Crossing the Line Read online

  Where was Mark headed with this? “You’ve got a point,” Dante conceded.

  “Know what I do when stress gets to me?”

  “Fish?”

  Mark laughed. “Fishing’s good but a little dull, if you know what I mean.”

  “I hear you.”

  “You ever try anything to take the edge off?” Mark asked.

  “You mean like pharmaceuticals?”

  His smile widened. “I definitely mean pharmaceuticals.”

  Dante swallowed hard as the magnitude of the moment hit him. Mark was on the verge of telling him about Rapture. He couldn’t act too eager. He had to make this look realistic. “You got a special pill that works for you?”

  “You ever take Viagra?”

  “Never needed any.”

  “Not from need, but for recreation. Believe me when I tell you the stuff greatly enhances sexual pleasure.”

  “Does it?”

  “Ever done any Ecstasy?”

  “Hey, man, you said it yourself. I’ve been working too hard to play.”

  “Well, things are about to change for you my friend. You are about to have the experience of a lifetime.” Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin oblong yellow pill.

  Sharp-edged excitement chewed on Dante along with anger and disappointment. He had wanted to give Mark the benefit of the doubt that he was not involved with Furio Gambezi and the manufacturing of illegal designer drugs. But the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that such a belief was a fairy tale. “What’s this?”

  “Rapture. It’s a euphoric libido enhancer that produces the ultimate sexual high. It has the stiffening and staying power of Viagra, with the heightened sensory awareness of Ecstasy. It’s like Tantric sex in a tablet. You can stay hard and horny and go at it for days. Cassandra loves it. They can’t get enough of the stuff in Hollywood.”

  Dante looked from the pill in Mark’s open palm to the measured expression in his eyes. “Is it a prescription drug?”

  “No.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “That sounds mysterious.”

  “Give it a try. I promise you won’t regret it,” Mark said, admitting nothing.

  The urge to double up his fist and smack his old roommate in the mouth was so strong it was all Dante could do to restrain himself. He kept thinking of Leeza, destroyed by drugs and her association with Furio Gambezi.

  His and Mark’s eyes locked.

  This was too easy. Here was Mark willingly sharing his illicit secret. Dante didn’t trust “easy.” It could be a trap. His cover could have been blown; the pill laced with poison, and this was Mark’s way of getting rid of him.

  “Take it,” Mark said, his words a command, not a request. “And then go enjoy the party. Tomorrow, you call me up and tell me what you think. If we’re of like minds about this product, I could have a very lucrative business proposition for you.”

  “Manufacturing this drug?”

  Mark gave a noncommittal shrug, but his eyes said, Hell yes.

  A chill shot up Dante’s spine. So that was it. Mark was looking for a business partner. Dante was smart enough to understand why. Mark needed a scapegoat to blame the whole thing on if things went south.

  The irony was so sweet Dante almost laughed. Mark had unwittingly picked the undercover FBI agent for his pigeon. With this kind of luck, he’d have the case wrapped up by Monday.

  “By the way, you’re going to be needing this.” Mark reached inside his jacket, drew out a three-pack of condoms and slipped them into the front pocket of Dante’s shirt.

  “Now down the hatch.” Mark looked meaningfully at the pill in Dante’s hand.

  Realizing he was sealing his fate, but knowing there was no way he could refuse at this point, Dante popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed.

  COSMOPOLITAN IN HAND, Elle stood with her friends in the middle of Pete Russell’s family room. One of Pete’s music videos was playing on all of the big-screen plasma television sets scattered throughout the house. The place was noisier than downtown Austin on New Year’s Eve. Elle could barely hear her own thoughts.

  Across the room, Cassandra Roberts was talking to the Lieutenant Governor of Texas. Over in the corner, four Dallas Cowboys dominated the foosball table. Near the fireplace a colorful local mystery writer was knocking back shooters of butterscotch schnapps with a Pulitzer-prizewinning journalist. The party was a veritable who’s who of Confidential Rejuvenations’s patient list.

