Trace of Fever
Page 49
She was right, of course. And astute. “When you live your life as Murray does, trust is a hard commodity to find.”
“What about the life you live?”
Unwilling to go into that with her, Trace shook his head. He could count on his fingers the number of people he trusted, and so far, she wasn’t one of them. “You think fast on your feet. That was a smooth story you told.”
She shrugged, but some sad truth sent her eyes downcast.
Had her life involved a lot of lies? From what he knew after her background check, she hadn’t attended public schools or held a job outside of the p**n shop.
He had his suspicions of course, and most of them centered on the relationship her mother must have had with Murray. Eventually, Priss would tell him everything. And in the meantime, he’d left it up to Dare to do more digging.
“Will you be able to remember that twisted tale, to keep your story straight?”
Long lashes lifted and she stared up at him. “What do you think?”
He thought her ability for slick manipulation made her beyond suspect, and yet, at that moment, it didn’t matter.
Trace stepped closer, close enough that he felt the warmth of her small body and sensed her trembling anticipation. “I’m going to kiss you, Priss.”
Slowly, Priss nodded. “And you know what?” Her attention dropped to his mouth. “I’m going to let you.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE KISS LINGERED UNTIL Trace knew he had to end it or else find a room. If he did that, he’d be late getting back to Murray, because a quickie with Priss would never satisfy him. Sure, it’d take the edge off, but what he really wanted was to linger with her, to spend his time sating them both. Soon, he told himself.
When the timing was right.
Responsibility had never felt so heavy.
“You, Priscilla Patterson, are a mighty distraction.”
“I never was before.” She put her forehead to his sternum. “But I’m glad I am now. Truth is, I need the distraction as much as you apparently do.”
“Worried?” He smoothed her hair again. He couldn’t wait to feel it on his bare skin. They were moving at the speed of light, and the circumstances weren’t exactly conducive to seduction, but that didn’t seem to matter. The chemistry was there, taking over, driving them both, and he felt defenseless against it. Against her.
“Just wondering about something.” She levered back. “Murray doesn’t trace the calls?”
Leading her toward a bar stool, Trace shook his head. “I have a router on the phone. He can’t.”
“Ah. Clever.” She studied him. “So you and Dare run a high-tech operation, as I suspected. I can’t see you guys running to the local security warehouse and picking up run-of-the-mill routers. So is it the same type of device a government official might use?”
Avoiding the questions, Trace picked up the platter of sandwiches. “You need to eat.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I need to stop trusting you so much, at least until you start to reciprocate a little.”
“You’ve been trusting me?” He gave her a long look. “Could’ve fooled me.” Hell, it felt like she fought him at every opportunity.
Propping her chin on a fist, Priss sighed. “Like I said, it needs to be reciprocated. And until then, I’m not accepting any food or drinks from you or your cohorts.”
“They’re friends, not cohorts.”
“Even Dare? And what about this Jackson person?”
Trace was about to chide her for constantly trying to pry, but everyone filed back into the kitchen.
Matt said, “I need to go. I have other appointments today.” Without a single ounce of hesitation, he cupped Priss’s shoulders, drew her forward, and gave her a smacking kiss right on her slightly parted lips.
It was a toss-up who was more surprised, Priss or Trace. Priss blinked rapidly, Trace snarled and Chris laughed at them both.
“I enjoyed working with you, Priss. You were more than entertaining, and a font of information on all things kinky.”
Trace narrowed his eyes. Was Matt trying to rile him? All things kinky? Just what the hell had they discussed? “What does that mean, Matt?”
“She schooled us on the p**n marketplace. Very informative.” After a meaningful glance at Trace, he turned back to Priss. “I hope to see you again.”
She went still, unsure what to say. Trace filled in the silence. “Did you want to bill me, or get paid now?”
“I almost hate to charge, it was all so fascinating.”
Trace growled. “But you will.”
Grinning, Matt said, “Yes.” As he turned away, he added, “I’ll get something in the mail to Dare. He can pass it along to you. I certainly trust you.”
Matt’s emphasis meant that Priss didn’t trust him—not that Trace needed a reminder of that.
Chris walked out with Matt, and Molly again tried to get Priss to eat.
“Why is everyone playing my nursemaid? It’s not like I’m emaciated or fainting from hunger.” She refused the food. “Thanks anyway, Molly, but I’m not going to starve.”
Annoyed, Trace stalked off.
Priss turned on her seat. “Where are you going?” And then with a touch of alarm, “Are you leaving without me?”
