Kitabı oku: «The Devil You Know», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

A fter a morning of hiking around the beautiful estate, Adam showered and dressed in fresh khakis and a white polo shirt for the planned luncheon at the country club. He gave a silent whistle upon meeting Geena in the library.

“Very nice,” he murmured, ignoring the slight pout to her lips that indicated she would like a kiss. Maybe the weekend visit hadn’t been so smart, although it was part of the plan that he should distract the daughter of the house while Greg got Mr. Masterson’s approval for the bogus leasing agreements with the fake company Adam represented.

Since Geena knew he was with the FBI and had helped him set up the sting operation, he thought she was taking the friendly pretense a bit far. He hoped she wasn’t making plans for the two of them for when the case was resolved.

“Thank you, sir,” she said demurely, then laughed.

She wore white slacks with tiny gold stripes and a golden-colored, clingy blouse that crossed over her breasts and tied in the back at her waist. An enticing bit of tanned flesh was visible at her waist. Her gold sandals had three-inch heels, putting her at eye level with him.

He’d always liked his women tall and elegant, he grimly reminded himself. Until he’d met a certain small tomboyish woman who’d shown him the sweetest passion he’d ever known.

Hearing voices from the stairs, Geena picked up her purse, extracted her sunglasses and glanced impatiently toward the corridor. “Are you two ready?” she asked.

Scott and Roni entered the room. Her brother checked the clock. “Yes, we’re right on time.”

Adam noted the not quite concealed irritation in the other man. Scott and Geena, like many brothers and sisters, didn’t get along all that well.

Had circumstances been different, he and Honey might have been at odds, but with the difference in their ages and the fact that they’d had only each other while growing up, they were close. He suddenly missed her.

He wanted to question her about falling in love, about taking a chance on another person, about trusting in luck for once and a gut feeling that he should take what life offered and run with it.

Then what? What came next? Marriage and happily ever after, as Roni so confidently proclaimed?

Upon this odd note, he let himself look at Roni. His heart started pounding, as it had last week at her cottage.

She wore a short white skirt and a formfitting white top with blue sleeves and collar. Like Geena, the top and bottom didn’t quite meet, exposing a midsection of smooth flesh. A gold ring with a tiny cross dangling from it pierced the edge of her navel.

His lungs stopped working.

He stared at the bit of gold as it shifted constantly with each movement, each breath she took. He thought of kissing her there, of stripping the skirt from her perfect form and tasting the delectable flesh—

He broke the thought and held his arm out to Geena. “Shall we go?”

They followed the other couple to Scott’s car. He forced himself to think of winter snow and icy dips in the river until the fever left his blood.

On the short trip to the country club, he was mostly silent while the two women chatted. Anger—with himself for his lack of control, with his job for bringing him to this place and with the unfairness of life for making him long for things he couldn’t have—burned in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he finished the current task, he would request a transfer back to LA.

Fat chance, some snide part of him whispered. The division manager had wanted him out of the LA area after they broke that case so he’d be safe from vengeful cops.

Safe?

Glancing at Roni’s dark, gleaming hair in the front seat, he experienced a sinking sensation. He could have gone to New Mexico on a drug smuggling bust. Why had he chosen to come here?

“You’re quiet,” Geena murmured, leaning close. “Deep, dark thoughts?”

“Very deep, very dark,” he said with a wicked smile.

She shivered delicately. “Mmm, sounds delicious.”

When she laid a possessive hand on his knee, he didn’t pull away. Instead he clasped it in his and held it as they pulled into a parking space at the club. Through the side mirror, he met Roni’s eyes. They watched each other for a second as if sizing up an opponent, then she looked away.

He felt as if he’d taken a cheap shot at her. He quickly got out and went around to Geena’s side to open her door. Damn, but it was going to be a long weekend.

Halfway through lunch Roni was relieved to see Patricia on the last hole of the golfing green. When her friend finished the game, she stripped off her gloves, spotted Roni and her group, waved madly, then came over. Roni had told her to look for them.

The three men stood.

“Please, gentlemen, keep your seats,” Patricia told them. “I just stopped to say hello to Roni. We were roommates in college. She got me through those awful computer courses.”

“Patricia corrected all my English papers before I turned them in, or else I would still be trying to graduate,” Roni said, returning the implied compliment.

Adam invited Patricia to take his chair and pulled another over from an empty table. The day was sunny, so they had opted to sit on the dining terrace. Roni introduced her friend to the Masterson family and to Adam.

“Upjohn?” Charles repeated the last name. “There’s a Thomas Upjohn who lives in the area.”

Patricia wrinkled her nose prettily. “My father. I work in the loan department at the bank. Since he has no son, he’s decided I need to learn the family business.”

