Friday, July 01, 2005



A Stranger's Touch
One passionate night. One perfect stranger… Was it a set up or an accident?
Jessica Montgomery has buried herself in her work at the Austin, Texas District Attorney’s office to forget a bad divorce. Her husband not only left her for another woman, he called her sexually suppressed. Confidence smashed, Jessica avoids relationships, period, no question about it.
Her sister’s child is having his first birthday party, and the timing has Jessica in a crunch. It’s just before a big murder trial, yet she finds herself on the road to Brownsville, Texas to see the baby. The trip becomes a disaster when she has car trouble and is stranded in a small town. It’s raining and there are no rooms left at the only hotel for miles.
Enter the sexy stranger. First, he saves her from a rainstorm, and a night in her car. Next, he saves her from her own insecurities, making love to her and helping her find a passionate side she never knew existed.
But as quickly as he comes into her life, he is gone.
Now, back home, ready to start her trial, she is faced with complications. The FBI has a surprise witness, an undercover agent. Reluctantly, she agrees to meet this man they call Dominic at a secluded safe house. When she arrives, she finds him to be none other than her sexy stranger.
Jessica immediately questions his intentions. Why was he at that Brownsville hotel the same night she was? Before she can even digest what is happening, bullets begin to fly. Now she is on the run with a man she isn’t sure is a friend or enemy. A man who ignites a fire in her that makes her hope he is indeed one of the good guys. Soon, she finds herself living out a new life, undercover, pretending to be Dominic’s wife and wishing for a real life fairy tale ending. But that means trusting Dominic with her life and her heart…and outrunning criminals determined to see them both dead.
In the end, nothing is as it seems. Illusion has ruled both Jessica's life and her destiny.



Chapter One


He made her think of sex.
Hot, wet, blow your mind kind of sex. The kind she hadn’t had in far too long. Correction. Ever. She had never, ever had the kind of sex this man made her want.
Suddenly, the dingy little roadside bar she had stopped at because her cell phone had no signal seemed a darn good decision. It offered a damn delicious distraction from her long hours on the highway.
Standing at the bar, dressed in all black, dark hair touching his broad shoulders, he looked like a wild, exotic form of Zorro. He was the kind of man that made women pant. Even her, conservative little Jessica Montgomery, was ready to jump his bones.
She leaned against the bar, forgetting the irritation over the bartender ignoring her. Her eyes dropped to his truly stellar ass just as he turned and looked at her. There wasn’t time to avert her gaze, nor did she really see the point. They were in the middle of nowhere Texas, two strangers, likely to never see each other again.
She was checking out his ass and didn’t plan to hide it.
What she didn’t anticipate was the intensity of his gaze. Dark eyes assessed her, taking her in from head to toe. He inspected her with such completeness, she felt exposed on some carnal level. Yet, oddly, she was at ease with the feeling.
She couldn’t help but notice the contrast in their appearances. He was dark, where she was light. His hair was black, as were his eyes, and his skin was a perfect light chocolate brown. She was fair, with hair the blondest of blond, porcelain skin, and eyes the palest of blues. Something about their differences made her feel a little thrill inside. The thought of her fair skin contrasting against his dark, her blond hair draped against his black, was enticing.
She watched him watching her. Those eyes of his, those deep, dark eyes, only served to enhance his quintessential sex appeal.
For the briefest of moments, she had the oddest sensation of being touched. Goosebumps spread across Jessica’s skin, her nipples tingled and then hardened, and a light ache spread between her legs. Shocked at the utterly sexual response he evoked in her, Jessica found it difficult to catch her breath.
No man had ever aroused her so easily.
Perhaps, it was her lifestyle that made her respond so readily. After her divorce, she joined the District Attorney’s office and had since been burning the candle at both ends, with little to no time for social affairs. Not that she was eager to jump into a relationship after her ex-husband’s nasty comments about her overall appeal. As hard as she tried to dismiss his harsh words, they had stuck with her. Especially the part about her being undersexed and outright boring in bed.
