was, giving exactly what she got. He kissed her deeper, more thoroughly. His tongue moved back and forth, in and out of her mouth, colliding with hers in a slick tango until a soft moan purred in her throat. The sweet sound revved his pulse even more.
A knock at the door obliterated the moment.
Tracey jumped back and slapped a hand across her lips as if they’d been burned. Mac’s sure had.
He ran a hand down his face and took a deep breath, shocked to have done something he’d sworn not to do. He turned. “Yeah,” he muttered, opening the door.
The hotel manager stood at attention with several security officers surrounding him. “I ran up as soon as I got the message, Mr. Reynolds. I can assure you that nothing like this has ever happened before at my hotel.”
That didn’t do anybody much good. Mac looked back at Tracey. With her arms crossed in front of her chest and her feet spread shoulder-width apart, she’d completely recovered from their kiss and looked ready to take on the world. Except for her eyes.
Her haunted eyes gave away her fear. Of him or her stalker?
Late afternoon, while heavy gray clouds threatened the sun and made the already ominous day darker, a couple of dozen drivers sat in different sections on the track ready for their admirers to be set loose. Fan Appreciation Day was mostly fun for Tracey. Fun and grueling. After three or four hours of smiling, making small talk and signing autographs, she usually went home and passed out.
Not surprisingly, with so much going on, she wasn’t in the moment. Learning the circumstances of Joe’s death and finding her room destroyed certainly hadn’t helped. But then neither had Mac. Only one other guy had kissed her the way Mac did, and he’d dumped her when she’d needed him most. Remembering Mac’s mouth on hers had her lips tingling. Truth be told, if she’d realized how bad a kisser Eddie had been, she might’ve dumped him first. Comparing Mac to Eddie was like comparing a vintage bottle of scotch to flat soda.
Tracey sat up straight and exhaled hard. She and Mac simply wouldn’t talk about it. Not ever. She wouldn’t think about being in his strong arms, tasting those full lips, or inhaling the leather scent that surrounded him.
Oh yeah. This was a great start.
Right now, she was getting slightly dizzy watching him pace the long table in front of her. He looked dangerous as he scoped out the area with hawk eyes. “Damn it, Tracey. I don’t like this,” he grumbled.
She didn’t like that she’d kissed him hours ago, but she was surviving. “You’d better learn to live with it, Mac. It’s part of the process. You know that,” she replied. “Ed knows it too. Publicity is in the contract.”
“Publicity might be in the contract, but there are exceptions to every rule.” Mac leaned over the table and leveled her with hard eyes. His shoulders spread a mile wide in front of her. “You shouldn’t be out in public. It’s dangerous.”
Tracey looked away from that damn dimple on his chin and didn’t let his intense stare rattle her. “So far this wing nut seems too wimpy to do anything in person. He strikes when it’s quiet. He’s chickenshit. I’ll bet you twenty bucks he won’t show today. It’ll be way too crowded.”
“So all of a sudden you’re a criminal analyst. You have no idea what this guy will do,” Mac shot back.
Tuning out the hard edge in his voice, Tracey avoided the exacting look in Mac’s eyes. She studied the two massive hunks of men stationed on either side of her table. “You and Ed made sure I had enough security to rival the President. I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go…I don’t know…measure the track. That’ll keep you busy.”
“The track is two and a half miles long, Tracey. It was measured around the time it was built.” He paced in front of her again, a wild animal trapped in a cage.
“Right.” He was still calling her Tracey. Had been since the visit with the detective
A knock at the door obliterated the moment.
Tracey jumped back and slapped a hand across her lips as if they’d been burned. Mac’s sure had.
He ran a hand down his face and took a deep breath, shocked to have done something he’d sworn not to do. He turned. “Yeah,” he muttered, opening the door.
The hotel manager stood at attention with several security officers surrounding him. “I ran up as soon as I got the message, Mr. Reynolds. I can assure you that nothing like this has ever happened before at my hotel.”
That didn’t do anybody much good. Mac looked back at Tracey. With her arms crossed in front of her chest and her feet spread shoulder-width apart, she’d completely recovered from their kiss and looked ready to take on the world. Except for her eyes.
Her haunted eyes gave away her fear. Of him or her stalker?
Late afternoon, while heavy gray clouds threatened the sun and made the already ominous day darker, a couple of dozen drivers sat in different sections on the track ready for their admirers to be set loose. Fan Appreciation Day was mostly fun for Tracey. Fun and grueling. After three or four hours of smiling, making small talk and signing autographs, she usually went home and passed out.
Not surprisingly, with so much going on, she wasn’t in the moment. Learning the circumstances of Joe’s death and finding her room destroyed certainly hadn’t helped. But then neither had Mac. Only one other guy had kissed her the way Mac did, and he’d dumped her when she’d needed him most. Remembering Mac’s mouth on hers had her lips tingling. Truth be told, if she’d realized how bad a kisser Eddie had been, she might’ve dumped him first. Comparing Mac to Eddie was like comparing a vintage bottle of scotch to flat soda.
Tracey sat up straight and exhaled hard. She and Mac simply wouldn’t talk about it. Not ever. She wouldn’t think about being in his strong arms, tasting those full lips, or inhaling the leather scent that surrounded him.
Oh yeah. This was a great start.
Right now, she was getting slightly dizzy watching him pace the long table in front of her. He looked dangerous as he scoped out the area with hawk eyes. “Damn it, Tracey. I don’t like this,” he grumbled.
She didn’t like that she’d kissed him hours ago, but she was surviving. “You’d better learn to live with it, Mac. It’s part of the process. You know that,” she replied. “Ed knows it too. Publicity is in the contract.”
“Publicity might be in the contract, but there are exceptions to every rule.” Mac leaned over the table and leveled her with hard eyes. His shoulders spread a mile wide in front of her. “You shouldn’t be out in public. It’s dangerous.”
Tracey looked away from that damn dimple on his chin and didn’t let his intense stare rattle her. “So far this wing nut seems too wimpy to do anything in person. He strikes when it’s quiet. He’s chickenshit. I’ll bet you twenty bucks he won’t show today. It’ll be way too crowded.”
“So all of a sudden you’re a criminal analyst. You have no idea what this guy will do,” Mac shot back.
Tuning out the hard edge in his voice, Tracey avoided the exacting look in Mac’s eyes. She studied the two massive hunks of men stationed on either side of her table. “You and Ed made sure I had enough security to rival the President. I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go…I don’t know…measure the track. That’ll keep you busy.”
“The track is two and a half miles long, Tracey. It was measured around the time it was built.” He paced in front of her again, a wild animal trapped in a cage.
“Right.” He was still calling her Tracey. Had been since the visit with the detective
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