“She’s a whiz at it,” Roni said loyally. “She arranged the loan for my house and got me through all the paperwork. Even Seth approved of the transaction.”

She had to explain Seth was her brother and an attorney and that he reviewed all the family legal affairs.

“I know him,” the older Masterson told her. “He brought a suit against my company for a client and won. It was a business matter,” he added with a smile. “No hard feelings.”

Roni nodded.

Patricia ordered a glass of iced tea when the waiter came over, then settled in to chat with them. Roni felt more at ease with her friend there. She’d been to the country club with Patricia on other occasions, and it was nice to have reinforcements, so to speak.

Not that everything wasn’t just fine, at least as far as she was concerned, she mused when attention shifted away from her. There was tension between Scott and Geena. She thought the brother and sister didn’t like each other very much. Geena had probably bossed Scott around when they were kids, the same as her brothers and cousins had always tried to do to her.

She’d hated being ordered about. Except by Uncle Nick, of course. He was the undisputed boss of the Dalton gang.

Her heart warmed as she thought of the relative who’d taken the orphans in and given them shelter and a loving home. That aspect of him had never changed, not even when his own heart was aching with the loss of his wife and child not quite a year after the orphans had come to live with him and Aunt Milly and Tink.

With only a few months difference in their ages, she and Tink had become fast friends. It had been so nice to have another girl to play with. Then Tink was gone, leaving another hole in her heart…

She realized the others were looking at her. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

“Shall I see if we can get a tee time for this afternoon?” Geena asked. “There may be a cancellation.”

“I don’t play golf, but you three go ahead.”

“We don’t mind helping you,” Geena offered graciously. “It’s easy to learn.”

Roni grimaced to herself. It looked as if she was going to have to join them.

“Actually,” Patricia spoke up, “Roni has played a few rounds with me. She’s not bad for a beginner, but watch out for her wicked slice.”

Roni couldn’t recall if a slice meant she hit the ball to the right while a hook went to the left or vice versa.

Geena rose. “Then it’s settled. I’ll check with the pro and see if we can get a slot.”

Roni had a feeling she wasn’t going to enjoy this game at all. “When did you learn to play?” she asked Adam.

“I used to caddy when I was in high school. Sometimes I was asked to fill out a foursome.”

“I see.”

Charles and Danielle apologized and left them shortly after that. Patricia gave Roni’s arm a squeeze and said she had to run. She was in charge of a political dinner that evening for her father, for whom she often served as hostess.

Growing up without a mother had been an immediate bond between the two girls when they’d shared a room their freshman year at school, then an apartment thereafter. Patricia came from a wealthy banking family, but she was friendly and candid and casual about her background.

Scott saw a friend and excused himself, leaving her and Adam at the table. Roni sipped iced tea and observed the next group of golfers at the eighteenth hole.

“Scared?” Adam said.

“Of what?”

He shrugged. “Of looking like an amateur on the golf course. You Daltons don’t like to lose.”

“Well, I hate to have Geena show me up,” she admitted, bringing an unexpected smile to his face, “but I’ll live through it.”

“Good.”

A funny feeling invaded the pit of her stomach at his approving nod. “Uncle Nick said we should try new things as long as it wasn’t drugs or something illegal. Geena is probably an expert,” she added a trifle glumly.

His smile became a chuckle. “Probably. Just relax and try to enjoy it. Don’t worry about the score.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” She sighed loudly. “The grounds are nice here. If nothing else, I can admire the landscape while I’m hacking my way down the fairway.”

“Right.”

Her attitude lightened as he laughed again. Maybe she would get through this with her dignity intact. She vowed to do her best.

When Geena returned and reported they were scheduled for four o’clock, the problem of shoes came up. Determined not to be outdone by the other woman, Roni bought a pair of golfing shoes at the club. She carefully concealed her shock at the sticker price and put the cost on her credit card. She hoped Uncle Nick didn’t find out what she’d paid for them.

“They’ll last a long time,” Adam said, falling into step beside her as they went to the car where Scott waited.

“They’d better,” she said wryly.

Geena, on the other side of Adam, looked amused. “You can play in sneakers, too. Some people do.”

Her tone implied that those who did were social wash-outs. Roni smiled brightly. “It’s time I learned to play. Patricia loves it and is always after me to join her. Maybe I’ll get good enough to show her up.”

“What’s her handicap?” Geena wanted to know.

Roni hadn’t the foggiest idea. “Five.”

Geena looked surprised, then dubious.

“Maybe six,” Roni said, trying to look as if she knew what she was talking about.

