“Listen. I don’t want to have sex…”

Meghan’s words faded into silence. She blinked several times as her cheeks started to flame. This wasn’t the hairy little gnomelike man who’d propositioned her earlier. Slowly she pulled her focus up from the button fly of a pair of well-worn jeans.

Her gaze continued up, past a slim waist to a broad chest, beyond a set of wide shoulders until her eyes found his ruggedly handsome face. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Tall, dark and fabulous, this bad boy had walked straight out of her erotic fantasies.

“I didn’t know it was that kind of resort,” he said, grinning. “Usually I have to ask before I get rejected.”

The rough timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “Um, I thought you were someone else.”

His smile widened in amusement…and interest? “You mean you do want to have sex?”

Meghan didn’t know how to respond to his teasing. This guy was too hot. Thinking about her plans to indulge in a no-strings affair with a stranger, she suddenly wasn’t so sure she could go through with it. Then he smiled, radiating dark sensuality and dangerous allure.

Then again, she thought. What red-blooded woman could resist?

Dear Reader,

Can you imagine a perfect lover, a man who somehow knows your secret desires? Can you imagine giving in to sensual impulses and living out your sexy fantasies?

Meghan Foster wants to have a wildly passionate affair, like the ones she writes about in her diary. Alex Worth is the kind of guy fantasies are created for. But the ideal man isn’t always what he seems. Especially when he’s using Meghan’s own imagination to seduce her…

I’m thrilled to be writing for Blaze, a line I’ve enjoyed since its launch a year and a half ago. These books have brought me countless hours of sensual reading pleasure. I hope you get as much enjoyment from reading about Alex and Meghan’s sexual adventures as I did coming up with them.

The journey to publication is often a long and frustrating one. To find out how I got here, and to see where I’m going, visit my Web site at www.miazachary.com. Follow your dreams. You never know where they might take you.

I wish you joy.

Mia Zachary

P.S. While you’re online, be sure to check out www.tryblaze.com.

Red Shoes & A Diary
Mia Zachary

MILLS & BOON

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With love to Mom, who always believed,

and to Heather, who was always there.

I’m deeply grateful to my wonderful editor, Brenda Chin, for taking a chance and for hating my cruise ship. Special thanks to my critique partners, Kelly Young and Deanna Lilly, and to all my friends at www.cataromance.com.

Monday, July 14

What will it be like to have a physical encounter with a stranger? To give myself over to sexual exploration and shed my inhibitions?

On these pages, as “Elise,” my other self, I’ve been wild and sensual, daring and seductive. I’ve fantasized about a tall, dark-haired lover who makes me feel sexy, desirable, feminine. I’ve dreamed of taking chances, letting go.

With the last entry of this diary comes a new beginning. What will it be like to find a lover and say, “Take me, I’m yours”?

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

1

ALEX WORTH STRODE down the fancy marbled hallway, looking for his room—his “suite.” He never thought a guy like him would be staying in a place like the Cayo Sueño Resort. Finally, an undercover assignment with perks.

His conscience spoke loudly in his head. Remember how you got here. Don’t forget what’s at stake.

He ignored the stab of guilt and kept walking. There, on the left. Room—Suite 809. He disengaged the lock and swung the door open. The first thing he noticed was a pair of sandals in front of the couch. The cherry-red high heels had “seduce me” written all over them.

Alex glanced at his magnetic hotel card key and then checked it against the door number. He was in the right place. He looked back over at the sexy sandals. Talk about service. The hotel room came with a woman.

“Hello?”

He listened intently for any sound of movement. Nothing.

After setting his carry-all in the foyer, he slammed the door shut as a warning.

Still no answer. The thick carpet muffled his steps as he moved farther into the suite. He called out again, his voice echoing off the pale papered walls.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

He poked his head into the bathroom. No woman. Just a makeup bag on the vanity and a used towel hanging on the shower rod. The living room was empty, too, except for the lingering scent of perfume. Something floral, but somehow smoky…

A lace-edged bra and matching panties were carefully arranged on the couch cushion. Alex smirked. Who was this woman? The bright red lingerie had been laid out precisely, like she’d wanted to see how they’d look on her body. He picked up the bra, trying to imagine the breasts that fit into it. The satin fabric felt slippery between his fingers and it wasn’t hard to picture a hot babe who was equally slick.

He dropped the bra back on the couch, scooped the sandals off the floor and headed for the other room. Maybe the woman was lounging on the bed silently waiting for him.

Nope. No such luck. What the hell was going on? How did she get into his suite, and more importantly, where was she now?

Two small suitcases sat against the wall beside the closet. He set the shoes down and flipped one of the luggage tags around. Apparently Meghan Elise Foster was visiting Florida from Baltimore, Maryland. He had a name now, but her reason for being here was still a mystery.

He’d been invited to Cayo Sueño by Rogelio Braga, his connection in the Miami cartel. Braga was supposed to introduce him to the infamous Frankie Ramos. So Alex couldn’t trust anything about this trip, not even bright red panties that begged, “touch me.” Too many good agents had been compromised in situations just like this.

A third suitcase lay open on the bed. It was half full, as if she’d been interrupted. He didn’t hesitate over rummaging through the contents. He’d worked undercover too long to let a little issue like privacy stop him. He had to know who this woman was.

The “touch me” panties and “seduce me” sandals didn’t go with the clothes laid out on the bed. Quality, with recognizable labels, but kind of plain. The skirts were long, the necklines high and everything was a solid color, not a stripe or pattern in sight.

On the other hand, the underwear couldn’t have been hotter. He recognized it from his ex-wife’s catalogues that still came to the house. Bright floral demi bras, satin tap pants and lace camisoles spilled from the suitcase. Most of the stuff still had price tags attached.

Weird. Maybe Ms. Foster was going through some kind of identity crisis—something he could easily relate to. Still, this whole thing was making him uneasy. He’d turned to leave when he noticed a hardbound book on the window seat. It looked like an address book or a calendar.

