Next To Die Page 14

  “Why don’t you come up to my room,” Vinny offered with a familiar crooked smile. “So we can talk.”

  Oh, sure. They were going to talk. In his bedroom. While he got naked and took a shower. She sneaked a self-conscious peek at the other couple, who were suddenly preoccupied with dirty dishes.

  This was going a little fast, even for Lia. Nonetheless, she stood up to follow Vinny. The sooner they got past the sex, the sooner she could forget him. She cringed at her crudeness, but honestly, it wasn’t like something long-term could ever happen anyway.

  His room was a retreat of vast potential. “Holy shit,” Lia sighed, taking in the high ceilings, the reading alcove with a window overlooking the length of the beach.

  At night he would have a view of the city, ablaze with neon lights. In the morning, the rising sun would wash this room in golds and oranges. If it were her room, she’d put a huge metallic sculpture of the sun on one wall and dangle wind chimes in the window. She’d break up the space with silk screens and throw bamboo rugs on the floor.

  “I know, it’s messy,” Vinny apologized, oblivious to the pictures in her mind.

  It wasn’t really. For a guy, it was a relatively neat, with just a simple queen-sized bed, navy sheets still rumpled and inviting, and serviceable furniture. Like any young man, he had a couple of posters tacked to the wall, but they were pictures of tropical beaches, not pop stars, thank God.

  “So, why’d you bother to come looking for me?” he asked, locking the door surreptitiously behind him.

  Lia’s mouth went dry as he hung his sweatshirt on the back of his door. He proceeded to pull the Under Armour over his head, revealing a mat of black hair on his perfect chest. More hair than a boy his age ought to have, it narrowed to a line that disappeared into his low-slung sweatpants.

  “Just to prove that I could,” she managed breathlessly.

  Taking the situation in hand, Lia approached him with a slow, seductive walk. In her high-heeled boots, she could stare him straight in the eye. She did so now, catching a watchful gleam in his chocolate-brown eyes.

  Lifting a hand to his shoulder, she found his skin hot and silky, softer than the skin of any man she’d ever touched. She let her palm stray downward over his bulging pectoral muscle. It flexed, thrilling her with the realization of her power.

  “I need to shower,” he told her, preventing her from trailing that line of hair that bisected his abdomen.

  She stepped back, dismissing him. “Go ahead.”

  He gathered a change of clothing, then disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door.

  Lia listened for a click. There wasn’t any. The door was wide open if she decided to join him.

  But she’d spent hours this morning doing her hair, pampering her skin, putting on her makeup. She didn’t want to wash all that work down the drain.

  The bathroom was out of the question. She would have to seduce him when he came out. But how?

  She’d never seduced a man in her life. The older men she’d been with had always been the aggressors. Granted, it was fun to wield a little power, but she was tad bit out of her element here.

  Should she lie across his bed? Nah, that was overdoing it. She could seat herself in the cushioned alcove, strike a seductive pose, and wait. It seemed a safer bet.

  She did so, gazing out the window to a view that captivated her.

  When she was just a little girl, her father used to take them to the beach all summer long. She would sit at the edge of the sea, just sit and sink into the sand, becoming one with the ocean. How long had it been since she’d felt the surge and retreat of the waves, rocking her like a mother?

  She closed her eyes, listening to the ocean’s roar.

  What she heard was Vinny turning the water off. Her heart beat faster. She assumed what she thought was a sultry position, legs slightly splayed, one foot up on the cushion and one on the floor.

  She never heard the bathroom door open. Vinny’s reflection drifted across the windowpane. Startled, she turned her head and found him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at her. She thought she’d find him shirtless, or at least half-naked. But he was completely dressed, wearing jeans and a burgundy T-shirt. He slipped his feet into sneakers, all the while assessing her intently.

  “How good are you at bowling?” he asked her.

  The question was so random that it took Lia several seconds to understand it, yet alone supply an answer. “I haven’t bowled in years,” she admitted.