“We’ll have to invite her to play sometime,” the other woman decided, a competitive light in her eyes.

Roni had thought Patricia was a wonderful player, but now she hoped her friend was pro material. She wanted to see someone beat the socks off the cool blonde, who seemed perfection personified. Maybe someday she would beat her, Roni mused, wondering how much golf lessons cost.

Glancing at Adam, who observed them with a slight frown on his handsome face, she hoped he didn’t realize she was seething from something very akin to jealousy. She didn’t like the feeling at all.

Roni lined up the borrowed driver behind the ball, eyed the flag on the pole at the last hole, then gave it her all. She observed as the ball went shooting off into the rough, hit, then, to her surprise, rolled onto the green. The far edge of the green, yes, but on the green, and this was only her second shot.

Geena—the cool, the skillful, the beautiful—drove straight down the fairway and landed in the middle of the green. Scott and Adam followed, then the foursome climbed in the golf cart and went to play the eighteenth hole.

Geena had played beyond her game, or so she said, and had given Adam a run for his money on the lovely course, coming in only two points behind him. Scott was ten points behind and obviously disgruntled about it. He was probably off his game due to having to play after her.

Her own score was so terrible, Roni saw no need to add it up. She’d lost two balls in the trees and two in water traps. Three times she’d had to pick up and move on without getting the stupid ball in the hole because other people were waiting for the green.

Adam’s handicap was nineteen. A handicap less than ten was considered close to pro status, so Geena had known that Roni had been talking through her hat when she’d claimed Patricia was in the five to six range.

Nothing like making a fool of oneself. She hadn’t been so humiliated since first grade when she’d forgotten the lines to the poem she’d written for Uncle Nick and he’d been in the audience to witness her failure.

“This is a difficult green,” Geena announced.

“Tell me about it,” Roni muttered.

Since she was the farthest from the hole, she walked to the edge of the green, stood at a tilt because the rough slanted downward there and, hardly glancing at the hole, gave the ball a whack with the putter Adam handed her. Three more whacks and she was done, even if she missed every time, she consoled her bruised ego.

The ball rolled merrily with the slope of the green. It was going to miss the hole. She pasted her cheeriest smile on her face. Stoic was her middle name.

Just then the ball swerved to the right. In a long graceful arc, it spiraled over the short grass in a tightening circle. To her amazement, it disappeared.

“A birdie,” Geena said. “I don’t believe it.”

Roni couldn’t believe it, either. She walked over to the hole and peered inside. The ball was there.

“Good going,” Adam said when she lifted it out of the cup. His eyes were filled with laughter.

She grinned at him, her world right once more. On this buoyant note, Roni made it through the casual dinner and the teasing she took over her score that evening.

During the evening meal, listening to Adam talk business with the Mastersons, she picked up on the fact that the family thought Adam was in some kind of communications leasing business, just as he’d said at breakfast. She also learned that Greg Williams was the chief financial officer of their company.

With a sudden sense of horror, it occurred to her that she might have blown Adam’s cover on his current case. She had to speak to him. Right away.

Roni paced the floor. Finally, at half past eleven, she heard Geena’s voice, then Adam’s, as they ascended the stairs. She eased her door open ever so little and noted which rooms they entered. As she’d suspected, their rooms were side by side, across the hall from hers and Scott’s.

At midnight, she figured everyone was in bed and asleep. Except Adam. She could see a sliver of light under his door. She tiptoed across the hall and silently turned the knob.

Adam, dressed in a sweat suit, sat in an easy chair, his feet on the matching ottoman, a book open on his lap. His eyes met hers, their frosty hue not very welcoming.

She slipped inside and closed the door. “I need to talk to you,” she whispered.

He nodded, but didn’t get up. His gaze swept over her satin pajamas, which were dark blue with a paisley print border in gold on the sleeves and legs.

Going to him, she perched on the edge of the ottoman and leaned close. “You remember a week ago Friday I was at the restaurant with Patricia and you were with—”

“GregWilliams,” Adam interrupted rather impatiently.

“Yes, well, you told him you and my cousin had worked on a couple of projects and that we had met at his wedding. Remember?”

He nodded.

“Then last night you mentioned Zack and Honey. I told Geena my cousin was a deputy sheriff—”

“Ah, yes, when you were comparing bloodlines.”

She flushed at the sarcastic tone and wished she hadn’t let her baser emotions get the better of her. “I don’t think Geena caught on,” she said contritely.

“Would it have mattered to you if she had?”

Roni peered into his unfriendly gaze. “Not then,” she admitted, “but now I’m truly sorry. I was envious, just for a moment, of all she had.”

The silence was brief, but intense.

