Bad Karma

unflattering. Not so with Daniel. It bathed him in a soft patina, light falling over sun-bleached eyebrows, revealing blond, curling eyelashes.

Her gaze dropped to the blond hair on his forearms, then to his hands. Strong hands, with fingers that were long and sensitive. Unbidden, a memory came to her, the memory of those fingers touching her, slipping inside her as she contracted around them. She put a hand to her mouth, remembering the pressure of his kiss.

She slowly came to realize that he was talking. His lips were moving, but she wasn’t listening. She pulled herself away from her erotic daydream, back to his voice.

So much for pretending the previous night never happened.

But apparently he’d been able to put it from his mind. Apparently it hadn’t been a big deal, because he was rambling on about the menu, wondering if she wanted something else.

By herself she would have ordered a milkshake-something with a lot of calories, something she’d never had trouble getting down. But she wasn’t by herself, so she just lifted the crescent roll.

“This is fine.” She took a bite, hoping it really would be fine.

The outside of the roll was flaky. Those flakes separated in her mouth, giving the roll a certain textured hairiness. She quit chewing and swallowed the piece whole, then quickly washed it down with coffee. She did the same with the next bite. By the time she’d finally finished three bites, Daniel was done. He pushed his plate away then got to his feet, leaving her to finish her breakfast in private.

In the bathroom, Daniel let out a long breath and raked a lock of tousled hair back from his forehead. This was going to be tough, having to spend the rest of the day in close proximity. Every time he as much as glanced at her he got a hard-on. He kept visualizing the way she’d looked as he held her against the wall, her eyes closed, head tipped back, lips parted.

He shaved and brushed his teeth, and when he stepped from the bathroom, he was relieved to see that Cleo had finished off the entire bowl of oatmeal, another crescent roll, and the glass of orange juice.

She patted her lips with the white cloth napkin. “I can’t eat another bite.”

And then he got to a subject he’d been pondering for quite some time. “I’ll bet they have rubbers in the gift shop.”

She grew very still. Was she considering? Checkout time wasn’t for several more hours. He wasn’t scheduled for duty until tomorrow.

She dropped her napkin on her plate then put her plate aside. “Yes.” She seemed preoccupied, as if giving more attention to something else going on in her head than the actual subject matter of their conversation. She looked at him and gave him a smile that almost knocked him down. “I’m sure they do.”

She was good, but she wasn’t that good. Maybe some other poor joker might have been taken in by her performance, but to him she was as transparent as glass.

He played along. It was sadistic, but he loved watching her get caught in her own trap. “I’ll go down and get a box of condoms,” he said. “And we can finish what we started last night.”

She got slowly to her feet.

What she wore was no more than a costume to her-the black skirt, the tiny top-but that knowledge made everything seem a little more dangerous, a little more erotic. Bad and sweet.

She crossed the carpet in her bare feet with their red toenails. She stopped in front of him and looked into his eyes. For the briefest of moments he thought maybe she wasn’t acting, maybe she wasn’t working him. In her eyes, he saw awareness of him as a man; in her eyes, he saw attraction and the memory of something hot, something clearly sexual.

He kissed her.

It was meant to be a teasing thing, but as soon as her lips opened under his, his head began to reel. He could feel himself falling under her spell just like any other blind idiot. He forced himself to pull away, to hold her at arm’s length. Her eyes were half closed, her lips parted, exactly the way they’d been the night before when he felt her tighten around his fingers. Her lipstick was smeared. He wiped at his own mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice sounding strained to his ears.

She didn’t answer. She only swallowed and nodded.

Cleo shoved her feet into her sandals, then grabbed her bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. From the top of the television, she snatched Daniel’s car keys.

At the door she checked the peephole. All clear.

She stepped out and pulled in a sharp breath as Daniel materialized in front of her, fingers wrapping around her arm.

“I decided you might like to come with me,” he said. “You know. To help me pick them out. I thought there might be a particular style you were partial to.”

He’d never had any intention of leaving her by herself. He seemed to know her too well. Or was he just adept when it came to the criminal mind? And was that what she was? A criminal?

Yes, taking pay for services not rendered would put her in that category.

Refusing to back down, she looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t have any preference about style. Just make sure you get the right size. I imagine small would be a good choice.” Did condoms even come in sizes? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. From the look on his face, she’d gotten her point across. People always said guys were hung up on size. What better way to get him back than an attack on his attributes?

“Small?” he said, quite obviously hoping he’d heard wrong.

She lifted her eyebrows, a silent but reluctant assent. ’Fraid so.

Worry and insecurity seeped into his eyes. She had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling. They both knew she’d held him in her hands, and there had been nothing small about him. She couldn’t believe how easily he was convinced otherwise.

“Does that bother you?” she asked, careful to keep her features neutral.

“No.” He shrugged. “No.”

He was almost as good at this as she was. It was as if they were standing in the hallway of the hotel, speaking their lines, playing parts.

“Don’t worry. I’ve heard size doesn’t really matter to women.”

His expression said, Yeah, right.

“In fact-” This was dangerous water. Did she want to go there? She’d told herself to forget about last night and here she was, throwing it in his face. But the fact that she could turn it around, that she could throw it back in his face, was oh so satisfying.

“Last night I really didn’t need…well, it at all.” She pretended to give the subject some deep thought. “In fact, I probably didn’t even need you.”

There, she thought, watching him with satisfaction. It’s erased. He’d been so smug, thinking he’d really taken her somewhere, thinking she’d been totally under his control, wanting him to go down on her anytime, anywhere. Let him think that she had never wanted him or needed him.

The insecurity in his face dissolved. She watched as a muscle twitched in his cheek. Keeping a grip on her arm, he stuck his card in the reader on the door behind her, waited for the green light, then opened the door, shoving her back inside.

At first she thought she’d gone too far, goaded him past his limit. Was he going to attack her? Force himself on her? Instead he shoved her away as if she sickened him. And that was what she’d been trying to do, wasn’t it? Sicken him? To make sure there wasn’t a replay of the previous night? She never wanted to find herself at his mercy again.

Sex with Jordan hadn’t been anything like that. It had never been that weak-in-the-knees, losing-control kind of thing. Together they had been more like two puppies snuggling in the sunlight. It hadn’t been dark. It hadn’t been mysterious. There had never been a need so great it overshadowed common sense.

Daniel Sinclair was like the very town he came from. He looked harmless on the surface, but underneath there was something going on, something she didn’t want any part of.

“Give me your bag.”

When she didn’t comply, he jerked it from her shoulder, opened it, unzipped the side pocket, and helped himself