stance for him.

His fingers tightened on hers as he pumped harder into her, their bodies finding a furious rhythm together as her fingers grasped his. Everything inside of her tightened, the pressure unbearable until it all spilled over, her release flooding her body on waves of orgasm that left her shaking. Garrett picked up the pace, his arm looping around her waist to hold her there as he rode her even harder.

“Again, sweetheart, go over with me,” he panted against her ear before nipping at the base of her neck and planting hot kisses along the tender skin beneath her ear.

She wouldn’t have thought she was able, but his words and the delicious friction of his cock, which became harder and fuller as he approached his own breaking point, pushed her over again, even more intensely than the first time. The soaking pleasure of it nearly doubled her over his arm as he groaned through his own climax. She was limp from the waves of pleasure that weakened her until he brought her back up against him, into his arms.

He was shaking. She could feel it, and it amazed her. How much he gave, and how much he took; she’d never experienced anything like this with any man. It made her glad she had decided to go for it, and a little worried it would never happen again.

He swept her up into his arms, making her laugh weakly, though she didn’t mind at all as he carried her over to the large sofa where he pulled her down on top of him. She sighed as his arms closed around her.

“You’re going to kill me, Tiff,” he said affectionately, his hand stroking her hair, the other placed loosely on her bare bottom.

“Same here,” she said with a tired smile. “But what a way to go.”

“I’m glad you came back with me,” he said against her hair.

“Me, too.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes, letting the quiet after the storm wash over them, and Garrett stroked her hair in a way that made her never want to get off this couch, ever.

“You said something earlier, about having had some professional problems, but you also mentioned some personal ones. What did you mean?” he asked.

Tiffany opened her eyes, the semi-drugged, sex-saturated coma she’d been slipping into clearing fast. Pushing up, she folded her hands under her chin on his chest, looking into his handsome face. Would he think less of her if she told him?

She didn’t want to risk it, but Garrett had been so open with her about his own past, she didn’t feel right shutting the door on his question.

Tiffany related to him the various problems she’d had recently, including being ripped off by her former boyfriend, Brice.

“He stole from you? And the police wouldn’t do anything about it?” Garrett repeated, pushing up to a sitting position and taking her with him. His expression was serious now, and his eyes held a little bit of an edge that made him look dangerous.

A shiver of arousal traveled down her spine. Garrett was a nice man—a caring man—but he could be dangerous. When protecting someone he loved, or even someone he was hired to protect, she had no doubt he could do whatever the job required.

“My sisters seemed to pick up from the start that Brice was trouble, but I didn’t listen. I jump in and get involved, and then it always comes back and bites me in the ass.”

“Maybe because you have a very delectable ass,” Garrett said, his hand running over her knee and thigh, stroking lightly. “But it’s not your fault you met a loser. It happens to everyone at some point, and you learned from the experience. That’s the best you can hope for,” he said. Then his lovely mouth turned down for a second. “I only wish I’d known you then. I wouldn’t have gone as easy on him as the police did,” he said in a tone that nearly made her jump him on the spot.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely as she faced him, sitting cross-legged in a style that provided him a very interesting view. He noticed, his eyes darkening with renewed interest. “But seriously, I’m really trying to make some better decisions. More responsible decisions, fewer impulsive ones,” she said, catching her breath as his fingers drifted closer to the crux of her thighs.

“Really? What category do I fall into?” he asked as his hand slipped down in between and stroked her already slick flesh, making her whimper in response.

“Impulsive,” she managed on a short breath as he stroked and explored. “But in the very, very good way,” she added.

He laughed, sliding a finger, then two, inside as he rubbed his thumb against her swollen clit. She started to untangle her legs, to stretch out, but he stopped her.

“No, like this. Don’t move…I want to watch you come,” he said huskily.

He didn’t have long to wait as she flooded into his hand seconds later, her fingers digging into his arm as she rocked against his fingers, crying out his name.

“I don’t think I can get enough of that,” he murmured, easing her back against the cushions as he slid his hands down under her beautiful ass and buried himself inside of her.