“What, Little Bits, does she have that you haven’t got, tenfold?”

His voice was still stern, but other emotions—tenderness? sympathy? concern?—flicked through his eyes and were quickly hidden. She wondered if they were for her or for the confident Geena.

“Golfing skills,” she lamented.

He smiled slightly, and the tension eased. She grinned, then became serious. “Anyway, Mr. Masterson mentioned Greg Williams was with CTC,” she said in a barely audible voice.

“What bothers you about that?” Adam asked.

“I may have blown your cover.” She pinched pleats into the satin material of her pajamas while she considered the ramifications. “If Geena knows my cousin is a cop and Greg knows you’ve worked with him and they get to talking and all this comes out, then they may suspect you’re a cop.”

“I see.”

She stared at her nervous fingers and forced them to stop creasing the material. “I feel just wretched.”

His low laughter brought her head up. “I knew I was in for trouble when you fell on my table that day like a warning from heaven. I don’t know how I thought I could avoid you.” He laughed again. “Or your meddling.”

His resigned exasperation hurt, but she had no time for self-pity at the present. “Are you making fun of me?” she demanded. It certainly didn’t seem as if he was taking her all that seriously.

“No,” he denied, but he was smiling. “Next time you see Greg, flirt with him. Maybe he’ll tell you what he’s up to.”

“Is he cooking the books?”

“He seems to be the brain behind a kiting scheme with an offshore bank as well as various fake contracts. The last company he was with went bankrupt.”

“Ah-ha!” She thought furiously. “We really could put a worm in his computer and trace everything he does.”

“I know.”

“We also need to see who else he’s working with in the company. His e-mails could tell us that.”

“Right.”

His expression had become amused, albeit long-suffering, as she listed the things they could do. She realized he was letting her run on until she ran out of steam and shut up. She managed a smile. “Sorry. I do tend to get carried away. If I ever run into Greg again, what is your relationship with him?”

“I’m advising him on setting up long-term leasing contracts for CTC.”

Before leaving, she laid a hand on his arm. “Be careful,” she implored huskily. “It’s a dangerous game you play. There could be others involved.”

“Such as Geena?”

He was teasing, but Roni nodded. “She and Scott work there, and it wouldn’t be the first time a man’s heirs have sabotaged the family business.”

Before he could reply, they heard Geena’s voice. “Adam, are you awake?” she called softly.

Roni realized there was a connecting door between the rooms. For a second, she was consumed with anger. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was keeping you from a date,” she whispered, then dived behind the curtain next to the armoire as the knob rattled, then turned and the door opened.

“Can we talk?” Geena asked, coming into the room.

Through the silk material of the drapes, Roni could see the other woman’s outline against the lamp. Geena sat on the ottoman where Roni had perched.

“I saw you talking to my father before dinner. Do you think he suspects anything?”

“No,” Adam told the other woman.

“You’ve been at the office for two weeks. What do you think?”

His soft laughter was amused. “That it’s late and we should be thinking about sleep.”

Geena also laughed. “I can think of things other than sleep.”

Her tone was so suggestive, only a complete idiot could fail to get her meaning. Roni set her teeth and waited to see how Adam would get out of this one. Even the bold FBI agent wouldn’t make love to one woman while another hid behind the curtains and observed.

But she wasn’t so sure when the shadowy figures merged into one. Geena sighed contentedly and loudly as she settled into his lap. Roni clenched her hands and stilled the indignant pound of her heart.

“What is it?” Geena asked. “You seem tense.”

“I’m wondering what to say if your father comes bursting in,” Adam told her.

The husky laughter was an open invitation. “Darling, I’m not a schoolgirl. In fact, I was married briefly when I got out of college.”

“What happened?”

“I discovered I didn’t need another superior male telling me what to do. My father was quite enough.”

“We men haven’t adjusted to you modern women,” Adam commented. “We’re still in the caveman era.”

Geena’s voice became a purr. “There are moments when a woman likes a strong, masterful man.”

Their heads merged into one blob against the lighter color of the damask chair. Roni stuck her head out the side of the curtain. Adam gave her a glare while Geena snuggled her head against his throat.

Roni glared back, then ducked behind the curtain again. She’d just wanted to remind him that she was still here.

“Mmm,” Geena crooned.

Roni adjusted the curtain so she could see through a gap between it and the armoire. Geena’s hand was stroking up and down Adam’s chest. He caught it and held it pressed to his chest. His face looked like a thundercloud ready to discharge the lightning that had gathered in it.

“Are you really sleepy?” Geena asked, leaning her head back on his arm. “Adam? What is it? You look…”

Roni waited to hear what word Geena would use to describe his expression, but the other woman shrugged as if she couldn’t think of the appropriate term.

