Page 10 of Convincing Alex (Stanislaskis #4)

to, deepened it more than he had planned. But he was still in control. Maybe, for just a moment, he imagined what it would

be like to lock the door, to sweep all those papers off the table and take her, fast and hot, on top of it.

But he wasn’t a maniac. He reminded himself of that, even as his blood began to swim. A slow and gentle touch brought pleasure

to both, and let a woman see that she was appreciated for everything she was.

“Dangerous,” he murmured in Ukrainian as he slid his mouth from her. “Very dangerous woman.”

“What?” She blinked at him with eyes that were arousingly unfocused and heavy. “What does that mean?”

He had to make a conscious effort to keep his hands gentle at her shoulders. “I said I have to go. Keep off the streets, McNee.”

She called to him as he reached the doorway. “Detective.” Her heart was thumping, her head was reeling, but she really hated

not having the last word. For lack of anything better, she dredged up an old line from “Hill Street Blues.” “Let’s be careful

out there.”

Alone, she lowered herself into a chair, as carefully as an elderly aunt. Five minutes later, Lori found her in exactly the

same spot, still staring into space.

“Uh-oh.” One look had Lori dropping down beside her. With a shake of her head, she handed Bess a fresh soft drink. “I knew

it. I knew this was going to happen the minute I saw that gorgeous cop at your party.”

“It hasn’t happened yet.” Bess took a long drink. Funny, she hadn’t realized how dry her throat had become. “I’m afraid it’s

going to, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“You had that same look on your face when you fell for Charlie. And for Sean. And Miguel. Not to mention—”

“Then don’t.” Frowning, she focused on Lori. “Miguel? Are you certain? I was sure I had better taste.”

“Miguel,” Lori said ruthlessly. “Granted, you came to your senses within forty-eight hours, but the day after he took you

to the opera you had the same stupid look on your face.”

“We saw Carmen, ” Bess pointed out. “I don’t think the look had anything to do with him. Besides, I’m not in love with Alexi, I’m just having

dinner with him tomorrow.”

“That’s what you always say. Like with George.”

Bess’s shoulders straightened. “George was the sweetest man I’ve ever known. Being engaged to him taught me a lot about understanding

and compassion.”

“I know. You were understanding enough to be godmother to his firstborn.”

“Well, after all, I did introduce him to Nancy.”

“And he promptly dumped you and ran off with her.”

“He didn’t dump me. I wish you wouldn’t hold that against him, Lori. Breaking our engagement was a mutual decision.”

“And the best thing to happen to you. George was a wimp. A whiny wimp.”

Because it was precisely true, Bess sighed. “He just needed a lot of emotional support.”

“At least you never slept with him.”

“He was saving himself.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Once she caught her breath, Bess shook her head. “I should never have told

you that. It was indiscreet.”

“Observation,” Lori announced, and Bess gestured a go-ahead. “The cop isn’t going to save himself.”

“I know.” Bess felt the warning flutter in her stomach. Thoughtfully she drew her finger down through the moisture on the

bottle. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Bess, you don’t cross bridges, you burn them.” Lori gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t get hurt.”

There was a touch of regret in Bess’s smile. “Do I ever?”

Alex liked the way she looked. It took a certain panache, he supposed, to be able to wear the jade-toned blouse with bright

blue slacks, particularly if you were going to add hot-pink high-tops. But Bess pulled it off. Everything about her was vivid.

He supposed that was why he’d gone into her office to apologize and ended up asking her out.

It was probably why he hadn’t been able to get her, or the idea of taking her to bed, out of his mind since he’d met her.

For herself, Bess took one look at Zackary Muldoon’s bar, Lower the Boom, and knew she had a relaxed, enjoyable evening in

store. There was music from the juke box, a babble of voices, a medley of good, rich scents. The tangle of pear-shaped gemstones

at her ears swung as she turned to Alex. “This is great. Is the food as good as it smells?”

“Better.” He gave a wave in the general direction of the bar as he found them a table.

As usual, the bar was cluttered with people and thick with noise. Since his sister had married Zack, Alex had made a habit

of dropping in once a week or so, and he knew most of the regulars by name. He grinned at the waitress who stopped at their

table. “Hey, Lola. How’s it going?”

“It’ll do, cutie.” Resting her tray on her hip, Lola gave Bess the once-over. Though less than ten years Alex’s senior, Lola

had taken a maternal interest in him. It wasn’t often Alex brought a date into the bar, and Lola made it her business to check

out his current lady. “So, what can I get you?”

“Tequila.” Bess dropped her bag in the empty chair beside her with a thunk. “Straight up.”

Alex only lifted a brow at Bess’s choice. “Give me a beer, Lola. Rachel around?”

