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A Perfect Storm(3)

By:Lori Foster


"Alani is preggers, remember?"

"I had heard." He also knew the pregnancy was a happy surprise, and in  no way had forced their decision to marry. "Does it bother you?"

"Of course not," she insisted. "But with all that going on, he doesn't need to be messing with me."

Dinner out, a small gift, cake and hugs … did she consider that too much fuss? "I think Jackson can handle it."

"Besides," she added, speaking over him, "I have a new identity,  remember? No going back and especially no celebrating give-away dates  like birthdays."                       
       
           



       

In an effort to help her, Jackson had covered her background, buried the  past for her as much as he could, and for her safety, he'd given her a  whole new identity, including a new name. It was a way to start over, to  start fresh.

But none of that would help Arizona heal from the past.

Uncomfortable with the moment, Spencer floundered, trying to find  something to say. He hadn't known her that long, and their acquaintance  had been fraught with danger. As a bounty hunter, he'd been tracking  criminal psychopaths-and the psychopaths had been tracking her.

Arizona, being outrageous in every way a person could imagine, had used  herself as bait. Along the way, Spencer had met Jackson and learned a  little about their history.

They presented their relationship as that of friends, or maybe siblings.  But the nuances of their connection made anything that simple  impossible. Not with Arizona's looks and not when Jackson had saved her  life.

Not when she'd once been held captive by human traffickers who, after  using her, had tried to kill her as punishment for running away.

Her death would have been a lesson to remaining trapped victims. Instead, the bastards had died-and good riddance.

Luckily-at least for Spencer's peace of mind-Jackson was already in love  with Alani, so his interest in Arizona wasn't romantic in any way. But  for Arizona? He just didn't know.

Jackson was a good man. A protector.

And right now, Spencer felt like a destroyer of evil. Nothing protective in that.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Arizona slugged him in the shoulder. "What  the hell is wrong with you? No one died. Lose the sad face, will you?"

He'd try. "So why are you here?" Remembering how she'd gotten in, he  turned to look at the door. "You didn't damage my lock, did you?"

"Your lock is fine-shitty, but fine." She propped her feet on the table in front of the couch. "I'm good at picking locks."

"Why am I not surprised?"

She stared down the length of her legs and wiggled her toes. Nonchalantly, she said, "I need some help."

Apprehension shot through him. "With what?" Had she gotten herself into trouble somehow? Was someone after her again?

"Promise me that you won't tell Jackson about this, either, and then I'll tell you."

Fearful for her, he said, "Sure, whatever. I won't tell Jackson."

"Hmm." Her eyes narrowed. "That was a mighty quick agreement."

"But sincere." At the moment, his biggest concern was her safety. "Spill it."

"All right." She went back to rubbing the corduroy, and it was such a  sensual thing, her hand moving slowly over the material, that Spencer  felt mesmerized. "There's this restaurant. Well, it's actually a sleazy  bar, but they do serve food during the day, too."

From any other woman, those words wouldn't cause much reaction. From  Arizona, they boded a looming catastrophe. "What bar? Where?"

"Don't look like that," she complained. "Until I know you're on board,  I'm not giving you details. Let's just say I suspect they're part of a  large-scale trafficking ring and maybe using forced labor. I want to  look into it. But I'm not dumb. I know I need some backup."

Dear God, Jackson looked into large-scale trafficking rings-not Arizona!  And he didn't work alone-he worked with other men who were equally  skilled.

They backed each other up-and they'd given Arizona computer duties in an  effort to involve her, while keeping her away from the more dangerous  action. She should have been doing no more than researching backgrounds  on small-scale, local-level traffickers.

Research only.

"I was thinking I could be bait again. You know, put myself out there  and see what happens. With you keeping watch, it'd be safe enough,  right? If they try to grab me, then we-"

"No." His temper shot into overdrive, on a par with his alarm. He said again, with more force, "No."

Unmoved, Arizona met his angry gaze-and shrugged. "Fine. I thought you  might want to team up, but I can figure it out on my own." She started  to leave the couch.

He again caught her arm.

Slim, warm and so soft …

As she stared at him, her blue eyes lit from a very short fuse. "I'd suggest you stop trying to manhandle me."

Hearing the deadly tone in her voice, Spencer opened his fingers. "Give me a second to think, will you?"

"Huh." At her leisure, she dropped back again. "So ‘no' with you isn't  necessarily no? It might mean something else? It could mean that you  just want time to think?"                       
       
           



       

She was making mincemeat out of him. He had to take control. "I don't  want you anywhere near anything dangerous, especially by yourself."

"Yeah, but see, you aren't my daddy, aren't my boyfriend, and you sure  as hell aren't anything in-between. So if you don't want to help, then  it's none of your damn business."

What did she consider in-between? "I want to make a bet with you."

Her interest perked up. "You do? About what?"

Already knowing it wouldn't go over well, Spencer braced himself. "I bet you can't go a month without cursing."

Her chin tucked in, and her brows came down. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He had no idea, except that it annoyed him to hear her be so coarse. "Go  a month without cursing." He hated himself, but he said, "Every time  you slip, you owe me a kiss."

Icy stillness fell over her. Silence pulsed in the room.

Tension gathered like storm clouds.

Pulling the tiger's tail, he asked, "Well?"

Eyes glittering, Arizona slowly pushed to her feet. "Fuck you," she whispered.

He could see a pulse tripping in her slim throat.

He could see the fear she tried so hard to hide.

"I suggested a kiss, Arizona. Nothing more. And despite what you said, ‘no' does mean ‘no' to me. You don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not!"

"You don't have to expect the worst, either." He didn't move from his  position on the couch, but with their gazes locked, it felt as if he  touched her all the same.

It disturbed him-so what would it do to her?

"I would never hurt you," he promised. "I'd do my best to protect you from anyone who would."

"I don't need you to protect me." Her eyes turned glassy, a little wet. "I can protect myself."

Not too long ago, she hadn't protected herself at all. And no one else had, either.

"You find kissing so repulsive?"

She shook her head but said, "I don't know." Then she added, "I haven't done much … kissing."

"No?"

Her teeth clenched; she spoke through stiff lips. "A guy who's paying  for his time doesn't want to waste it on that." In defiance, she added,  "Thank God."

Her words felt like a kick in the guts. "Arizona-"

"They saw me as unclean." Her chin jutted forward. "And I'm glad!"

Had she ever been given a sincere, caring, affectionate kiss? He just  didn't know. But they had to start somewhere, or she'd never be free of  her past.

He sat forward. "Given your expression, the idea of kissing me would be  insufferable, so I'm guessing it should be incentive enough to clean up  your language. Right?"

She took a step back, then another. Arms loose, bare feet braced apart, she prepared to fight.

After everything that had happened to him in the past three years, his  heart should have been encased in ice. Until Arizona, it had been.

Now, around her, everything felt as raw as a fresh, hot wound.

"You trust me," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "I don't trust anyone."

Slowly he stood and took a step toward her. "Yes, you do. You don't want  to, and I understand that. I really do. But that's no way to live and  you know it."

Shaking her head again, she whispered, "No." Then louder, "No!"

He stopped. "Why did you break into my house to tell me it's your  birthday? If you don't trust me, why did you leave my gun and knife on  the nightstand? If you're afraid of me, why are you here, asking me to  partner up with you?"