“I have a headache,” he muttered.

“A headache,” Geena repeated as if she’d never heard of such a thing. “Perhaps we can kiss it all better.”

Roni had to smile. She was willing to bet the lovely blonde hadn’t heard many men claim a headache while she was bent on seducing them. Would Adam have succumbed had he and the temptress been alone? The smile evaporated.

The curtain huffed out as she sighed and brought her temper under control. One thing about having five male relatives around to keep a person straight—she’d learned to take it on the chin, as Seth had often told her she must.

Glancing at the embracing couple, she caught Adam’s warning frown. He must have heard the sigh. Oh, well.

“I think it’s time to call it a day,” he said to his clinging companion.

“Good idea,” she murmured, not taking the hint.

He stood and dropped her gently so that she had to stand on her own. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With hands on her shoulders, he ushered her from the room, then flicked the lock after he closed the connecting door. He turned, put a hand to his head as if an ache really had settled there and returned to the chair.

“That was too close for comfort,” he muttered.

Roni took a seat on the ottoman again, then crossed her legs and tucked her feet under her. With elbows on her knees, she went over the details of the case.

“Do you think any of the family are in on the scam with Greg Williams?” she asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, Geena is pretty sharp. So is the stepmother, Danielle. And Scott has worked for his father since he was old enough to run a copy machine. Maybe Mr. Masterson doesn’t appreciate their work and pays them accordingly. Maybe they want more money, and they want it now.”

“Maybe.”

“The company stock skyrocketed after Danielle came to work. I remember because my brother made us all buy shares, then he made us sell when the price doubled. When the tech bubble burst, the company lost thirty percent of its value.”

“Some tech companies lost ninety percent. Look, could we discuss this another time, like daybreak or something?”

“Do you really have a headache?” she inquired. “I have some pills in my purse—”

He’d been resting with his head against the back of the chair. Now he leaned forward and caught her by the shoulders. “Pills won’t help where I ache,” he muttered, his face looking like a thundercloud once more.

“Where is it?” she asked in perfect innocence, worried because men never admitted to pain unless it was serious.

He said a curse word, then his mouth was on hers, hot and angry and demanding, then, all at once, gentle and sweet and cajoling.

She couldn’t help it. She melted into him.

His arms came around her and lifted her from the footstool. She landed in his lap, her body blending with his in a wonderfully comfortable fit, her hips snug in the groove between his thighs.

His hands searched for the hem of her pajama top, then they were on her skin, gliding up and down her side before he pressed her against his arm and one hand explored her thoroughly, back and front.

He cursed again, then resumed the kiss. Hunger, painful and sharp, arced through her. When he cupped her breast, she pushed against his palm, wanting his touch, needing it with a desperation that only he summoned in her.

Finally she had to turn her head in order to get a breath. He deftly flipped open the buttons between them, then his mouth followed where his hands had been, his tongue skimming over her flesh, pulling in tender sucking motions until sensation ran from the point he touched to all parts of her body.

“It’s like being on fire,” she whispered.

“I know.”

She pressed her forehead against his when he looked up and met her eyes. “I want more.”

He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Don’t. Don’t tempt me,” he said in a hoarse voice she’d never heard from him.

Smoothing his hair with fingers that trembled, she admitted, “I want to. I want to drive you mad with longing…the way you do me. For weeks after we kissed at the ranch, I couldn’t sleep. I wanted you with me. I ached. For you, only for you.”

“Damn, damn, damn,” he said softly, a litany of need in the word as he sought control.

“I don’t want to stop,” she said.

He caught her hands with one of his and held them behind her while he fastened the satin-covered buttons. “Nothing good can come of this, so let’s not start.”

She wanted to argue, but he looked so tormented, she simply nodded. He stood and placed her on her feet. At the door, he leaned close and said, “Geena was the one who called me on this case. She was the one who thought Greg’s financial proposals were suspicious.”

With that, he ushered her into the hall and closed the door firmly against the questions that sprang to her mind. She heard the soft click as he locked it.

In her elegant bedroom a few minutes later, she lay in the middle of the huge mattress and went over all that had happened that day.

So. She’d wanted to believe that Geena was working with Greg, but she’d been wrong. She mentally apologized to the other woman for her ill thoughts.

Rethinking the final few moments in Adam’s room, she shivered as the yearning returned. He shared it, but he didn’t want to.

She’d had enough of fun and frolic at Scott’s family home. In the morning she would ask to go home.

You can run, but you can’t hide.

Maybe she was running, but she wasn’t hiding, she told her conscience. She knew that Adam didn’t want her, not in any way that truly mattered.