Funny, the wetness clinging to her panties didn’t make her feel undersexed. Quite the opposite. This stranger had her feeling quite ready to get naked and take him on in a little game of one on one.
She laughed and broke eye contact with him.
What in the hell was she thinking? She hadn’t had sex in eighteen months, and she was wet and wanting a man she didn’t even know. Was she insane?
Apparently, because her eyes moved back to her Zorro as if she was desperate for another glance. But it was too late. He had turned away and was paying the bartender, preparing to leave. Seconds later, his boots scraped the floor as he started towards the door.
She watched him saunter across the floor, his walk graceful but masculine at the same time. His hair fell down his back, not too long, not too short. It made her long to run her hands through it, to touch it and feel it draped across her body.
As he reached the door, she fought the desire to run after him. It was crazy but she wanted this man in a powerful way. Willing herself to stay in her chair, Jessica took a deep breath. And that’s when he turned, fixing her in a hot stare. In his eyes she saw the potency of a desire she had never experinced.
“Lady, I told you I ain’t got no phone.”
Jessica jumped as the harsh tone of the bartender drew her out of her private little fantasy and back to the reality of her situation. The beeping of her pager sounded in her purse as reinforcement. She didn’t have to look at the number. Her boss, Frank Simpson, had paged her three times in fifteen minutes.
This had to be about the Alvarez case. As lead counsel, responsible for prosecution of one the most sought after drug lords of the decade, Jessica was feeling the pressure to ensure a conviction.
Reaching inside her purse, she withdrew a twenty and slapped it on the bar. “I need a cup of coffee and a phone.” Her father and her ex husband had taught her well about money and power. They both wanted it. Unfortunately, so did a lot of other people.
The bartender smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “You got it lady.” Moments later he held out a cordless phone to her. Jessica reached for the phone but he pulled it out of her range. “No long distance,” he snapped, giving her a hard stare that demanded a response.
“I’ll use my credit card,” Jessica bit out between clenched teeth.
He handed her the phone. “Don’t tie up my line too long.” And then he walked away.
Jessica wanted to throw something at him for being so belligerent, but she restrained herself. Settling onto a barstool with some effort, she was thankful she wore jeans. At five foot four, high seats and a skirt made being ladylike impossible.
The bartender pocketed the twenty and grunted before turning away. She doubted she’d get her coffee. Moments later, she waited impatiently as the phone rang.
“Frank,” Jessica said, the minute she heard her boss’s voice. “It’s me.”
“What the hell took you so long?”
“Good grief Frank, you’re the DA, not God. Give me a break here. You know I’m traveling. My cell has no signal.” In so many ways Frank was like her father. He wanted what he wanted at any price. Only Frank was direct and honest. Her father was sneaky and manipulative.
“I told you this was a bad time for a trip,” Frank grumbled.
Jessica frowned into the phone. “I only took half a day off. And this is exactly why I am going into private practice.”
He snorted into the phone. Frank had never been one on manners. At least outside the courtroom. “So you say but you’re still here. Actually you’re not here,” he corrected. “You’re there in Dumbfuck Texas right before the biggest trial of your career.”
“You mean your career,” she spouted back. “I told you months ago this was my nephew’s birthday weekend.” For way too long, she’d made her mother and her sister feel unimportant. Not anymore. Jessica bit back more angry words and forced herself back to professional mode. And Frank I turned in my notice. Next month is my last month. The end. Done.”
“What notice?”
“You tore it up but I made copies Frank.” She took a deep breath. This was getting her nowhere. He didn’t understand why she wanted to leave. She needed to make a difference. The DA’s office had become like a spinning top she never could slow down. Every case felt the same. They put people away only to see them get right back out. She needed to feel she made a difference and she didn’t anymore. “I’m ready for opening statements. I have it under control.”
“Do you?” he challenged. “We lost another juror.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “What?” Not another one. This case had started out feeling like one last chance in her current role to make a difference. To play a key role in taking down a cartel. It was turning into a nightmare. “Who? Why?”
