Hands On

His breath was warm and sweet and the kiss surprisingly tender, and for an instant she forgot she was being assaulted. When she finally gathered enough wits about her to try to bite him, he was too quick and eluded her.

His withdrawal gave her the opportunity to call for the bartender. She sucked in a much-needed breath but before she could yell, he whispered, “Wait. I can explain.”

Their eyes met. He had incredibly persuasive warm brown eyes. “Let go of me,” Cassie demanded.

He hesitated, his dark brows slightly furrowed. “Sorry, I can’t do that,” he said, and then startled her by picking her up and cradling her to his chest. “I’ll be back to settle up, Jerry. The wife and me need to talk outside.”

“The hell—”

He silenced her with his mouth, using his tongue to ensure her cooperation as he carried her toward the front door. The bartender winked and waved a hand. They passed the guy who’d walked in a moment ago. He watched them with mild interest, and no inclination to get involved. He looked just like the picture she had of Robert Bask.

The realization subdued her for the moment as her thoughts scrambled. This Neanderthal in a Stetson had just blown her cover. Bask thought she was married. But maybe that didn’t matter to someone like him…

They got outside and panic started to rise again. She twisted her body, and he lost his hold. She started to go down fanny first, but he caught her and set her on her feet.

She stumbled backward. “Stay away from me.”

He put his hands up, palms out. “It’s not what you think. I’m a federal investigator.”

“A what?” She stared in disbelief.

“With the Attorney General’s office.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

She took another step back. “Don’t move or I’ll scream loud enough to have half the county come running.”

His left brow rose in amusement. “I hope you weren’t counting on the half in there.”

“I scream and you wanna bet those boys come running?”

He sobered. “I’m reaching into my pocket to get my badge, okay?”

She let out a shaky breath. “You have two seconds.”

He promptly withdrew a small leather case, and then flipped it open. One side had a gold badge, the other a picture ID.

“What’s your interest in Robert Bask?”

Cassie stared at the badge. It looked authentic enough, and the picture matched. His name was J. Dalton Styles. She looked up into his dark probing eyes. “I don’t care who you are, or who you work for. You had no right manhandling me that way.”

His lips lifted in a smirk. “Manhandling?”

“That’s right,” she said, and slapped him across the face so hard her palm stung. “Now, we’re even.”

2

“WHAT THE HELL did you do that for?” Dalton rubbed his stinging cheek. The woman was a lunatic.

“You have to ask?”

“Obviously.”

“The only thing obvious to me is that our government had better add manners and etiquette to their training programs.”

He made a face. She had a great body, pretty face and slight southern accent that would ordinarily inspire thoughts of satin sheets and a good bottle of wine. But the woman was clearly a nut. “What does the government have to do with anything?”

“You work for them, don’t you?”

“Ah, Christ, don’t— Hey—” He grabbed her arm when she tried to leave. “This is serious. I need to know what your interest in Bask is.”

“I’m a private detective.”

“I know, but why are you after Bask?”

“What do you mean you know?”

Dalton darted a look toward the bar. No one had come outside but there were two windows from where they could be watched. “I checked you out. Your name is Cassie York and you work for Madison Investigations.”

Her blue eyes widened. “You couldn’t have known that.”

He shrugged. “Okay, so I don’t know about that. Tell me about Bask.”

“I meant, that quick. You couldn’t have checked me out. You—” She glared, her face turning pink. “Have you been following me?”

“Never laid eyes on you before today.” Damn, he didn’t want to admit he’d broken into her car. No telling what she’d do. “Look, we don’t have much time.”

She folded her arms across her nicely rounded chest producing a fair amount of tempting cleavage. “Tough.”

He bit back a curse. “Do you believe I’m a federal marshal?”

She blinked, and uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “Well, I did, but maybe I shouldn’t.”

Christ Almighty. “You saw my badge. The point is you’ve got to trust me.”

“Why?”

“Because Bask is scum, and you obviously want him just like I do.”

“Why do you say he’s scum? What’s he done to get your attention?”

“Can we discuss this later?” He glanced toward the bar door. “Before you blow this case?”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Me? I’m not the one who picked you up and kissed you.” Her face got pink again, and she swiped nervously at her hair.