Curious, he went over to check it out. Guessing from the handwritten paragraphs on the open page, he’d found Ms. Foster’s journal. He focused on the actual words and his brows shot up in surprise. Whoa.

Suddenly he appears, glorious in his nakedness. Tall and strong and beautiful, my fantasy lover stands beside me under the waterfall. He raises his arms to me and the bright sun lights the water droplets rolling down his magnificent body. He moves toward me, offers himself to me. No gesture could be more flattering, more seductive, than seeing the rigid proof that I am desired.

As the image burned itself into Alex’s brain, the effect was hard and immediate. His skin felt hot, his chest tight, as his pulse accelerated. He clapped the book shut before tossing it back onto the window seat. It slipped off the edge, pages flapping, and fell to the floor. He stared at the blue paisley cover for a second, struggling with his conscience.

Arousal won. He rifled the pages until he found the waterfall entry again.

He wraps his arms around me, lifts me off my feet, all the while plundering my mouth with his tongue. Our bodies join as he lowers me onto him. I cry out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure as he begins to rock his hips. Mating beneath the cascade, he lifts me repeatedly, my body sliding, his thrusting—

Knock knock knock.

Startled, Alex snapped the journal shut. In the space of a breath he went on alert, adrenaline pumping into his system. It couldn’t be Ms. Foster. She didn’t have to knock. Only two people knew for certain he was here—one a friend, the other a target. And his partner wasn’t due to arrive until later.

He reached around for the gun in the waistband of his jeans. Shit. His Beretta was back in Miami with his badge and his real ID. The finance geek he was impersonating wouldn’t be armed. He had to get himself together—fast.

His name was “Nicholas Alexander.” He owned a small brokerage firm in Coral Gables. He was here to discuss ways of moving the cartel’s money out of the country.

Show time.

Grabbing the knob, he closed his eyes, willing his rapid pulse to slow. He remembered the muzzle flash. A sharp crack of sound. Pain. His eyes flew open. “Nick” swallowed hard and answered the door.

A bellman stood in the entrance, a professional smile on his face. “Mr. Alexander? I have a delivery for you, sir.”

Alex controlled his expression, gave away none of his relief. He transferred the small book he still held into his right hand. “Do I need to sign anything?”

“No, sir. This came from within the resort.” The young man handed over a bottle of champagne and bid him a good afternoon.

Back in the living room, he put the bottle and the note that came with it on the coffee table. No problem. Just a delivery. He didn’t have to face Braga yet. He could relax.

Too bad his body didn’t respond as fast as his brain.

Sinking heavily onto the sofa, he rested his elbows on his knees and drew in a shaky breath. He swiped his palms up and down his face, irritated to discover beads of sweat around his hairline. The panic attacks were coming too often.

Deep unhappiness, resentment and frustration welled up inside him, making his eyes sting. The nausea slowly dissipated, but its aftereffect gnawed at his confidence. He brushed the fingers of his left hand over the scar on his temple.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.

He’d spent the past eight years in the Drug Enforcement Agency, three and a half of those with the Special Operations Division, a joint national task force of agents, prosecutors and analysts from the DEA, FBI and U.S. Customs Service. Alex considered himself one of the best agents the SOD had. He was the first one through the door, the first one to volunteer for assignments. The job had always been enough— Hell, it was everything until six weeks ago.

The meeting in Overtown had gone south when an informant double-crossed the team. She was killed in the ensuing gunfire and his partner’s cover was blown. “Nick” had inadvertently saved Rogelio Braga’s life, but landed in the hospital with a bullet graze on his forehead.

Over the past month, his mild anxiety had escalated to a sickening panic. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. The DEA psychologist had patiently explained it. Most law enforcement personnel exhibited some symptoms following a traumatic stressor. Alex had silently glared through the mandatory therapy.

PTSD, my ass. He just had trouble sleeping, that was all.

After successfully infiltrating the cartel, he was under a lot of pressure to close the case. As the stakes increased, so did the dread of being shot in the face again. He hated this…weakness. And he was starting to hate this job.

He picked up the champagne and inspected the label before reading the note. “Alexander. Welcome to Cayo Sueño. I hope you enjoy my little gift. I’m sure you will put it to good use. Braga.”

A gift, huh? The smoky floral perfume lingering in the room tickled his nostrils. He needed to track down Meghan Foster and figure out whether she was here by accident or by design. Either way, he couldn’t wait to see how she looked wearing those cherry-red sandals.

“I JUST HAD sex on the beach. Wanna try it?”

A bony elbow nudged Meghan Foster in the ribs. She turned until she was cleavage to face with the hairiest man she’d ever seen. The fur on his chin and torso more than compensated for the lack of a single strand on his head.

“Excuse me?” She backed up against the rail of the pool deck, suppressing the urge to cross her arms over her breasts.

“It’s a joke. Ya know, Sex on the Beach. The drink?” He raised his umbrella-laden glass to indicate the pink liquid inside. “So, how ’bout it? We could have ‘Sex’ together.”

Meghan shuddered at the image of this hairy gnome wearing nothing but sand and a gap-toothed smile. “Um, no. I think not.”

“Ya don’t know what yer missing, girlie.”

“I do, actually.”

The gnome shrugged his fuzzy shoulders and went off to accost someone else.

Quite a few of her diary fantasies involved water. In fact, she’d written several versions of the famous scene in the movie From Here to Eternity. But if another man ever suggested making love in the surf, he’d better be younger, taller and better-looking.

A steel band played for the welcome reception and her hips swayed to the beat of the Calypso tune. Looking around, she couldn’t believe the crowd. The party had turned into good-natured chaos, overflowing from the veranda onto the sundeck above the main pool.

