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Red Shoes and A Diary
Red Shoes and A Diary

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Red Shoes and A Diary

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“Okay, Mr. Fabulous has to be worldly. I want to be able to discuss current events and world politics.”

“You hate politics, and when was the last time you read a newspaper?” Julie tried to grab the paper from her.

Meghan held on and continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “He also has to be intelligent, sensitive, romantic, successful, virile, sexy and prompt.”

“Prompt? Give me a break. Come on, admit it. All you really want is a guy who (a)looks like a fashion model and (b)makes love like a porn star.”

They both dissolved into peals of laughter. After catching her breath, Julie glanced at her watch and winced. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’m hosting a party by the Cascade Pool tonight and there’s still a lot to do.”

Meghan wrapped both arms around her sister in a fierce hug. “Thank you again. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. You’re going to have a great week!” Julie kissed her cheek. “Hey, why don’t you come to the party? It’s the perfect place to look for Mr. Fabulous if Nick doesn’t work out.”

“I think Nick will work out just fine.”

Meghan smiled as she closed the door. She couldn’t wait to do the Cinderella thing. She was half scared and half excited, but totally committed. Tonight would be the beginning of something wonderful. She took a small green paisley book from her tote bag and went out on the balcony.

The man she dreamed about now had a face and a name. She leaned her head back against the chair, let her eyelids drift shut and let the fantasy sweep her away. Moments later, she opened her eyes, grabbed her pen, and flipped to the first page of her new diary.

The words flew across the paper as she tried to capture the image in her mind. Nick’s green eyes shimmer with an inner fire as he stares at Elise. When he speaks, his one-word command is rough with desire. “Strip,” he says and she slowly peels off her dress…

ALEX GRABBED a cold beer out of the minibar and headed for the balcony. As he passed through the living room he considered putting that champagne into the fridge, but he’d probably never drink the stuff. Then he noticed Meghan’s blue journal on the coffee table.

His conscience pricked him over keeping the book of fantasies. He assumed Meghan had been too distracted to remember, but he couldn’t forget it. He picked it up and, with perfect recall, imagined the entry he read before, except now the man and woman beneath the waterfall were him and Meghan.

He plundered her sweet mouth and slid her wet, naked body onto his, listening to her cry out in pleasure… He glanced at his watch and decided he had time to read a little more.

A while later, Alex reached for his beer. His mouth had gone dry about six pages ago. The bottle was empty. He wasted a couple of seconds debating whether to get another one. Instead, he lit a cigarette, then turned the page to the next entry. Just one more…

He got caught up in the wildly erotic scenes she’d created. As he read, he couldn’t help but compare the journal personality to the real woman. A profile emerged and he figured he had Meghan pegged. Smart, well-educated, middle-class professional. Sexual dynamite primed to blow a hole through the heart of the first man who touched her the right way. He wanted to be that man.

As he crushed out the half-smoked cigarette, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that it was all an act. The journal, the seductive innocence, the blushing attempts to flirt. Everything could have been carefully calculated to get past his defenses. After that mess in Overtown, Braga would be wary of another double-cross.

Alex closed the journal as the evening shadows stretched farther across the balcony, tilting his head to ease the kink in his neck. He also needed to ease the bulge in his jeans before meeting Meghan for dinner.

After a quick but satisfying shower, he shaved and got dressed. He slipped the journal into the breast pocket of his sports jacket on his way out the door, wondering whether to return it before or after they ate. He stepped off the elevator and walked across the lobby to the small lounge just off the atrium. He scanned the cocktail-hour crowd until he spotted Meghan at a corner table.

Whoa.

She wore a pale-pink dress that flowed over her body like water. He could see that the open buttons at the neckline revealed the swell of her breasts. The short skirt rode up her thighs, showing off the length of caramel skin. Her shapely calves crossed at the ankles and her feet were bare. Another pair of “seduce me” sandals lay abandoned under the table.

Alex forced his gaze to her face. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. She’d done something to make those gorgeous brown eyes appear smoky, mysterious. Her lips were painted a slick, glossy pink. Just looking at her was getting him hard again.

