Don’t Let Go
© 2007 Sydney Somers
Book two in the Spellbound Series.
Private investigator Finn Calder would sooner take a Lancaster witch out to dinner than work another cheating spouse case. Considering the long standing feud between their two families, that’s saying a lot. But when gorgeous Bree Jacobs works her way into the middle of his case with one memorable lap dance, Finn starts to think things are finally looking up.
The last man Bree Lancaster Jacobs expected to be attracted to was a cocky P.I. with his share of family secrets. Not even an age-old rivalry can stop her heart from pounding whenever Finn gets too close. As they work to solve a murder they both have a vested interest in, Bree knows she’s in real danger of losing her heart to a man who could never love her.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Don’t Let Go:
He stopped outside the first door. It had taken surprising little effort to get one of the club’s regulars to chat about the place and who was who. A brief peek out back during his quick stop here yesterday was all it took to get a better feel for the layout of the place. It wasn’t like he was trying to infiltrate Fort Knox, but he preferred to avoid going into any situation blind if he could help it.
The door handle turned easily, the music from the main stage masking his entry. He closed it quietly behind him.
Damn. He obviously should have taken a harder look in here yesterday. The sparse conditions didn’t exactly give him a lot of places to hide the small camera.
Finn walked toward the stereo system, thinking it might be the only place the device could blend in. He doubted Dade would look too closely here. It was the stripper he’d have to worry about it.
The door he’d noticed off to his right opened, and the light dimmed even further.
“You’re early,” came the feminine voice behind him.
Turning around slowly, Finn stared at the silhouette in the doorway, felt his eyes widen as she moved farther into the room. It took him a second to stop staring at the sexy corset and barely-there thong for it to penetrate his mind that he knew her.
“You,” she said softly, a trace of annoyance filtering into her voice. Her smile dimmed for a heartbeat before she turned it back up to full siren status. “I guess if I caught your name earlier this wouldn’t have been such…a surprise.”
“You’re not Candy,” he said, wondering if there was some important detail he’d missed. Louise had called her Bree back at the coffee shop. Maybe Candy was some kind of stage name, but he doubted it. Erica Dade had described the stripper as a lanky brunette just that morning.
The woman in front of him definitely wasn’t the one who regularly gave Mason Dade his Monday-night lap dances.
“Candy went home. She wasn’t feeling well. She asked me to fill in.”
Finn didn’t move a muscle. It was a fight to keep his gaze from roaming over every inch of tantalizing skin bared to him. The fact that she wasn’t Candy pretty much ruined his chances for getting the evidence he needed for Erica tonight.
And that is a bad thing because?
She took another step in his direction and tilted her face up to study him closer. A flash of something filled her eyes before she blinked it away. Anger? He frowned. Maybe she wasn’t crazy about her job. A handful of times his career as a PI had brought him into contact with a number of women who made money using their bodies one way or another. Some enjoyed it, for others it was a means to an end. Which category did she fall into, he wondered?
“Why don’t you take a seat?”
Finn shook his head. He really needed to get out of there before Dade came along. Assuming the investor planned on keeping his appointment, he should be arriving any minute.
Bree lightly gripped the front of his shirt, tugging him forward. His gaze dropped from her mouth to the smooth swells of her breasts pushing against the top of the corset. Whoever thought corsets belonged in the past didn’t fully appreciate the sexy look of them. Being a man who usually preferred a naked woman in his arms more than one all dressed up, he was seriously rethinking things.
She leaned up, her mouth close to his ear, her breath warm. “Trust me when I say, I can entertain you just as well as Candy can.” She led him to the chair and circled around slowly, her hand trailing across his chest.
He tensed at the slow slide of her fingers. The soft friction fired his blood and he stopped himself from catching her hand and drawing her closer.
She turned him around and pushed him down on the chair.
Leave while you still can.
Finn ignored the sensible command his brain shot off and sat, distracted as she leaned down with her mouth inches from his. Her lips hovered close to his jaw and he shifted in place to accommodate the growing pressure in his groin.
She straightened, her breasts now on even keel with his mouth before she backed up a step.
“Now tell me, Mr. Dade, do you like what you see?”
What were the odds the first man to catch her interest in forever would turn out to be a low-life investor who didn’t deserve much more than to be turned into a wart-covered toad and dumped into the closest swamp?
And she was really tempted to do just that. If she thought for a minute she could actually get away with it, she would. It didn’t matter that such an attempt would suck her magic dry or that it wouldn’t be permanent. She still might take her chances with repercussions from the Tribunal, just as soon as the scumbag confessed he’d taken Marion’s money and she discovered what he’d done with it.
Glacier blue eyes roamed over her face in one long, hot pass. She resisted the instinctive urge to close her eyes under such blatant hunger.
Why couldn’t he have been unattractive, or at the very least, leer at her? It would make the whole situation more bearable to know she hadn’t wasted a second thought on this guy and what that full mouth might taste like.
She cursed inwardly. Fate was a real bitch sometimes.
Bree turned away from him, the weight of his gaze on her next-to-naked backside like a wave of warm water rolling down her spine. She chose the top CD and popped it in.
It didn’t matter what she danced to. After being robbed while traveling through Germany, she’d chosen to make enough money to last her until her cards were replaced by dancing in a club. The money was good, the drunks, not so much. But it was better than calling her parents or Marion for help.
Lenny Kravitz’s “Again” came over the speakers. Figuring this was business and it didn’t matter what the song was, Bree moved back to him, hips swaying.
“I think there’s been a little mix-up…” He trailed off the second she started to move her body in time with the music. Bree took her time, making sure every slow roll of her hips caught his full attention. In front of him, beside him, behind him. She made sure every angle gave him something to admire.
By the time she straddled his legs, not quite seated in his lap, Bree knew he was all but riveted. His gaze didn’t linger on her breasts as much as she expected, catching him more than once watching her face as though it were as interesting as the rest of her.
That alone left her out of her element and she sought to distract him from seeing anything more than what she wanted by hooking her fingers under his collar and thrusting her breasts closer to his face.
He didn’t even glance down. The corner of his mouth tipped up in the same playful smile she’d found her heart tripping to in the coffee shop. He raised a hand and, from the corner of her eye, watched it hover next to her waist as though he didn’t know if he should dare touch her.
At the achy anticipation that craved to feel his hand come into contact with her bare skin, she cursed herself. Right then she wanted him to be anyone else. Someone whose touch she could not only welcome, but invite. Enjoy.
He finally lowered his gaze but instead of feeling relieved he was no longer searching her eyes, a new kind of tension stretched her insides taut as his mouth was centimeters from the tops of her breasts.
She shook it off and knew she needed to work at getting to the point of all this. She set her hands on his shoulders. “Like the show so far, Mr. Dade?”
“I think we need to get something straight—”
Unwilling to risk him pulling back because she wasn’t his regular girl, Bree rocked back on her heels, sliding down his lap.
He closed his eyes, opening them a second later, and fastening onto hers. She brushed against him again, bringing her front in full contact with his chest.
He gripped her hips this time and shook his head. “You really need to stop doing that.”
She leaned forward, her mouth hovering above his ear. “Is there a problem?”
“Aside from not being Mr. Dade, no, not really.”
Bree froze. She leaned back and stared hard into his eyes. “You’re not Mason Dade?”
“Right about now I sure as hell wish I was.”