  Elle, accustomed to celebrity, was not impressed. She knew what these people looked like with their clothes off. That was one thing about being a nurse—you learned pretty quickly illness and death didn’t play favorites. VIPs got sick just like everyone else. Their celebrity status couldn’t protect them from the inevitable.

  “What’s at the back door?” Julie shouted above the music.

  “Huh?” Elle blinked.

  “You keep staring at the back door.”

  “Do I?” Elle shouted back.

  “Yes, you do,” Vanessa confirmed. “You seem very distracted.”

  “It’s the loud music that’s distracting.” Elle waved a hand at the surround-sound-system speakers mounted in the corners.

  “It’s more than that.” Vanessa arched an eyebrow. She knew something was up. It wasn’t easy pulling anything over on Vanessa.

  “Okay,” Elle admitted. “I saw Mark ditch Cassandra and leave the party with Dante.”

  “So?” Vanessa shrugged. “Why should you care?”

  “I don’t care,” Elle said, knowing she was lying. She did care about Dante and she was afraid that he was getting too chummy with her ex. Did he have any idea what Mark was capable of? “I’m just wondering what Mark is up to, that’s all.”

  “You’ve got to stop thinking about him, Elle.” Julie linked an arm through hers. “Here, let’s look around the room and see if we can find you a red-hot celebrity stud to go home with.”

  “I don’t want a red-shot stud.” And she certainly didn’t want to go home with a celebrity.

  Just then the back door opened and Mark sauntered in. Elle darted a glance behind her ex-husband. No sign of Dante. Disappointment settled over her and she realized she’d been waiting here just to see him. What was it about that man that so intrigued her? Hadn’t she had enough of doctors?

  “Oooh,” Julie said. “Looks like Mark is coming over. You want we should scatter?”

  Elle grabbed Julie’s forearm with her free hand, her cosmopolitan balanced in the other. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with him.”

  Mark’s smile was patently false. She had come to recognize that artificial smile for exactly what it was—a tool. He wanted something from her. Every muscle in Elle’s body tensed.

  “Hello, Ell-evator,” he greeted her with the goofy name he’d called her when they were dating.

  “What do you want?” she snapped.

  “Can’t a guy just stop by and say hi to his ex-wife?” He rounded his eyes, trying to look innocent. She knew that look and she wasn’t falling for it.

  “Not when that guy is you.”

  “You’ve got to get over your bitterness, babe. It’ll age you prematurely.” He canted his head. “Is that a new wrinkle on your forehead?”

  Elle wanted so badly to fling her drink in his smug face, but she refused to rise to his taunts. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d gotten to her.

  “What do you want?” she reiterated through clenched teeth. How in the world had she ever thought she loved this man?

  He had you fooled. He’s a consummate actor. He even had your family fooled and they’re all cops. You can’t blame yourself.

  But she did.

  She loved too easily and with all her heart. And she was loyal to the bone, never giving up on those she’d loved until they pushed her to extremes.

  Loving and loyal.

  Her best qualities, or so people tol
d her. Yeah, right. For her, loving loyalty had been a trap, blinding her to Mark’s flaws, which she should have seen. She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t be so stupid in the future. No more loving easily or blindly. No more making a fool of herself over a man.

  Mark leaned in close. Too close. His hand brushed hers, the one holding the drink. He pressed his lips to her ear. “It’s time to loosen up, Ell-evator.”

  Elle refused to shudder, to show any reaction at all. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. What in the hell was he talking about? Why was he over here bothering her when she could see Cassandra across the room shooting daggers with her glare?

  “Your new wife’s giving you the evil eye,” Elle said. “Better be a good boy and scurry on over before she takes away your Rolex.”

  “Bitchy,” Mark whispered. “Looks like you haven’t had enough to drink yet. Bottoms up.” Then he turned and walked toward Cassandra.

  It was only then Elle realized she’d been holding her breath. Anger coursed through her. She had no idea what her ex was up to or what he was trying to pull other than to rattle her cage.