What was she wearing under that dress? The black lace bikini set? No, it would show through the pink fabric. The white satin one was more likely. Smiling as he moved toward her, he could just imagine the smooth material covering her sexy—

Alex stopped abruptly.

He was so focused on Meghan he didn’t see the man sitting with her—a man he knew very well. Memories assaulted him and he closed his eyes briefly. Gunshots. Chaos. The smell of blood. Blinding pain. The scar on his temple started throbbing and a wave of nausea swept over him.

He slid behind a marble pillar, waiting for the anxiety to pass but keeping Meghan in sight. He studied Rogelio Braga’s salt-and-pepper hair, impeccable tailoring, old world manners. If he wasn’t a drug trafficking felon, Alex might even have liked him.

He touched his fingers to the book in his jacket. To think he’d been sorry about deceiving her.

His gut twisted again. His hope that she wasn’t connected with the cartel vanished as he watched her laugh at something Braga said. Were they discussing him, and how she’d played him? Braga had invited “Nicholas” to Cayo Sueño in appreciation of him saving the man’s life. Ms. Foster, if that was really her name, must be the reward after all. Shit!

He wanted to believe Meghan wasn’t part of this, that the room mix-up was pure coincidence. But, thinking about the woman in her journal, he acknowledged that she was doing one hell of a job hiding her true personality. He must be losing his edge to have been taken in so easily.

Alex watched Braga place his hand on her forearm as he spoke. When Meghan nodded, he got up and walked away. She sat quietly for a moment before looking around the cocktail lounge. Her eyes moved in his direction and Alex stepped out from behind the pillar.

She waved eagerly when she spotted him. If she were for real, he’d have cherished the greeting. Instead, he was pissed off that he’d fallen for the act, fallen for her. He scrutinized her as he strode toward the table. There was nothing but genuine pleasure in her smile, no pretence or deceit.

Lord, let him be wrong.

“Hi, Nick!” She indicated the chair beside hers. “I was beginning to wonder if you stood me up.”

Nick. Yeah, that’s right. We both have roles to play, don’t we? He lowered himself into the seat, keeping his gaze fixed on her face. “You didn’t look lonely.”

“What? Oh. That was just small talk. I wasn’t planning to throw you over for him.” She gave him a teasing smile and her hands fluttered to her lap. She seemed giddy, nervous. Guilty?

“Who was he?” Even as he said it, the flat inflection of his tone revealed more than he intended.

Meghan blinked in surprise. “Nobody. He just recognized me from the welcome reception.”

He studied her carefully, but didn’t see any of the physical signs he’d been trained to look for. Then again, his instincts about women had failed him before. “You seemed to be pretty deep in conversation.”

“You seem to notice a lot for someone who just showed up.”

He acknowledged her quick retort with a slight grin. As far as he could figure, she was neither lying nor being evasive. For the moment. “Sorry. Army recon habits die hard.”

The frown lines cleared from her brow, as did the tension in her shoulders. She leaned to one side of her chair, her elbow resting on the arm. The shift caused her dress to gap slightly, giving him a nice view of the lace edges of her pink bra.

He didn’t remember her having this much cleavage. She must be wearing one of those lift-up push-together things. Not that he minded. She looked great. He just wanted to know why.

“So what were you two talking about?”

“He was telling me about the ruins on the east side of the island. Apparently, he’s a regular guest here at the resort.”

“He was just following Julie’s advice, huh? Making sure you have a good time? I thought that was my job.”

His gaze followed the fingers of one hand as she traced circles over the opposite wrist. Her gestures had a different energy tonight. Either her innate sensuality had been unleashed or the move was well rehearsed. Against his better judgment, he was seriously turned on. Meghan wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore some erotic fantasies.

“You haven’t been hired yet.” She angled her head and regarded him from across the table. Her hot-pink lips tilted in a haughty smirk. “First of all, there’s a dress code.”

“Hey, this is one of my favorite shirts.” He held open one side of his sports jacket to give her a better view of the green-and-orange pattern.

“I’d hate to see what you passed over. All you need is a parrot and a rapier to complete the look.”

