Skin Tight Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epigraph

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER 1 - PRESENT DAY, VIRGINIA

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  EPILOGUE

  Teaser chapter

  “Ava Gray’s style is edgy, unapologetic, and take-no-prisoners bold.”

  —Larissa Ione, New York Times bestselling author of Ecstasy Unveiled

  There was violence in his eyes, but his touch was gentle.

  “You threatened me yesterday,” he said silkily. “That wasn’t smart. You tipped your hand, and now I know you’re a danger to me. What are we going to do about it?”

  She seemed belatedly to register the darkness in him. Some people never saw it at all, or didn’t see it until it was too late. Mia took a step back, but she was too slow. He curled his fingers tighter around her forearm and drew her in.

  “Let go of me.” Her voice shook slightly, belying her bravado.

  So she had sense enough to fear him. He wished that didn’t make him feel sick. But overall, it was for the best.

  “I don’t think so,” he whispered. “Remember how you wanted me to kiss you, Mia? You practically begged for it.”

  “That’s a lie.” She turned her face away, probably hoping he wouldn’t realize she was lying now.

  He trailed his fingertips down her cheek, bracing for the horror of seeing her eyes go fuzzy. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m about to give you exactly what you want.”

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Ava Gray

  SKIN GAME

  SKIN TIGHT

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  SKIN TIGHT

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / June 2010

  Copyright © 2010 by Ann Aguirre.

  Excerpt from Skin Heat by Ava Gray copyright © Ann Aguirre.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-18797-5

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For the fans of BatPunisherMan.

  Y’all know who you are.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, I must thank my agent, Laura Bradford. Without her, none of this would be possible. Next, I thank Cindy Hwang, an amazing editor of powerful vision. She should get a prize—and she will at Christmastime—for making sense of my timelines. In fact, I appreciate the whole Penguin team; thanks so much for your hard work on my books. The finished product is lovely and a joy to behold.

  As always, friends helped me along the way: Lauren Dane, Bree Bridges, Donna Herren, Larissa Ione, and my assistant, Ivette. Without their contributions, this book wouldn’t be as good. I owe them a great deal for their time and support. Thanks, guys! I’m lucky to have all of you on my side.

  Not least, but I thank my family. Their patience and understanding when I’m drafting a novel are invaluable. I hope I make up for my distraction during the downtime. I can never repay your generosity and sweetness, but I try with a few words each time I release a new book. I could not ask for more in a partner or in children. Thank you so much.

  Finally, I thank my readers. You bless me whenever you take my stories home. I hope they continue to entertain you.

  PROLOGUE

  ONE YEAR AGO, LAS VEGAS

  From her concealed position on the stairs that led to his apartment, Mia Sauter watched Foster’s gold Nissan pull into the assigned space. He drove as he did everything else: cautiously. She noticed how he surveyed the parking lot before he committed to exiting the vehicle. If need be, he could use the door as a shield. She wondered where he’d learned such self-protective behavior and why he needed it.

  Oh, it made a certain amount of sense, given that he worked in security. Maybe he had a background in law enforcement or the military; he had that bearing. Though he stood no more than average height, his body held a dangerous edge, as if hard, lean muscle lay beneath his urbane exterior.

  There was a precision about him. Some women wouldn’t find him attractive; his features were craggy rather than regular. He had an unruly thatch of light brown hair that looked as if it might wave if he didn’t keep it cut so short. But his eyes were unforgettable—an eerie glacier blue, ringed in silver. When the light hit them just right, they almost seemed to glow. His intensity proved a lure she’d been unable to resist a few days ago.

  How humiliating. Still, she had nowhere else to turn.

  The apartment complex gave her no clue as to his personality, whether he was, in fact, a man she could trust with her life. Tan stucco and adobe buildings were surrounded by palm trees. If it were daylight, she could have seen the glint of blue water from the community pool. At night, however, there was only the black velvet sky overhead and the glimmer of distant city lights.

  Mia knew the moment he sp
otted her. Foster stiffened and then slammed the door, stalking toward her with a lethal grace that got her blood pumping. Another woman might miss how thin the veneer of civilization ran with him, but she saw the conqueror in the angry, sensual lines of his mouth.