Pushing her glasses into place, Meghan squinted against the glare from the aquamarine water. Pale gray clouds flirted with the late afternoon sun, but did little to dispel the heat. She was really sorry she’d chosen this outfit. The silk blouse clung to her skin and her linen walking shorts felt too thick and heavy. She swallowed the last mouthful of cola from her crystal tumbler and set it on the rail.

Angling her head from side to side, she searched the crowd for her sister. Julie was the Cayo Sueño entertainment director. She and Mom had saved up to surprise Meghan with this much-needed holiday. Mom had even told her not to behave herself.

The memory made her smile. She had absolutely no intention of being a good girl. A week on Dream Key was exactly what she needed to start her new life and she wasn’t going to waste a single moment. Tilting her face toward the Florida sun, she imagined the humid air smelled hot, spicy and a little dangerous.

That’s going to be me—hot, spicy and dangerous.

Uptight. Cold. Boring. Rob’s words echoed nastily in her mind. He’d flung the insults at her the day she’d found the crotchless panties. She’d never in her life worn crotchless panties.

How dumb could one person be? When Rob had told her he was working late, she’d believed him. When he’d said he had to go out of town on business, she’d still believed him. And the whole time he’d been boinking that silicone-enhanced blonde at the office. He hadn’t even bothered to deny he was cheating, and that hurt worse than the affair itself.

Rob blamed Meghan for the affair, accusing her of being too inexperienced and withdrawn to satisfy him. He’d found a “real” woman who was sexy and adventurous and sophisticated—all of the things that she wasn’t. All of the things she couldn’t be—except in her secret diary.

The betrayal had left her emotionally shattered and totally unsure of her appeal as a woman. She’d known something was missing in their relationship. When they’d had sex, part of her had held back from fully giving and accepting pleasure— Meghan shoved the memory aside, determined to move on. The past couldn’t be undone, no matter how hard she wished.

What she needed was an affair of her own. The kind of no-strings, no-regrets sexual encounter she had only written and dreamed about. This week, she was finally going to live a little, have fun, go wild. She was going to be a Sex Goddess in Training. Once she found the right guy—

An elbow knocked into her ribs again. She huffed out an impatient sigh, expecting to see the hairy little gnome again. She whirled to confront him, tilting her head down as she spoke.

“Listen. I don’t want to have sex….” The words faded into silence. She blinked several times as her cheeks started to flame. Definitely not the gnome. Slowly, she pulled her focus up from the button fly of a pair of well-worn jeans.

Her gaze continued up, way up, past a slim waist to a broad chest covered by a blue-and-yellow floral shirt. She looked beyond muscular arms to a set of wide shoulders until her eyes found the ruggedly handsome face. Seeing the sable hair tousled over his forehead, her fingers itched to test the silkiness of those unruly strands. It looked like he hadn’t shaved his short, dark whiskers in days.

Omigod. A tiny gold hoop sparkled in his left earlobe!

The modern-day pirate arched one eyebrow. That’s when she noticed a thin groove that ended at his hairline. Startled, she dropped her gaze to his mouth. Big mistake. He had a wide mouth with full, totally kissable lips. They parted in a dazzling display of even, white teeth. The friendly-yet-sexy grin sent a wave of lust rushing though her.

He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Tall, dark and fabulous, this bad boy had walked straight out of her erotic fantasies. She saw her own gaping reflection in the mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes and closed her mouth.

“Didn’t know it was that kind of resort. Usually I have to ask before I get rejected.”

The rough timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Who would be crazy enough to reject him? Meghan pushed her eyeglasses back onto her nose. This guy was just too incredible to be real.

“Um, I thought you were someone else.”

His smile widened in amusement…and interest? “You mean, you do want to have sex?”

“Not with the gnome. I mean— Oh, never mind.” His rumbling chuckle turned her on even more.

Now would be a great time for a dignified exit, but she was frozen in place. No, not frozen. This guy was too hot. She continued to stare at her fantasy come to life. Faced with the reality of seducing a stranger, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Then he smiled again, radiating dark sensuality and a dangerous allure.

What Sex Goddess in Training could resist?

2

He is everything I ever wanted in a man, all that I’ve dreamed of. When I see him, there is a primitive recognition. Ours eyes meet, our souls collide.

“YOU’RE NOT what I expected.”

“Pardon?” Meghan blinked and focused on the pirate instead of her runaway pheromones.

“Um, I meant you’re kind of overdressed for a beachside resort.” His mouth curved into an odd smile. “Nice shoes.”

She glanced down at the high-heeled white sandals that went with her walking shorts. “I guess I haven’t gotten into vacation mode yet.”

With a tip of his head, he indicated the crowd of people around them. “This is some party, huh?”

“It just got a lot better.” Was she flirting? She was flirting. Cool.

His smile widened at the inadvertent compliment and he stood a little taller, if that were possible. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Meghan dropped her gaze, not believing him. This guy was sending out signals that had her completely off-balance. She fidgeted, twirling the gold bracelet around her wrist. “So, do you come here often?”

“Never been to this resort before, but I spend a lot of time in Key West.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a broker.”

She glanced at his shirt. A blind man could see that bold, gaudy pattern a mile away. “Forgive the observation, but it’s hard to picture you calling orders down to the trading floor.”

“Working vacations are always casual. What about you?”

Someone jostled him from behind. As he turned to look, he took an unconscious step toward her. His right hand bumped her breast and a shock of awareness zinged along her nerve endings. She gasped and he swung around, looking at her curiously.

Wow. If she reacted like this to an accidental fondle, she wasn’t sure she could handle a deliberate one. Reeling from the thrill of his unexpected touch, it took a second to remember his question.

“Oh, um. For the past few years I’ve been working as a paralegal.”

“That’s a legal assistant, right?”

“Yes. I did most of the work for a trial, like filing documents with the court, interviewing witnesses and preparing evidence.” Meghan realized she was babbling. She smoothed a damp palm over her hair and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m starting at University of Miami Law this fall.”