More fantasies. More games. Fine. He was willing if it got his badge restored. He lowered his voice to an intimate level. “If you don’t like it, I’ll take it off. We can play the Lusty Pirate and the Tavern Wench.”

“That sounds like an interesting fantasy.”

“It’s one of many. I’ll tell you some other ones later.”

With a delighted grin, she leaned back in her chair. “Okay, the job is yours. How much do you charge?”

“I work on the barter system. Why don’t we start the negotiations over dinner?” He stood and went around to her chair.

“I should warn you, I intend to drive a hard bargain.”

He chuckled. “Let the games begin.”

Alex extended his hand to help her up, glad for the chance to touch her. Holding Meghan’s soft fingers while she slipped her sandals back on, he was again treated to a glimpse of her cleavage. When she stood, their eyes met briefly and he knew she’d flashed him on purpose.

More than her looks had been revamped. Whatever the cause, he really liked her new confidence. A bold sensuality hummed just below the surface. The new Meghan was a woman sure of herself and her appeal.

Alex matched his gait to hers as they walked across the lobby toward Breezes, the outdoor restaurant. He admired the view as she strode ahead of him, head high and shoulders back. That sexy little swing to her hips sent a shudder of longing through him.

Meghan glanced over one shoulder, her whiskey-colored eyes twinkling as if she wanted to make sure he was watching. Alex couldn’t have looked away if he tried. And, by the smug little grin on her pretty mouth, she knew it.

Yeah. He definitely liked the change. Trouble was dangerously fascinating.

But at the same time, her transition was so swift and so complete, he had to question it. Besides, the last thing he needed was to get involved with a possible suspect. Internal Affairs would just love that.

He swept his gaze around the restaurant, cataloguing faces as he scanned the diners. He saw Rogelio Braga approach the bar across the veranda with two other men. One he recognized as a known trafficker from the hot sheets at the Miami office, but he didn’t know the third.

He looked back at Meghan.

Maybe he’d jumped to conclusions. Her conversation with Braga could have been as innocent as she’d made out. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Either way, Alex intended to hold on to her journal for a while longer. It was the best way to find out who she really was.

He’d also ask his partner to do a background check. He had to know if she was involved with the Miami cartel. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Something about her touched him on a level he’d almost forgotten existed. His interest was personal.

4

My whole body, my whole being, is on fire for his touch. I am overcome by need, ripe with longing for a man I’ve never met before and don’t intend to see again.

“GOOD EVENING, Miss Meghan. Good evening, sir.”

The maitre d’ of Breezes welcomed them as they approached the entrance. He led them toward an intimate table overlooking the Gulf. “Enjoy your meal.”

She started to sit, but Nick took her arm. Her skin tingled at his touch and she turned her head to look up at him. He seemed distracted and an odd expression crossed his face, one she couldn’t interpret.

“Is something wrong?”

He smiled, but his gaze still focused over her shoulder as he maneuvered her to the opposite chair. “You’ll have a better view of the water from here.”

She still didn’t have his full attention. How was she supposed to seduce him if he wouldn’t look at her? When he took his seat, she tried another “Elise move.” She leaned back in her chair, resting her left elbow on the arm. Her fingers skimmed across her collarbone, back and forth.

She had all of his attention now. The look in his light green eyes could only be described as penetrating, his expression a heady blend of fascination and desire. Knowing that Nick wanted her sent a jolt of excitement through her. She felt powerful, feminine, wildly erotic.

She watched Nick watching her. His gaze slowly roamed her body, pausing on her breasts. She wondered if he was undressing her with his eyes. Arousal warmed her skin and sent pulses of desire throughout her body. She met his grin with a confident smile of her own.

If he were to undress her now, he’d discover her delicious secret. She shifted on her chair, uncrossing her ankles to enjoy the slide of one bare leg against the other. The change of position made her intensely aware of her new thong panties.

With a quiet intake of breath, she imagined Nick’s fingertips delving under the satin edge, stroking her damp flesh… Heat rushed to her cheeks as she took a sip of her water, hoping to cool off.

