Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry (13 page)

If Mario showed up and she wasn't in her room, he would think she got skittish and disappeared on him. Angela wasn't sure whether that would benefit her case or not.

The bookstore wasn't exactly what she expected. It was very large, with high ceilings and lots of shelves of books, DVDs, and videotapes. But it was an adult bookstore. Angela felt the eyes on her the moment she entered the establishment. Her guard went up immediately and she fingered the outside of her purse, feeling the hardness of her gun.

Rows of bookshelves crisscrossed one another, offering a fair amount of privacy for anyone wishing to browse. Angela walked past a couple men, both of whom failed miserably at being subtle when they gave her a curious once-over. She appeared to be the only woman in the store.

Her heart lodged in her throat for a moment when she spotted Jake, sprawled out on a love seat in the corner of the building. He was at the end of the aisle, his long legs sticking out, which would make it impossible to go past him without stepping over them. The love seat was barely noticeable under his massive frame. He leaned against one corner of the seat with his legs crossed at the other end. One arm was draped lazily over the back of the seat while he held a paperback in his other hand.

At first he didn't appear to notice her. He seemed rather involved with the story he was reading. Angela moved closer to him, looking for the first time at the books on the shelves. Some of their titles were rather alarming. She noticed a label above the books she glanced at--
Domination/Submission.

As she edged closer to the end of the aisle, it became harder to pay attention to the books. She pulled one out for a good show but was barely aware of the book. So much man sat within feet of her. Her body tingled, memories of him kissing her in his hotel room ransacking her brain. Suddenly it was too warm in the store. Her heart picked up a unique beat, pattering in her chest while her palms grew damp. The air was charged with sexual energy that had nothing to do with the amount of pornographic material surrounding her.

"Do you like the BDSM novels?" Jake asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nonetheless, Angela almost jumped when he spoke. She shot him a scathing look. His shaggy brown hair bordered his masculine face, and intense green eyes danced with amusement as he stared at her over his paperback.

"Personally I lean more toward the threesomes," she told him, glancing at a title of a book in front of her at eye level. "Ever consider you and a good buddy of yours submitting to a woman and doing whatever she says?" When Jake's eyes sparked, his arousal apparent, Angela added for good measure, "Even doing each other while she watched?"

"Nope!" His aroused stare turned darker when he narrowed his gaze on her. "I don't mind a buddy joining me while a lady submits to my every command, though," he growled, the deepness of his voice causing the charged air to snap against Angela's flesh.

The corner of his mouth twitched and those damnable eyes of his were undressing her as she stood there. She'd give him two seconds to let her know why he brought her in here before she marched out of the store.

"You might find books more to your liking around the corner here." Jake pulled his legs in the best he could, implying she should come closer. He nodded to the other side of the shelf where she stood.

Angela started around the bookshelf. She hesitated when he moved his legs again. The brute would not trap her in the far corner. She could only imagine what type of peculiar fantasies might have been played out on that couch. Unfortunately, imagining what could be done in this semi-private public bookstore only made her blood pressure rise more.

If he were to trap her, she wouldn't be able to get away. The love seat barely held him, and if he pulled her down on top of him all of that brawn would touch her everywhere. She imagined no one stopping him or even watching while he held her captive, her body pressed against his ...

Angela tripped over her own feet working her way around him and slapped her hand on his shoulder to brace herself. "Shit," she hissed.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" Now he was grinning.

She was sure she growled. Even as she snatched her hand away, her fingers touched him long enough to crave all of that solid muscle even more.

"Go to hell," she whispered, finally making her way around the corner and finding herself blocked by two bookshelves. No one could see her except Jake.

"What have you learned?" he asked, his tone changing and sounding all business as he once again relaxed on the small sofa.

She studied his profile for a second as he raised the book, appearing to continue his reading. Angela sighed, her brain caught in a thick fog of lust. There couldn't possibly be a more infuriating man anywhere on this planet. Jake managed to unnerve her, create incredibly kinky images in her brain, and seemed more relaxed now than he had when she first spotted him.

It occurred to her no one could get to her now without passing Jake. He was her backup, her protector. And he was doing his job. Angela was safe in the store, and he was waiting for information. All was fine in the world of Jake King.

Damn him!

She stared at the books in front of her but forced her mind to matters at hand. "I've actually learned a lot," she began, choosing another book at random and flipping it open to an incredibly graphic sexual scene that immediately planted images in her mind. Except the characters were her and Jake. Angela pulled her gaze from the book. Like she would ever submit to being tied to a bed. She swallowed thickly. "The game has a board, like a real board game. It's on Mario's computer in his bedroom. He has ten people abducted because each player is only allowed ten pieces on the board." She whispered, speaking quickly, realizing she'd been dying to share what she'd learned.