She framed his face with her hands, watching him, too. Wanting to see. He didn’t make her wait long, either, coming after a few hard pumps against her, collapsing back over her with a heavy sigh of satisfaction.

She missed him when he withdrew, and that worried her. Could she ever get enough of Garrett? Probably not.

But whatever they could have right now was going to have to be enough.

7

G
ARRETT
KNEW
PRECISELY
when Tiffany had slipped from his arms early that morning, covertly watching her grab her notebooks from her bag and head to the front room.

She didn’t get dressed; wasn’t leaving. He relaxed back into the mattress, exhausted but more invigorated than he had been in years.

They’d made love in every way they could for most of the night, as if unable to stop touching, stop tasting, in case this was all they’d have. But the more they had, the more they seemed to want.

For him, anyway.

He was adult enough to know he was getting in deep. This was different, and it was powerful. There hadn’t been a woman in six years that he hadn’t been able to walk away from, until now.

At the same time, he knew it couldn’t work. He wasn’t about to uproot Berringer Bodyguards and move to the west coast. More than that, Tiffany’s new revelation about her dream job disturbed him. Not just because she was new to it, or because she might be getting in over her head.

Garrett knew he couldn’t go through again what he went through with Lainey. He had underestimated the dangers associated with his late wife’s work, and he was clear on the dangers associated with being a private investigator. She’d told him that she was taking self-defense, learning to shoot—required skills for an investigator, but that was for good reason. Tiffany would always be walking into dangerous situations—an idea that didn’t seem to put her off one bit.

But it did put Garrett off. Not enough to walk away right now, but as much as he liked her, wanted her, he couldn’t face a future with another woman who worked in a job that could take her away from him.

It was a blatant contradiction, he knew, given his own line of work, but he couldn’t help how he felt. For him, for his brothers, putting themselves between a bullet and a client was their way of life; he knew the score. But Tiffany was different. He couldn’t help but think she was still not quite in touch with the gritty reality of real investigative work, much of which was tedious as well as dangerous. It was often nothing like what she read in her mystery novels, but it clearly excited her.

Her zest for life and her spontaneity were addictive. He hated that she saw her impulsive nature as a negative, or thought that that she had to hide it from anyone, especially her family, or that she had to change. He wouldn’t ask her to change, even if it meant they couldn’t pursue anything beyond what they had right now.

He didn’t love Tiffany. But he could. Maybe.

So he would just make sure that didn’t happen.

Feeling he had the issue settled in his mind, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, about to call for room service to order breakfast for them both when his cell phone rang.

Picking it up, he saw Daniel’s name showing, his museum contact in London.

“Daniel, how the heck are you?” Garrett answered heartily. He and Dan had become friends over the years of doing museum business.

“Getting better-looking every day, I’ll tell ya. I practically have to fight the women off,” Dan answered in the normally cheerful, heavy English accent that Garrett would often imitate in fun.

James Bond, Dan was not. The pale, lanky, tall Brit whose suits were often too loose and who usually was pasted to his BlackBerry was probably telling the absolute truth, however. Women loved him. When he and Garrett hit the pubs, Dan never went home alone.

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

“I could give you some pointers, if you’d like,” Dan teased.

“I’m good, thanks,” Garrett said dryly, looking at the tangled sheets he’d just crawled out of. “More than good, in fact,” he added, not realizing he’d said it out loud.

“Oh! That sounds like a tale to be told. You’ve met someone, and have called to share all of the dirty details?” Daniel said, laughing.

“No, actually, I called to get your perspective on a ring of jewel thefts we’ve had here in the U.S.,” Garrett said, turning more serious as he explained the situation to his friend.

“This is exciting. A good, old-fashioned jewel theft rather than the coarse snatch-and-grabs or violent robberies we see too often these days,” Daniel said with relish.

“Well, it’s not too exciting for the stores that were robbed. These aren’t major stores we’re talking about. They’re all small, family businesses, and they could end up in serious financial jeopardy if the insurance won’t pay out,” Garrett said.

