But her heart didn’t seem to care about her indecisiveness. It was beating away like she’d just run a marathon. She was going on a date with Hunter!
Ugh, how old was she? This had to stop. Shut it down, Snow White.
Too late. The virus was too far gone, the only hope was to ride it out. How long had it taken for her to move on from her crush with Jacob? Surely no more than a few weeks. She could do that. Just let it run its course. And until it did, she’d make sure she stayed in control at all times.
He was watching her and she tried not to shift beneath that all-seeing gaze. Tilting up her chin, she kept her voice satisfyingly steady. “You’ll be my date on Friday.”
He arched one brow. “Excuse me?”
She licked her lips and watched as his eyes followed the movement. He wasn’t the only one with power here. “You said ‘you’d be my date on Friday’ but I was the one who asked you out. And it’s my event. So you’ll be my date.”
Was she babbling? It had made sense in her head before she opened her mouth. But now she was rapidly starting to feel like a complete and utter idiot.
The amusement lighting up his dark brown eyes confirmed it.
She hated this man. And she liked him. This crush business was for the birds. Never again. She’d find a vaccine if need be.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be your date.”
“Fine.” Somehow her win didn’t feel like such a win at this particular moment. He moved toward her again and the tension in the room grew thick. She resisted the urge to hold her breath again and almost immediately regretted that decision. He smelled too good—it was far more than just liking a scent. The reaction was visceral. Chemical. Something in her combusted when it came into contact with him.
That internal explosion left her rational mind in its wake. She found herself staring up at him. What had they been talking about? She’d been trying to make a point, but what was it?
He reached out and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her up against his chest at the same time that his lips crushed hers in a kiss that was fierce and possessive.
And suddenly it didn’t matter what her point had been. Winning and losing lost all meaning, and thoughts of her father’s firm and her work there fled from her brain. No thoughts remained, just feeling. Sensation. His heartbeat thumping against her chest, keeping time with her own rapid pulse. The feel of his large hands clutching her waist. His arms around her keeping her safe and warm and enclosed in a world of their own.
His tongue teased her lips and pressed against her teeth, gaining access and taking control. With every thrust of his tongue, she lost a little more reason.
Somehow this loss didn’t feel like such a loss at this particular moment.
Chapter Seven
Jenna was still riding high on a combination of sexual frustration and euphoric bliss when she reached her father’s penthouse apartment an hour later. Hunter had ended the kiss abruptly, leaving her panting and aching for more.
She might have felt hurt and abandoned in addition to being bereft if it wasn’t for the fact that he was satisfyingly rattled. He’d stammered and stumbled his way out of her apartment, saying he’d see her at work on Monday when in fact he would see her the next day, Thursday.
And then Friday he’d be her date.
She bit back the stupidly girly squeal of excitement. Maybe it was all this talk about high school reunions that had her acting like she was still in high school. That had to be it.
“Am I interrupting something?” Her father’s voice cut into her thoughts and she realized that he’d been talking for quite a while and she hadn’t heard a thing.
Clearing her throat she tried to feign interest as he continued on about one of his cases, on which she was supposedly consulting. Because she wasn’t actually working on his cases, it was hard to care. Still, he was her father and had been bedridden for a week—a sympathetic ear shouldn’t be too terribly difficult to provide.
Finally it was her turn to talk about her progress. She’d considered what she’d say the entire way over there. Earlier in the week she’d given a brief update about her interactions with his associates but had left out the part about Hunter. She wasn’t entirely sure why, maybe because she hadn’t had enough information to make it worthwhile to talk about. He would only pose questions that she couldn’t answer. But having little other leads, she decided to let him in on her revelation that Margaret had hired a private eye.
After hearing her out, Donald stared straight ahead and let out a long string of non-complimentary epithets about his ex-wife. He ended by muttering, “…that manipulative witch.”
Somehow he managed to make that part sound like a term of endearment. “How exactly is Margaret being manipulative?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s up to yet, but she’s definitely up to no good and this proves it.”
Jenna was fairly certain Hunter’s mere existence proved nothing. Not yet, at least. But she was hopeful that after their date she’d learn more. Her father seemed to be on the same wavelength. “You need to get close to this man. Figure out what he’s doing for Margaret.”
She nodded. “I’m already on it.” She briefly explained how she’d been getting to know him outside of work and her father listened quietly. Too quietly. Her father only got that quiet when he was analyzing something or someone, and she had the distinctly uncomfortable impression that right now he was focusing that laser-like attention on her.
Sure enough, after several contemplative moments spent staring at her, he fell back against the bed with a groan. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen for Margaret’s tricks.”
Jenna’s mouth fell open. “What tricks?”
He shook his head. “If Margaret brought someone in from the outside, it was for one reason—to get information on me.”
Self-absorbed much? Jenna kept that comment to herself. “What are you suggesting? That I’m somehow in on this with Margaret?”