"Damn." He breathed, not looking at her but focusing on his book. "Did you see the board game?"

"No, but there was an incident tonight," she continued. "I left his place upset and took a cab back to the hotel."

"I know." Jake didn't elaborate. "What was the incident?"

Sometime soon they would discuss exactly how he was staying out of sight. "A man was murdered," she whispered.

Angela swore Jake's knuckles grew whiter as he gripped the book.

"Mario killed one of his hired help. I managed to plant my bugs at his home, before it happened, and I slipped out of there during all the chaos," she continued, her heart slowly resuming its steady beat. Angela glanced in the opposite direction of Jake, then peered into the bookshelf, confirming there was wood behind the books and no one could stand anywhere on another aisle and see or hear her. "I left two bugs at his home and picked up new intel once I arrived at the hotel." Angela repeated the conversation she'd heard between the two men who'd been on Mario's patio. "I also learned Mario is coming after me. He might be at the Drake right now. I am going to take advantage of him searching for me and return to his home. While he's gone I'll wait for him in his bedroom. Hopefully that will give me enough time to search his computer."

"His computer will be password protected," Jake guessed, although he spoke as if it was knowledge he already knew.

Angela had thought of that but also remembered how confident Marco had sounded when he offered to show Bobby the board for the game. "I'm not sure that it is," she said slowly. "The hired help I met didn't appear smart enough to figure out someone's password. And if I have enough time, I can put a tracking program on his computer."

"How are you getting back over there?"

"I'll take a cab."

"What are you going to do when he returns?"

Jake glanced in her direction for the first time since their conversation began. She met his gaze and prayed he didn't see how wary she was of being alone with Mario in his bedroom. "I'm going to talk to him, ask how the older man is doing that I saw murdered, and make sure Mario believes I didn't witness a crime."

Jake didn't take his gaze from hers. Once again heat rushed over her, pooling between her legs. Angela couldn't look away. As much as she believed in her heart that Jake would provide the protection he swore to her that he would, she also knew that she was going to make a liar out of herself. Sometime soon, she would do more than just kiss Jake King. The longer she stared at him, the sooner she hoped it would be.

Chapter Seven

Jake didn't remain in his hotel room this time when Angela left to return to Mandela's home. He returned to the rental car he'd picked up earlier that evening and slid behind the steering wheel, closing and locking the car doors before turning on the engine. He opened the glove box and pulled out the tracking monitor that told him where Angela was--as long as the small, round pad remained on the back of her spine, just below the waistband of her shorts. Hopefully it wouldn't be detected. This way he could keep an eye on her from a fair distance without anyone thinking she was being followed. Hopefully Angela wouldn't let Mario get his paws all over her. The bug would stick to her like a good Band Aid and not come off, even in a shower, unless she seriously scrubbed her lower back. Most people didn't. They rubbed soap on their arms, shoulders, maybe the back of their neck, then let the water rinse it down the rest of their body.

His feelings about Angela should bug him more than they did. Jake damn near saw red just thinking about her being in that monster's arms. She didn't strike him as the type of woman who would sleep with the enemy. Jake could see in her eyes how badly she wanted to end the game, though. It made him want to stick to her side like glue until all of this was over.

Jake wanted to be at her side for other reasons, too. Especially after hot, mind-blowing sex.

He picked up on Angela's wariness, though, the moment she entered the bookstore. The way Angela looked at him after explaining what she'd do at Mandela's place remained burned in his mind.

Angela wanted him. Women came in all shapes and sizes, but lust burned hot the same in all of them. Jake had learned to understand that look straight out of puberty. Hell, when a person loved doing something, they became an expert at it. What bugged him were the overwhelming protective urges he felt toward Angela.

King men were protective and possessive. Jake had heard his dad say so enough times and seen his father and his brother show both traits around their women. Angela wasn't his woman, though. Jake wasn't used to running backup on an investigation. He was a bounty hunter for Christ's sake. That was probably why he was feeling all weird around her.

Angela didn't have him figured out yet. Not that Jake should be surprised. He didn't have himself figured out yet, either, especially when it came to her. It was one thing to feel that sexual pull when they first saw each other. And kissing her would naturally make him wonder and hope for what would come next. But damn it! He was scared there was something else there, too. It was easy to see it in her eyes, but he knew what he saw was also inside him. Hopefully it was just curiosity. Jake had never met a beautiful woman with a passion for the hunt, for unveiling a mystery, as strong as his. Angela's furtive glances stopped once she started sharing what she'd learned. Her pretty eyes flashed with the excitement that knowledge brought when clues began unraveling. The anxiousness that grew in his gut as she shared her information ran hot in her, also.

