He rolled onto his back again and then he rolled once more to face her, to watch her sleeping in the faint glow of the security lights that shone dimly through the windows. She was beautiful. More now than before. Earlier, in that dress made for sin, she'd looked beyond hot, beyond steamy. But now, like this, she was just a plain natural beauty, simple with her bed-tousled hair and lips half parted in sleep, the lipstick gone to leave them a familiar color, like slightly faded berries.
Either way, it didn't matter how she looked—the lust he felt for her was intense. He knew that if he stayed in this bed much longer, he'd be reaching out his hand beneath the sheets and…
Come on, Tate, shake this off now. You're a professional. Act like it.
Finally, Max pushed back the covers and got out of bed. He couldn't sleep here and not have her. He took his pillow and made his way to one of the chairs across the room by the fireplace, where he'd just have to suffer until morning.
* * *
Kimberly awoke to the songs of birds beyond the balcony door and was surprised to be waking at all—she'd not expected to ever fall asleep last night.
She rolled slowly in Max's direction, then cautiously eased her eyes open.
He was gone!
She sat up in bed, startled, but she quickly spotted him across the room, curled impossibly in one of the chairs by the fireplace, one leg stretched across the marble table.
Her heart sank a little at the sight. Sleeping next to him had been difficult, but that didn't mean she'd wanted him to leave. Just being close to him—whether or not they touched—made her feel so … alive.
Oh well, she thought, slumping back against her pillow. So much for feeling alive. She'd not imagined it would bother him so much to sleep next to her that he'd actually feel compelled to get up and go away. He must harbor even worse feelings for her than she realized. Maybe even worse feelings than he understood. After all, it had been his plan that they share the room and the bed.
She rolled back over on her side and shut her eyes tight, holding back the tears that threatened to leak free. A P.I. didn't cry, especially not one who was determined to show her old boss she was worthy of her job.
Be tough, Kimberly
, she commanded herself. She'd had no trouble being surer, cockier these past three years since parting ways with Max. She'd had to be. She'd had to let her personality take on new dimensions in order to keep her emotions out of her work. But Max… Well, he was enough to bring all her old feelings rushing back, and she didn't know what she could possibly do to stop it.
* * *
Three hours later, Kimberly lay in her bikini, stretched out next to the pool in a fabulous lounge chair. Next to her, the water sparkled in aqua splendor beneath the sun. Potted palms dotted the area, vibrant summer flowers in bright yellows and hot pinks lining the perimeter. Teak lawn furniture sat scattered randomly, the tables covered with enormous turquoise umbrellas, and hidden speakers sent music wafting over the backyard to make the scene complete. Kimberly lay back and sighed with the grandeur of it all.
L.A.
wasn't the
Caribbean
, but sometimes it came close.
Another heavenly aspect of the moment was that she was alone in her sunny paradise, at least for now. Carlo and Max had gone out to get steaks for the grill. She desperately needed this private time to regroup from everything that had already happened … and to prepare for everything yet to take place.
For one thing, she'd grown suddenly squeamish about having Carlo's eyes on her in a bikini. She didn't normally have qualms over hiding her body, but it was different when a man was looking at you like
that
. She thought of that lecherous quality she'd sensed in him instantly, and she found herself hoping that Max would be around for the duration of their sunning and swimming.
Then again, she was practically as squeamish about Max right now, only in a different way. She still felt embarrassed that he'd left the bed and she even wondered if he'd somehow been able to feel her wanting him so badly. They'd not discussed it this morning. She'd fallen back asleep and by the time she reawakened, Max had showered and dressed. He'd conveniently stepped out onto the balcony while she scurried to the bathroom, all the more aware of what she still wore.
She released a long sigh into the balmy air, remembering how she'd promised herself that she wouldn't give in to her desire for him. Yet that kiss before dinner last night had quickly done her in and now she felt helpless. It would be good to refocus on her original goals for this job, just as she'd thought about this morning. She needed to show Max that she wouldn't let him down, which meant she needed to be tough. And she needed to survive being near him without going crazy with lust
A tall order, but she could do it. She
would
do it.
Only she would do it later. Right now, this was
her
time. She planned to bask in the sun, and the luxury of it all. To clear her mind and get reenergized. Kimberly closed her eyes and let the soft sounds of the music fill her, let the warmth of the sun lull her into relaxation.
* * *
Max was glad he'd noticed a supermarket nearby as he and Kimberly had driven to the mansion yesterday, or else he wouldn't have known where to go for steaks. Carlo wasn't the sharpest knife in the cutting block, but even
he
might have found it suspicious if Max didn't know where to buy groceries.
Now he and Carlo were meandering the aisles together, and Max covered his lack of store knowledge by explaining that Mrs. Leland did most of their shopping. Anything else they needed, Kimberly usually picked up.
"Gorgeous woman, that Kimberly," Carlo said.
Max just wanted to shake his head at the guy. How many times had Carlo made the same comment since he'd met her?
Get a new line, Carlo
, he wanted to say.
Remember you're talking to her husband
. But Carlo seemed so completely taken by her that if he had any sense at all, it had obviously vanished.
"Yes, she certainly is," Max said, his stock reply. He spotted the meat counter in the back of the sprawling store. "This way."
"Bet she's something in bed," Carlo snickered under his breath.