  She pushed to her feet, trying not to think of the brutal way he’d rebuffed her. In that moment, she’d felt like the awkward, geeky girl she’d outgrown years ago: one too smart for anyone to look at her twice, who preferred books to boys and had an unfortunate habit of pointing out other people’s faults. Feeling sick, she shoved the awful sensation aside. She wasn’t that person anymore—she’d learned some tact and sensitivity to balance her intellect—and she wouldn’t let him do this to her.

  Her friend was in trouble, and she’d do anything she had to in order to help Kyra. No friendship had ever meant so much to her. Not to mention, she had her own safety to consider, so she couldn’t permit personal issues to cloud the situation.

  “You told me not to come to the casino again.” Mia was pleased to hear the conversational tone, despite agitation from several sources.

  “Right.” He bit the word off. “That would be a bad idea. Have you been here long?”

  She could tell he didn’t want her here. His body language made that obvious, but being in trouble in a strange city limited her options. Mia tried to pretend everything was normal: that her best friend hadn’t disappeared and she didn’t have men watching her every move.

  “No, the cabbie dropped me off five minutes ago. I’m sorry for dropping by like this, but I wasn’t sure you’d take my call. Can I come up?”

  In the dim light, close up, he looked weary and conflicted, as if he didn’t know what to do with her. He’d made it clear how he felt about her, and she hated the necessity of asking his help. But Kyra’s life hung in the balance, and Mia had no pride where her friend was concerned.

  “That depends on what you want.”

  “Protection,” she said baldly. “I think someone’s after me, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

  That news rocked him visibly. His eyes shone silver in the headlights of a passing SUV. He tensed until it went around the bend to park at a different building. Mia tracked the movement as well, his tension sparking a like reaction in her. When the red taillights faded from view, she glanced back at him. He was studying her as if she might bite him.

  Well, it was an idea, one she’d entertained a few days ago, before he made his antipathy crystal clear. Maybe she wasn’t a femme fatale, but she’d never had a man react as if her touch carried a contaminant from which he’d never get clean. Generally men’s responses ran toward indifference.

  Foster seemed to reach a decision. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “Isn’t that what the mafia says to people right before they disappear?” she joked.

  Without answering, he led the way back to his car. He had a hardness you didn’t usually see in white-collar workers. She could see him on the deck of a ship or giving commands on a battlefield, not overseeing the day-to-day business at the Silver Lady. When she’d first spotted him in the casino, a shiver of pure attraction had surprised her. He’d worn his dark suit with elegance, but she’d sensed the raw power of him from the first. She wasn’t the type of woman who took one look at a man and wanted him, especially when she needed to focus on finding her friend.

  Mia got in the Nissan without urging. She figured he’d know what to do. He had more information about Kyra than he’d shared; she would stake her life on it. Now that she’d gotten in the middle of things, she had to trust him.

  He made a call before he joined her. Since he was turned away, voice low, she couldn’t make out what he was saying. That made her a little uneasy; what did she know about him, after all? Eventually, he hopped in and started the car.

  The radio kicked in, playing a song from the eighties. She didn’t know where they were going, and he didn’t say. She studied his profile, admiring the clean, strong line of his jaw. He wasn’t handsome, but he had something better: a sharp but solid appeal that said he could weather anything. She liked his eyes. Mostly, they were like cool mountain water, steady and calm in a crisis. Right now, she was glad of that.

  “I wish you hadn’t gotten involved in this,” he said, after ten minutes of driving.

  The neighborhood had become suburban, and her nerves were prickling. But maybe he’d asked a friend to shelter her for the night. She obviously couldn’t stay at his place. Based on past precedent, she could only surmise that they were watching him as well.

  “Me, too. Where are we going?”

  In answer, he pulled into the driveway of an ordinary house. The windows were dark, and she saw no sign of welcome within. Her misgivings flared to life.

  “I’m sorry.” The regret in his storm-cloud eyes puzzled her. “But there’s nothing else I can do.” He leaned over as if to touch her cheek, but he pulled his fingers away at the last moment, contact aborted. “I wanted that kiss, by the way. More than you know.”

  Her cheeks fired, and his words confused her enough that she spent precious seconds weighing the wrong comment. “Nothing you can do about what?”