“So you’re going to be an attorney.” The corners of his mouth angled into a smirk. “Did you hear they’re using lawyers in lab experiments now? Apparently there are some things even rats won’t do.”

“Gee, I never heard that one before.” She rolled her eyes and laughed along with him. “I’m going into civil law, not criminal. I want to do mediation and binding arbitration.”

“I guess this is your last vacation for a while.” He tipped his beer bottle toward her in salute. “Here’s hoping it’s a memorable one.”

She felt another wave of heat, and not just in her cheeks. His voice was low and smooth, as sensuous as the rasp of bodies sliding over satin sheets… The sound of laughter and applause brought her back to the present.

“Want to see what’s going on?” Her pirate gallantly offered his arm, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. His skin felt warm, the dark hairs silky. Her fingertips tingled at the point of contact, sending a tremor along her nerves.

He forged a path to the pool side of the deck, made space near the railing and maneuvered her to stand in front of him. His body heat penetrated her back and she had a crazy urge to rub her tush against his zipper.

Very subtly, she angled her head to the side. Casting a glance over one shoulder, Meghan studied her fantasy man. She mentally stripped off his garish shirt and tight jeans. His body would be perfect—she just knew it. Lean, hard, athletic. Hard.

If she felt the stirrings of lust, this damp and quivering desire, then she couldn’t be frigid. Her reaction to this gorgeous guy proved that she was a normal, healthy woman.

He must have sensed her ogling him, because he looked down and grinned knowingly. Busted. With a hot blush and a quiet sigh, she turned her attention to the makeshift stage below.

The staff at Cayo Sueño introduced themselves. She listened absently to the various names, origins and job titles.

“—happy to plan your exercise and workout schedule—”

“—adventures await, so stop on by the tour desk—”

“—the fairway at the Key West Golf Club—”

She smiled when Julie grabbed the microphone. The crisp white uniform flattered her sister’s pretty bronze face and showed off her great figure. Jules enthusiastically related the activities available both on and off the island.

“Personally, I don’t think seven days is long enough to enjoy everything we have to offer!”

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on a cruise ship?” The pirate murmured the comment, his breath tickling her ear.

She laughed and tilted her face to look up at him. “Cross your fingers we don’t have to play shuffle-board.”

He seemed to hold her gaze, but she couldn’t be sure. She wanted him to take off the sunglasses so she could see his eyes. Would they be green, like the man in her fantasies? Please let them be green.

Jules briefly mentioned the pre-Columbian ruins on the northeast side of the island. She went on to list some of the tours available in Key West, fifteen minutes away, as well as trips to the Lower Keys and the Dry Tortugas National Park. After wishing everyone a fabulous vacation, she said, “Oh, one last thing while I’ve got everybody’s attention. The woman on the upper deck in the beige blouse and white shorts is my sister.”

Startled, Meghan tore her gaze away from the pirate to gape down at Julie, who waved wildly in her direction. It seemed a hundred pairs of eyes turned to stare. Her stomach clutched in dread and she stood motionless in the spotlight of sudden attention.

“It’s Meghan’s first vacation in two years and her first ever visit to Cayo Sueño. I just know you guys are going to make sure she has some fun this week. Thanks!”

For the millionth time in her life, she wished she were an only child. “Julie Anne Foster, I’m going to kill you.”

“Bad idea to announce that in front of witnesses. They tend to remember it when the body is found.”

She turned in the circle of his arm where he rested his hand on the railing. Despite her embarrassment, excitement caught fire in her belly. She was practically in his embrace. All she had to do was lean her head back to kiss him.

“This isn’t funny. One of these guys could be a deranged ax-murdering rapist. Now, no thanks to my meddling sister, he knows my name.”

“Al—” His voice hitched, then he straightened and offered his hand. “Nick. Nicholas Alexander. I’m not an ax murderer. I swear.”

She snickered in appreciation of the joke and reached out. When his large palm enveloped her hand, the softness of his skin surprised her. “Nice to meet you, Nick.”

He finally peeled his sunglasses off and she saw his eyes for the first time. Omigod. They were the light green of spring leaves with long dark lashes. Even better than her fantasy man’s.

He continued to clasp her fingers, tilting his head as if studying her. “And you’re Meghan Elise Foster from Baltimore.”

How did he know all that? Taken aback by the odd tone of his voice, she slipped her hand away. “Yes, I am.”

He stared at her intently, as if he could see into her soul. No one had ever looked at her so…thoroughly. She could lose herself in his eyes. And in the slow, sexy grin unfolding on his face.

“In that case, you’ve got real nice underwear.”

“Excuse me?” She spread one hand over her chest, in case he could somehow see her bra.

His tone was too intimate, his expression too knowing, as he eyed her up and down. “The red lacy ones. Very sexy.”

How could he have seen her underwear? Only the sales clerk had seen her brand-new underwear. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You left them draped on my couch.”

“Your sofa?”

“Looks like you checked into my suite by mistake. Not that I mind sharing. But I thought you’d want to know.”

“There must be some mistake.” She dug the magnetic card key out of her tote bag and held it up for him to see. “I have suite number 809.”

“Nope. It’s upside-down.” His warm fingers curled over her wrist, then turned her hand until the card faced the opposite way. “You have room number 608. 809 is mine.”

Well, that explained the underwear. Not wanting to believe the awkwardness of the situation, she drew her brows together in confusion. “But this key fits the lock to that suite.”

“Then I’ll take a rain check on seeing you wear those red, lacy panties.” He winked at her, his arrogant reply tempered by a dash of charm and a seductive smile.

The breath hitched in her throat and her mouth suddenly went dry. The cold sting of rain hit Elise’s bare skin as his hot body lowered onto hers… Swallowing hard, Meghan concentrated on the problem at hand. Adopting a brisk manner, she shrugged the tote bag into place on her shoulder. “Let’s go check with the front desk, shall we?”