“Michael Walker. A car accident, but I don’t think it was so accidental.”
A knot formed in her stomach as she absorbed the information. “Alvarez is in solitary,” Jessica said, “and still we can’t shut him down.”
“This is why I didn’t want you to leave now. There are just too many obstacles for you to be gone. This is important.”
Jessica sucked in a breath. “I know, Frank.” She put up with Frank because he was honest. He might be a jerk, but he had the right goals in mind. “You know I want this conviction.”
She really did want this conviction. This one felt a bit personal. Drug trafficking was a personal issue to Jessica. Growing up near the border, she’d seen it destroy too many people. Her father had given her the chance to leave Brownsville and go to college in Austin. She’d had opportunities many of her friends hadn’t. Ones, her half-sister Beth, had missed because they didn’t share the same father. The thought brought a prick of guilt she shoved away. Really Beth had the better end of the deal. Beth had a loving father.
By the time Jessica hung up the phone, she was ready for an alcoholic beverage and she didn’t even drink. She pushed off the stool. She’d settle for a white mocha, but Starbucks had missed this part of Texas. They had hit every block in New York, and she couldn’t get a cup of decent coffee for 300 miles of Texas.
***
The last two putters of the car engine dispelled any hope that her trip would be a good one. It was bad enough that she had let the sexiest man she’d ever seen slip through her finger. Now, only a mile up the road, she was stranded.
Of course, she had made it into some dingy hotel parking lot. For that she should be thankful. Still, from the looks of the building, it was no great find.
Shoving open her door, she stepped out into the hot night air and stared at the blinking red sign. The wind whipped around her shoulders, dirt blowing at her feet. A storm was coming, and she had car trouble. Looked like she would be sleeping at a place with no name other than Motel.
“Great,” she muttered as she slammed her door shut and began a stomp towards the office door. She didn’t know a damn thing about cars. What kind of help was she going to get in a place like this?
Stepping into the tiny lobby that held only a dirty chair and a counter enclosed in glass, Jessica didn’t feel any more optimistic about staying here. She wouldn’t be sleeping much this night.
There wasn’t a person in sight as she stepped toward the counter. “Hello?”
No response.
Jessica looked around her, hugging her body with her arms. Deserted and a bit eerie was the only way to describe the feel of the room. She just wanted a warm bed and some sleep, dreadful as they might be. Tomorrow, with a broken down car, she already knew she would be in hell.
For tonight, she just wanted someone normal to come to that glass window and give her a room. Then, she would snuggle under the blankets and dream of the sexy Zorro-looking man from the bar.
If only he were here, getting a room with her. To be alone and naked with that man would more than make up for the challenges of the night and tomorrow. She could practically feel his body next to hers. Hard muscles pressing against her body, his hand on her breast, kneading and teasing…
Jessica mentally shook herself. What in the heck was happening to her? She never fantasized about men. Yet, now, in the middle of a crisis, she could feel her panties, for the second time in one night, wet with wanting.
She needed a room and sleep. She knocked on the glass. “Hello?”
Just as Jessica opened her mouth to call out again, an old man with a cigar hanging out of his mouth shuffled, feet in slippers, through a side doorway.
“We’re full,” he said grumpily, his wild eyebrows making him look like some kind of spook.
Jessica felt a wave of panic. “But my car is broken down, and I can’t get anywhere else.”
The cigar stayed in his mouth moving up and down. “I don’t know what to tell you, lady. First come first serve around these parts. Should have been here ten minutes earlier. I had one room left.” He laughed. “Not no more though.”
Sleeping in her car didn’t sound like a good option. “How far to the next hotel?”
“Three miles.”
Three miles…she could walk three miles.
“It’s the land of nothing between here and there. Pure ghost town.”
She frowned at the man and shoved a strand of her long, blond hair from her face. “But you won’t give me a room?”
“Told you, lady,” he said and had the gall to have a hint of irritation in his voice. “Don’t got one to give.”