“Shit!”

“There’s no need to swear.”

“Someone’s coming out of the bar.” He breathed a sigh of relief. It was one of the guys who’d been playing pool. “It’s not Bask. But you know damn well we’re being watched.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Dalton took the opportunity to check out her goods. But he wasn’t fast enough to get away with it.

She gave him a dirty look and pulled up her neckline. “I’m undercover.”

“Ah.”

Indignation made her eyes round and incredibly blue. “I’m supposed to be bait.”

He nodded, annoyed with himself. “Sure, you’re working for the wife. I should’ve figured that out.”

“I didn’t say that. I can’t tell you who I’m working for.”

“Look, Cassie, wouldn’t it make sense to work together?” he said desperately. He was so close. Days away from finally collaring this guy. And now he had to bargain with this nutty blonde.

She moistened her peach-tinted lips and furrowed her brows. “Work together how?”

Nutty, but damn pretty. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to use her. Bask would jump at the bait. “I don’t know. I gotta figure it out.”

She rubbed her arms with misgiving and nibbled at her lower lip. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought she was trying to make him crazy. Her lips were perfectly shaped, perfect fullness, and even when she wasn’t returning a kiss…

He promptly derailed his thoughts. He didn’t need his jeans getting all tight and uncomfortable. Besides, he had some fast thinking to do and that meant blood needed to flow up and not down.

“Look,” he said in a low coaxing voice. “At this point, our chances are much better if we work together, however necessary.”

The indecision vanished from her face. “By ‘at this point’ you must be referring to the mess you made in there.”

He gritted his teeth, and then forced a smile. “Right.”

With a smug curve to her lips, she said, “Okay, I’ll work with you as long as it’s not anything—weird.”

“Define weird.”

Concern darkened her face.

“Only kidding.” He checked the door again. All clear. “Well, we can’t shake on it. We’re supposed to be married. Couples who’ve just made up usually…” he shrugged and tried to keep a straight face “…kiss.”

She gave him an unexpectedly sweet smile. “Or maybe we haven’t made up. Maybe I’m still angry with you. I could slap your face again.”

He reflexively touched his cheek. It still stung. “I’ll pass.”

Regret briefly clouded her eyes. “What do we do now? Go back in? Wait for him to leave?”

The decision was taken out of their hands. Bask stepped outside, stopped to put on his sunglasses, and then looked their way.

“Show time.”

“What?” Cassie started to turn around.

He grabbed her hands and forced her to face him. “Bask is headed this way. Talk. We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Married stuff.”

“Oh, so we should keep arguing then.”

He snorted. Obviously she’d been married before. “Follow my lead, okay?”

She hesitated, and then gave a curt nod.

Bask had gotten within a few yards. Dalton pulled her closer and slid his hands around her waist. “Baby, you want to make this marriage work, don’t you?”

“Frankly, I’m not sure anymore.” She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

He hauled her against him. “Come on, baby, we’re good together. Think about what you’d miss.”

She let out a dismissive laugh. “Not much, lately.”

He reminded himself this was only playacting. Nothing personal. “Then let me refresh your memory.” He slanted his mouth over hers and used her startled gasp to his advantage.

His tongue easily slid between her lips. At first she tensed, and then she opened more to him, her tongue tentatively touching his. She tasted like cherries and oranges and soft feminine mystique. Her soft full breasts pushed against his chest and one of her hands flattened over his chest.

She let out a soft whimper, and Dalton dove deeper, sliding his hands over her bottom and pulling her harder against his straining fly.

Someone cleared his throat.

Bask.

Shit! Dalton had forgotten about him.

He retreated slowly and met Cassie’s glazed eyes. “Did that help your memory, honey?”

She blinked, the fingers of the hand on his chest curling, her nails digging into him. Fire chased the daze look in her eyes. “This is what I’m supposed to miss?” Her breathlessness seemed to anger her more.

Made him smile.

“Bastard,” she whispered.

Bask cleared his throat again. “Excuse me, folks.”

They both looked at him. Cassie did a good job of pretending she didn’t know he was there. Her eyes widened and her cheeks got pink.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Bask said, the megawatt smile that had netted him illegal millions in place. “But I couldn’t help overhearing you two in the bar.”