They joined the group of irritated guests already at the hotel’s reservation desk. The manager apologized to everyone for the apparent malfunction of the key coder. The computer had failed to change the access numbers upon checkout and several rooms were double assigned before the mistake was discovered.

Fifteen minutes later, Meghan stood in the open doorway of suite 809 with Nick and a security guard. She couldn’t believe this. “Are you certain this is necessary, Mr. Brooks?”

“You asked me that four times, ma’am. And for the fifth time, I’m tellin’ you it’s hotel policy not to let no one into another room unescorted.”

Nick tried to reason with the man. “She’s not going to steal anything. Most of the things in there are hers anyway.”

“Hotel policy—”

“She’s not unescorted. I’m standing right here. You don’t have to make her feel like a criminal.” He turned to let his eyes roam over her figure. “Besides, if she does try anything, I’m pretty sure I can take her.”

Oh, he could take her all right. And she wouldn’t resist at all. Temptation dared her to grab the resort bathrobe and bolt just for the chance to wrestle against his long, lean body.

The security guard finally gave in, apparently having taken all the grief he was going to. “Fine, sir. Don’t come yellin’ for me if you got stuff missing.”

When the door closed behind them, Meghan found herself alone with the sexiest man on the face of the earth. Alone with the sexiest man and her own raging hormones. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Thank you. I was beginning to think he planned to frisk me.”

“Allow me.” He wiggled his brows and placed one hand on the wall behind her head. “Are you concealing anything? Stolen pillow mints? Pilfered matchbooks?”

His eyes challenged her while his other hand reached out. She held his stare with effort when he stroked his fingertips down her bare arm. Butterflies trembled in her stomach and she gasped softly when he lowered his head.

Omigod. He’s going to kiss me.

She flattened a palm against his chest to stop him. Heat radiated through the bright fabric and her pulse accelerated to match the beating of his heart. Then the sensual light went out of his eyes, replaced by something akin to confusion.

Did he think she was a tease? She wanted to play fast and loose this week, she really did. Just not quite so soon. If she let him keep advancing, they might end up doing it right here on the floor. Hmm. Actually… No, not yet.

Nick looked down at her hand, then back into her eyes. The intimacy of the touch unsettled her and she snatched her fingers away. Uptight. Inexperienced. Embarrassed.

“The only contraband I have is the soap and the herbal shampoo.” Ducking under his extended arm, she darted toward the bedroom to repack.

“Speaking of things that ought to be illegal…”

Hearing the smoky familiarity in his tone, she turned back in time to see him come out of the living room. Her brows furrowed in curiosity, then shot up in alarm. Would the humiliation of this day never end?

“Guess you’ll be needing these back.” Nick held out one sculpted arm, dangling her bra and panties from his hand. He casually stroked his thumb over her intimate wear.

His fingers grazed the edge of Elise’s panties, tickling the sensitive skin along her inner thigh, before sliding inside… Meghan blinked, tried to refocus. The corner of Nick’s mouth quirked and the look in his eyes was pure mischief, as if he suspected her reaction and dared her to come closer to the source.

Okay. She could do this. Lifting her chin, she threw back her shoulders and walked toward him. He skimmed his fingers across her palm when he returned her lingerie. Another hot current passed between them.

A rush of anxiety immediately followed.

What was she doing flirting with a guy like Nick? He could have any woman he wanted. So what mental disorder made her think he’d waste time on her? Loneliness and longing twisted her heart, overwhelmed her. She was boring, she was frigid—she was doing it again.

Meghan slammed the self-doubt aside, concentrated instead on her mission. The plan was to find an attractive man and then entice him into spending the next week indulging in decadent pleasures. Well, she’d found a guy and he was perfect. Nick was everything she imagined the fantasy lover in her diary to be. His dangerously compelling gaze made her yearn for wild excitement and erotic adventure.

Ask him.

She cleared her throat and prepared to inject a sensuous note into her voice. Then she hesitated, not yet braced for rejection, unwilling to make herself vulnerable. No matter how much she wanted to live out her fantasies, things were moving too fast. She should at least make sure he wasn’t an ax murderer before she tried to take him to bed.

Meghan flicked her gaze away and slid the garments out of his hand. She couldn’t bear to meet his eye and see his reaction to her failed attempt at seduction. “Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure.” His rich voice held more than a hint of innuendo. “You know, you didn’t strike me as the red lace type.”

She pressed her lips together and shoved her glasses back onto her nose. Maybe she wasn’t a Sex Goddess yet, but Elise sure was. Red lace underwear and enough attitude to bring any man to his knees. Including Nick.

“You don’t know me well enough to decide what type I am.” Her voice quavered despite her effort to sound confident. She turned on her heel and went into the bedroom. After dropping her tote bag, she hauled open the nearest suitcase and shoved the lingerie inside.

Old heartache welled up inside her, fueled by memories of shyness and humiliation, fanned by self-doubt and fear. She never seemed to fit in anywhere, not even in her own skin.

ALEX WATCHED the fire die out, watched Meghan pull into herself. He was more intrigued than ever. The lady was a walking contradiction. Those journal entries were hot enough to ignite the pages. But now she acted like she wanted to be invisible.

How in the hell could this be the same woman?

Leaning one hip against the dresser, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. Meghan Elise Foster from Baltimore wasn’t at all what he’d expected. The description he’d gotten from housekeeping didn’t do her justice.

Short, brown curls framed an interesting face. Behind the wire-rimmed glasses, her eyes were the color of a good single-malt scotch. Warm and sparkling with intelligence. Her golden skin was flawless, highlighted by the sweet flush coloring her cheeks. She had freckles on her nose and a stubborn set to her chin.

Her small, but perfectly formed breasts would fit nicely in the palms of his hands. She had round hips, a great butt and her shapely legs went on forever. He was dying to find out how they’d feel wrapped around his waist.