Mumbling not so nice words under her breath, Jessica turned towards the door. Talking with this rude man was getting her nowhere fast. Pushing open the exit door, she stepped outside and was instantly slammed with a gush of wind and rain. Droplets of liquid gathered in her hair and on her cheeks.
“Can this night get any worse?” she whispered into the darkness, feeling very alone and on edge.
As she moved towards her car, the wind seemed to pick up several notches, throwing wetness and dirt around her body.
All Jessica wanted to do was get to Brownsville in time for her nephew’s party. And her mother wanted to talk about something. Whatever it was neither her sister, Beth, nor her mother, wanted to discuss it on the phone. Their secretiveness had her on edge, and made her feel like an outsider.
By the time she yanked open her door, she was dripping wet. The wind blew so hard she could hardly get into her car. Panic was building as she slid inside. She sat in her seat, darkness surrounding her, and for the first time since the night she found her husband with another woman, tears began to fall.
The turbulence that erupted, took her by surprise. So long suppressed, her emotions seemed to simply invite themselves to explode. Her hands clenched onto the steering wheel, and she rested her forehead on her knuckles. For long moments she could do nothing but let the tears fall, trying to understand what she was feeling.
This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cry. Getting to her family had just felt so important. She didn’t want to lose them again. Whatever her mom had to tell her couldn’t be good. Her chest tightened with the thought, and tears feel harder. God. She’d been so horrible to them. Turning her back on them for her father had been wrong. Living with him, law school, a new life…it had felt so important back then.
How could she ever make up for being such a jerk?
Thunder rumbled around her as rain fell hard against the windows. She sat in the middle of it all and had her own storm. Swiping at her cheeks, she reprimanded herself for being so weak. Lord only knew, her father had taught her how important it was to be tough. What she didn’t know was how much she needed that particular trait to deal with him.
Regardless, she didn’t have time for this kind of weakness. At least she was doing this alone. No one would know how to deal with an emotional Jessica. Once she got the whirlwind out of her system it would be done.
But then, she realized, that alone was exactly why she cried. Alone hurt. She laughed through her tears. Bitter. But it was damn sure better than being stomped on by people you thought cared about you.
***
Feeding quarters into the payphone, Dominic felt the rain pounding against his skin, a full-fledged storm giving him a beating. He happily endured the weather to ensure safe communication. Soon, the Alvarez Cartel would want him dead. Hell, knowing them, they’d want to cause a little pain and suffering first.
Wiping water from his eyes, he waited as the phone rang, thankful when a familiar male voice answered. “Joseph.”
“Hey, compadre. I was starting to think Alvarez’s dogs shot your sorry Mexican ass.”
“Not yet. They still think I’m one of them. If I’m not at the checkpoint by noon Wednesday, you know something went wrong.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Joseph asked.
“I’m the only chance Rafael had to survive. I brought him into the Alvarez operation,” Dominic said. “I’m taking him out alive. I’d just like to know how the hell his cover got blown.”
“I don’t like this. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get your back.”
“I’ll hit Matamoros by morning.” Dominic kept his comment vague by design. His location had to be guarded. Better safe than sorry. “By the time you’d get here, I’d be gone.”
“I take it you found your first target and it’s handled?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah,” Dominic said. “She’s clean. Alvarez hasn’t gotten to her.” He left out the part about her walking into the bar and seeing him. It was a complication that would have to be dealt with - just not now.
Joseph made a disgusted sound. “I told you Jessica Montgomery could be trusted but, no, you had to follow her around and see for yourself.”
“Alvarez got to at least one judge we know of, why not a prosecutor?” Jessica had been at the right place, on her way to Brownsville, at the right time. It had only cost him a slight detour to be certain about her. He’d learned a long time ago not to trust anyone he didn’t check out himself. Once his cover was blown, his life would be on the line. He damn sure wanted to trust anyone involved with this case.