“Yeah, so?” Dalton gave the guy a challenging glare.

Bask’s smile didn’t waver. “I may be able to help.”

“Mind your own business, pal.” Dalton turned away from him to look at Cassie.

She jerked away from him. “You don’t have to be rude to the man. After all, you did cause a scene he couldn’t help but overhear.”

“I caused a scene?”

“Too bad you didn’t inherit your mama’s manners as well as her money.”

Dalton forced back a surprised smile. She was good. “You leave my mama out of this. You never complain about the cushy lifestyle she’s provided for you.”

“You’re right. My only complaint is you.” She lifted her chin, turned back to Bask, and gave him a sugary sweet smile. “I must apologize for my husband’s rudeness. Please. You were saying?”

Bask homed in on her receptiveness. His body language even changed subtly. He angled toward Cassie and maintained eye contact, even mirroring a couple of her movements, a trick to further put her at ease. The guy was slick. No doubt about it.

“I’d like to give you my business card.” He plucked one out of the leather billfold he withdrew from his blue Armani sports coat. “My name is Robert Blankenship and I own Back to Basics.”

Before he could actually hand the card off to her, Dalton snatched it out of his hand. “I’ll take that.”

Cassie made a sound of disapproval.

“Actually, I was planning on giving you each one.” Bask presented her with a card and a wide smile, showing off his expensive caps.

“Thank you.” She gave Dalton a withering look, and then her gaze lowered to the card.

He’d already read it. Back to Basics was a marriage encounter resort. Bask promoted himself as the facilitator.

What a gig. Dalton had to admit the guy had smarts. How many rich, unhappy divorcées ended up crying on his shoulder while he emptied their pockets?

Cassie looked up at Bask, her blue eyes narrowed in confusion. Her lips formed this cute little pout that could distract a man from his objective if he weren’t careful.

“I don’t understand how this could help us.” She looked from Bask to Dalton. “What do you do at one of these things?”

Dalton couldn’t tell if she really didn’t know or if she was acting. He didn’t say anything but instead watched Bask spin his web.

“Well, there are usually five couples who go on a kind of retreat for a week. There would be one facilitator there, which would be me, and my assistant who would help guide you through the exercises.”

“We’re not going on any damn retreat, or doing any exercises. Come on, Cass.” Dalton grabbed her arm and tried to steer her away.

She reacted perfectly by jerking away from him. “Did you not just minutes ago say you wanted to save our marriage?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then I suggest you shut up and listen to the man.” She turned back to Bask. “Again, I’m sorry. Please go on.”

Dalton scrubbed the side of his jaw to hide his amusement. She was really getting into this role, especially when she got to blast him.

“No problem.” Bask gave them a combined smile, patronizing and annoying as hell. “I encounter this type of situation all the time. Either the husband or wife, but frankly mostly the husband, is resistant to any kind of therapy.”

Dalton groaned. “Therapy.”

Cassie gave him a dirty look.

Bask held up a hand. “Let me finish. Once I explain how our method for exploring and stimulating the relationship works, the husband usually comes around.”

Dalton glanced at his watch. “You have two minutes.”

“We believe that we must address all aspects of the union—spiritual, intellectual and physical. There is a beautiful meditation garden on the premises, a spa and pool and of course the physical contact can be done in private or anywhere for the less inhibited. All group sessions are—”

“Hold it.” Dalton’s interest peaked. “What do you mean by physical contact?”

Cassie’s interest was obviously aroused, as well. She watched Bask with wide anxious eyes.

He shrugged. “Physical contact can mean anything from massaging each other to sexual relations.”

Cassie coughed. “In public?”

“That’s entirely up to you.” Bask produced a reassuring smile. “Of course most couples prefer the privacy of their rooms.”

“Now, you’re talking.” Dalton made a show of studying the card. “You just might be hearing from us, Mr. Blankenship.”

Cassie opened her mouth to say something but her expression warned Dalton to cut the conversation short. He threw an arm around her shoulders and kissed her open mouth.

She sputtered.

Dalton gave Bask a leave-the-little-woman-to-me wink. Bask nodded and headed toward the dark blue Mercedes.