Angela had been doing undercover work for a while now. He'd done his research on her. She'd been a licensed private investigator for four years. She was twenty-three. She'd lived with her father since she was sixteen and prior to that with her mother in Buenos Aires. Investigating was all Angela knew. It was in her blood, in her heart, and in her soul, which explained why she became a licensed P.I. damn near soon as she was legally able to do so. Jake had more in common with Angela than with any other lady he'd ever been with. Maybe that explained his possessive reaction toward her.

Whatever his reaction toward her, it was definitely strong. Too strong to just be lust. Which terrified him. If he liked Angela, really liked her, why the hell was he letting her work her way into a murderer's bedroom? Her window of opportunity was so damn narrow her chances of getting out without being discovered were slim to nil.

They were in a dangerous line of work. What she proposed doing tonight, though, went beyond dangerous. It was deadly. Not only did she risk getting raped if Mandela discovered her alone in his room, but if he grew leery of her being there she could get seriously hurt or killed. Tonight he needed to be positioned just right so that if Angela's plan backfired, he could get her the hell out of there before anything happened to her.

As sexy and beautiful as she was, Angela was also intelligent. She would do whatever it took to solve this case, return the kidnapped victims to their homes, and end the game forever. She was stubborn and would lock horns with him just for kicks. That didn't bother Jake. And it surprised him more than a little bit that it didn't. All those wonderful attributes he saw in Angela spelled out one simple description--"high maintenance." Jake didn't do high maintenance.

What was it about Angela that had him thinking like this?

Angela and her father had made it clear she was in charge. That didn't mean Jake should let her make foolish decisions. Jake's gut twisted with nervous trepidation. Why the hell did he agree to let her go on this insane mission?

He slowed within a block of Mandela's home. This part of Chicago was one mansion after another, each of them sitting on prime land and far off the road. A few he couldn't see from where he sat. Mario Mandela's home, which he'd signed a twelve-month lease to rent, was visible from the road but surrounded by a very tall black rod iron fence. Tall, pointed spikes every few feet on the fence made the place appear very uninviting, if not intimidating. The place just looked like a cold-blooded, murdering Italian Mafia lord would live there. A managing company rented the place to Mandela. Jake hadn't been able to find out who actually owned the mansion. Furthermore, Jake couldn't find out much about the management company, Luxury Living, other than they weren't registered with the Better Business Bureau. It wouldn't surprise Jake if the management company and the owner of this place were both crooks.

What he had managed to get, after having the thought come to him to check to see if Luxury Living had a website, which they did, were the floor plans of the homes they had listed for rent. Jake couldn't tell from the ambiguity of the site if the home Mario was in was currently listed as being for rent, or if it hadn't been removed from the site since it had just been rented. It showed the site had last been updated two weeks ago, which was two weeks after Mario had moved in. What the site didn't display were availability dates on any of their homes. For all Jake could tell every home they managed had floor plans on this site. Definitely a shady organization!

Regardless, Jake had been able to print the floor plans to Mandela's home. The accuracy of the website or how scrupulous they were, or were not, wasn't his problem. Jake already had a basic idea of the layout of the yard surrounding the home, and where it would be hardest for anyone to see someone jump the fence. It would be a bitch getting over those black spikes in the tall rod iron fence, but not impossible.

Getting situated in the car, turning the monitor so he could see it, and adjusting the backlight on the screen so it let off minimal light, he got as comfortable as possible. He had endured more stakeouts than he ever wanted to and knew the most important part of waiting was not allowing himself to get stiff. If he needed to spring into action, the last thing he needed was a foot or hand going to sleep on him. He stretched his large body out as best he could and actually got rather comfortable. He would have to change positions every few minutes to keep the blood circulating.

It hit him he hadn't bothered responding to any text messages since the other day when he'd still been home. Jake pulled out his phone and stared at it. The day was almost over and he hadn't received any text messages. He hadn't answered the ones he had received yesterday or the day before. His women were finding other men who would give them the time of day.

As he stared out the front windshield into the darkness, Jake realized that it didn't bother him. He'd grown tired a long time ago of lining up so many ladies as if they were notches on a bedpost. Old habits die hard and it simply took him a while to come to terms with the fact. He needed to keep in mind his time here in Chicago was short-term, though. Jake would return to L.A. as soon as this case was wrapped up. So did that mean once he was home he would start searching for one woman to date on a steady basis?

That thought didn't appeal to him, either.