  Bastard.

  Hand trembling, she raised the cosmo to her lips and knocked back the vodka-soaked drink. The liquid hit her tongue with a sharp, acrid taste and she’d already gulped down more than half of it before she recognized the taste was off.

  Wrinkling her nose, she wiped her palm across her mouth and shivered against the bitter flavor. That was the worst cosmo she’d ever tasted. She set the remainder of the drink on a nearby table.

  “What was that all about?” Vanessa asked her.

  Elle shook her head. “I have no idea. He’s just being a jerk-off I guess. Yuck, that drink was terrible. I’m going after something else to get the taste of it out of my mouth. You guys want anything from the bar?”

  “I’m good to go.” Julie held up a full glass of white wine.

  “I’m not drinking,” Vanessa said. “On call all weekend.”

  Elle nodded and made a beeline for the bar. Her impulse was to get drunk enough to forget about Mark, but by the time she’d stood in line for another drink her mood had changed. Suddenly she was feeling very warm and mellow inside. The cosmo might have tasted awful, but it had quickly gone to her head. Instead of ordering another drink, she simply asked for a glass of water; her mouth had suddenly gone bone-dry.

  She took her water and turned away from the bar. A rolling heat started at the top of her head and oozed all the way down her body to lodge tightly in her groin. Sweet rippling waves of sensation washed over her. Her entire body felt tingly hot. Her breasts ached and her nipples beaded.

  No beating around the bush, she was straight-up horny. Everything seemed to blur in a timeless haze. She drifted around the room giddy and dazed. Wow. What had been in that drink?

  The room was aglow with color. Everyone was so good-looking. All around her couples were talking and touching and kissing. The pounding tempo of her heart joined the throbbing beat of the music. She felt smooth and liquid and primal. The erotic sensation pulsated through every cell in her body.

  Growing, escalating, swelling.

  Her gaze traveled around the room. From man to man. She stared at hips and butts and broad shoulders and flat chests. She licked her lips. What was it Julie had said about picking up a red-hot stud and taking him home with her? What was it Vanessa had suggested about a wild affair with a rebound guy to cleanse Mark from her palate? The idea held extraordinary appeal.

  Yes. That’s exactly what she was going to do. Have sex with the next gorgeous man she laid eyes on and forget all about her stupid ex-husband.

  And that was when she spied Dante.

  DANTE STAGGERED INTO the party, teeth clenched against the erotic sensations assaulting him at every turn. His body was on fire with desire. The Rapture he’d swallowed dulling his brain, scorching his body and hardening his cock, making him feel thunderously out of control.

  Every sensation was magnified, amplified, exaggerated.

  He needed a woman and he needed one now.

  No, no. He was not going to give into the drug. He was strong. He could fight this.

  But not when Elle Kingston was headed straight toward him, a provocative smile curling her full raspberry-colored lips. Those devastating lips.

  He wanted to taste them, feel the rush of her breath. She had the most incredible mouth. The swell of the lower lip, the shapely arch of the upper and the sweet territory in between where the glossy satin of her pout yielded to the silky, moist secrets of her tongue.

  God, she was beautiful.

  The emerald-green halter dress she wore accentuated the mossy green of her eyes and complimented her rich auburn hair. Her arms were bare and the swingy hem of the dress molded against her thighs as she walked.

  A fresh surge of heated desire shot through his body.

  Elle was smart, sexy and stubborn as hell—the three things Dante loved most in a woman.

  And all he could think about was sex.

  His gaze fixed on hers. He had to get inside her. Had to possess her, penetrate her, permeate her in some way. Her green eyes glistened with an illustrious sheen. Her auburn hair was a riot of curls around her interesting face.

  Elle Kingston’s face.

  Those feminine cheekbones, the generous mouth, the eyes that told him she was more woman than he could handle. Ever since he’d arrived at Confidential Rejuvenations he’d imagined making love to her in a hundred different ways but he’d never intended on acting on those impulses.

  Until now.