“Ah, that is a damned shame,” Daniel said on a sigh. “Can you give me a list of what was taken, from whom it was acquired and where it was going, that kind of thing? I can do some poking around. Not my usual area, gems and things of that sort,” he said with a note of caution.

“Except that these are items that could interest collectors, I think, and I know you know people who might have more information,” Garrett pushed a bit.

“That I do. Send me the complete list, and I’ll get back to you in a day or two?”

“The sooner the better. And thanks, Daniel. I owe you dinner when I see you next,” Garrett said.

“At least that,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I’m glad to do it, and especially if it’s going to help this new woman who has you sounding more cheery. Will be in touch,” Daniel said, and hung up, leaving Garrett looking at the phone.

He hadn’t said a word about knowing Tiffany, or that her store had been robbed. But that was why he’d called Daniel—he was scary perceptive, and very good at his job. The people he knew, particularly in London’s underground, or at Interpol, might dig up something interesting, as jewel thefts on this level were often international in scope. As Daniel mentioned, most were crude hold-ups, street criminals or drug addicts looking to score. This was a whole other class altogether, which comforted Garrett to some extent in terms of Tiffany’s involvement.

Chances were, she wouldn’t turn up much, but he’d keep looking to see what he could find on his end.

Ordering breakfast and taking a quick shower, he walked out to the main room to find her curled up on the couch in one of the suite’s white terry robes, hunkered over her notes and her phone.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Garrett said, leaning down to take her lips in a light morning kiss that deepened quickly until she pulled away as her notes nearly fell from her lap to the floor and she lurched to save them.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, smiling up at him with bright energy. He wanted to get rid of the notebooks and the robe, and say good morning properly, but breakfast would be delivered soon, so he simply sat down on the sofa across from her.

“You rolled out of bed early.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you. But I had so much stuff from the interviews rolling around in my head, and I wanted to get up and start going over things, and do some brainstorming.”

“Brainstorming?”

“Yes, it’s one of the techniques I learned in the online class. We take all of the things we know, the facts, around particular aspects of the case, and you jot them down and then try to write down whatever each one makes you think about.... It helps open up ideas or connections you might not see otherwise.”

Garrett nodded. “And did you find anything interesting?”

“Nothing I hadn’t already thought of. All of the stores had different items stolen, though all very high-end pieces that few people knew were there. All are small, family businesses who can’t afford the loss, and all look like inside jobs. There’s no commonality among the vaults or the security systems, nor the time of installation.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah. I thought that maybe the stores had been bugged? So the thieves could have overheard people discussing the security, but that doesn’t apply in our case. My father changes the vault combination daily, and he never says it out loud. He always writes it down in a journal he keeps at our house, not on the store premises. The only commonality is that all of the stores had either taken out recent loans or are paying off some sort of improvements, like my father buying the new vault, but all of the loans come from different lending institutions,” she added. “Still, the debt puts them in precarious financial circumstances. That’s one common problem, but it doesn’t really point to anything in terms of who the thieves are.”

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Garrett rose to answer it, letting in two waiters rolling trays full of various breakfast foods. He was starving after the evening’s activity, and he assumed Tiffany would be hungry as well.

He kept to himself that he was secretly somewhat relieved that she wasn’t finding much so far in her investigation. This was heavy-duty stuff for a fledgling investigator.

“Come on, eat. I ordered enough food for six,” he said, cajoling, and she got up from the sofa to join him with a grin.

“I’m pretty hungry, thanks,” she said. “If we were at my place, I could have made you breakfast.”

Garrett grabbed a plate and piled on some pancakes, offering Tiffany some as well as some fruit and bacon.

“I’d like that,” he said and saw her pause as she reached for some butter before covering her pancakes in syrup.

“Yeah, I would, too,” she said tentatively before moving to sit at the small table by the window.

He joined her, and they ate in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the view of the city in the soft morning light. A bit of fog hung over the tops of the buildings, but the sun was evident beyond it.

