Page 3 of Temptation and Treachery
Chapter Two
Rio gave an inward smile as the rental clerk, who’d offered them a ride, turned the corner toward the hotel and Celeste’s skirt went riding up well-defined thighs. She sat next to him on the bench seat, her crossed legs angled toward him thanks to the gearshift in the ancient Chevy truck. The woman must be a runner if he had to guess. He’d never understood leg men. The first thing they did was toss those legs apart to claim the prize. But watching her fingers chase after the hem, he had the urge to explore the skin along the slope of her thighs—with his mouth. He grimaced inwardly. Those thoughts shouldn’t be in his head. A woman like her had no business being with a guy dragging his kind of baggage.
“Here ya go.” The old timer pulled over to the curb in front of the Breman Hotel. “They got some good food at that cafe up the street.” He pointed to a sign. “The missus loves the Danish at the coffee shop back there. And a few places fer you ta get some clothes since the airline lost your luggage.”
“Thank you.” Celeste gathered her purse and coat.
Rio checked the surroundings from behind his shades. Clearing the area was ingrained, out of necessity. He grabbed his duffel off the floorboard, throwing the strap over his shoulder as he stretched across her for a handshake. “Thanks, Bud.”
“Eh, no worries.”
Rio stepped into the chilly air, scanning the other side of the street while he offered Celeste a hand. Seconds ticked by before cold fingers tentatively slipped into his, as he’d expected. She’d been raised with manners, and a good deal of money, if her clothes were any indication. Classy, yet low key.
Most people at the airport had looked right past her, or through her, but to him, she stood out from everyone else, in more ways than one. With her down-turned head and graceful manner she was the picture of innocence—which was a crying shame. He looked back just as her skirt did another one of those peekaboo things when she stepped out. Yeah, a crying shame. He couldn’t have stopped himself from looking if he tried.
Yanking back her hand, she shut the door and then pulled on her coat, missing the sleeve. Distracted, she caught her shoe in a tree root punching through the battered sidewalk. “Whoop—”
Rio reached out in a purely reflexive attempt to catch her. Every softly rounded curve he’d been itching to explore landed in his arms, settling against him. He held her and watched, fascinated, as she shuffled emotions across her face in a split second, like she’d done on the plane. Eyes widening in shock. Brows drawing together in embarrassment, then releasing as she discovered his hard-on pressing against her belly. And finally, her lips parting in a sharp breath.
His cock stiffened further, hard enough to separate them under any other circumstance. Meanwhile, little Miss Innocent stared at his mouth like he held the answer to life itself. He ran his thumb along her lower back. “You okay?”
She set her forehead on his shoulder but didn’t move. “I may never be okay again.” Her whispered confession held such a woeful note, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
His unexpected bark sounded strange to him. How long had it been? He shook his head. Celeste, with her angelic appearance, had more layers than he’d initially thought. She hid behind the appearance of a very proper librarian, but he recognized a disguise when he saw it.
She’d no more been reading on the flight than he’d been sleeping. Though she’d kept it on the down low, he knew a good eye fucking when he was on the receiving end. Her tight little ass squirmed in her seat when she’d caught sight of the tent in his pants. Then, to his utter surprise, she’d tried taking a picture. No ICE agent worth his salt would let that happen. Not when a cartel could put a face to the target on his back.
A perverse need to see her reaction made him put her on the spot. Again, he’d been stunned, watching emotions flash across her features, hinting at something complicated and fascinating deep inside. He’d never chased a woman before, but when she bugged out, he’d tracked her with the same determination he hunted his marks. The lack of rental cars rattled her, and once she’d finished her lost luggage claim, all the taxis were out. So she’d had no choice but to accept the ride and sit next to him on the way to town. He grinned.
Now here they were, all alone, in a place nobody knew them. She was full-bodied and curvy, but he’d easily toss her over his shoulder and find the first quiet corner to set her down, straight onto his hard cock.
Fuck.
He caught himself. Celeste wasn’t a dark-corner girl. If she was, he wouldn’t be so turned on by her response. Damn it. Those blue eyes may be sparkling with interest, but she’d end up with way more than she bargained for. Women like her didn’t sleep with a guy without some promise of tomorrow, and he didn’t go past right now.
Pushing back, she straightened as a blush stole across her pale features. He scooped up her coat, wrapping it across her shoulders. “Come on, let’s check in, then we can grab lunch.”
“Th-that’s okay.” She ran her hand along her temple, down to where a flat clip held her hair at the base of her neck. “I, um…”
Yeah, he should get himself to a room, or better yet, call one of the guys in Dallas to airlift him out. According to a reliable C.I., one of his top marks was coming to Houston. He’d been called in to organize his men and track the son of a bitch. It was a hell of a time to be stranded.
He should call. He should go. He should be there. Instead, he took a step, getting Celeste moving with a hand at the curve of her lower back.
“Careful,” he said, redirecting her attention to the uneven sidewalk. He pulled open the door, guiding her into the hotel ahead of him.
Looking over her head, he found a scrawny kid in his twenties at the front desk. The kid stood perfectly straight, his heavily starched, white shirt standing away from his shoulders.
A stiff, uncomfortable vibe filled the room, so he let her take the lead as he surveyed the area.
“Welcome to the Breman Hotel,” the clerk said in a tight voice. “Do you have a reservation?”
“No.” Rio watched with interest. Celeste seemed to find her voice as soon as he was out of sight. “I was hop—”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He went on as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Do you have rooms?” She went still.
“Yes.” The kid adjusted his glasses, and Celeste visibly relaxed. “But the internet went down forty minutes ago, so I can’t review the registrations.” He held up a clipboard with handwritten names, all in straight lines, with precise lettering.