  It’s the Rapture. You can’t make love to her, no matter how badly you might want to. You’re under the effects of a mind-altering—

  She licked her lips and he totally lost his train of thought.

  When had she gotten so deeply under his skin? This sort of thing didn’t happen to Dante. He was aloof, self-contained and largely unaffected by romantic feelings.

  But that was all gone now.

  Rapture. It’s the Rapture.

  “Hello, Dante,” Elle murmured when she was close enough to be heard over the loud music.

  “Elle.” It was all he could say. No more words came from his mouth.

  “I want to be with you,” she said.

  He didn’t question it. Right now, in his addled state of mind, it made perfect sense.

  “I want to be with you, too.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes, their meaning clear. If the room hadn’t been packed with people he would have torn her clothes off right then and there.

  “Where can we go?” she asked.

  “Come on.” He took her hand. “We’ll find a place.”

  Her hand felt thin and fragile in his, as if she might break. A sudden rush of tenderness swept through him and he had the strangest urge to scoop her into his arms and carry her away.

  He pulled her through the house, past movie stars and musicians, past groupies and hangers-on. They weren’t the only ones looking for a make-out spot. They were almost running as they tried locked bedroom door after locked bedroom door.

  “Hurry, hurry,” she urged him. “I need you.”

  He was frantic. She was frantic. It was crazy, wild. He’d never felt anything like it. In his drugged state, her desperation did not seem odd. It matched Dante’s own flaming desire.

  Outside, he thought. When Mark had taken him out to the lake, he’d seen a two-story garage at the side of the house.

  “Come on,” he said, and led her out the back entrance.

  They stumbled outside into the darkness, past couples kissing on the patio, past the hot tub where guests sat in whirling water, past the swaying cottonwood trees, leaves rustling in the breeze. The air was rich with the smell of honeysuckle and fresh-mown grass. The lights were out in the garage. They approached the side door. Dante prayed it wasn’t locked.

  The door opened at his touch and swung inward.

  He flicked on the lights and closed the door behind them. The four-car ga
rage housed a Bentley, a Hummer, two Harley-Davidson motorcycles and a Cadillac Escalade. Nowhere to make love here unless they crawled into the back of a vehicle.

  “Upstairs,” Elle said, the desperation in her voice matching the pounding desperation in his groin. She dragged him up the stairs to the second story. They found a rumpus room with a glorious pool table just made for lust-crazed sex.

  She turned into him. Her breasts pressed against his bicep. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. He splayed a palm against her lower back.

  Her belly was pressed flat against the waistband of his pants. She had to feel his hard-on; there was no way she could miss it. He could certainly feel her belly trembling and her nipples stiffening.

  She snaked her arms around his neck. “Make love to me, Dante, make love to me now.”

  He wanted to be a gentleman, to double-check her intentions by asking her if this was what she really wanted. But the gentlemanly part of his brain had checked out. Fogged by passion and Rapture and Elle.

  Sweet Elle.

  He dipped his head.

  Her gaze was fixed on his lips, begging for a kiss.

  Dante moaned. He’d wanted to do this from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. His hand crept up her spine to the nape of her neck, his fingers pushing up through the beautiful red tangle of curls.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

  And because he couldn’t take one minute more of not being completely naked and pressed against her, bare skin to bare skin, Dante tilted her head and speared his tongue past her moist, receptive lips.

  6

  DANTE’S MOUTH SIZZLED against Elle’s, delicious as prime rib fresh off the grill. He heated her up from the inside out. Searing her, branding her, claiming her, flash-melting the part of her that had frozen up like Iceland in February.

  For one silly, illogical minute she wished they could stay fused like this together forever. His heat warming her heart, nurturing her soul in the way that it ached to be nurtured.

  He kissed her. Hard and hot and deep.

  His grip tightened around her, pulling her close, holding her against him. She melted into him like caramel and hot fudge. Her eyelids drifted closed. Her knees quivered. She floated along, dazzled and dizzy. It felt like the most natural thing in the entire world.