Moving gracefully around the room, she was doing her best to pretend he wasn’t there. But the frequent glances from under her lashes gave her away. Alex grinned. She was trying way too hard to ignore him. Damned if he would let her. He drifted closer, narrowing the space between them.

“Need any help?”

“I can manage, thank you.”

She gathered her cotton T-shirts, linen shorts, and plain black swimsuit out of the dresser. The neatly folded clothing was just as neatly repacked into the suitcase. She brushed past him, unnecessarily close, and her exotic scent filled his senses. Like getting socked in the gut without warning.

“What’s your perfume called?”

She looked over, startled by the question. “It’s body oil, actually. Calendula flower.”

“It suits you.”

“Oh, really. How so?” Wary curiosity laced her tone.

He cocked his head to one side, assessing what he’d learned about her so far. “Sweet, with an unexpected hint of spice.”

She grinned at him, obviously pleased by the description. The shallow dimple added character to an already pretty smile. Alex wanted to feel that mouth all over his body. Lord have mercy, those lush curving lips could get a man into serious trouble.

And “trouble” was just how he thought of her. He had a job to do, had to prove himself to the DEA all over again. He’d been trained to handle every situation with a cool, clear head. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, wasn’t supposed to lose control. Her kind of distraction he didn’t need.

His body disagreed. Firmly.

When she picked up the cherry-red “seduce me” sandals, his imagination went into overdrive. He saw her laid out on his bed, wearing the sandals and nothing else, reading her journal to him in that soft husky voice. He shifted to ease the pressure on his zipper.

Alex reached into the open dresser, pulled out a nightgown she’d forgotten in the corner. The white silk whispered through his fingers. He held it up by its thin straps, easily picturing the delicate material against her tawny skin.

“What I said before didn’t come out right. I just assumed a classy lady like yourself wore white or pink or cream.”

“And so you were right.”

He noticed her pulse flutter in her throat as he prowled toward her. “But I’ll bet the red lace looks incredible on you.”

“Yes, it does.”

She held his gaze boldly, like she was testing him instead of the other way around. A wild passion burned through the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him and suddenly he recognized her. She was “Elise,” the real woman hiding inside that killer body. No question.

“Why don’t you show me?”

“Why don’t we leave some things to the imagination? I’m not in the habit of letting strangers see me in my underwear.”

“Lady, those teeny scraps of cloth don’t have enough room for my imagination.”

He’d never reacted to a woman like this before. He wanted to strip away the contradictory layers down to the hot babe hiding inside. Uncovering secrets was his business and he wanted to discover hers, despite his mission and the possibility that she was somehow involved.

Meghan didn’t seem like the type to be working for the cartel. Still, he didn’t like coincidences. And recent events had taught him about deception. If she worked for Braga, he’d find out soon enough. If not, he’d allow himself the brief pleasure of her company before concentrating on his job.

Alex stood close, deliberately invading her space, brushing his index finger across her lower lip. Her eyes widened and her quick intake of breath was one of the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. He held her gaze, dared her to look away.

“Spend the night with me. Then we won’t be strangers.”

3

In fantasies, I can be anyone I want, do anything I please. I can follow my impulses and indulge my wildest desires. Best of all, my fantasies are completely anonymous.

MEGHAN UNPACKED her suitcases for the second time that day. “Well, it’s been anything but boring so far.”

“What do you mean?” The charms on Julie’s bracelet jingled as she flipped her hair over one shoulder.

“First, a gnome propositioned me and you made me into this week’s charity case. Then, I had to wrestle my underwear away from a modern-day pirate.”

Julie let out a peal of laughter. “A gnome and a pirate? I don’t remember including them in our advertising brochure.”

“The gnome isn’t important.” She opened a drawer and laid her lingerie inside. “As for the pirate, he’s the gorgeous guy whose suite I checked into by mistake.”

“He wasn’t wearing your underwear, I hope.”

“No, he only fondled it.” Instantly, she recalled the sight of her bright red panties draped over Nick’s olive skin—and her burning desire to be wearing the lingerie the next time he got his hands on it.

“I can only imagine how my straitlaced big sister must have reacted! What did you say to him?”

Meghan affected a nonchalant tone. Jules was so easy to tease. “I agreed to spend the night with him.”

“Excuse me?”

“He asked me to have dinner with him.”

“Oh.” She sat back in the chair and reached for another piece of the almond-crusted brie. “That’s a relief. I thought you meant—”

“I’m planning to take him for a lover.”

“Excuse me?” Julie’s voice rose to a squeak and she dropped the cheese back onto the tray.

“I said—”

“I heard you.” She shook her head, her tone emphatic. “You are not serious.”

Meghan planted her hands on both hips and answered with a steely resolve. “I’m quite serious. He’s great-looking, charming and very sexy. I think Nick would be a perfect lover.”

“You’ve never taken a wrong step in your entire life. I doubt you’ll start now.” Julie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand and picked up her cheese again. “You need a nice, steady guy with a house and a dog, a guy who’ll be loyal and dependable.”

“Based on that description, I should just get the dog. I’m not looking for a relationship, Jules.”

“That’s great, except you’re not the kind of woman who takes a lover.”

“Everyone keeps assuming they know what type of person I am. Did it ever occur to you that you don’t know me at all?”

Julie stared at her. “But it’s not like you to be impulsive or reckless. For thirteen years, after Dad deserted us, you held our family together. Mom depended on you for everything and you practically raised me, even though we’re only two years apart.”

Meghan ignored the bitterness seeping into her gut. The past couldn’t be undone, no matter how she wished it could. She kept her tone even when she spoke. “I’ve always done what other people expected of me, rarely what I wanted to do—”

“I know that, Megs, and I’m sorry. But don’t think it goes unappreciated. Mom and I wouldn’t have made it without your support.”

“Well, now that you’ve got this great job and Mom is in love again, it’s finally my turn to have a life. There’s an urgent need building inside me. A need to be reckless and daring, to be swept away into a passionate affair.”

