Protecting His Witness (Red Stone Security Series) (6 page)

He stopped at a small restaurant that had an outside patio and glanced at the glassed-in menu on the outside of the hostess stand. “I’ll tell you everything, but first, how does this place look?”

“Coconut shrimp, pan-grilled barbeque shrimp, lobster, seared tuna…I think I’m in heaven.”

The joy in her voice and on her face was so open, so real, it was a punch to his senses. He couldn’t believe he’d lived so long without her. With that thought, it brought up the reminder that she’d left him. He didn’t want it to make him angry, but it did.

“What?” Her smile fell and he could feel her start to emotionally pull away from him even before she tried to step out of his embrace.

Tried. Because he wouldn’t let her. It was like he physically couldn’t. Vincent tightened his grip and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s grab a table on the patio.” The sign said to seat themselves so he snagged two menus before they headed over.

He had to decide if he could let his own anger go before he took things further between them. He knew that. Figuring out how to do it was the tough part.

 

Chapter 4

 

Jordan couldn’t get over the fact that Vincent was sitting across from her. Over dinner they’d caught up on the last seven years. Of course it wasn’t enough, and she still wanted to know a lot more, but she loved hearing about his life. And she was glad he wasn’t dating someone at the moment. The thought of him with other women…no, she wasn’t even going there. It hurt too much.

“You ready?” he asked as he set the black bill pad on the table.

She’d tried to pay but he’d been almost insulted as he’d snatched the pad from their server. Even though she wished they could sit there all night and talk, she nodded. The night had to end sometime. She nodded and stood. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we can grab gelato on the way back. I remember how much you love it,” he murmured against her ear as he tugged her close to his side, his voice completely wicked.

At those words, her entire body went molten hot. Damn him and his memory. And damn him for turning her on with just a few words. Because she had no doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing. More than once she’d let him eat it off her body—and she’d done the same to him. “You have a very good memory,” she muttered, nudging him with her elbow.

He just wrapped his muscular arm around her shoulders and pulled her close once again. She’d missed that closeness, his warmth, and the way he always made her feel safe and protected. Vincent had never had a problem with displaying affection.

Now that the sun had set, people were out in full party mode. It didn’t matter that it was a Tuesday night; it was summer and everyone was here to let loose. The island music, the sound of laughter, talking and people just having a good time was infectious and relaxing. For the first time in a while she felt as if she could truly let her guard down. Well, almost. She wasn’t letting the guard around her heart totally down, but she liked being able to be herself. Especially with Vincent.

Lord, he was sexy tonight. Wearing simple cargo shorts and a T-shirt with some surf brand logo on the front, he looked good enough to eat. The shirt molded to all his muscles, showing off every sexy line and striation. Even his freaking calves were toned, delicious and so sexy she wanted to lick them. Calves should
not
be sexy. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a SEAL anymore, the man was
built
. And pretty much every female—and quite a few men—had been checking him out all during their dinner. Not that she really cared since he hadn’t even seemed to notice. Of course he probably had, but he hadn’t let on.

At the beginning of the meal he’d seemed to almost pull back from her emotionally, but he didn’t have eyes for anyone else as they’d talked and ate. Not that he ever had when they’d been together. He might have been a player before her, but with her, he’d been devoted. She missed that more than she’d thought possible. She just hated the hot and cold vibe she was getting from him.

“I remember all the dirty stuff.” His voice was teasing and light as they strolled down the sidewalk.

She just bet he did because she did too. In explicit detail. “So…do you want to do anything else tonight?” Because she really didn’t want to spend the night alone at the condo. She’d come here to hibernate, to figure stuff out, but now that Vincent was in town she wanted to soak up every second she could with him.

He would break her heart. She knew that. Hell, she figured she deserved it. But she didn’t care. Not after living without him for so long.

“I can think of a lot of things I’d like to do,” he murmured, the words deep and raspy. The meaning behind them was clear too.

And didn’t that just make her nipples tighten almost painfully. She was wearing a thin bandeau bra under her halter dress and knew her reaction must be blatant. She risked a quick glance up at him, but he was looking around in that vigilant way she remembered. He was always on alert, always ready for danger.

Thank God for men like him.

Against her better judgment, she leaned her face into his chest as they walked and inhaled his spicy masculine scent. She didn’t care if she looked crazy; she wanted to roll around in that purely male essence. Vincent just brought out that primal, extremely feminine part of her and after living like a nun for so long, she wanted to find pleasure with him. Hours and hours of it. More like days and weeks and… nope, not going down that path. She couldn’t expect more than a few nights with him. Deep down she was pretty sure he’d never get over the way she’d left and while it killed her, she still wanted to take what he could offer. She wanted something to hold onto as she tried to figure her life out again.

His arm tightened around her as they turned at the next corner. “You’re killing me, Jordan,” he murmured, still not looking at her.

She wasn’t sure of his tone, and since he was still scanning their surroundings, she couldn’t read his expression. “How?”

He snorted softly before turning to face her and slowly backing her up against a high stone wall that hid a house. The way he moved reminded her of a skilled predator, as if he was stalking his prey. Of course she didn’t mind being his prey. Not when she had firsthand experience with the kind of pleasure he could deliver. Her bare upper back slightly scraped against the rough stone, but she hardly noticed.

The street was much quieter than where they’d just come from, with cars and mopeds parked along the curb. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a couple across the street walking in the other direction, with their backs to her and Vincent. But no one else.