Was this guy serious? Max wasn't even sure if Carlo had intended him to hear that, but either way, what a total clod! Under any other circumstances, Max would have punched the jerk in the mouth, but that wasn't on the agenda here. S
tay cool. Play dumb. That's your role, annoying as it is
. Instead, he gave a throaty, knowing laugh and said, "I don't divulge trade secrets."
Although he smiled to himself and knew that if he did tell Carlo about Kimberly, he'd have said that she was outstanding in bed, that making love to her was, in fact, a sublime experience. Not that he could speak from
recent
experience, but those kinds of memories didn't fade.
Max ordered the steaks from the butcher while Carlo went off in search of beer. While he waited for the meat to be wrapped, he found his mind drifting back to what had happened last night, or more precisely, to what had
not
happened. Apparently, Kimberly didn't even have to be doing anything in bed to drive him wild—just sleeping near her was enough to make him crazed. He shook his head at the insanity of it.
Only now was it occurring to him that he'd been so in heat over her that he'd lain there obsessing over it, not even thinking about Carlo or the case or the fact that they were all under the same roof. Carlo had been lying in the next room still planning to rob them—Max knew that much. So, in effect, Carlo had been on the job and Max hadn't. Kimberly had completely taken over his mind.
Not exactly good form, Tate
, he berated himself.
Well, it was just a damn good thing he'd gotten out of bed. One thing was for sure, this had been a wakeup call. He couldn't let her keep distracting him. The job depended on it. And his client was depending on it. From now on, he'd shape up and take control of this thing. No more juvenile reactions. No more thinking with his pants.
As Carlo returned, a twelve-pack of beer tucked under each arm, Max realized it was back to work. That meant doing just what would reel old Carlo in—turning things back toward his "wife." He decided to drop a line that would come in handy later when they put the sting in motion.
"Kimberly will really enjoy grilling outside this afternoon," he said as the butcher handed him the steaks. "We have that huge area for entertaining, but with just the two of us, and me being so busy at work, we don't make much use of it."
"Spend a lot of time at work, do you?"
Max held back his smile. Carlo had taken his bait perfectly. This was too easy. "Yeah. I'm stuck there late a lot of nights. Sometimes I even get called in on weekends. I know Kimberly gets tired of spending so much time on her own."
"Weekends, too, huh? That's rough. Happen very often?"
Max pretended to be concentrating on the vast array of snack chips he'd turned to study. "Mmm, yeah, pretty often."
Carlo's eyes widened earnestly. "Well, I hope you don't get called in this afternoon 'cause I'm looking forward to these steaks," he said with a smile. "But if you do…"
Max scooped up a bag of corn chips. "Yeah?"
"Well, at least Kimberly won't be left alone. I'll be there to keep her company."
Max grinned and even patted Carlo on the back. "I guess that's true. And I'm sure Kimberly is enjoying your visit."
"Oh?"
Max played it off as nothing. "Well, it's quiet in that big house, even when I
am
home. I just get the idea sometimes that … well, that she might like a change of pace, you know?"
Carlo let his smile deepen, clearly reading into the words exactly what Max wanted him to. Max had decided earlier that imaginary call into the office wouldn't come until tomorrow. It wasn't that he wanted to stretch this thing out—it already seemed interminably long—but he didn't want to be obvious by rushing it. Carlo had spent four days with Max's client before he'd made the move to seduce her and steal her jewelry. Of course, maybe his client's husband wasn't as blind and encouraging as Max was, but one day just seemed too soon. Two would be better.
"That reminds me," he added. "Kimberly and I were talking last night and we both thought, why not invite Carlo to stay the whole weekend, let those paint fumes settle a while? What do you say?"
Carlo's smile now stretched from ear to ear. "Sounds great."
Thought it would
, Max wanted to mumble, but he held it in.
The two men began making their way to the checkout when Max stopped. "Hang on a minute," he said to Carlo, and then went to the aisle where they kept the wine products and grabbed a carton of tropical-flavored wine coolers. It had just hit him that Kimberly had never been much of a beer drinker, but he knew she was fond of wine.
Upon returning to the house, Max immediately suggested that Carlo go back to his place and pick up enough clothes for a couple of days.
"I'll heat up the grill while you're gone," Max said, waving as Carlo departed.
Once Carlo was finally out of sight, Max turned away, glad to let the smile fade, glad to quit acting for a few minutes. That's why he'd insisted Carlo go with him to the store. Besides not wanting to leave Kimberly alone with the guy, he wanted to make sure she had an ample break before resuming her role. Now he'd discovered he needed a break, too. It would be good to have the creep gone for a little while.
Max went inside and put the steaks and drinks in the refrigerator, then located the plates and utensils he'd need for grilling, gathering them on the counter. After that, he moved toward the French doors in the back, where Kimberly was probably relaxing by the pool.
He opened one of the doors and stopped dead in his tracks. Yep, Kimberly was by the pool, all right. She lay there in glorious, sensuous abandon, her arms lifted over her head, her body stretched across the chair like a cat sunning itself.
He'd forgotten how good she looked in a bikini. This one was bold with a floral design that suited the vibrant surroundings. But he wasn't really looking at the bikini. He was looking at what was in it. Kimberly was no twig—she had a perfect hourglass shape, all slender, all curves, and all of it looking incredibly touchable. His mind drifted back in time to what he knew about those curves, to how they felt in his hands. Touching her was like touching a work of art, her body soft and malleable.