“You’re staring at me, Nick.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Grinning in smug delight, she basked in the discovery of her new appeal. Maybe clothes did make the woman. She’d traded her glasses for contact lenses and styled her hair into soft ringlets. Julie’s skillfully applied cosmetics emphasized her eyes and transformed her lips into a sultry pout. Meghan almost hadn’t recognized herself in the mirror.

The dress she’d borrowed had looked so sweet and breezy hanging in the closet. Its pale-pink color and flared skirt seemed too innocent for seduction. Julie had smirked, then convinced her to try it on.

Ooh, baby.

“Do you like what you see?”

“You know I do, Trouble.”

The waiter came back to take their orders. Nick asked for a manly portion of red meat and potatoes while she chose the prawns in beurre blanc with wild mushroom risotto. She couldn’t help but giggle over their choice of entrees. Opposites did attract. The pivotal question was, would they wrinkle the sheets anytime soon?

Nick rested his elbows on the table and laced his fingers. He tilted his head, regarding her with an attentive expression and a raised eyebrow. “So tell me more about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned back, dropping her hands to her lap. The whole point of acting out her fantasies was to keep things impersonal. If they knew too much about each other, it might cause complications at the end of the week.

“Where’s the fun in knowing everything? There won’t be any secrets or surprises left to discover.”

A shadow crossed his features, darkened his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to settle for whatever you reveal.”

“I’m five-feet eight-inches tall. I refuse to tell you my weight.” She batted her lashes.

“Fascinating.” His tone of voice belied the word. “I’m more interested in whether you’re seeing anyone, if you have plans for tomorrow and whether you sleep in the nude.”

She smiled at the waiter who brought her salad before turning her attention back to Nick. “Not involved. No plans. Not telling.”

“You’re on vacation. Why not try something different, something you’ve never done before?” His voice was rich with challenge, low and sexy.

Meghan drew in a quick breath. Was she that obvious? If so, seducing Nick would be easier than she’d thought. “I’d love to be adventurous. Do you have any ideas?”

“How about joining me for a tour of the Dry Tortugas? The national park is supposed to have great snorkeling.”

Snorkeling? Unless it was a new euphemism for sex, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “Um, sure. That sounds fun.”

“Is there something else you want to do instead?”

She hesitated. Did she dare mention it? Elise would. “My sister told me there’s a nude beach on the southwest shore.”

“I prefer to show my body to only one woman at a time, thanks. I sleep naked, though, in case you wondered.”

What a visual. Nick’s long, lean body stretched across a white sheet wearing only a fine gloss of sweat…

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She tried to match his casual tone but the catch in her voice betrayed her interest. Had it been this hot a minute ago? She took another sip of her wine.

“On the other hand, you don’t strike me as the au naturel type. I’ll bet you sleep in one of those lace things I saw in your luggage.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Meghan shot him a coy glance from under her lashes and wriggled her brows.

He flashed her the friendly-sexy grin. “Want to play the Fashion Model and the Photographer?”

She laughed, her fork paused in midair. “What’s with you and the theme games?”

“A guy can dream.”

“Dream on, Nick.” She lowered her voice, made her tone alluring, and changed a phrase that was normally a rebuff into an invitation.

It seemed she’d found a guy who liked fantasies almost as much as she. Could he be any more perfect? Nick was definitely her Mr. Fabulous. All she had to do was find the right time to mention her plan.

“You have salad dressing on your mouth, Meghan. Want me to get it for you?”

“No, but thanks for offering.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he shifted around in his seat as he watched her lick the drop of Creamy Italian from her lip. She really wanted to be licking his lips. And neck and chest and stomach and… And if she didn’t stop picturing him naked she was going to explode right here and now.

“Okay, Trouble. Quit holding out on me and get personal.”

She wanted to get personal all right. But not about her snuggly flannel pajamas. “I usually just sleep in my panties.”

“Which panties? The tiny little blue ones with—?”

“Start talking, Nick. I’m not going to be the only one playing True Confessions. Where’s the most unusual place you ever had sex? Do you self-indulge in bed or the shower? How do you like to—?”

“Hold it.” He looked a little shocked. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to be so blunt. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Chicken.”