Sighing heavily, Jake dropped his phone in his cup holder between the seats. His rental car still smelled new, and the seat was stiff when he adjusted it to recline a bit. He tilted his head to stare at the monitor. His thoughts drifted to Angela approaching him in the bookstore earlier.

The shorts and tank top she wore had showed off her slender legs. Her top barely reached her shorts, giving him a peek at her stomach. It was flat, hard, and toned to perfection. Those spaghetti straps kept threatening to slip over her shoulders, which had distracted him from ogling her round, full breasts. And there was no missing those perky, hard nipples. His mouth watered just thinking about them. The rest of him was hard as stone, lust and something even more primitive, more possessive and predatory, coming from deeper inside him, stirred to life as he thought of her.

When she had neared him in the back of the store, her long dark hair streaming past her shoulders and down her back, a carnal urge had sprung to life inside him. Suddenly he understood that urge. It was the need to protect, to claim and make him her man.

Jake wasn't sure how he knew what he was feeling. He tried remembering the last time a woman drew so much out of him and couldn't. Possibly his mother, but that was a completely different group of emotions. That was how he identified what he felt, though. He would kill to protect his family, and already, after having met Angela a year ago and now being with her again for less than a day, those feelings burned as strong inside him as the need to impale her and experience her soaked heat wrapped around him.

"God damn," he hissed, straining to adjust his vision to see outside. He glanced at his rearview and side mirrors, looked over his shoulder, and surveyed the land outside in front of him. He appeared to be completely alone.

Appearances could be deceptive, though, which was why he needed to remain alert. Sitting there with a boner and imagining how incredible having sex with Angela would be made it harder to focus on his job. This wasn't the first time he'd done surveillance work. It was often a long, boring part of the investigation. But it was necessary and could be the most important part of the job. He was there to protect Angela. God only knew what might happen to her if he weren't.

Jake focused on the small, round dot that blinked on the screen, showing him where Angela was at this moment. The dot was moving. She'd found her cab and was coming to the mansion. He straightened, watching the dot and shifting his attention to his surroundings outside until he finally spotted headlights.

A city cab passed him, slowed, and stopped down the street in front of the rod iron gate blocking the entrance to Mandela's mansion. The cab door opened and Angela stepped outside. Her hair lifted off her back from the breeze as she walked to the gate, took a moment studying it, then found the small box on the side that would announce her presence. If her plan worked, she would be inside the gate soon. Jake would have to get closer, too.

He would have preferred time to get a very accurate layout of the outside of the home. Knowing where all the security cameras were was a plus. Many times homes like this, as well as small businesses, and even at times larger businesses when they were trying to cut costs, or were just plain greedy with their cash flow, had fake security cameras. Jake had learned early on in the job how to tell if a surveillance camera was for real, or just a deterrent and didn't actually record or transmit anything.

Jake stared at her rear end, watching as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and waited. Angela's black strands curled at the ends, right above her ass. The shorts she wore hugged her hips and accentuated her nice curves. After a minute it appeared things weren't going as Angela had planned. She lowered her head, causing her long hair to fall forward and block his view of her face. Angela pushed the button on the box and said something, although Jake couldn't hear her from this distance.

When Angela returned to the cab, Jake exhaled. His nerves were wound tight. Even though he'd been prepared to get up and personal with that house while she was inside, it didn't bother him a bit that she'd have to find another way to gather her intel. He didn't want her alone with Mandela. When they met back at the hotel, Jake needed to convince her of a better way to release all those abducted people and take down Mandela.

* * *

Mario tapped his finger against his lips as he stared out the tinted window. Tomas pulled away from the Drake, not saying a word as he merged into what little traffic there was at this hour. Mario didn't mind the silence. Half the reason he'd kept Tomas on was because the man never said a word. He dutifully did as he was told without questioning Mario. If only his family could be so efficient.

He searched for the remorse for what he had done to his uncle but couldn't find any. Mario offered his sweat and blood to give those around him a good life. Even when he told himself Uncle Petrie was trying to warn Mario about Signorina Torres, Mario knew he'd done the right thing.

Uncle Petrie screaming that Angela was a slut simply confirmed the old man didn't have a clue how to be professional. He'd become a liability. This wasn't the old country, where everyone yelled at one another. In America, yelling sent people into shock. As it had Angela, causing her to run.

Mario continued tapping his finger, wondering if her running wasn't the result of something else. Possibly she'd taken advantage of Mario's uncle's outburst to flee the scene. Which she would have done if she was guilty of something.

In Mario's
padre
's time, it would simply be a matter of finding her family. Blood proved a lot. Mario's
padre
always had told him that. Family was everything. Know the family and you know the person.