“No, of course not.” He waved that off before adding, “But I do believe that Margaret is hoping to take advantage of your gullibility.”
That was too much. Laughable almost.
Almost.
“Gullible…me?” Jenna repeated the word several times, each a little louder than the last. “In what universe am I gullible? Worldly, maybe. I’ve even heard jaded, but gullible?”
He gave her a look that was worse than any chastisement. “Must I remind you of the Easter Bunny incident?”
“I was nine!”
Her father ignored her outrage. “He’s clearly using you to get to me.”
“For what?” Her voice had risen to a distressingly high pitch.
He shook his head. “That part I haven’t figure out yet.”
“Right,” she drawled. “So it’s incredibly obvious he’s using me, but you have no clue why.”
If he sensed her sarcasm he didn’t comment on it. “Exactly.”
She was ready to laugh again but it stuck in her throat. Suddenly she was remembering every interaction—every aw-shucks head scratch, every dark lingering gaze. Every kiss. What if he had set out with an agenda? What if Margaret had somehow gotten wind of the fact that she would be joining the firm on her father’s behalf and had set this up from the get go.
Holy cow. Maybe the whole reason he was undercover was to dupe her.
She shook her head. No. That was stupid. Her father’s paranoia was clearly clouding her judgement. She was the one who had struck up conversation with him…wasn’t she? She remembered that she’d intended to get close to him, but had she asked him out for coffee that first day or vice versa?
Had she been getting close to him or had it been the other way around?
Turning to face her father head on, she demanded, “Has it ever occurred to you that I might be using him?”
He met her gaze. “Are you?”
Yes! But like her laugh, the word got stuck on its way out. Much as she would have liked
to say that she was one hundred percent in control of this little cat and mouse game they were playing, she was not entirely certain that was true.
She was still woefully ignorant of his motives—for being at the office or for getting close to her. The thought that his kisses might be part of some devious plan was too difficult to digest at the moment. She didn’t want to believe it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.
And much as she would have liked to tell herself that she’d been thinking about how best to wheedle information out of him when she invited him to her reunion…she couldn’t lie to herself. Her father and his investigation hadn’t been on her mind at all when she’d asked him out.
And she certainly hadn’t been thinking about her father when he’d kissed her.
Instead of outright lying to her father, she told a partial truth. “You need to focus on resting and getting healthy, Dad. I know what I’m doing.”
He did need to get some rest, he was looking paler than ever despite the fact that his doctor said he was getting better. As for her claim that she knew what she was doing…that remained to be seen.
Hunter’s office in Alphabet City had seen better days. But then, clients like Margaret were few and far between and were always happy to meet at a coffee shop or pub so he had no one to impress.
The simple two-room office with its wilting plants and decades-old coffee maker was only temporary, anyway. As soon as Margaret’s check cleared, he’d pack up his belongings and get out of town for good.
He’d head to Chicago, where one of his police academy buddies was constantly trying to lure him out with promises of a lucrative career as an insurance investigator. Not exactly his dream job, but it would be something new. Something better than this half existence he’d fallen into after the divorce. He might not mind the private eye gigs if he could do it right—pick and choose his cases. But thanks to the divorce, he didn’t have that luxury. And a life spent following cheating husbands and wives was too depressing to contemplate.
He’d had enough of extra-marital affairs in his own life, thank you very much. And every new cheating spouse assignment was just a cruel reminder of how his seemingly perfect life had come to an end.
Insurance fraud didn’t sound much more appealing but at least it would be far away from there. Far from the memories and reminders of not only his ex-wife but the career that he’d loved so much.
To think, he’d had it all less than two years ago—his dream career and the loving wife. They’d even been trying for kids. And now? He looked around his office with a critical eye. Well, now he had a dying credenza and a studio apartment with cockroaches.
Chicago had to be better. That was the nice thing about hitting bottom—once a person got that low, the only place to go was up. He stared sightlessly at the stack of employee files on his desk and let himself daydream about what his new life would be like.
If the insurance gig paid as well as his friend said, he might be able to buy a house in the suburbs. Maybe meet someone new, even, though that was harder to imagine.
A flash of sleek black hair and ruby red lips flashed into his mind’s eye. Dark-haired children with bright blue eyes filled with intelligence and laughter…
He needed to get out of town before he did something stupid. Like fall for a woman who was out of his league and not fit for his life. Jenna would never want the life he was striving for—simple, laid back, uncomplicated. She probably dreamed of meeting some Prince Charming who had the same money, style, and class to which she was clearly accustomed. Best to let that dream go now before he got too invested.
Jenna was a means to an end. He didn’t really think she was a suspect anymore, not after seeing the way she’d been followed the day before. But clearly she was tied to this…whatever this was. Besides, Margaret had ordered him to get close to her. He was just following orders.
Liar.