  “They won’t hurt you. Just keep calm, do as they ask, and everything will be fine.”

  “They who?” she demanded, her voice gone shrill.

  But he turned away, hands firmly on the wheel. Whatever came next, Foster made it clear he wouldn’t help her.

  Someone jerked the passenger door open, and then a masked man pulled her from the car.

  CHAPTER 1

  PRESENT DAY, VIRGINIA

  “I understand your father was Iranian,” the interviewer said delicately. “And you still have relatives there, including your grandfather and numerous cousins.”

  He was a silver-haired man, clad in a navy blue suit. His pale blue shirt and gray tie said he was conservative, somewhat lacking in imagination. Mia had learned to read people, based on the clothing they chose.

  The hotel conference room was nearly as nondescript as her interviewer. Looking around at the beige paint and the faux-wood theme, she could have been in any hotel in any part of the country. There were no windows to distract her from the inappropriate question.

  She had impeccable references. At first she hadn’t doubted Micor Technologies would select her, even from a large pool of qualified candidates. Her track record for ferreting out the truth made her the ideal choice. And indeed, everything had been going well until the management had run across her ethnic background.

  Mia raised a brow. “How is that relevant?” Oh, he didn’t come right out and say it. But she knew what he was trying to imply. “May I remind you that discrimination is still illegal in the United States?”

  Collins was a smart man; he could read between the lines, and he knew that after asking about her father’s country of origin, she had a case, should she wish to pursue the matter. If he didn’t want to hire her, he shouldn’t have asked.

  His mouth was tight when he offered the contract, standard terms. She had ninety days to unearth evidence of who was misappropriating company funds. They thought it was someone in Accounting but couldn’t be sure because the culprit was clever.

  “I’ll come in under the pretext of updating the company software.” Fortunately, she knew enough about computers to make that fiction convincing.

  “I’m afraid that won’t do,” Collins said, shaking his head.

  She paused, pen hovering above the pristine white contract. “What won’t?”

  “We can’t have word getting out that we’ve hired a consultant. No, Miss Sauter, we need you on the payroll as an official employee. Otherwise, it will raise eyebrows. Our work is so sensitive that we never bring in contractors. Fortunately, we have an IT opening at the moment. Since a monkey could do it, I am sure you will have no trouble balancing that workload against your investigation.”

  Gazing into his eyes, she had the uncanny sensation he wanted her to fail. That offended her on so many levels that she cou
ldn’t begin to tabulate them. And considering her math aptitude, that was saying something.

  “No problem at all,” she said coolly and scrawled her signature on the contract.

  This particular job required an extensive background check and the signing of a nondisclosure agreement. Collins showed his displeasure every step of the way. He was one who thought dark hair and eyes meant secret ties to Al Qaeda.

  They concluded their business with a forced civility that left her angry. Mia went from the conference room to her hotel room, changed into workout clothes, and then spent an hour pummeling a target at the gym. She didn’t often lose her temper, but few things set her off as much as bigotry.

  Then she wrapped up negotiations with the old couple, sealing the deal on their arrangement. Their condo would do nicely, it seemed.

  It was under less than ideal circumstances that she got ready for work on Monday. Last night, the nightmares had come before she enjoyed more than a couple hours’ sleep. Mia loathed herself for being so weak, but she couldn’t seem to shake the trauma of how helpless she’d felt, tied to a chair with a dirty rag in her mouth. It seemed as if she should be over it, since she’d come to no physical harm.

  To offset that sense of vulnerability, she dressed in a black suit with a blue, lace-trimmed camisole beneath it: strength underscored with softness. Mia knew what men saw when they looked at her; she planned that reaction, from her coral-frosted mouth to the matching lacquer on her nails. She had long since learned to make the exterior camouflage the computer within. Men were never impressed that she could add a column of twelve four-digit numbers in her head in less than ten seconds.

  Mia took a last look around the place she would call home for the next three months. Unlike most of her contracts, this job wasn’t situated in a city large enough to offer corporate housing, but she’d gotten lucky with a snowbird couple heading to Arizona for the winter. Mia didn’t think Virginia winters were terrible, but the old folks did.