Profiling Nathan: Romancing the Guardians, Book Five Page 7

  “Jesus!” Nate cursed, taking in the devastation from over her shoulder.

  “Shhh!” Holding up her hand in a staying signal, she stepped quietly into the room, gun gripped in both hands, and darted a swift glance around the corner of the open bathroom doorway. Nothing. Nor was anyone hiding behind the shower curtain when she pushed it aside.

  Ignoring her signal to remain in the hall, Nate had followed her in. Crushing broken glass beneath his shoes, he crossed to the far side of the bed, checking to see if the fiend who’d done this might be crouched there. Darn man! He should have let her do that. He could have been shot or stabbed if the intruder was hiding there. Finding no one, he shook his head.

  There was only one other possible hiding place: the room’s small closet. Stealthily approaching it, Talia set herself and yelled, “Police!” She jerked the door open and gasped. Rather than the vicious, knife-wielding intruder, she found more of his handiwork. Her new suits and blouses, as well as her trusty old black suit hung in tatters from their hangers. Even her black pumps lay slashed apart on the closet floor.

  Snarling in rage, she lowered her Glock, wishing she could use it on the fiend who’d done this. “He’s long gone,” she said through her teeth.

  Nate stood staring at the wall opposite the topsy-turvy bed. Glancing at her, he said grimly, “The bastard left you a message.”

  Taking a deep breath, she crossed to his side, being careful where she stepped. Turning to face the wall, she gave a strangled cry. Her gun dropped from her nerveless fingers, though she hardly noticed.

  The message read, Go back where you came from or die, bitch! It was scrawled across the wall in dripping red paint.

  Talia wanted to scream and run as far and as fast as possible. In the next instant, her weakness appalled her. Get hold of yourself! You’re an FBI agent, for God’s sake! Nevertheless, she shivered and hugged herself, cold with fear.

  Nate stepped close and turned her into his arms, lending her his strength and much needed warmth. “Don’t look,” he said, pressing her face to his chest.

  “Who would do this?” she muttered, clinging to him, quaking inside.

  “I’m betting it was Ortiz and his flunkies. If it was, I’ll teach the assholes a lesson they won’t forget,” he growled through his teeth.

  “But why would they tell me to go back where I came from? Neither of us told them I’m from out of town, as I recall.”

  “No, we didn’t,” he said slowly. “You’ve got a point, but if they didn’t break in here, who did?”

  One answer was inescapable. “It could have been the killer of those three women. Maybe he somehow found out I’m aiding with the investigation.”

  Nate uttered a string of curses. “And you being a fed has him scared spitless.” He tightened his embrace as if to protect her from the murderer. “But how does he know who you are and where to find you?”

  She caught her breath and looked up, eyes wide. “If he’s one of the people we talked to at the tattoo parlors, he does know exactly who I am.”

  “Damn! And I led you right to him. I might as well have tattooed a target on your back.” He looked away, features laden with guilt.

  “No, don’t blame yourself.” She caught his chin, making him meet her gaze. “You only did what Lovett and I wanted you to do.”

  One corner of his mouth crooked up. “Fine, there’s enough blame to go around. Right now, we’d better call the cops.”

  “Right. I’ll call and see if I can get hold of Lovett. He needs to know what we suspect about who did this.”

  As Nate had predicted, Detective Lovett had the day off, but Talia convinced the on duty detective to contact him, insisting the breakin to her hotel room might be related to the Ybor City murders. Lovett arrived twenty minutes later accompanied by two uniformed officers, who stationed themselves outside the room’s open door, holding at bay curious hotel staff and guests. Walking in, the detective paused to glance around. He whistled and shook his head at the wreckage.

  “Nice mess you’ve got here,” he commented to Talia. Then he cocked a bushy eyebrow at Nate. “I didn’t expect to find you here, Maguire.”

  “Talia and I went boating this afternoon,” Nate replied. “When I brought her back, we found her room trashed.”