All right, so maybe he was enjoying himself. But after everything he’d gone through with Lana, he deserved a little flirtation with the hottie in the office. He felt an unfamiliar tug at the corner of his lips at the thought of that kiss in her living room the day before. Smiling was a fairly new phenomenon that seemed to occur whenever she was around. And apparently she felt the chemistry too. So what was the harm in seeing where this led? Just until the case ended, of course.
Then he’d be on his way. Heck, maybe a rebound would do him good. Having a no-strings fling with Jenna could be exactly what he needed to move on once and for all. By the time he got to Chicago, he might even be ready to go on a proper date again.
Maybe.
He’d definitely be ready to start a new life. He’d focus on finding a new relationship once he was settled and had established his career.
But for any of this to happen, he had to get paid by Margaret. And to get paid he had to solve the case, as flimsy as it might be. He dragged his attention back to the files on his desk. He’d told Margaret he was taking a day off from the firm so he could do some background checks and review her personal information to make sure there was nothing fishy going on right underneath his nose.
He half hoped that the personnel files and simple background checks would be a dead giveaway. Maybe someone owed a ton of money or had a criminal record—something that would trigger a red flag and give some sort of motive for corporate espionage, if that was really what was going on.
A few hours later he’d gone through most of the employee files—all of the senior partners and most of the newer associates—and had come up with nothing. He supposed something so obvious would be too easy.
When his phone rang, it was a welcome distraction from the tedious background checks. Even better, it was Eddie Gonzalez, his former partner on the police force. One of several who he still kept in touch with on a regular basis, even though they no longer worked together.
“Man, please tell me you’re not still thinking of getting out of town.”
Eddie had a way of starting conversations as if they were midway through, picking up a topic that they’d talked about weeks before.
“That’s still the plan. Why, you gonna miss me?”
Eddie snorted into the phone. “Please, man. You’ll be the one missing us. You can take the man out of New York…”
“Yeah, yeah.” The last thing Hunter needed was to have anyone second-guessing his decision. He had enough doubts of his own without listening to someone else’s criticisms. “So what’s new? Or did you just miss me already?”
“Nah, I called to see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
Hunter froze in the middle of re-ordering the files. “What does that mean?”
“What are you up to that reporters are calling me to talk about you?”
Reporters? “Eddie, what are you talking about?”
“Mackenzie Rivers, that’s what I’m talking about.”
Mackenzie Rivers. “That name sounds familiar.”
Eddie snorted again. “It should, moron. The chick owns HeatMap.”
HeatMap he knew—most people he knew read the online news site on a regular basis, him included. But that wasn’t how he’d heard the name. Mackenzie Rivers, Mackenzie Rivers… He repeated the name to himself on a loop as it that might jar loose the connection that he was forgetting. Where had he seen that name recently?
Meanwhile, Eddie kept talking. “She stopped in to one of the precincts a few days ago, apparently, and talked to one of the rookies on duty. Asked a few questions about you, but that lady asks questions about everything under the sun so the guy didn’t think much of it.”
Hunter gave a grunt of acknowledgement that he was listening but he was too focused on trying to remember how he knew the name to comment.
“Anyway, the cop mentioned it to me yesterday and I wouldn’t have thought too much about it except that Ramirez told me he got a call from her this morning. She’d called to get some info on that drug ring bust up in Harlem but toward the end of the conversation, your name came
up. Seems she wanted to know what kind of guy you are, what you’re up to these days…blah blah blah.”
His hand tightened around the cell phone. His gut was telling him loud and clear that this was somehow related to his current case, he just had no clue how. “Did she say why she was asking?”
“Yeah, she said she was doing a follow-up piece on Jackson Roberts.” The mention of the thug who’d shot him in the knee during a shootout in an abandoned apartment building was enough to make his leg ache and his gut clench. That man had ruined his life.
“His lawyer is trying to get him out on parole so her story made sense, I guess. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d asked about you earlier in the week before Roberts’ lawyer announced he was going for parole.”
Hunter sat perfectly still as he shifted through the information. “Maybe she had an insider contact at the lawyer’s office.”
“Maybe.” Eddie sounded unconvinced. “But she didn’t ask the cop on duty anything about that case or your injury. She seemed more interested in what type of guy you are. Whether you can be trusted.” His old friend let out a short laugh. “Seriously, dude, from what that young cop told me, it was more like she wanted to set you up on a blind date or something.”
Date. Jenna’s piece of the puzzle clicked into place and he had the context he needed to unlock the memory. He had seen that name, briefly and in passing, when reading about Jenna’s father. Before starting work for Margaret, he’d done an extensive background check into Donald Knight. After all, he was suspect number one. According to Margaret, he’d have the most to gain by spying on her.
Before he got off the phone with Eddie, he asked his former partner to have one of his guys trace the IP address and clear up who was right—the IT department or Spencer. Eddie agreed and Hunter got off the phone quickly, thanking him for the heads up and promising to fill him in soon on why he was suddenly on the radar of HeatMap’s founder and managing editor.
Winning Snow White Page 8