  “You want to come? I have to be at the bowling alley in fifteen minutes.”

  So, no wild monkey sex on his rumpled bed right now.

  Relief swamped her, mingled with disappointment. “Okay,” she answered, careful to conceal her mixed response.

  “Great.” His smile was a hundred percent boy.

  He stood up, and she came to her feet, a little miffed that he would rather go bowling than jump into bed with her. As she made to brush by him, he caught her with a quick hook of his arm and spun her around. His lips landed like a well-aimed missile right on her startled mouth.

  And then he was kissing her with that same heady skill he’d used before. Actually, it had to be an innate talent rather than a skill, because it wasn’t cold or practiced. It was hot and hungry and completely spontaneous.

  And she couldn’t get enough of it.

  Lia’s knees turned to water. She melted against him, forcing him to tighten his hold. That brought their hips flush, leaving no doubt in her mind that he’d rather have sex with her than go bowling any day.

  The kiss ended as abruptly as it began. Keeping an arm around her waist—she would have collapsed otherwise—Vinny herded her to the door. “Don’t want to be late,” he gruffly explained.

  That was when she had her first real inkling that getting Vinny out of her system wasn’t going to be that easy.

  “You’re late!” barked a male voice, booming out of the confusing blend of multiple conversations, rumbling bowling balls, and crashing pins. “You missed the warm-up. What part of eleven hundred hours didn’t you understand, PO2?”

  Lia realized that it was Vinny who was being yelled at, by a man in his late thirties with a streak of silver in his black hair and eyes of such a pale hue they were opalescent. She looked at Vinny to see how he would answer the charge. To her surprise, she found him grinning. “Come on, Senior Chief, you know I don’t need to warm up.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. Where the hell is Teddy?”

  “Teddy’s not coming.”

  “What? This is a tournament, not a goddamn practice.” A V-shaped vein appeared on the senior chief’s forehead.

  “Easy, McGuire.” With affable authority in his voice, another man stood up to tower over everyone. Lia gaped, awed by his height and breadth and his all-American good looks. “What’s Teddy doing?” Mr. Sports Illustrated demanded.

  “Nate’s got him looking at houses,” Vinny explained with an inner-city shrug.

  “Christ,” swore the senior chief, looking disgusted. “I knew it was a woman.”

  Lia raised an eyebrow at the misogynistic comment.

  “But I brought someone to take his place,” Vinny added. “This is Lia Price. Lia, meet Lieutenant Lindstrom and Senior Chief McGuire.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she murmured. “I haven’t played in years,” she hissed in Vinny’s ear. “I can’t be in a tournament!”

  “We just want to play,” Vinny answered persuasively. “We don’t care if we lose.”

  “The hell we don’t,” the senior chief started to mutter, but Lieutenant Lindstrom cut him off.

  “We need a fourth player or we have to forfeit,” he pointed out.

  “So come on,” said Vinny, taking the man’s observation as permission to proceed. “Let’s get our shoes.” He tugged her to the rental counter, where she grudgingly requested a pair of size sevens.

  The atmosphere, complete with music from the fifties, made Vinny’s eyes sparkle. His e
nthusiasm was contagious. Lia felt her pulse quicken.

  She watched Senior Chief McGuire place a pitcher of beer and four plastic cups on the table behind them.

  “His code name’s Mako,” Vinny divulged, following her gaze.

  “As in mako shark?” she asked. With the silver streak in his hair and his pale eyes, he looked just like one.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. His bark’s worse than his bite. Or rather, his bite isn’t all that bad,” he amended to keep from mangling metaphors.

  “You’re up first, Vinny,” Lieutenant Lindstrom called. “And then you, ma’am.” He nodded at Lia.

  Ma’am again. Weren’t there expectations of behavior that went with that word?

  “Here’s a ten-pound ball for you,” Vinny said, dropping one in her lap. “Let me know if it’s too heavy.” He hefted his own, heavier ball and stepped onto the wooden platform to launch it down the lane.