  “I see. Lucky she was out with you when the breakin occurred. I mean the perp couldn’t have known she’d be gone, right?” Suspicion rang in Lovett’s question and lurked in his unswerving stare.

  Was he implying that Nate had somehow engineered the incident? Talia eyed him in disbelief. Next to her, Nate stiffened, withdrew his hands from his pants pockets and crossed his arms. He scowled at the older man, a muscle jumping along his jaw.

  “No, he couldn’t have known,” he said in a steely voice. “Unless, of course, he followed us to the marina and watched us board my boat and leave.”

  “Hmm.” Lovett scratched his whiskered jowls and nodded. “I guess that’s possible.” Turning his attention to the destroyed room, he stepped gingerly through the mess and halted to glower at the threatening message on the wall.

  “Damn! He’s an arrogant SOB to openly threaten an FBI agent. From what you told one of my men, Agent Werner, I take it you think our serial killer is to blame.”

  “I can’t be sure. There is another possibility.” Talia told him about Ortiz and his gang, adding that she didn’t know how they might have learned where she was staying.

  Lovett sighed. “Well, regardless of who made the threat, it looks like you’ll need round-the-clock protection if you remain in Tampa.” He faced her with a stern expression on his bulldog face. “Much as I appreciate your help, I strongly advise you to leave town. I don’t want another murdered woman on my hands, much less a fed.”

  “Agreed,” Nate said promptly. “I have a place a little north of here. You’ll be safe there,” he told Talia. “We can leave tonight.”

  She glanced back and forth between the two men. “I’m not in the habit of running from danger, gentlemen.” Although she longed to do exactly that, she privately admitted, insides churning.

  Nate frowned then laid his hands on her shoulders. “I get that, but if you clear out for a while, whether it was Ortiz or the Ybor City killer who did this, he’ll think he scared you off for good. He won’t be stalking you if and when you return.”

  She dropped her gaze, thinking. His argument made good sense. “Alright, I’ll go, but only for a couple days,” she conceded, with the understanding that Lovett would contact her if any likely suspects were brought in.

  Nate called Misty and arranged for her to run his shop for a few days. Talia gathered her belongings, what was left of them. When it came to settling her bill, she had a brief, unpleasant discussion with the hotel manager. Irate over the damage to her room, he demanded she pay for the necessary repairs. She told him she was a government agent and he would need to submit the bill to her boss at the FBI. He spluttered some but shut up after that.

  A short while later she and Nate were on the road, driving through the dark, to exactly where he had not said, and Talia hadn’t asked. She didn’t care. The more she brooded over the situation, the more she wanted to kick herself for letting him convince her to leave, no matter how solid his reasoning. Her boss, Dave, would not approve.

  Thinking of Dave, she was surprised he hadn’t called to find out what progress she’d made in solving the murders. Not that she was the only agent he had to keep track of. Hardly. He’d sounded snowed with work when she last spoke to him. Still, she’d better call –”

  “You okay?” Nate asked, breaking into her thoughts. “You’re very quiet.”

  “I … I’m shaken up, I guess. It was bad enough finding the room torn apart and my things ruined. But that message on the wall really got to me,” she admitted, letting go of her pride.

  “The bastard threatened your life. That would shake anybody up.”

  “Perhaps, but I’m ashamed of myself.”

  “What for?” He l
aughed incredulously. “You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into leaving with you,” she said, twisting her hands together.

  He was slow to reply. “You’re having second thoughts about staying with me? I assumed after today you’d be alright with it. I guess I was wrong.” His voice sounded hard. His dark profile appeared carved in stone.

  “No, you misunderstand.” She reached out to touch his arm. “I welcome spending time with you, but I feel like a coward running away like this, even for a day or two.”

  “Ah, baby, don’t look at it that way,” he said in a softer tone. Capturing her hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re no coward. Retreating to fight another day is a tactic that’s won many battles. I bet on my mom’s memory you’ll win this one in the end.” He slapped the spot on his chest where Talia remembered he wore a tattoo of a single white rose.

