Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down Read online

  Rhea covered her lips with her hand as she struggled with the pain that still ached raw and deep inside her soul. She always got emotional when she thought of her parents. How could she not?

  It was something she struggled with every day, and not even the passage of time could take away the sting of it. That was the bad thing about senseless violence. It left a haunting mark on the lives it scarred.

  She didn't want to talk about it and yet she found herself confiding in him for some reason she couldn't even begin to understand. "Do you remember Pan Am flight 103?"

  "The Lockerbie, Scotland, bombing?"

  "Yeah," she said, forcing herself not to get emotional. But it was hard. "My parents were on that flight, coming home for Christmas from a business trip. My grandmother, brother, sister, and I were putting up the Christmas tree, listening to the news and talking about what we'd do when they got home, when we heard about it."

  She choked as she saw that day again clearly in her mind. "My grandmother had been about to put the glass angel on top of the tree when they announced it. It was a special edition Lenox ornament that she had guarded all my life. She dropped it to the floor, where it shattered like our hearts. My sister started screaming and I just stood there in complete shock as I stared at the broken glass on the floor, unable to move or breathe. My grandmother was so upset by the news that she ended up having a stroke later that night."

  Ace could see the agony plainly on Rhea's face and it made his own chest tight.

  The look she gave him tore through him. "Do you know what the human soul sounds like when it screams in utter agony? It echoes through your body until you're sure it will shatter your eardrums. Only no one else can hear it. Only you do. One minute, I was just a kid, dreaming about picking out a prom dress with my mother, having my dad teach me to drive that summer, and in the next everything about my life was irrevocably changed.

  "I no longer had parents to be there when I graduated, to nag me to get married before I turned thirty. No Mom for the mother-daughter tea at my sorority or Dad to help me lug boxes into my dorm room. And all because of a senseless act of violence. It is harsh and it hurts and no child should ever feel like I did in that moment. No one should ever lose a loved one like that. No one."

  He didn't know how she held herself so composed. Nothing but absolute anguish was in her eyes.

  "Two hundred and fifty-nine families were shattered that day, and I want to make sure that no one will ever feel the pain that went through me when I realized my mom and dad weren't coming home ever again. So that, Mr. Krux, is why when you say the word terrorist, I get pissed."

  "And you have every right to. I'm sorry, Rhea. I really am."

  She nodded. "I know. Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to go to the bathroom for a minute."

  Ace stood back and watched as she headed toward the door. She walked slowly and methodically, but he had a good idea she was going in there so that she could fall apart.

  Damn. He shouldn't have pushed. But how could he have guessed that? His stupid story at the Smith was paltry compared to hers. And people like her were why his job meant so much to him. It was what kept him going on no sleep, and why he never wanted to get serious with a woman.

  His job was stressful enough, the last thing he needed was a woman who wanted time from him that he couldn't give her.

  Sighing, he went back to the table to wait for Rhea to return.

  When she came back a few minutes later, he could tell she'd been crying. Her features were pinched, her eyes only a little red, but it was enough to let him know what she'd done in the bathroom.

  "You are without a doubt the strongest woman I have ever met," he said, toasting her with his beer. "I really admire you, Rhea."

  Rhea frowned at him as she reached for her wine and clinked it lightly against his beer bottle. "Now I'm really suspicious of you, Ace. What do you have up that sleeve of yours?"

  "Nothing but bare flesh, which you will see all for yourself tomorrow morning." He winked at her, which caused her to get that familiar angry spark in her brown eyes.

  Now that was much better than her sadness. If he kept her angry, she wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

  "You know, I've always read about incorrigible men, but you really are, aren't you?"

  He laughed at that. "Beat me with all your whips and quips, baby."

  She gave him a half-teasing, half-sinister smile. "I plan to."

  "That's all right. It'll be worth it so long as you kiss all my boo-boos afterward."

  "Oh, you are a quick one, Mr. Krux."

