Marco sauntered forward, his eyes dark, the set of his mouth arrogant. He stopped beside her, again looking her up and down with penetrating eyes, lazy and slow, in his perusal.

“Shut the door, cherie,” he ordered in a soft, authoritative voice that was both deep and seductive. “What is between us is not for de neighbors eyes.” He ran his finger slowly down the middle of her cle**age. “ Tres belle,” he said before stepping forward, and leaving her at the door.

Gina shut the door and turned to watch him as he casually inspecting her living room. There was an air of danger to Marco that turned her on, made her hot and wet and wanting. He was sex personified with a truly stellar ass, and thighs like steel.

She wet her lips in anticipation, but didn’t pursue, not until she got a read on him. He turned to face her, leaning lazily against her fireplace, one elbow on the mantel. The look on his face told her he wanted her to come to him. She knew the look. He wanted the power, the ultimate control. She’d played the submissive role too many times to count. For this man, she would happily play it again.

She tilted her head, studying him, wondering how he brought out the searing desire to please in her. Never before had she reacted quite so completely to a man.

Dangerous.

The word danced in her head, provoking her desire and her fears, all at once.

She took pleasure in the heat of his smoldering gaze as he watched her approach. Stopping in front of him, she let her robe drop to the floor.

His eyes were the blue of a perfect summer sky. He shrugged out of his jacket and flung it on the couch before sitting down. He stared up at her. “Strip for me, cherie.”

She wanted more foreplay, to feel this man’s sexy hands on her body. “And if I don’t?”

He stood up, stepping forward in a fluid motion, his stance predatory, his eyes glinting with intent. “Then I will have to do it for you.”

Before Gina knew what he was going to do, he had wrapped one arm around her waist while using his free hand to rip off her panties. She gasped as his hand sunk between her legs.

“Already wet,” he said making a disapproving sound. “You make my job so easy, cherie. I thought you would be more of a challenge.”

She laughed in disbelief. “Say that after you make me come.”

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Have no doubt. Come, and come again, you will, and then you will beg for more.” He tangled his hand into her hair and dragged her mouth to his. “I will make you feel so good you might think you have died and gone to heaven, cherie.”

Chapter Fifteen

Luke discovered Julie sitting in the dim glow of a lamp in front of the gas fireplace in his living room, wearing one of his t-shirts, with a big blanket he kept in a closet under her, and another over her legs. He found himself unable to move for the impact the sight had on him. A sense of rightness filled him. She belonged here with him, and he could easily get used to seeing her here and having her in his life.

She seemed to sense him watching her and twisted around. “Hey,” she said softly, and he could hear the concern in her voice, the uncertainty.

“Hey,” he replied, holding up her briefcase. “Got your things from the truck.” He set it on the hall table and walked toward her, forcing himself to go slow when he’d never wanted to rush so much in his life. He had to get a grip, to pull back, to give her a chance to let down those damnable walls he wanted to tear down.

“That’s great,” she said. “So the truck hadn’t been tampered with?”

“No. It was fine.” Luke sat down next to her. “How are you?”

She wet her pale lips, her face scrubbed free of make up, her hair soft and shiny and freshly washed. She’d never looked so beautiful. “It wasn’t a random mugging or car jacking attempt back there, was it?” she asked, bypassing his question.

“No,” he said simply, tucking hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t.”

“You said there was a body, when you called Blake from the truck.”

“I grabbed our intended attacker and his partner shot him.”

Distress furrowed her brow. “Who was he?”

“The body disappeared.”

She stiffened. “Disappeared. Oh my God, Luke. This is...terrifying. Who did this? Who sent them? Judge Moore? This cartel leader?”

“I don’t think it was Moore,” he said. “The man has too much to lose by the attention his wife and his divorce attorney dying would lend. And frankly, I can’t see the cartel doing it either. It brings attention to the judge.”

“Maybe they think he’s a problem and want him out of the picture.”

“Then they kill him,” he said. “That shuts him up. Getting him arrested makes him talk.”

“So then who?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Someone who thinks we know something we shouldn’t or thinks we’re close to finding it out. Maybe the person Elizabeth called Dragonfly. Maybe someone we don’t even know about.” He pulled the cover away from her and eased her to her back, trapping one of her legs with his. “I’ve never been as scared as when I realized I’d left you exposed in the truck with a shooter on the loose. I could hardly breathe for fear I’d just made the worst mistake of my life.”

She laughed but without humor. ”You Walker men do the protect and serve thing well. I’m fine.”

“Protect and serve?” he asked, pulling back to look at her. “Like you’re my duty?”