Page 54 of Hot Pursuit
She squeezed his forearm. “Thank god you’re here. If anything happens, if anything—”
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he soothed, offering a charming smile. “I’ve got everything under control.”
He didn’t.
Far from it.
Jo was as much of a wild card as ever, but this woman didn’t need to know that.
“Thank you.” Her shoulders hunched as her tension broke. “Thank you.”
Nate released her with a firm nod, the action more assured than he felt, and spun, taking in the room. The house looked as if it were torn out of a textbook on the Gilded Age—the definition of opulence. Gilt moldings. Detailed woodwork. Crystal chandeliers. Heavy silk drapes. Clawfoot settees and carved mahogany tables. The formal living room led to a formal dining room to a dark, cozy library. Each room held scattered objects from the silent auction, and he skimmed as he walked by, but nothing stood out. Nothing screamed Robert Carter. Not until he crested the steps to the ballroom on the second floor and saw a painting hanging over the fireplace that hadn’t been in any of his files and the woman standing before it.
Ballerinas, clearly by Degas.
And Jolene Carter.
There was no question as to which was more beautiful in Nate’s eyes. Jo’s hair was piled high on her head, revealing the elegant arc of her neck and the supple curve of her spine, on display in a low-back dress that hugged her every angle. As though sensing his arrival, she turned. Their eyes met, and the room seemed to fade. The job. The operation. The reason they were here. All of it fell away as he held her gaze, for one second, then two. Neither of them turned away. There was no surprise in her expression, but the longer he looked, the more he thought he saw a bit of joy, a brilliant little spark of something bright and burning beneath her skin. And though he couldn’t remember a single word he’d planned to say, Nate found himself striding across the room, steps quick and confident, as though pulled by something outside of his control.
- 19 -
Jo
Every thought in her head seemed to flee as Nate approached, a hunter on the prowl, sauntering toward his prey, slow, determined, and absolutely controlled. Jo was frozen in place, unable to break the mysterious hold he had on her, unable to look away. Her pulse sped, making her heart thunder in her chest, but she managed to keep a coy little smile across her lips. He’d never looked more handsome than he did in that black tuxedo with an ash bow tie bringing out the brightness of his eyes. But he’d never looked so menacing either, so very capable of being her undoing.
A waiter walked by, and Nate grabbed two glasses of champagne from a tray, then closed the small distance between them, offering her one.
“Drink?”
Was his voice deeper than usual? The sensual sound made her stomach muscles clench as she lifted her hand. Her fingers grazed against his as she took the flute, a shock to her system, but she managed to find her voice long enough to tease, “I didn’t realize the agency allowed drinking on the job. Have I managed to rub off on you, Nate?”
“There’s no specific rule one way or the other.” The edge of his lip twitched with a smile as he raised the glass to his mouth and tip his head, taking a long sip.
Jo did the same. The bubbles sprinkled down her throat, spreading warmth and lightness to the center of her chest and the tips of her fingers. Her tension eased away. She breathed deeply, trying to focus on why she was there and what she was supposed to be doing, but as her eyes met Nate’s over the rims of their glasses and a giggle spilled from her lips, all thoughts of work fled.
“I needed that,” he joked.
“Me too.”
They both looked away, perhaps because they both wanted to run from the big question hovering between their words—why?
Why was the air so charged?
Why were the stakes rising higher and higher?
Why did tonight feel different?
More intense.
More important.
More real.
Jo’s gaze dropped to the floor.
Nate’s must have risen to the wall, because a moment later, he asked, “Degas?”
A flare of heat spiked down her spine. But she kept her face blank. “I think so.”