  "But the real question is, am I charming you out of your pants?" He wagged his eyebrows at her.

  "You're working on it, aren't you?"

  "I'm trying to."

  She gave him a heated once-over. "You might stand more of a chance if I didn't know how many other women you've already charmed out of their pants and then danced right out of their lives."

  He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Those are all lies. I was framed."

  "Yeah, right."

  And yet she was beguiled by him and that infectious debonair attitude of his. He really was starting to charm her out of her pants, and that scared her more than the thought of dominatrix training.

  She really did want him. How could she not? He had been strangely understanding about her parents, and now she realized he was trying to distract her to get her mind off it.

  Ace really did have a heart and a soul underneath that trying facade.

  "So let's do some business," she said as she returned to her grilled chicken. "Tell me all about Bender."

  "He's a total freak. Just your kind of guy."

  She laughed. "Sounds more like your type. Maybe I should have gotten you that bustier after all."

  "Stop with the bustier jokes." He shuddered. "Every time you talk about it, I get this image in my head that has scarred me for life."

  "What image?"

  "My aunt was one of the women who did the makeup for Tootsie. To get ready for it, she practiced on my dad. I came home from school to find him decked out in the complete getup: sequins, wig, earrings, makeup, you name it. Forget horror, that was the scariest thing I've ever seen. My dad made one ugly woman."

  Rhea laughed again. "Are you serious?"

  "Oh, yeah. You couldn't pay me enough to ever get me near female clothes...unless I'm taking them off a female body."

  "Ace!" she growled. "Focus on something other than your hormones."

  "I would try to focus on your hormones, but you get pissed every time I do."

  "We are here to work."

  "Yeah, but for once my work entails me getting you naked."

  "I am not getting naked for you."

  "Nearly naked then."

  "Ace..."

  "Okay, okay, I'll stop and brief you for real."

  And for once he held to his word. They finished up dinner while he went over every nuance of the case and every sick fetish he had uncovered about Bender.

  The more Rhea learned, the more she became aware of just how important it was to get this man out of commission.

  After Ace had paid their check, they walked out to the parking lot and got back into her car, where he was just a little too close to her. It was hard to ignore a man whose presence dominated the small area. The warm scent of his skin filled her head and it was all she could do to focus on traffic and not those teasing lips that she suddenly wanted to taste.

  "So how do I find my way to your bed anyway?" Ace asked as she backed out of the space.

  Rhea gave him a hooded stare. "You don't have enough charm, wit, or money to ever get into my bed."

  His face was a mask of wickedness. "Wait a sec. I'm supposed to be at your place tomorrow so you can tie me to your bed, remember? I can't do that if I don't know where you live."

  Oh, yeah. "Well, you are a superspy. You could sic Carlos on me and find out."

  He laughed. "Yeah, but Tee has the payroll. She'd be faster.
"

  "True, but lucky for you, I'll make it even easier than that. I live in Franklin, down on Church Street."

  "The historic area?"

  She nodded. "It's a small 1930s cottage, painted creamy yellow with a burgundy door and black iron fence. You can't miss it."

  "Creamy yellow? That's different from regular yellow how?"

  "It's lighter, paler."

  She could see from the corner of her eye that he had that man face that said, "Women and their weird colors."

  They were quiet as she drove him back to the lot where he had his car parked. She pulled up beside his Viper. "See you tomorrow."

  The intensity of those eyes on her body made her hot. Feverish. "Yes, you will. All of me." He glanced to the bag she'd tossed in the backseat. "Don't forget to lay out our toys."

  "I shudder at the thought." But the real problem was that after tonight she didn't truly shudder in revulsion. She shivered in anticipation.

  A foreign part of her was actually looking forward to it.

  "You shudder, huh?" Ace leaned over, and before she realized what he was doing, he kissed her fiercely.

  Her entire body sizzled at the taste of those firm lips against hers. She opened her mouth to taste him fully and let the scent of warm, spicy cologne and Ace fill her head.