  Her eyes stung. “Thank you, Nate. I hope you’re right,” she said, voice tight with emotion. Clearing her throat, she asked, “The white rose on your chest is in honor of your mother?”

  “Yeah. I named my boat after her too. The rose is the first tattoo I ever did.”

  “You tattooed yourself?” She blurted, gaping at him in the dark.

  “I did.” He chuckled at her obvious shock.

  “But I’ve heard the process is painful. How could you stand to do it to yourself?”

  “It’s not so bad, and I’d had tats done in prison by guys whose technique wasn’t exactly gentle. So I was prepared for some discomfort.”

  “Would you tattoo me?” she asked impulsively.

  He shot her a shadowed glance. “Are you serious? I thought you viewed tats as mutilation.”

  “I did, but I’ve changed my opinion. Sort of.” She stared out into the night. “I still wouldn’t care to be covered in tattoos, but one or two small ones might be fun.”

  “Right on! And I’d be honored to ink them for you. Do you have any particular designs in mind?”

  “You’ll probably think I’m ghoulish,” Talia said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “but I really like that blue butterfly you did on one of the dead women.”

  “You’re not ghoulish. That’s a popular choice for women, and I know just where I’d like to put it on you.”

  “Where?” Seeing his flash of white teeth, she wanted to bite back the question.

  “On the inside of your thigh.”

  She snorted. “I knew you’d say something like that. But why would I want a tattoo where no one can see it?”

  “I’d see it,” he said with a sexy laugh.

  She caught her breath. “Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Maguire?”

  “No, but I think you know what we shared on the island was pretty damn special. And I hope you’ll want to find out if it was just a one-time thing or if it happens again, and again.” He spoke in total seriousness now, leaving her speechless as they sped along, cocooned together through the night.

  Talia turned her face away and pondered what he’d said. She couldn’t deny their lovemaking was special. She’d felt as if they were one being in body and soul, soaring beyond earthly bounds into a realm of pure feeling. Never had she experienced anything so glorious, not even with her ex-husband. But then, their marriage had been one of shared interests and career goals. Sex had been a perfunctory joining once a week in the beginning, and not at all toward the end.

  Shunting the unhappy memories aside, she wondered, like Nate, if the extraordinary bond they’d shared on the island might happen every time they made love.

  She was dozing lightly a while later when they turned off the main road onto a narrower drive. Blinking, she saw signs along the way but didn’t catch what they said as she rubbed her eyes. Nate drove to three entry gates, stopping at the south-most gate.

  “Welcome to Paradise Lakes,” he said. “It’s a resort with condos surrounding it. I own one of the condos.”

  “You own a fancy boat and a condo? You must be doing very well with your tattoo parlor,” she said in considerable awe.

  “Not that well,” he scoffed. Reaching for a device attached to his sun visor, he pressed a button that slowly opened the gate and raised a barrier arm. “The shop pays my bills, but I bought the condo and boat with money left to me by my father. His widow, my dear stepmother, was furious. She didn’t want me to get one penny.”

  “That’s awful! How could she be so vindictive?” she said, shaking her head.

  He eased the car past the gate and shrugged. “I gave her cause to hate me, and vice versa. She threatened to contest Dad’s will, but I made an offer she couldn’t refuse.” He laughed bitterly. “If she would agree not to air the family’s dirty linens in court, I promised she’d never see me again. She went for it, and we haven’t laid eyes on each other since.”

  “But what about your brother? Do you get to see him?”

  Driving along a dimly lighted lane, he didn’t answer at first. Finally, he said, “No, not for the past four years. He’s grown and on his own now but he’s a mama’s boy. He believes everything she says about me and, like her, he wants nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s sad.” She had a hard time understanding how his stepmother could justify keeping the brothers apart, no matter how difficult matters stood between her and Nate.