“Dammit!” Cassie shoved at Dalton’s shoulder when he wouldn’t release her.

“Now just calm down. Wait until he leaves before you start kicking up a fuss.”

“What I’m going to kick is your behind.”

“Fine. After he leaves.” Dalton furtively watched him climb into the car. The windows were so heavily tinted he couldn’t see the guy. But Dalton figured he was watching them, assessing what sort of candidates they’d make for whatever scheme he’d concocted.

“The hell with that. I’m leaving.”

Dalton grabbed her when she tried to go.

“Ouch!”

“I didn’t hurt you.”

Cassie’s lips did that little pouty thing, and she rubbed the area around the wrist that he held. “Yes, you did. You’re still hurting me.”

He didn’t believe it, but he promptly released her. Her smile had “sucker” written all over it. “Trying to make me kiss you again?”

The grin was instantly replaced with a glare. “Dream on.”

“It seems that’s the only way I get any cooperation out of you,” Dalton said, distracted by Bask pulling out of the parking stall and onto the street. “There he goes. Smug bastard.”

“We finally agree on something.” Cassie stared after the car as it made a turn and disappeared.

“At least I know where I can find him.” Dalton studied the card. “Marriage counseling. Pretty friggin’ smart.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “I guess now you make a call and then go arrest him, huh?”

He looked up in disbelief and stared at her. Obviously she didn’t get it. “Not exactly.”

She stuck her hands in the pocket of her black jeans. They were so tight he didn’t know how she had room for her hands, much less the rock she had on her left ring finger. “What did he do, anyway? I mean, I can pretty much guess but— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That ring you have on your finger, are you married?”

She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. “I borrowed it from our client.”

“Think she’ll lend it to you for another week?”

“Why?”

He looked at the card again. “Do you know how friggin’ perfect this is?”

“Why?” she repeated, concern raising her voice.

“Why what?”

“Knock it off, Styles. I want a straight answer.”

“Oh, honey.” He slid an arm around her and smiled. “If we’re going to be married, you’re gonna have to call me Dalton.”

3

CASSIE SLAPPED at the nightstand, trying to find the alarm. The buzzer screamed relentlessly, until she finally opened one eye and shut the darn thing off.

She checked the time, blinking twice to clear the foggy blur…two-thirty.

Sunlight streamed through her apartment blinds. Okay, so it was afternoon. She knew that.

Yawning and stretching, she tried to focus on the ceiling. Afternoon naps were a rarity for her, but after two sleepless nights she hadn’t had much choice. Especially with her big adventure coming up in…

She glanced at the clock again—two-thirty-two. She groaned and rolled over to the edge of the bed. Dalton was picking her up in an hour and a half, and she hadn’t even packed yet. Not that she had to take much—T-shirts, shorts, jeans, maybe one casual dress.

Darn it, but she wished she’d talked to Bask herself and not had to rely on Dalton for information about the week they’d spend at Back to Basics. She’d actually tried calling Bask herself after talking to Dalton, but all she got was a recording.

Dalton Styles. The proverbial tall, dark and handsome, with his sable-brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes. And sexy as all get-out with that strong chin that needed a shave. And holy cow! What a kisser!

She exhaled and shoved off the bed, thinking about how hot and insistent his mouth had been two days ago. More than one dream about him picking her up and carrying her away had messed with her sleep.

Good thing he annoyed the hell out of her or the next week would be impossible.

She got out the duffel bag she’d used during her college days. After four years of college plus another one in graduate school before she’d called it quits, the bag had taken a beating. Certainly not appropriate luggage for Mrs. Dalton Styles III. Maybe she ought to make him spring for a pricey Louis Vuitton garment bag.

The thought made her smile. Let him try to bury that in his expense account.

She didn’t smile for long. The luggage really was a problem. And since she’d been so busy working and hadn’t taken many trips, she hadn’t needed anything more. But of course, now that she was a full-fledged investigator, she’d probably have more out-of-town assignments.

The idea warmed her. The traveling part, she could honestly do without. She was Texas born and bred, and she liked it here just fine. But that she was actually flying solo now, and not just working as Chet’s assistant, forced to play the dumb blonde when it suited his case, made her giddy with excitement.