“I can’t think of anything better than to spend more time with you, Tiffany. No strings. I have to go back to Philly in a few weeks, and you have your commitments. But we could enjoy what we’ve got now, and I could help you with your investigation, or at least provide some back-up,” he said.

“Garrett, I don’t know,” she started, but he didn’t intend to let her get far in her protests.

“Did I hinder your interviews at all yesterday?”

“No, you didn’t. I didn’t even see you. At the third stop, I thought maybe you had given up and gone back to the city.”

He smiled. “I was there. I was even inside the store for a while when you were talking to the manager.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You did not. I didn’t see you at all.”

He shrugged. “I’m good at what I do. I can be as visible or as invisible as you want me to be.”

“I should do this on my own. You’ve helped enough. How can I ever know if I can cut it if I’m always depending on someone else?”

“You are doing it on your own. I’m just the muscle,” he said with a smile, biting into a ripe piece of cantaloupe. “You’re the brains of the operation,
sweethot,
and you got some nice gams, too,” he teased in a noir detective tone that made her laugh.

“Thanks, but you know what I mean.”

“I do. And you know what, a lot of investigators will work with someone else, a partner, hired security, depending on the job. Police even depend on backup, Tiff. It’s not a weakness. It’s being smart and careful.”

“What will I tell my parents? They’re home tomorrow, and the store will be open again, and how do I explain you?”

Garrett laughed. “Tell them I’m your vacation fling,” he said.

“Yeah, that will inspire faith in them that I’m a responsible adult,” she responded, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a completely responsible adult, making decisions in your own life, and one way or another, they have to respect that—whether it’s about the men you sleep with or the work you choose, whether they agree or not. You should just be up-front with them.”

“I know. I just feel so…lacking, compared to my siblings. I’d like to have a success under my belt before I tell them what I’ve been doing.”

Garrett leaned across the table. “You aren’t lacking anything, Tiffany, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Her cheeks bloomed with pleasure at his words, and she smiled at him. “You’re great for my ego, you know.”

“Good.”

Having polished off her food, she took her coffee and went back to the sofa, grabbing her notes.

“There has to be something here I’m missing, some lead to follow.”

Garrett watched her brow furrow in concentration, and enjoyed seeing her so sucked into her work. He finished his breakfast, letting her concentrate as she sketched out more little bubbles and lines between her ideas in the notebook.

“Wait…wait a minute,” she said, more to herself than to him, and looked up. “Can I use your laptop for a second?”

“Sure.” He grabbed it for her, and watched her peck at the keys quickly and surely until she was bouncing with excitement.

“Are you afraid of heights, Garrett?”

He gave her a quizzical look. “Nope. Why?”

She popped up from the chair, her eyes glowing with excitement. “I think I might have just found a possible lead. We’re going to have to get up on some rooftops, though, to see for sure.”

“Rooftops?”

“Yes. Don’t you see? All of the doors were left open at the stores that were robbed, and that set off the security alarms, but too late. But we only assumed they had come in that way. I just remembered a mystery I read where a killer was finding access into apartment buildings through the roof. And a website I remembered gave stats for several high-value jewelry thefts that were accomplished when thieves accessed the properties from the roof using the buildings’ ventilation systems to access the apartments. No doors were ever opened, but the vents were easily opened and closed, so no one thought of them right away. Sound familiar?” she asked excitedly.

Garrett stared in surprise. She really had tripped on to something. A possibility, at least.

“The site said that sometimes security wasn’t triggered by rooftop entry. Doors and windows were wired for intrusion, but not ceilings or walls. There were cases where the thieves were still in the building, or on the roof, even as the police arrived and the thieves still got away.”

“No one checked the roof?”

“No one asked about it. No one thought about them coming in from the top.”

Garrett picked up on her excitement, and felt the buzz of a possible lead with her new idea. “We should tell the police, let them check it out.”

“I want to do that first, at least at our store, and talk to my father and the other store owners about the security system. I never asked them about their roofs. I don’t want to give Detective Ramsey useless information,” she said, humming with so much excitement she was almost bouncing in place.