“You’re a nice girl—”

“I don’t want to be a nice girl! I want to be bad.” She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. “I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve never done anything exciting or unexpected. This week is my chance.”

Julie spoke with quiet firmness. “Megs, you wouldn’t even know how.”

“Is it really so far-fetched to think I could find a boy toy, use his body for my personal pleasure, then walk away with a smile on my face?”

“Yes, it is.”

Frustration and resentment stabbed at her. She was getting advice on her love life from her younger sister, who’d not only dated more, but gotten married first. How wrong was that?

“There’s so much locked up inside me, Jules. I can’t really put it into words. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder who that woman is and I’m afraid she’s the ice princess Rob described.”

“You’re nothing like that, Megs! You’re warm and sweet—”

She walked toward the window, not wanting to see Julie’s reaction as she bared her secret. “Maybe this seems crazy, but I need to do this. I want to be impulsive and wild. I want to be a real woman who isn’t afraid of her sexuality.”

A woman like Elise.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’re brave.” She turned back to see Julie smiling in admiration. “If this is what you really want, then go for it.”

Meghan grinned in relief. It had been hard to admit that she wasn’t the perfect upstanding older sister after all. Feeling lighter for having shared her burden, she reached for the crab quiche on the hors d’oeuvres tray. Foster women never let emotion interfere with food.

“So, can you turn me into a seductress?” She’d had the idea before arriving at Cayo Sueño, but now that she’d met Nick, she needed a specific plan.

“Of course.” Julie took the last egg roll. “But not with the stuff you just took out of those suitcases.”

Meghan studied her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She could stand to lose ten pounds, but her figure wasn’t bad. Her overall image was classic, professional, conservative—not exactly seductress material.

“I love the underwear, Megs, it’s great. But the outer you needs to reflect the inner you. If you’re going to be a sexpot, you’ll have to dress like one.”

“I quit my job, Jules. This isn’t the time for me to spend money on a new wardrobe.”

“I’ll lend you some of my clothes. Come by my cottage before dinner, and I’ll do your makeup, too. We’re going to make you irresistible and then find the man of your dreams!”

Nick was the man she wanted. Tall, dark and handsome with a dynamic personality and a very nice rear end, he was pure sex in a really ugly shirt. He was so much like her fantasy man it was scary. Well, except for the shirt.

“Okay, let’s talk about this fabulous guy.” Julie walked into the living room and took out a sheet of the resort’s stationery.

Meghan stood beside the chair, tilting her head to see over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making a list of necessary traits for Mr. Fabulous. This way you can narrow down your search.”

“I’ve already made my choice.”

“Then, tonight at dinner you can see if Nick qualifies.” Julie looked up as she explained. “He’s got to be romantic. You know, the gift-for-no-reason and flowers-just-because type.”

Meghan didn’t really care about this. She just wanted to have great sex. Then again, being pursued and persuaded might be fun, too.

Julie went on. “He’s also got to be sensitive, so you feel comfortable exploring new sexual frontiers with him. Most importantly, he’s got to be ugly.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Leaning over, she tried to grab the pen away. “Nick is not ugly. Far from it.”

Julie wrestled the pen back. “According to all the talk shows, an ugly man won’t ever cheat. He’ll be too grateful a beautiful woman like you deigned to notice him.”

Meghan rolled her eyes. “What kind of crazy list are you making?”

“Okay, you can find Mr. Fabulous by yourself.”

She picked up the paper. In addition to romantic and sensitive, Julie had written adventurous, daring, heroic. A deep sorrow filled her. It was a description of her late brother-in-law. She looked over at Julie.

“I loved him and I miss him, too, but—”

Her sister met her gaze with a sad smile. “It’s all right to say Kyle’s name.”

Memories of him flooded her mind, along with her own guilt over the way he died. “I’m sorry, Jules. It’s just that I’m not looking for a man who chases after danger. Like you said, I need someone I’ll be safe with.”

“Nobody understands your fears better than me. I’ll always be grateful for the times you came over to stay with me. It wasn’t easy being married to a cop, living every day in uncertainty, wondering every night if he would come home.” Her voice was edged with grief. “But I wouldn’t trade a single day we were together, despite how things ended.”

“Oh, Jules.”

Understanding passed between them as Julie wiped a hand under her eyes. “But, hey, you’re not looking for a husband anyway. Come on, let’s get back to Mr. Fabulous.”

Grateful to change the subject, Meghan took out a fresh sheet of paper. She silently made out a list that included her real wishes, as well as a number of silly qualities guaranteed to make Julie smile again.

“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.

“Shit. That can’t possibly be good.” Alex dropped onto the couch and massaged the still tender scar on his temple. “We better find out where Ramos has gone to ground.”

“It’s only a matter of time. We’ll get him.”

“That’s what you said six weeks ago,” Alex grumbled.

His partner’s voice was deceptively calm when he made an anatomically impossible suggestion.

“Sorry, Em. That was a lousy thing to say.” Alex dragged both hands through his hair, sighing heavily.

“Forget it.” Emelio crumpled the empty nut bag in his fist and arced it into the trashcan.

“This case should have been one for the books. Instead we’re scrambling to recover ground.” Alex had taken the lead after his friend got too close to a witness, an informant he’d felt sorry for. Gina had been a young woman caught in an impossible situation. She’d had no real choice but to betray him. Now, Braga, and who knew how many others could make Emelio for a cop.

“Let’s not rehash old business, partner.”

Emelio was right, but that incident had been a turning point in Alex’s career. Problem was, he didn’t know which way it had pushed him. Concentrate on the here and now, he told himself. “Okay. What have you heard?”

“Word on the street says Ramos is really losing it.” Emelio grabbed two beers out of the minibar and passed one over. “Spends more time supporting his habit than taking care of business. Some of the laundered money might even be in his private accounts instead of the cartel’s.”

