a few notes that I’d include in a later report.
This one might take a while. Asher is probably a chronic couch potato. Talk to people at the trucking company. Find out if he’s filed for workers’ comp before. Start thinking of heavy things to have delivered to the house.
By now it was getting close to rush hour. Since I’d tended bar until two this morning, it was time to call it a day.
One of my favorite songs came on the radio. I turned up the volume and sang along. Badly. I can high kick in four-inch heels but, despite my mother’s best intentions and a year of voice lessons, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
I sing anyway.
I WORK IN Sin City, but I live in Paradise.
Not many people know this, but the unincorporated township of Paradise is separate from the city of Las Vegas. The Strip, the University of Nevada and McCarran International Airport are all located within the township’s confines.
I turned onto Skyland Drive and slowed down in case any of the kids were out playing. My neighbor, Dave Ginsberg, waved to me as I pulled into the driveway. He was walking a busty blonde to her car. Probably another cheerleader since that’s the only type he seemed to entertain. I hoped this one didn’t go to UNLV… Dave really needs to start carding his dates.
My house is a twenty-year-old single story with white stucco exterior and a gray tile roof. It’s got three bedrooms, a pool in back and desert landscaping in the front. Unlike Mrs. Sharp, I’ve got the xeriscape stuff. That means gravel, rocks, cacti and no grass to cut.
After making sure the doors were locked, I secured Anna’s Honda in the garage. Accords aren’t exactly high on the car thief Christmas list, but I wasn’t going to take my friend’s generosity for granted. I set my helmet on an empty shelf and walked in through the laundry/utility room door.
I love my house. The only problem is I don’t spend enough time here, so I haven’t done much with it. I’ve bought some things for my bedroom and the home office, but I eat in the kitchen and rarely entertain. Maybe, one day when I’ve got absolutely nothing better to do, I’ll ask Jon to help me decorate since he did a pretty good job with the agency.
I walked to the far end of the house to the spare bedroom that’s set up as a home office. I dumped my backpack by my desk and booted up the computer. While I waited for it, I grabbed the fax Jon sent and checked messages on the answering machine.
“You may have won a free vacation! Just call this number—” I hit the erase button.
The next message was from my mother. “Cara mia, don’t forget Wednesday night. We’re scheduled for seven o’clock, so don’t be late. Ti voglio bene, Stella.”
Ah, the mother/daughter bonding ritual. Mom decided a while ago that we don’t spend enough time together and that I need to get in better touch with my feminine side. So once a month we share a series of spa treatments. Last time I let her talk me into the Blush Pink Pedicure.
But I didn’t admit I liked it. “Hey, Steele, it’s Joey. I need you to go shopping with me. Tina’s birthday is coming up and I don’t have any idea what to get her.”
Neither did I, so I’d hint around when Mom and I went to the spa, Indulgences. Santina Otenyo owns the place. Tina was the best thing that ever happened to my brother so I’d make sure he got her something really…expensive.
There were no other messages, so after checking my e-mail and finding mostly spam, I went back down the hall to my bedroom. Peeling off my socks, jeans and T-shirt, I rooted around in the dresser for a clean swimsuit. I changed into the bikini, twisted my hair up and headed for the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, I checked to see if the steak I’d pulled from the freezer this morning had thawed. Then I grabbed a bottle of spring water and walked through the living room to open the French doors to the pool.
After baking in the Nevada sun all day, the concrete was hot under my feet. I tiptoed over to set my water down in the shade of the patio roof. Then I took a few steps and made a shallow dive into the crystalline water. The pool was warm but still cooler than the air. It felt wonderful.
I stroked down to the far end, rolled and swam back. After the first five laps, I hit my stride, pushing myself to cut through the water and beat the timer in my head. I’d just about completed my personal race when I noticed a dark blur at the edge of the pool. Startled, I almost swallowed a chlorinated mouthful.
Only a human being casts that large a shadow.
Had my creepy caller decided to show up in person? My heart tap-danced in my chest. My arms and legs began to tremble. Anxiety burned in my gut. Treading slowly beneath the surface, I felt like an idiot for staying underwater and I couldn’t stay under much longer—I was running out of air.
To hell with it. If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be from drowning. I leaped up, dragging breath into my lungs and loose hairs off my face. I swiped the water from my eyes so I could identify my assailant—
One totally aggravating Scotsman.
He squatted down, offering his hand to pull me out. I ignored it and headed for the ladder. Stone followed me to the top end of the pool and waited. I couldn’t believe this. I don’t see the guy for almost three months, then suddenly he shows up twice in one day. I climbed out and stood facing him, amazed that any water dripped onto the patio. It should have evaporated right off my skin.
“What the hell are you doing at my house?”
“Here’s a fine welcome, then.” His blue eyes slowly roamed my body with exacting attention to detail.
I fought the urge to squirm. My body remembered the way his hands had once followed the path his eyes now traveled. It took a lot of willpower for me not to put out signs saying, Thank You For Visiting. Please Come Again.
Then his mouth widened into a mischievous grin as he admired my chest. I glanced down. The transparent nature of my white cotton swimsuit was my undoing. Guess those signs were visible after all. I raised my chin and met Stone’s gaze head-on. Let him look; it wasn’t like he’d never seen my breasts before. But damned if he’d get to touch.
That’s what I told myself. Repeatedly. However, the soft light of evening emphasized his golden good looks and I could feel his innate sensuality drawing me like a lodestone. Standing half-naked and yearning before him, he had me at a disadvantage. But, as much as my mind protested, my body didn’t seem to mind at all.
CHAPTER TEN
Wet and Out of Breath
CAMERON SAW THE DESIRE beneath her anger and knew he had only to reach for her. If he drew his fingers along the slick-wet surface of her skin she would heat to his touch. He smiled. In half a moment he’d have her in his arms and out of that bit of a bikini. Stella knew it as well.
Which was precisely why he kept his hands at his sides. They’d come together so damned fast before, and though the red-hot impulses were obviously still present, he intended to proceed with caution this time.
“I asked what you’re doing here.” She swept past him, snatching up a towel from a pile on one of the chairs.
“You called me.