The phone interrupted her musings and she stared at it with the oddest combination of dread and disappointment. Was it Dalton? Had plans changed?

After it rang two more times, she snatched it up before the answering machine came on. “Hello?”

“Cassie, it’s Jennifer.”

Cassie cringed. She’d left a message for her boss this morning, hoping she wouldn’t get it until after Cassie was gone. “Hey, Jen.”

“This message you left me about Marianne’s case… I don’t think I understand it.”

Cassie sighed. “You probably do. I’m going undercover.”

Jennifer laughed. “What do you mean ‘undercover’?”

That hurt. Of course Jen didn’t mean anything. She’d probably laughed because the strange turn of events was so unexpected. Jennifer had confidence in her. She wasn’t like Chet or any of the others who overlooked Cassie as another pretty but not-so-bright blonde.

“Yesterday Bask showed up at the bar.”

“Great. Did he pass the test, or what?”

“More like, or what. The Feds are after him.”

“As in FBI?”

“I ran into a federal investigator who’s been following Bask. He was afraid I’d blow his investigation so he…” Cassie touched the corner of her mouth. Dalton’s kiss still burned on her lips. Stupid. Absolutely crazy to give it a second thought. The man was impossible.

“Cassie, are you there?”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “He ended up sabotaging my sting.”

“Okay, let’s back up. Why is he after Bask?”

“For fraud, basically, except they haven’t been able to prove anything yet.”

“It doesn’t matter as far as we’re concerned. I know Marianne. That he’s under suspicion will be enough for her to cut him loose. Her attorney can take it from here. Congratulations! I believe you’ve just successfully closed your first case.”

“Wait, I—” Words failed her. Her thoughts were in a sudden jumble stewed with panic and disappointment. “It’s not that simple. I can’t tell Marianne what I know and blow Dalton’s case.”

“Dalton? He’s the investigator.”

“Frankly, he’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t feel right messing up his assignment.”

There was a long pause, and then Jennifer said, “You wouldn’t have to. Marianne and her attorney can be discrete while divorce papers are filed and this guy wraps up his case.”

Cassie walked with the remote phone to the kitchen for something to drink. Her mouth was suddenly drier than the Sahara. “Except without me, there won’t be a case.”

“For goodness sakes, why not?”

“See…this is confidential, okay? No telling Marianne.”

“Of course not.” Jen sounded annoyed.

In the background, the baby started to cry.

“Oops!” Jen cooed something to her daughter. “Cassie, could you hold on a minute?”

“Sure.” Gladly. Saved by little Annie. She needed a minute to organize her thoughts.

She poured herself a glass of water but eyed the bottle of chardonnay she’d had in the fridge for God knew how long. Her nerves were shot and she hadn’t even officially started her role as Mrs. Dalton Styles yet.

Why wasn’t she dancing a jig at the thought of getting out of this assignment? Thrilled at the thought of being able to tell that pompous ass to find some other patsy to play his wife?

Oh, heck, there were a lot of reasons. How much more anticlimactic could her first case be? However, if she were to help Dalton, wouldn’t that be good for the agency? Once Bask was arrested, the local news would surely pick up the story.

Due to her pregnancy, Jennifer had had to turn down business. One of the cases had to do with following and baiting a suspected philanderer. The wife who’d tried to hire the agency had been most unhappy that her case was denied. She’d accused Jen of all sorts of things from being a reverse sexist to an elitist who thought infidelity cases were beneath her.

News of the agency’s success would absolve them. And then of course, there was Chet. He’d see that Cassie had done a bang-up job all by herself. When he came crawling to her to work for him again, she’d tell him to kiss off.

“I’m back. Sorry.” Jennifer laughed softly.

Cassie smiled wistfully. Jen loved being a mom and that job always came first. All her detectives knew and respected that about their boss. Cassie wondered if her turn would ever come. Would she have a baby in her arms to coo to and kiss and cuddle?

Sometimes she thought that would never happen. Most of the guys she knew were still in party mode, into the bar-hopping scene, trying to stretch out another year of college so their parents would continue to foot their bills. A few were okay, just young and uncertain about the future, but a lot of them were jerks. Like Dalton Styles.