  “We’re here,” he said, stopping outside a complex of two-story buildings. “These condos are called The Terraces. My place is on the ground floor. We’ll go in through the garage.” He clicked another electronic opener and the door of a single-car garage glided quietly up.

  Moments later, Talia stood admiring his spacious, handsomely appointed living room and open kitchen with its granite countertops, generous cabinets and sparkling stainless steel appliances. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Thanks.” Leaning against the eating peninsula that divided the two rooms, he crossed his arms and smiled proudly. “I was lucky to nab this place. Two other people bid on it.”

  “Yes, very lucky. Did it come furnished?”

  “Ha! I wish. The sellers took everything but the dishwasher and stove top. And I’m no good at picking out furniture. Thank God Misty volunteered to go shopping with me, or I’d be sitting on the floor and sleeping on an air mattress.”

  Talia stared at him in surprise. “Misty helped you choose all this?” she asked, gesturing at the luxuriously upholstered couch and chairs, the tables, lamps and other accessories.

  He nodded. “I think she did a great job, don’t you?”

  “Yes, great.” She glanced around again. The girl did have good taste in furnishings – and in men. Feeling irrationally jealous, she said, “I imagine you brought her to see the place before the two of you went shopping.”

  “Yeah, she insisted on looking it over and measuring the rooms. There are three bedrooms, by the way, but I use one as an office and storeroom.”

  “Mmm.” Crossing to the sofa, she stroked the thickly padded arm, finding the taupe suede upholstery as soft as a kitten’s fur. “Has Misty returned to see the results of her efforts?”

  “I brought her back once.” Nate made a face and rubbed the back of his neck. “She wanted to try out my bed – with me in it. I had to set her straight on a few things.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head, studying him. “So you aren’t attracted to her?”

  “Hell no!” He frowned at her as if she were crazy. “She’s just a kid. I’m old enough to be her father.”

  “Some men would find that a turn-on.”

  “I’m not some men. I prefer a real woman.” He winked and trained a sensual grin upon her, making her blood race.

  Conjuring her most seductive smile, she strolled up to him and ran her finger slowly down his chest. “Any woman in particular?”

  He caught her finger. His umber eyes gave off a fiery glow. Straightening away from the peninsula, he wrapped an arm around her, raised the offending digit and drew it into his mouth. When he
sucked on it, bolts of lightning shot straight to her pleasure center. She gasped and closed her eyes in reaction. Releasing her finger, he bent and nuzzled her throat.

  “Definitely one woman. One very special woman,” he whispered. Then he swung her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom. Soon, he had her naked and writhing beneath his kisses and caresses.

  “I need you inside me! Please, Nate!” she implored.

  “Not yet, sweetheart. I want this night to be special for you.” With that, he lay between her thighs and brought her to peak after peak with his mouth before he finally entered her and took his own pleasure. And that wasn’t the end of it. He took her in ways no man had ever introduced her to, perhaps because they’d all thought her too prim and proper for such adventurous positions. More fool they!

  Nate’s athletics made her appreciate the king size bed Misty had convinced him to buy. She was also incalculably glad the little twit had never shared the bed with him.

  Nate held her close, sated after their lovemaking and thankful just to have her safe by his side. Fury still boiled within him, directed at the creep who’d wrecked her hotel room and left her the ugly message. He longed to beat hell out of the bastard and finish him off with his freakish gift, out of sight from Tally. He’d never unleashed his power in front of a woman, except once as a boy when he’d wanted to scare his domineering stepmother. His father had blistered his butt for that prank, he recalled with a grin.

  How would Tally – everything he could want in a woman but still an FBI agent – react if she discovered what he really was? Would she think him some kind of monster to be locked up or killed? He wasn’t ready to find out.

  She sighed and curled against him, one leg bent across his thighs. He smiled and gently stroked her back, drawing a contented purr from her throat. How would she feel tomorrow when she learned what kind of community they were in? He’d deliberately not forewarned her, figuring she’d refuse to go with him, and she obviously hadn’t noticed the signs at the entrance, or she probably would have balked.