  This man really knew how to give a kiss. Forget his gun, his mouth should have been registered as a lethal weapon. His tongue swept against hers in a promising, hungry fashion that left her completely breathless before he pulled back to give her a hot, lustful look. Her entire body was on fire and it was all she could do not to pull him back to her and taste him again.

  "That was daring of you," she said, her voice remarkably calm given the havoc of her body. "Especially since you know I'm packing heat."

  He laughed. "True, but I thought I should at least kiss you before you see me naked." He opened the car door. "Night, Rhea."

  "Night, Ace."

  He got out and slammed the door shut, then got into his Viper.

  Rhea watched as he buckled himself in. He paused to give her a devilish grin before he squealed out of the parking space and headed for the entrance.

  Her body still on fire from the passion of that kiss, she followed him out of the lot at a much more subdued pace even though a part of her was racing even more than he was.

  "It's just a kiss."

  But it had been a great one.

  And tomorrow she really would see him naked...

  Ace pulled his black Viper into Rhea's driveway. He still couldn't believe he was going to do this. He should actually thank Bender for being such a sick bastard since Bender was the one finally giving him a way to get close to Rhea.

  God help him, but he'd been in love with her since the first time he'd seen her. And she had shined him on without a second glance.

  Unused to having to beg or fight for a woman's attention, Ace had walked away, wishing he knew of something to make her attracted to him. She'd always been so reserved toward him, if not downright nasty. No matter what he tried, it always seemed to be the wrong thing with her.

  Until last night.

  His lips still sizzled from her kiss. His body burned from the thought of having her tie him up...

  You're a sick man yourself, Ace.

  No, he was a desperate one. There had always been something about Rhea that set his entire body on fire. It was why he'd bribed Hunter to change cubes with him in the office. Hunter had pretended that being under the air vent was messing with his allergies. So Ace had "volunteered" to take his desk.

  It had been the best and worst $3,000 he'd ever spent. The best because it forced Rhea to acknowledge him when he was in the office. The worst because being so close to her was complete torture.

  Ace pulled off his sunglasses and set them in the passenger seat.

  It was the moment of truth.

  Getting out, he slammed the door shut and sauntered up the driveway when what he really wanted to do was sprint. But the last thing he wanted was for Rhea to know just how badly he wanted her.

  No, coolness would win this. Or if not, it would at least save his dignity.

  Rhea saw Ace leave his car and saunter with that masculine, predatory lope toward her front door. He looked totally edible as he came closer to her lair.

  Yes, he was sexy. Yes, he was hot, but she wasn't about to play into that overinflated ego of his. She had to be cool and dispassionate about wanting to take a bite out of that man. She should never have spent time with him last night. Somehow, he'd actually become human to her and not a total scumbag. A tiny part of her was even starting not only to like him, but respect him as well.

  He knocked on her door.

  Rhea clenched and unclenched her fists, then shook them in an effort to calm down. She had to get a grip on herself. Quick.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to find Ace standing there with one hip cocked and a seductive smile on his face.

  "Morning, sunshine," he said.

  "Morning." Rhea stepped back to let him enter.

  He gave her that wicked, charming smile. "Now this is where in Hollywood they would cue 'Bad to the Bone' to play as I entered your house."

  Rhea rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! Ace, you're so bad."

  "To the bone, baby," he sang.

  "Stop that!"

  He didn't, instead, he broke into a perfect rendition of George Thorogood. The man really did have a great voice.

  Rhea closed her door. "All right, I get it."

  He didn't stop; worse, he literally pinned her to the door and held her trapped between the wood and his long, lush body. He lowered his tone so that he could sing in her ear without causing her pain. His voice was low and sultry and it reverberated though her.

  The pain came not from his body pressing against hers or her voice ringing in her ears, it came from the deep-seated ache at the core of her body that throbbed with a piercing need for him.