He stopped, flexed his hands a few times, and pivoted to pace right back to her. “I would not leave you here.”
“What about the life you live?”
Unwilling to go into that with her, Trace shook his head. He could count on his fingers the number of people he trusted, and so far, she wasn’t one of them. “You think fast on your feet. That was a smooth story you told.”
She shrugged, but some sad truth sent her eyes downcast.
Had her life involved a lot of lies? From what he knew after her background check, she hadn’t attended public schools or held a job outside of the p**n shop.
He had his suspicions of course, and most of them centered on the relationship her mother must have had with Murray. Eventually, Priss would tell him everything. And in the meantime, he’d left it up to Dare to do more digging.
“Will you be able to remember that twisted tale, to keep your story straight?”
Long lashes lifted and she stared up at him. “What do you think?”
He thought her ability for slick manipulation made her beyond suspect, and yet, at that moment, it didn’t matter.
Trace stepped closer, close enough that he felt the warmth of her small body and sensed her trembling anticipation. “I’m going to kiss you, Priss.”
Slowly, Priss nodded. “And you know what?” Her attention dropped to his mouth. “I’m going to let you.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE KISS LINGERED UNTIL Trace knew he had to end it or else find a room. If he did that, he’d be late getting back to Murray, because a quickie with Priss would never satisfy him. Sure, it’d take the edge off, but what he really wanted was to linger with her, to spend his time sating them both. Soon, he told himself.
When the timing was right.
Responsibility had never felt so heavy.
“You, Priscilla Patterson, are a mighty distraction.”
“I never was before.” She put her forehead to his sternum. “But I’m glad I am now. Truth is, I need the distraction as much as you apparently do.”
“Worried?” He smoothed her hair again. He couldn’t wait to feel it on his bare skin. They were moving at the speed of light, and the circumstances weren’t exactly conducive to seduction, but that didn’t seem to matter. The chemistry was there, taking over, driving them both, and he felt defenseless against it. Against her.
“Just wondering about something.” She levered back. “Murray doesn’t trace the calls?”
Leading her toward a bar stool, Trace shook his head. “I have a router on the phone. He can’t.”
“Ah. Clever.” She studied him. “So you and Dare run a high-tech operation, as I suspected. I can’t see you guys running to the local security warehouse and picking up run-of-the-mill routers. So is it the same type of device a government official might use?”
Avoiding the questions, Trace picked up the platter of sandwiches. “You need to eat.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I need to stop trusting you so much, at least until you start to reciprocate a little.”
“You’ve been trusting me?” He gave her a long look. “Could’ve fooled me.” Hell, it felt like she fought him at every opportunity.
Propping her chin on a fist, Priss sighed. “Like I said, it needs to be reciprocated. And until then, I’m not accepting any food or drinks from you or your cohorts.”
“They’re friends, not cohorts.”
“Even Dare? And what about this Jackson person?”
Trace was about to chide her for constantly trying to pry, but everyone filed back into the kitchen.
Matt said, “I need to go. I have other appointments today.” Without a single ounce of hesitation, he cupped Priss’s shoulders, drew her forward, and gave her a smacking kiss right on her slightly parted lips.
It was a toss-up who was more surprised, Priss or Trace. Priss blinked rapidly, Trace snarled and Chris laughed at them both.
“I enjoyed working with you, Priss. You were more than entertaining, and a font of information on all things kinky.”
Trace narrowed his eyes. Was Matt trying to rile him? All things kinky? Just what the hell had they discussed? “What does that mean, Matt?”
“She schooled us on the p**n marketplace. Very informative.” After a meaningful glance at Trace, he turned back to Priss. “I hope to see you again.”
She went still, unsure what to say. Trace filled in the silence. “Did you want to bill me, or get paid now?”
“I almost hate to charge, it was all so fascinating.”
Trace growled. “But you will.”
Grinning, Matt said, “Yes.” As he turned away, he added, “I’ll get something in the mail to Dare. He can pass it along to you. I certainly trust you.”
Matt’s emphasis meant that Priss didn’t trust him—not that Trace needed a reminder of that.
Chris walked out with Matt, and Molly again tried to get Priss to eat.
“Why is everyone playing my nursemaid? It’s not like I’m emaciated or fainting from hunger.” She refused the food. “Thanks anyway, Molly, but I’m not going to starve.”
Annoyed, Trace stalked off.
Priss turned on her seat. “Where are you going?” And then with a touch of alarm, “Are you leaving without me?”
He stopped, flexed his hands a few times, and pivoted to pace right back to her. “I would not leave you here.”
