Jaimie: Fire and Ice (The Wilde Sisters 2)
She batted her lashes. He pulled her to him, bent her back over his arm, and kissed her like the villain in an old movie.
“I see straight through your plan,” he growled. “Delilah did it with a haircut. You’re gonna do it with sex. You figure you’ll make me so weak I won’t be able to fight you for my fair share of pizza.”
“All the man can think about,” she said with grave assurance, “is his stomach.”
He dipped his head and kissed her breasts.
“Not all,” he said huskily.
Her eyes blurred with desire. He bit back a groan. He’d never been a slow starter, but he’d never been as ready for a woman as he was for her, each and every time. But not with that camera still tucked in among the silk flowers no more than six feet away, and the other camera doing its thing in her kitchen.
Zach raised her up, dropped a light kiss on her lips, turned her around and patted her on her backside.
“Get moving. And leave some hot water for me.”
Jaimie glanced over her shoulder. She stuck out her tongue. He grinned.
“Promises, promises,” he said.
He watched her walk into the bathroom, waited until he heard the sound of water drumming in the shower, waited some more until he heard the shower door shut.
Then he grabbed the basket of silk flowers, snatched the tiny camera, pulled on his jeans and slipped the camera in a pocket.
The shower was still going.
He raced to the kitchen, found the second camera and breathed a sigh of relief.
His jacket was lying on a chair in the tiny living room. In fact, most of their clothes were in the living room. They’d been in a rush to get naked when they’d come back an hour ago.
Zach turned his head in the direction of the bedroom.
The shower was still running. Good. He’d feel safer with the material on his cell phone deleted and the cameras themselves stashed in a pocket of his jacket.
He dug his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, ready to hit delete. His finger stilled over the button. He was a man dealing with a lover’s problems, but he was also a trained investigator. He hadn’t checked the downloads of either camera since last night.
It would only take a couple of seconds
The kitchen download was fine, if you were into endless footage of appliances.
Delete.
Now for the bedroom video. He’d run it in reverse, as fast as it would go, because he had to be damn near out of time.
He sped through the most recent stuff, taken only a couple of minutes ago, and, man, the footage of them making love right before that, which was a turn-on even to think about, and then there’d be footage of them dressing and, after that, the empty room taken when they’d gone out…
Zach froze.
Steven Young.
The camera caught him as he entered the room, first from the back, then in profile, then a full shot of him as he turned in a slow circle and gazed around him with the ease of a man out for a stroll.
Young ran his fingers over the top of Jaimie’s dresser. Pulled open the left top drawer stroked his fingers over what was inside it. Lingerie. Young shut his eyes, tilted back his head, lost himself in those long, slow caresses.
Zach tried to control his breathing. He’d seen lot of things in his life that had filled him with rage, but this…
Bile rose in his throat.
And it was his fault. His goddamn fault. What in hell had he been thinking? A prowler last night and he hadn’t done a thing to secure the place this morning.