  Lia watched, enjoying the way he cocked his hips and took aim. The ball whipped down the lane, arced at the last second, and slammed into the pins, landing him a strike.

  The lieutenant high-fived him as Vinny returned to his seat, grinning. “You’re up.”

  Lia’s dismay rose along with her blood pressure. “I’m going to suck at this.”

  “Nah, just have some fun,” Vinny said.

  Feeling tense and exposed, with a hundred pairs of male eyes pretending not to notice her, Lia gave it her best shot and landed a gutter ball.

  “That’s all right,” Vinny called out. “Try again.”

  Determined not to disgrace herself, she aimed her second ball with even more care, then tentatively released it. It rolled lazily down the lane and toppled a few measly pins.

  Humiliated, she returned to her seat.

  Before she could flop into her chair, Vinny grabbed her hand and pulled her up to their table. “Have a beer,” he offered. “It’ll relax you.”

  While Lieutenant Lindstrom and Senior Chief McGuire took their turns, Lia chugged down a beer.

  “Your backside looks great in those jeans,” Vinny said with a grin. “Could have heard a pin drop when you walked up to take your turn.”

  She moaned. “Please don’t tell me that everyone’s watching me make a fool of myself.”

  “You’ll do fine. Teddy’s not all that good anyway.”

  The screen over their area flashed a strike for Lieutenant Lindstrom.

  “So, you work with these guys?” she asked Vinny.

  “Yeah. LT’s our operations officer, and Senior Chief’s our top enlisted.”

  “He’s scary,” Lia confessed as the man in question hurled the ball toward the pins, knocking them all down but one.

  “Naw. He’s a pussycat with fins.”

  An hour later, Lia realized that Vinny might be right. Maybe it was the beer they all imbibed, but the senior chief made a point to say that her score had improved with every turn, and she started liking him better.

  And Lieutenant Lindstrom kept calling her ma’am, which she found dignifying. At the end of every turn, he held out a hand for her to slap.

  She was feeling like one of the guys, a critical part of the team. Only Vinny’s hot gaze kept reminding her that she was very much a woman—a woman he intended to possess, when the time suited him.

  Here she was in a bowling alley when she thought she’d be in his bedroom—on the floor, on the bed, against the wall. Oh, my God, on the window seat where people on the beach could look up and see them!

  She cursed the inhibitions that had kept her from taking Vinny in hand. This seduction thing was so not going according to plan.

  “We’re in second place,” divulged Senior Chief McGuire two hours later. “We’re three points behind Team Ten.” His opalescent gaze settled on Lia and narrowed.

  She got the message: If we lose, it’ll be your fault, woman.

  She couldn’t let her team down. Despite the pleasant buzz that came from drinking two beers, Lia summoned her determination. She’d played softball in high school. Bowling wasn’t all that different from pitching. Maybe if she thought of the pins as home base and drove the ball straight across the plate . . .

  “Your turn,” said Vinny, giving her knee a squeeze. “Good luck.” He kissed her cheek.

  He’d spent the last two hours making her feel like the queen of the bowling alley. He’d bought her nachos. He’d polished her bowling ball. He’d powdered her hand.

  She caught herself thinking he would sure make a sweet boyfriend.

  Are you crazy? said her pride. He’s four years younger than you are!

  Shut up and pitch to the plate, chimed in her competitive side. Stepping up to the platform, she hefted the ball, squeezed her biceps, and released it.

  The ball remained airborne for a moment. But then it hit the lane screaming. To her astonishment, it flattened all ten pins. “Ahhh!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air.

  The senior chief and the lieutenant surged to their feet, roaring with surprise. Vinny rushed at her, picked her up, and whirled her in a circle.

  Clutching his broad shoulders and laughing, she realized she was happy in a way she hadn’t been in years.

  “You get to go again,” he said excitedly. “Do it the same way!”

  “Phew, okay.” She shook off her happy jitters and went to collect her bonus points. Don’t think. Just throw.

