Hot and Heavy (Some Like It Hot 2)

His dick tightened and throbbed as he imagined stripping her bare to inspect all the places the tattoo could be hiding on her body…on her breasts, between her thighs, that sexy spot just at the base of her spine…

Clearing his throat, he steered his thoughts to tonight’s business. “Are you ready to slip out of the ballroom when the auction starts?” he asked, his tone low so only she could hear.

She nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He studied her expression as they swayed to the music gradually slowing to an end, searching for signs of worry or unease, but found none visible. “Are you nervous?” he asked, just to make sure he knew her frame of mind before they went any further.

“Not at all,” she said with a realistic bout of confidence. “Actually, I feel energized. Do you ever feel that way when you’re working undercover on a case?”

He grinned, very familiar with the rush of excitement coursing through her at the moment. “All the time.” She was truly an amazing woman, and stronger and more competent than he ever would have given her credit for if she hadn’t asserted herself.

The song came to an end, and as much as Cole enjoyed holding her in his arms, they had a job to do, a client’s request to satisfy and Elena’s reputation to salvage. The attendees gathered around the stage and podium set up for the auction, anxious to bid on jewelry, artwork, and other collectibles, all for a good cause.

Jerry Thornton, a distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, took the microphone and formally welcomed everyone to the affair and went over the rules for bidding on a particular item.

“This is our cue to leave,” Cole murmured, and casually ushered Melodie away from the crowd. In the pretense of searching for the bathroom, they headed down a nearby hall to the west wing of the house, as Elena had instructed. They nodded politely to the few people they passed along the way, until the voices from the ballroom grew dim and they came upon the staircase leading to the first floor of the mansion.

Ducking under the strip of tape blocking off the entrance to keep guests from straying, they quietly descended the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, they made a right turn down a wide corridor lined with an imported rug, counted to the third set of double doors on the left-hand side of the hallway, and slipped inside the room.

The smell of expensive tobacco and genuine leather assailed Cole’s senses, and the moon filtering through the large window against the wall made the hardwood floor beneath their feet glow. Withdrawing his cellphone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he opened the flashlight app and switched it on so they could inspect the furnishings and the setup of the room.

The library was massive, with floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases, a huge mahogany desk in the middle of the spacious room and a sitting area to the right with a large couch and two wing chairs facing a fireplace. Thornton most definitely had a shit ton of money, and he wasn’t frugal about spending it, either.

“Elena said he kept the monogrammed leather box on the bottom shelf by the fireplace,” Melodie whispered, and headed in that direction.

Cole followed, impressed by her sharp memory and her take-charge attitude. She was here to find a letter for a client, and she was solely focused on the job ahead. When they reached the bookcase, they crouched low and he flashed the beam of light across the lower shelves until they found the leather box Elena had given Thornton.

Melodie carefully pulled the monogrammed case from its cubbyhole and set it on the rug covering the hardwood floor. “That was ridiculously easy,” she said, a thread of disappointment in her tone, as if she’d expected something more cloak-and-dagger.

Cole stifled a chuckle. “It’s not as though Thornton was expecting anyone to come looking for the box, so he had no reason to hide it.”

“Still, he should have been more cautious.” Glancing over her shoulder at him, she held out her palm. “Hand me the flashlight so I can start reading the letters for you.”

He did as she asked, unwilling to violate the terms of Elena’s request by peeking over Melodie’s shoulder, though he was sorely tempted. With her still kneeling on the floor near the fireplace, he sat in one of the wing chairs behind her, watching intently as she withdrew folded pieces of stationery, opened them up, and read the contents of each.

He kept an ear out for any sounds outside the library. All was quiet…except for the gradual deepening of Melodie’s breathing as she scanned the provocative correspondences shared between two lovers. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, and the glow of the flashlight wreathed her head in a soft halo of golden light and ill

uminated her profile and the pulse beating in her throat. Her lips were damp and parted, and she seemed mesmerized by the words, totally enthralled by whatever carnal fantasies Jerry and Elena had written for each other.

Cole shifted in the chair, feeling anxious and a little warm under the collar, and elsewhere. It seemed like hours had passed when it had only been a few minutes, but he had to do something to break the sexually charged silence in the room. “Did you find anything we can use yet?”

She wrenched her gaze away from a letter to look at him, her eyes glittering with lust. “No, not yet,” she said, her voice soft and sensuous in the quiet room. “But I can see why she didn’t want you to read these erotic letters. They’re making me blush.”

And aroused. He could hear the trembling desire in her voice, see the carnal need in her expression, feel her growing anticipation. And like an animal drawn to the scent of his mate, he could smell her arousal in the air, beckoning to him.

His chest heaved and his nostrils flared, and it was all he could do not to pounce on her and take her right there on the floor. Hard and fast and deep. Lord knew he’d been ready and able all week, his body craving hers in a primal, elemental way that was slowly driving him mad.

She bent back to her task, and he glanced around the library, distracting himself by taking a visual inventory of all of Thornton’s prized possessions.

“Here it is, Cole!” Melodie’s voice rose in excitement, then quickly dropped when she realized the need for secrecy. “I found the letter.”

He sat up straighter. “Are you sure it’s the right letter, the one where Thornton tells Elena he’s giving her the ring as a gift?” They only had one shot at this, and he didn’t want to leave with the wrong correspondence.

“I’m positive.” She shone the flashlight on the piece of paper and the bold, masculine writing filling the page. “It says right here at the end of all the risqué stuff, ‘With this ring, I pledge to you my undying devotion. A gift from my heart to yours, an eternal reminder of the love we share. This ring is yours always, as is my heart. Love, Jerry.’”

“That’s it,” he said, and came down to the floor to help her reorganize the letters she’d taken out of the box. “Put that letter in your purse and let’s get everything back where we found it so we can get the hell out of here.”

She tucked the folded piece of stationery into her small velvet purse, then helped him clean up. Mission accomplished, they stood, and took two steps across the sitting area when Cole heard voices drifting from down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second.