As he watched her with a hot, assessing stare and pale blue eyes that still captivated her, she could hear upbeat reggae style music in the distance, but all her focus was on the man in front of her—the way his chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, the body heat he emanated, his spicy scent. She just wanted to lean into him and soak him up. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in, and rolled his hips once against her.

Oh my. His erection pressed insistently against her, letting her know how much he wanted her, but with the exception of his clear lust, his expression was hard to read. Maybe this was just about sex for him. His breathing was slightly erratic as he watched her. Her gaze drifted to his lips. Why was he just standing there? Unable to read his exact mood and afraid of his rejection, she didn’t have the courage to lift up on her tiptoes and kiss him. Though she really wanted to.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured as a cool breeze ruffled around them. It might be July, but being surrounded by water on all sides, there was a constant flow of air.

“I’m wondering if you’re going to kiss me or not.”

“I know what I did at the condo earlier and I swear I’m not trying to give you mixed signals. I just don’t want to take things too fast between us. Not until…” Sighing, he trailed off and looked away from her for a moment.

The line of his jaw was hard, clenched. She wanted to reach up and trace it with her finger, but resisted the urge. She had a feeling she understood what he wasn’t saying out loud. He didn’t want to cross a line until he knew what he wanted between them. Which she actually understood. But it didn’t mean that it hurt less. She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t change her decision. Knowing what she did now, she wasn’t so sure she’d have made the same decision. Probably not, considering how much she ached at the moment. She’d tried for so damn long to get over him and she never truly had. She’d just compartmentalized. Unfortunately that wasn’t working anymore.

When he’d ordered her out of his home in Miami it had been cutting, but she’d been prepared to deal with it. Now that he’d followed her, her emotions were a mess. “Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, not wanting to stand there a second longer, her body and heart craving what they couldn’t have.

“Hold on.” His voice was low and harsh and his body had gone suddenly rigid.

Peering around him, she spotted a driver covered from head to toe in all black gear riding a moped. It was strange considering it was July, but the person had on a long-sleeved T-shirt, a helmet with dark tint and…what the hell?

Jordan blinked, not sure what she was seeing. It almost looked as if flames were coming up on the other side of the bike. Was it on fire? Wanting to help, she shoved away from the wall, but Vincent held her in place.

She started to ask him what he was doing when she realized the bike wasn’t on fire. The driver was holding a bottle and it had flames rolling off the top. It was a freaking Molotov cocktail. The driver hauled back an arm, poised like a pitcher, ready to throw it right at them!

Her body tensed, her heart rate going into overdrive, but before she could react, Vincent cursed and tackled her to the ground. All the air whooshed out of her lungs as an explosion of fire and glass crashed against the wall above them. Shards rained down on them as Vincent rolled them away, taking the brunt of the falling pieces just as a second explosion of fire shattered lower against the wall.

The sidewalk was unforgiving against their bodies as Vincent kept rolling them until they ran into a parked car. Though adrenaline was raging through her system, she wasn’t hurt except for a few scrapes on her elbows.

Vincent pushed off her before she could take stock of him. He jumped to his feet, every line of his body pulled taut as if he was ready to take off after the attacker on foot. But the squeal of tires had him cursing. Heart thundering, she started to follow his lead, then he crouched down to where she sat on the edge of the sidewalk.

He gently cupped her cheek as he assessed her face then scanned her body. “Baby, are you hurt anywhere?”

She swallowed, struggled to find her voice. “No, just…stunned. Did someone actually throw a Molotov cocktail at us? That’s insane.”

His jaw was tight as he nodded. “They took off but I got the license plate.” He glanced around again at the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind them.

“Are you guys all right?” Two college aged boys with dark tans wearing only board shorts and flip-flops hurried down the sidewalk toward them.

“We’re good, thanks.” Vincent said as he helped her to her feet.

An uncontrollable shake rippled through her.

“We called the cops,” one of them said. His blond hair was spiked and messy.

“Thanks,” Vincent murmured.

Jeez, the cops. Of course. She wasn’t even thinking straight. Wasn’t thinking at all. She looked up at Vincent. “Did you get hurt?” She realized she hadn’t even asked him that.

His expression was soft as he shook his head. “No, baby. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this.”

She knew he had. Still, she stepped back and ran her hands down his arms then over his chest, inspecting him, needing him to be okay. What if one of those bottles had hit him? Or both of them? God, they would have been—

“Stop.” That one word was a harsh order.

“What?” Even her voice trembled. She inwardly cursed herself. He was being so stoic and she felt like a shaking mess of nerves.

“I can see you’re playing the ‘what if’ game in your head. Don’t do it. We’re fine and unharmed. No one’s ever going to fucking hurt you.” He spoke with such authority that some of the fear pulsing through her dissipated.

But not completely. What the hell was wrong with people? After living seven years in fear for her life, this random act of violence stunned her so deeply.

She was vaguely aware of the two surfer looking guys talking a couple yards down in hushed tones, but she kept her focus on Vincent and nodded. “Okay, we’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Instead of responding, he pulled her into a tight embrace and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but it almost felt like he trembled when he hugged her.

 

* * * * *

 

That had gone perfectly. Gauging the reaction time of Jordan’s friend had been a plus, but terrifying that bitch had been even better. This was going to be so much fun.

And so worth it when Jordan finally got what was coming to her. Unfortunately the man with her had reacted quickly and expertly, moving with an impressive speed as he’d quickly gotten both of them to cover. He’d also been very protective of Jordan. After this attack, her friend—or more likely lover—would probably be vigilant in keeping her protected.

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