Blood and Roses (Shadow Stalkers 3)

When she opened the bathroom door, she knew immediately that Jake was home. There was a palpable energy in the air and it flowed over her, awakening her senses. She could hear the shower running in his bedroom and appreciated the time to finish prepping dinner. She smiled when she saw the white roses in a vase on the dining table and when she went to pull out the salad, she found one of Victoria’s famous cheesecakes in the fridge.

She was tossing the salad when she heard Jake pad into the kitchen behind her. A moment later, his arms were circling her and his lips were pressed to the side of her neck.

“Hi,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“Hi back.” Her head fell against his shoulder and she allowed herself the temporary luxury of leaning into him. His chest was bare, hard, and warm. “I like the flowers.”

“Good.” The tip of his tongue touched the lobe of her ear; then he caught it between his teeth. “I walked in the door and the smell of dinner made me hungry. Now I’ve smelled you and I’m starving.”

He wasn’t talking about food, she knew. That was proven when his hands slid down the flat plane of her stomach and gripped her thighs just beneath the hem of her baby doll.

“Did you get some work done?” he breathed, bending his knees to press his erection against the swell of her buttocks.

Ana became so aroused the denim of his jeans and the cotton of her baby doll might as well have not been there. She dropped the salad servers into the bowl, shaken by the lust that burned through her. It felt as if she’d been numb for ages and was suddenly reawakened to sensation, overwhelmed by the vibrancy of it after living through miserable loneliness. “Yes, I did. How was your day?”

“I spent the last half of it thinking about you and cursing the paperwork I needed to clear so I could stay home tomorrow.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Oh?”

“Before you leave my bed, Anastasia, you’re going to explain to me why we’re not together.”

“Jake—” Her words cut off as his fingers pushed under the elastic edge of her lace thong. She was slick and hot, primed for him by deprivation and the depth of her love. His fingertip slid between the lips of her sex, stroking through the moisture to tease her clitoris.

“You still want me.” He pulled her back against him and rolled his hips, making sure she felt the steely hardness of his erection. “And you know I’ve never stopped wanting you. We should be in the same bed every night and the same house every day. We both know it.”

He stepped back, removing his touch and leaving her bereft. “Can I help with anything?”

Ana shot a narrow-eyed glance at him over her shoulder and found him grinning unrepentantly. He wore a pair of soft, well-worn jeans that hung low on his hips and nothing else. His hair was longer than it had seemed with his hat on. Dark as night and glossy, his hair had always been a lure to her. She loved to run her fingers through it and clench it in her fists as he pleasured her.

“You can set the table,” she told him.

He washed his hands at the sink and set to work, not surprising her in the least by having all the necessary components of a dinner setting—cloth napkins, salad and dinner plates, silverware, and placemats. She could imagine him dishing up dinner for Eric every night, ensuring that his brother had as near to a traditional family life as possible.

How ironic that Jake had encouraged Eric to spend time with Frank. He’d thought the Miller family was ideal—the yarn shop owner, the computer guru, and their two kids. Jake believed Frankie would be a good influence on his troubled, grieving brother. He had no idea that her dad had been a hacker, her mom a fence, and Frankie covered everything in between.

It’d broken her heart not to clue him in. And now the heist was weighing heavily on her mind. So many secrets between them. Too many.

They sat down for dinner and Jake sliced the pot roast with quick efficiency.

“How’s Eric doing?” she asked him, as she poured the wine.

“Good. Although I wish he’d go to graduate school or join the military. He’s a smart kid and he works hard when he’s motivated. When he’s not, he doesn’t apply himself.”

“Frankie’s got the same problem. Lots of potential, too little drive. I’m afraid he’s been a bad influence on your brother.”

Jake slid a slice of pot roast off the end of the carving knife and onto her plate. “Are you kidding? Before Frankie came along, Eric was in and out of trouble all the time—shoplifting, vandalism, boosting cars. Frankie changed all that.”

“Frankie just taught Eric to be smarter about it, so he didn’t get caught.”

She sighed at the skeptical look he shot her. Like many cops, Jake couldn’t believe anyone could pull the wool over his eyes, especially not his own brother. But there weren’t many cops who ran across top-shelf grifters like her parents, and both she and Frankie had learned their lessons well.

He took a drink of his wine and asked, “So you’re passing through on a job? You still doing investigative work for insurance companies?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“What’s the job you’re on now?”

“Chasing down jewels taken during a heist, including a valuable tiara set with pink diamonds.”

“Oh?” His blue eyes flared with interest. “Big take?”

“Approximately forty million.”

He whistled. “How much do you get for the recovery?”

“Five percent.” She watched him do the math.

“Jesus, Ana. Up to two million?” He stared at her. “And you’ve been doing this a while.”

“Long enough. I guess it pays to think like a criminal.”

Jake looked down at his plate. They ate quietly for a while, each of them lost in private thoughts. Then he said, “You’re a good cook, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I took lessons after I got sick of eating take-out all the time.”

“Not having someone to share home-cooked meals with is a lonely life.” He took a bite and chewed, watching her thoughtfully. “Is the money why you never came back?”

She focused on cutting her meat. “Not the money, no.”

“Were you that unhappy here?”

“Jake.” Ana set her fork and knife down and met his gaze. “There are things you don’t know about me.”

“Bullshit. There’s nothing I don’t know about you, Anastasia. And nothing you don’t know about me.”

“Do you think someone’s a criminal whether they get caught or not?” She knew what his answer would be already. Jake had fully supported the local authorities when Eric had been caught committing a crime. Eric suffered the same punishments as anyone else in town would.

“Of course.”

“Well, then I’m a criminal, Jake. And a good, honest cop like you can’t spend his life with a woman who skates the line and occasionally falls over it.”

He picked up his wine and sat back then, studying her with those cool cop’s eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but let me ask you this: What the hell do you expect me to do if you’re the only woman I’ll ever want? Be alone? You can’t be that cruel, Ana.”

“And you can’t compromise your principles for me. Eventually, it’ll ruin what we have.”

“What do we have? Two lonely, miserable lives? I’d love to fuckin’ ruin that.” He took a drink and held her gaze over the rim of his glass.