Dominic looked up to find a woman running across the parking lot. “What the…“ He frowned. No. It couldn’t be. What was Jessica Montgomery doing in this rat trap? Of all the places for her to stop. There were much nicer hotels just a few miles away. And he knew she wasn’t getting a room. He’d taken the last one.
“What’s wrong?” Rafael said, urgency in his voice.
Dominic glanced at his watch. Time was up. “I’ll bring Rafael in and see you at the playground.”
He hung up the phone, knowing Joseph alone understood the playground to be the old cabin he owned on the outskirts of Austin. He started towards his room, heavy thoughts in his mind, the downpour around him ignored. In roughly twelve hours, Rafael, a good, honest man, would walk straight into a trap and death would certainly follow. Raf was too young and honorable to die at the hand of Alvarez and his dogs.
Unlocking his room, Dominic glanced towards Jessica. Why hadn’t she driven away? He went inside, locked the door and cut a path for the shower. His gun went on the sink. It was the closest thing he had to a friend right now. The kind that could save his life. But he didn’t linger even though he felt confident he was off the radar screen.
Fifteen minutes later, he had his jeans back on and gun in hand. He parted the curtains a tiny little bit, taking in the exterior of the motel. “Chingado.” He muttered the curse low and hard.
Jessica hadn’t left. Instead, she sat in her car, unmoving. Her car must have broken down. Under a tree, in the middle of a storm, and at night. Not a safe situation. Neither was being alone in a room with him. The attraction between them had been intense.
Dominic took a deep breath. He couldn’t leave her there. Yet, the very fact that she’d seen him in the first place meant he’d have explaining to do later. But what option did he have? With a curse, he grabbed his shoulder holster and pulled a shirt over his head. What the hell was she doing out there? People accused him of having a death wish. A certain white woman seemed to have one herself.
***
Jessica was just starting to pull herself together when a loud knocking made her scream. There was a man at her window. Her hand went to her chest, shocked at the presence. But more so because it was a familiar face. “Oh my God.”
It wasn’t just any man. It was a dripping wet version of Zorro from the bar.
What should she do? Let him in? Lock the doors?
She decided to crack the window. A little. “What are you doing in the rain?”
“You can’t stay in your car all night. It’s not safe.”
“Getting out isn’t either.”
“You’re under a tree in lightning.”
“You’re in the rain.”
“Trying to get you out of it.”
“I am out of it.”
“I’m not,” he said testily. His long hair was plastered to his face. “Come inside with me. I promise it’ll be safer than here.”
Water was splattering in her face. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He gave her a steady stare despite the water splashing around him. “You don’t.” He paused. “Room 112.”
Then he turned and walked away.
She called after him. “How’d you know I was out here?”
But he didn’t turn, didn’t answer.
Jessica sat there, fretting. Had she not wished for an opportunity to be alone with the very man who just welcomed her to his room? A man who offered to spare her a scary night alone in a car, under a tree, in an electrical storm?
Then thunder boomed overhead. She jumped and reached for the door.
Somehow, a night alone with her sexy stranger sounded better than a night alone in her car. Not thinking, just acting, she stomped through the rain, her purse the only item she carried with her.
Once she was at room 112, she stood before the door, dripping wet, hair stuck to her face and stared at the number sign. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was a serial killer, or a rapist, or…
The door opened.
Her mouth dropped. There stood her stranger with no shirt on, looking like a poster for the world’s sexiest man. His hair hung in damp strands around his face, barely brushing the tops of his muscular shoulders. He held a towel in his hand and interest in his eyes.
“Come in,” he said, stepping backwards and holding the door open for her. For the first time she realized he had a distinct Spanish accent. Not too strong, but evident enough to slip into her mind and entice a response.
She was so soaked in rainwater that she literally dripped. Without moving she warned him of her condition despite the fact that it was evident. “I’m wet.”
He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that said he read into her words. “Thanks for the warning.” He held up his towel, offering it to her. “I think we’ll manage.”

Posted by Lisa Renee Jones :: 11:01 AM :: 0 comments

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