  Vinny hushed the others into silence. Lia envisioned home plate again, reared back, and let go. The ball did exactly the same thing as last time. With a scream of delight, she jumped into Vinny’s arms, legs locked around his hips, and kissed him.

  His arms clamped her into place. Right there in front of God and everybody, he kissed her like he owned her.

  Sex could not have been better than that one perfect kiss.

  With reluctance, Lia let her legs slip to the floor. She gazed at Vinny, dazed, wondering what had just passed between them.

  “Are you Ophelia Price?” Lieutenant Lindstrom called, jarring her from her dreamy haze. He had a cell phone tucked under one ear.

  “Uh, yeah . . .” Who wants to know?

  “Your sister’s trying to get in touch with you,” he explained, handing her the phone.

  “My sister?”

  “Here, talk to my wife. Your sister said you were with Vinny today. Luckily, Hannah knew that Vinny was with me.”

  Hannah Lindstrom, the FBI agent? Good grief, it was a small world!

  As the lieutenant got up to earn a spare, Lia listened to the agent tell her that Eric Tomlinson was dead and that she and Penny might or might not be targeted by his killer.

  “What?” she gasped, sinking into a seat. “Why would someone kill Eric? I thought he was the bad guy.”

  “We assumed he was the bad guy,” the agent corrected her, “but it seems that your father, and now Eric, was killed by whoever purchased the ricin. You need to return to your home, where the police can keep an eye on you.”

  The happiness that had buoyed her up was wrenched away. “I’m on my way,” she said. Out the corner of her eye, she noted Vinny’s grave regard.

  Ending the call, she sat a moment processing the awful discovery that someone else, and not Eric, had killed their father. All this time, he’d probably been trying to warn them, not threaten them! You’ll be sorry, he’d said, and he was right.

  “Lia?” It was Vinny, sliding closer, putting his arm around her. “What’sa matter?”

  “I have to go home,” she told him, subdued by shock.

  “Why?” he asked, taking the phone from her frozen hands.

  She leaned briefly against him, needing his strength. “It’s just, um . . .” She was just inebriated enough to make her thoughts muddy. “I have to go.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Sir, I need to take her home,” he relayed to the lieutenant as he passed him back the phone.

  “The game’s pretty much over,” Luther Lindstrom pointed out. “Feel free to leave. And thanks for helping us out, ma’am,” he added
to Lia.

  “Oh, sure,” she said distractedly.

  They turned in her shoes and made their way to the parking lot. Lia couldn’t summon a word of small talk. Vinny kept quiet, too. He put her into his passenger seat and started driving.

  She was halfway home when she roused from shock enough to realize that her car was parked at his condo. “Oh, not again! I could have driven myself this time.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he reassured her.

  “But you have to bother your friend to help you, and I hate it when I inconvenience people. He’s going to think I’m some kind of irresponsible—”

  “Listen to me,” Vinny cut in. He had a quiet authority about him that made her stop talking. “It’s not a problem,” he repeated. “Now tell me what’s going on that’s got you talking to an FBI agent.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. For a guy she’d intended to seduce and walk away from, he was managing to make himself look and sound more like a boyfriend, and she was not—repeat, was not—going to let that happen. “Don’t worry about it.” She looked out the window to keep from seeing the effect of her words on his face.

  The car got dangerously quiet.

  As Vinny approached the next intersection, he downshifted, his muffler roaring, and then he executed a U-turn.

  Lia’s heart beat faster. She sneaked a glance at him and found his jaw muscles jumping. “Where are we going now?” she asked. It occurred to her that she really didn’t know this man at all. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to discover that he had a temper.

  “Back to your car,” he said on a cold note.

  Okay. She’d wanted that, but not when he made it sound like it would be over the minute she stepped out of his vehicle. The thought of not seeing him again made her feel like her innards had been ripped out and thrown out the window.

  As they screamed along an empty four-lane road, bypassing a school and a playground, Lia struggled for something to say that would keep him dangling. Nothing witty or alluring came to mind.