“Fine. I once had sex in a stalled elevator for two hours.”

Her pulse quickened and she reminded herself to breathe. One of the entries in her diary involved an elevator, a strange man and a melting pint of ice cream. “You were stuck for two hours or had sex for two hours?”

“Sex for two hours. Impressed?”

“That depends. Are you bragging or flirting?”

He turned his smile up a notch, a cocky expression on his handsome face. His smoke-roughened voice dropped to a purr of sound. “There’re two things I do well, darlin’. And flirting is the other one.”

Omigod. Now it was really hot. Well, she could flirt too. She slipped off her right sandal and crossed her legs at the knee. She wiggled her foot until it came in contact with his ankle. Nick shifted as though it had been an accident, so she did it again, this time rubbing her toes along his shin.

His beautiful green eyes issued an invitation from their smoldering depths. Her heart fluttered and a sweet tingling pressure bubbled in her belly.

“Seems like there’s a storm brewing.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“It might be the right time for that rain check.”

She grinned at his reference to the rain check for seeing her in the red lace panties, then lied through her teeth. “I’m not the least bit wet…”

“Watch out. Some men would take that as a challenge.”

“Some men might not be up to the challenge.”

“I consider myself a man who’s outstanding in that regard.”

Meghan rested her chin on clasped hands, looking him over slowly. “That’s a very healthy ego you’ve got, Nick.”

“I also have very healthy…appetites.”

The sensual hunger his voice conveyed sent a rush of need straight between her thighs. All of her senses were aroused, making her hyperaware of the gorgeous male sitting across from her. Ask him. Just come right out and ask him.

A dark form caught her attention and she turned to see the maitre d’. He apologized for the intrusion before leaning down to murmur in Nick’s ear.

“Now?” His brows drew together and the corners of his mouth turned down. He cursed under his breath in annoyance. “Thank you.”

“What’s the matter?” She stared in amazement and her sexual anticipation evaporated like mist. The charming man she’d been talking to had vanished before her eyes. A stranger with tight features and a hard voice sat in his place.

“Nick?”

He looked up as if she’d startled him. He glanced over her shoulder, still frowning, then his expression cleared. “I’m sorry, Meghan. There’s some business I’ve got to take care of.”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation, too.”

“A working vacation, remember? I’m here at the request of an important client. Since he’s footing the bill, I can’t ignore him—as much as I’d like to.”

“Do you have to leave right now? You haven’t eaten yet.” It was a lame attempt to keep him there and they both knew it.

He pasted on a smile but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry. This can’t wait. I’ll see you later, I promise.”

Hugging her arms about her waist, Meghan watched him walk away. Her fantasy deserted her with every step he took. This was hardly the way she’d imagined the night would end. She glanced around the restaurant. Everyone was probably snickering at the pitiful woman who’d been dumped by her date.

So much for being a Sex Goddess in Training.

ALEX SLAMMED THE DOOR of his suite behind FBI Special Agent Emelio Sanchez, his partner since being assigned to the Special Operations Division and his best friend since college.

Emelio tossed a handful of cashews into his mouth as he walked into the living room. “You’re pissed because I interrupted some dinner date? Meantime, I had to raid the minibar for a meal.” He rolled his eyes as he sank into an armchair and planted his heels on the coffee table.

Yeah, he was pissed. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so completely fascinated by a woman. “This had better be good.”

“It is good, man. I just got word that Frankie Ramos’s yacht, the Cielo Blanco, is docked over on Key West.”

Alex stopped pacing and bared his teeth in a feral grin. “So, Braga’s boss finally surfaced. Excellent.”

“Well, the boat’s here. He’s not on it.”

“What? Where is he?”

Emelio scowled and ducked his head. “We’re not sure yet.”

The image of Meghan’s face filled his mind, followed by an image of that body in that dress. “Great, partner. My dinner’s cold and my date is probably colder. You dragged me up here for—”

“I dragged you up here because Easton wants you to call him. Pronto, if not sooner, and I’m quoting.” Brent Easton was their direct supervisor at the SOD. He was also a demanding son of a bitch.

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