Alex whistled in mock admiration. “Frankie must have balls of cold-rolled steel. Drug czars aren’t exactly known for their benevolence.”

“That or the shit he’s putting up his nose has fried his brain cells. Let’s focus on him. If we can break Ramos, he’ll flip on the rest in exchange for a light sentence.”

Alex rolled the beer bottle between his palms. “Rogelio Braga needs to be watched. I don’t think it’s a coincidence he invited me here this particular week.”

Em shook his head. “Forget Braga for now. If we get Ramos, we break the Miami cartel. Cocaine addiction makes a man paranoid and unpredictable, but it also makes him vulnerable.”

“Something big is going down. Braga had dinner with some heavy hitters tonight.” Alex stared at the ceiling, speaking slowly, running scenarios in his head. “He’s gathering his strength for a change of leadership. That’s going to fall out on participants, bystanders and innocents alike.”

“You’ve never been innocent, man.” Emelio scoffed, trying to make a joke of his concern.

But Alex hoped that Meghan was. He pulled the slim blue journal from his jacket. “Listen. I need you to run a check on somebody. Name’s Meghan Elise Foster. Her luggage is from Baltimore. Find out for me if she’s legit.”

“I take it she was your date.” Emelio studied his face, seeing more than Alex wanted him to, as usual. “You think the lady is a player?”

“Could be. She was cozy with Braga earlier tonight. Then she came on to me. There’s another factor that points to her innocence, but I need to be sure.”

His partner nodded. “I’ll put her name through the usual databases and see if I come up with anything. In the meantime, order me some food, will you? I’m starving.”

Alex called room service and ordered for both of them. It didn’t look like he’d get back to Meghan after all. Next he dialed from memory a number in Miami. The first call would automatically transfer to another line in case anyone checked the resort’s telephone log. While the phone rang, he lay back on the couch and adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“Hello? This is Brent Easton.”

Alex didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “It’s me. Em is with me. We’re checking in.”

Easton’s voice boomed over the telephone line. “Where the hell have you two been? I paged him an hour ago!”

“We’re making progress.”

“You’d better be. I’m getting flak from above and, trust me, I intend to send it down your way.”

Didn’t he always? Alex held onto his patience with effort. “Braga contacted me, though we haven’t hooked up. Em has solid information that Ramos is on his way here, if he’s not here already.”

“It’s a decent start but you have to move on this. You’ve got the rest of the week to get squared away. After that, the Ramos case is turned over to someone else.”

“The hell it is!” Alex sat up so quickly the pillow fell to the floor. He struggled to hold onto his temper, which had been dangerously short of late. “We’ve been building the case against Ramos for two years, Brent. You’re not taking us off it. Not when we’re so close—”

“You’d better play this one by the book, Alex. Do you hear me? Any action you take will be called into question until Internal Affairs clears you on the shooting.”

He scowled. Like he needed the reminder. Both he and Emelio had been on admin probation until this latest break in the case. “IAD can kiss my ass. I did what I had to to get the job done.”

“You know, you’ve got a real attitude problem lately.”

“Yeah, well, you can tell me all about it when you quit riding a desk. I haven’t lost my edge,” he said it as much to convince himself as his boss.

“Hell, if anything, your edges are too jagged,” Brent muttered. “Bring me up to speed.”

“‘Nick Alexander’ is definitely going to be brought into play. Since Manny Ortega got busted, Ramos needs another underground banker for the Miami operation. I’ll use Braga to get to him and get the info we need.”

“The Attorney General is demanding enough evidence to present to a federal grand jury. She wants it yesterday. Don’t screw up on this one.”

The line went dead before Alex could say another word. He hung up the phone, then looked around for his cigarettes. He felt the past stalking him like a dark shadow. Maybe he had lost his edge, those sharp instincts that too often meant the difference between making or breaking a case. Overtown had been a major screw-up. His.

He should have seen it coming. Somehow, he should have seen it. Emelio got too close to their informant but Alex backed him up in front of the brass, despite his misgivings. As a result, two people died and the bad guys got in the wind.

The underlying guilt made him think about Greg. Not long after he joined the DEA, his younger brother overdosed. All Greg’s life, Alex did his best to protect him. It was a hard truth to face that his best hadn’t been good enough.

Had it ever been enough? How long was it since he felt like he made any kind of difference? For eight years, he’d waded through the cesspool of the drug underworld. He’d kept friends and family at a distance in order to immerse himself in The Life. And still his sacrifices came down to bureaucratic bullshit and overturned convictions.

He was really starting to hate this damned job.

Wandering over to the French doors, he stepped out onto the balcony. He tapped the cigarette pack until one slid out, then pinched off the end. The stress he’d been under lately made it hard to quit. Smoking half a cigarette didn’t seem as bad.

He felt as if he was moving through life instead of living it. There was an emptiness inside him and he wasn’t sure who the hell he was anymore. Two months ago he was Andy Ruiz. Today he was Nick Alexander. And next week? Next month?

Emelio came out to stand beside him, resting his elbows on the railing. “I take it the brass is stepping up the pressure?”

He sucked in nicotine and stared into the distance. “I learned something when I was under deep cover in the Southwest a few years back, hombre.”

Emelio turned his head to look at him.

“I roughed up informants, watched criminals kill each other without losing any sleep. I even went so far as sampling the product to secure my identity. If you can name it, I probably did it.”

“I know, man. Your rep preceded you. What’s your point?”

“Supervisors usually look the other way when you cross the line, just as long as you get results and make them look good. Not this time. This time it’s all on the line.”

“Closing the Ramos case will go a long way to restoring our badges.” Emelio gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But maybe we should look into that investigation firm we’ve talked about.”

Alex shook his head and blew a stream of smoke into the night air. “We’ve got a mission and nothing’s going to keep me from seeing it through. This job means everything to me, Em. It’s all I’ve got.”

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