  "I want to be yours, pretty baby, yours and yours alone."

  That sounded too good to be true and she knew that things that seemed to be too good, always were.

  "Should I get my saxophone?" she asked, trying to get her thoughts on something other than him being naked in her arms.

  That succeeded in breaking his song. "You got one?"

  "Yeah, I do."

  "Cool. Can you play?"

  He still hadn't moved back and she couldn't move away without brushing even more of her body up against his.

  If she did that, she'd be lost, as badly as she wanted him. There was no way she could feel all that hard, lean muscle and not kiss him again.

  Or do something she might later regret.

  She cleared her throat before she answered his question. "Not well, but I can hammer out a few notes now and again that don't make the neighborhood dogs bark."

  He laughed as he lifted up one hand to play with a stray black curl of her hair. She had to force herself not to lean her head forward the few inches it would take to bury her nose in the hollow of his throat and just inhale his spiced, manly scent.

  Or better yet, lick that tawny skin that covered the hot tendon in his neck....

  "In that case, I need to introduce you to my little brother, Aramis. He used to torture his guitar to the point I sold it for a dollar to our gardener."

  "You did not!"

  "Yeah, I did. Still have my father's handprint on my butt to prove it. Want to see?"

  Rhea snorted at him even though the offer was extremely tempting. "Why does everything have to get back to me seeing you naked?"

  He smiled at her. "Ulterior motives."

  The worst part was that Rhea really did want to see what he kept hidden under those clothes. She'd spent many hours last night after their kiss wondering how much of his ego was boasting and how much was true.

  He dipped his head down to nuzzle her cheek.

  For a full second, she couldn't move as she savored the feel of him there. But somewhere in the back of her
mind, warning bells went off.

  "Would you like some coffee or juice?" she asked, pushing him away before she headed toward her kitchen. Yowza, but he had a hard body. Just the brief contact of her hand on his chest was enough to let her know he was built of solid muscle.

  Disappointment flashed across his face, only to be quickly replaced by a grim determination. "Juice would be great." He followed after her and took a seat at her breakfast counter while she went to her fridge.

  She could feel his gaze on her body. Turning her head, she saw confirmation. He was staring at her butt as if he were caressing her in his mind. Her entire body burned.

  Rhea almost dropped the juice. Tightening her grip, she pretended to ignore him and went to get a glass. "So your brother is named Aramis, huh? Your dad must have been in The Three Musketeers."

  "Yes, and Aramis is grateful every day of his life that Dad didn't double for Christopher Lee."

  "Why?"

  "He played Rochefort."

  She laughed as she poured the juice. "Yeah, I can see where that might be bad. But had your father doubled for Michael York, Aramis would be D'Artagnan. That could have been cool." She handed him his juice.

  "Maybe," Ace said before he took a sip. "But no one would ever be able to spell it."

  The doorbell rang.

  Grateful for the interruption, Rhea put the juice back in the fridge. "That must be our instructor."

  She headed back to the door, unsure of what to expect. The woman's name was Beullah Mueller, and for some reason she pictured an extremely rigid German woman who looked like the gym teacher from the movie Porky's, complete with hair rolled into sausages around her head.

  The reality was worse.

  "Hi," the woman said, not in a German-accented voice, but in a normal American one.

  "Beullah?" Rhea asked, unsure if this was the right woman.

  Surely not.

  Around the age of forty-five, the woman in front of her was of average height, slender, and was dressed in pink designer sweats. She had a large, navy blue gym bag slung over her shoulder. Something about her reminded Rhea of Meredith Baxter-Birney from Family Ties.

  She looked wholesome and sweet.

  Beullah smiled warmly. "I know. I look like someone's middle-aged mother and not a dominatrix instructor. But in my day...I have to tell you, I have whipped many a man's ass and enjoyed it thoroughly."

  There was something extremely incongruous about that coming out of the mouth of a woman who looked as if she ought to be in a peanut butter commercial.