“Upstairs. And she better have her feet up.” She gave the ceiling a scowl. “She’ll probably sneak down here before the night’s

over. Can’t keep her away from the boss.”

“What’s Rio’s special tonight?”

“Paella.” Her eyes lit with appreciation. She’d sampled some herself. “He’s been driving Nick crazy, making him shell shrimp.”

“You game for that?” Alex asked Bess.

“You bet.” As Lola wandered off, Bess propped her chin on her hands. “So, who’s the boss, who’s Rio, and who’s Nick?”

“Zack’s the boss.” He gestured toward the tall, broad-shouldered man working the bar. “Rio’s the cook, this Jamaican giant

who’ll fix you the best meal this side of heaven. Nick’s Zack’s brother.”

Bess nodded. She liked to know the players. “And Rachel’s married to Zack.” After a long study of the man behind the bar,

she smiled. “Impressive. How’d she meet him?”

“She was Nick’s PD after I busted him for attempted burglary.”

Bess didn’t blink or look shocked, she simply leaned a little closer. “What was he stealing?”

Alex was vaguely disappointed that he hadn’t gotten a reaction. “Electronics—and doing a poor job of it. He was tangled up

with a gang at the time. This was about a year and a half ago.” Absently he toyed with the square-cut aquamarine on her finger,

watching it catch the light. “Nick had some problems. Actually, he’s Zack’s stepbrother. Nick was still a kid when Zack went

off and joined the navy and his mother died. Anyhow, when Zack came back a few years ago, his father was dying, and the kid

was chin-deep in trouble.”

“This is great.” Bess beamed up at Lola as their drinks were served. “Thanks.”

The smile did it. Lola sent Alex a look of approval before she swung by the bar to report to Zack.

“Don’t stop now.”

Alex lifted his mug of beer. He knew very well that Lola was giving Zack a sotto voce rundown of her impressions and opinions

of his choice of companion. “You want to hear the whole thing?”

“Of course I do.” Bess sprinkled salt on her wrist, licked it, then tossed back the tequila with all the flair of a Mexican

bandit. While she sucked on the lime wedge Lola had brought with the drink, she grinned at Zack. “I like the zing.”

“How many times can you do that and live?”

“I haven’t tested it that far.” The liquor left a nice trail of heat down her throat and into her stomach. “I did ten once,

but I was younger then, and stupid. So keep going.” She leaned forward again. “Zack came back after sailing the seven seas

and found his brother in trouble.”

“Well, Nick was tangled up with the Cobras...” Alex began. By the time their paella was served, he was enjoying himself.

It always polished a man’s ego to have a woman’s complete and fascinated attention. “So that’s how I ended up on the point

of having an Irish-Ukrainian niece or nephew.”

“Terrific. You’ve got a flair for storytelling, Alexi. Must be some Gypsy blood in there.”

“Naturally.”

She smiled at him. All he needed was a hoop of gold in one ear and a violin, she thought—but she was sure he wouldn’t want

to hear it. “It doesn’t hurt that you have this wisp of an accent that peeks out now and then. Of course, your material’s

first-rate, too. I’m a sucker for happy endings. I can’t have many of them in my field. Once we tie things up, we have to

unravel them again, or we lose the audience.”

“Why? I thought most people went for the happy ending.”

“They do. But in soaps, a character loses the edge if he or she isn’t dealing with some crisis or tragedy.” She sampled the

paella and sighed her satisfaction. “That’s why Elana’s been married twice, had amnesia, was sexually assaulted, had two miscarriages

and a nervous breakdown, went temporarily blind, shot a former lover in self-defense, overcame a gambling addiction, had twins

who were kidnapped by a psychotic nurse—and recovered them only after a long, heartrending and perilous search through the

South American jungles.” She took another glorious bite. “Not necessarily in that order.”

Before Alex could ask who Elana was, Lola was setting down fresh drinks. “You watch ‘Secret Sins’?” she asked Bess.

“Religiously. You?”

“Well, yeah.” She shrugged, knowing there were several patrons in the bar who’d rag her about it. “I got hooked when I was

in the hospital having my youngest. He’s ten now. That was back when Elana was a first-year resident at Millbrook Memorial

and in love with Jack Banner. He was a great character.”

“One of the best,” Bess agreed. “Brooding and self-destructive.”

“I was really sorry when he died in that warehouse fire. I didn’t think Elana would ever get over it.”

“She’s a tough lady,” Bess commented.

“Had to be.” When someone called her, Lola waved to them to wait. “If it hadn’t been for her, Storm would never have gotten

himself together and become the man he is today.”

“You like Storm?”