Secrets of a Playboy

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Secrets of a Playboy Page 14

by Janice Maynard


  And since Zach and Frannie had still been awake at three, maybe even later, they, too, were sleep deprived. But there were piles of dirty dishes to deal with as well as stowing all the leftovers.

  When no one moved immediately, Frannie spoke up. “I hate to introduce business in the middle of such a lovely occasion, but I wanted to let you know that I may have found something important. If I work some more this weekend, and if my suspicions are correct, I could possibly have it nailed down by Monday.”

  It was Farrell who frowned. “I don’t like that, Frannie. Holidays are for family and kicking back.”

  Zach felt suddenly protective of Frannie. “Her parents weren’t available this weekend. That’s why I invited her here. But I agree with my brother. You shouldn’t be doing SRO work these next few days, Frannie.”

  She seemed taken aback. Perhaps she wasn’t accustomed to having her schedule questioned. “Well, then,” Frannie said, “is there any chance the three Stone brothers might be free Wednesday afternoon to sit down with me? I’d like to go over my preliminary findings with you. Let you know what’s unfolding.”

  Quin leaned forward. “Can you at least tell us which employee has kicked up warning flags? Perhaps we can help.”

  “Um...” Frannie hesitated. “I don’t like making accusations until I’m sure.”

  Quin nodded. “Understood. We’ll keep this under wraps. No judgment.”

  “Okay. If you must know, it looks like Edward Cordell may be at the heart of your troubles.”

  Zachary shook his head. “Impossible,” he said flatly. “Edward and my father were best friends. Edward has worked for SRO over thirty-five years. You’ve made a mistake.”

  The room went dead silent. Zachary realized that his rebuttal had perhaps been harsher than he intended.

  Frannie was pale, her eyes downcast. The other four adults at the table showed varying degrees of concern and discomfort.

  Zachary stood up. “It’s impossible,” he insisted. “Edward taught me how to paddle a canoe. He got Quin interested in skiing. At Farrell’s first wedding, Edward gave one of the toasts. You’re wrong, Frannie, you have to be.”

  Katie began stacking dishes, and the uncomfortable moment passed. Zachary assembled a pile, as well. “Let’s get this done. Football awaits.”

  * * *

  Frannie was embarrassed and angry. Clearly Zachary had no regard for her capabilities as a professional. He had dismissed her premise as if she were a stupid child. His careless arrogance hurt, not only because she thought they had been growing closer, but most of all, because it meant he didn’t trust her.

  When the men eventually drifted toward the den, Frannie quietly pulled Katie aside. “Thank you so much for including me today. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m getting a migraine, and I’ve summoned a ride to take me back to the hotel.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Katie said. “Can I box up some leftovers for your dinner?”

  “Thanks, but no need. Room service is great. I don’t want a fuss. Will you make my excuses when the time is right? My car will be here in a moment.”

  Katie nodded, but she seemed troubled, perhaps reading the real cause of Frannie’s precipitous flight.

  As Frannie stepped back into the kitchen, she ran into Zachary. He steadied her with two hands on her shoulders. “What car?” he asked, frowning.

  “I have a headache. I’m going back to the hotel.”

  “I’ll take you. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Zachary!” Katie said, giving him a chiding look. “It’s Frannie’s decision. Quit being so rude.”

  Frannie summoned a smile, hiding her emotional distress. “You stay and spend time with your family, Zach. I’ll be fine. It was a lovely meal.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  He said nothing about meeting her later. His expression was shuttered, in fact, shutting her out. Once again, Frannie found herself standing on the outside, looking in.

  * * *

  At the hotel, Frannie put her cell on Do Not Disturb and did the same with the hotel phone on the bedside table. Her pretend migraine had become the real thing.

  She slept for five straight hours. When she awoke, it was dark outside. This wasn’t the worst Thanksgiving she’d ever had, but it wasn’t the best, either.

  The noon meal had been so huge she wasn’t even hungry. Besides, she didn’t want to give Zachary any way to infiltrate her fortress of silence, and ordering room service would do just that.

  She had twenty-two texts on her phone, each one more frustrated than the last.

  Well, that was just too damn bad. She didn’t want to see Zachary Stone, she didn’t want to talk to him and most of all, she didn’t want to have sex with him.

  The man was a master at getting his way. It was better not to give him a single opportunity to test her willpower.

  Eventually, the texts stopped. She told herself she was glad.

  One of the movie channels was airing a Christmas classic. Frannie took a couple of aspirin, curled up in the big bed and indulged in a bout of self-pity. Maybe she should never have accepted this job knowing she would see Zachary again.

  She was weak where he was concerned. Thirteen or thirty, the age didn’t matter. She’d always had a thing for him.

  The worst blow of all was admitting to herself that she was maybe, probably, falling in love with him.

  Hearts didn’t really break. She’d made an A in college anatomy, so she knew that the organ in her chest was stronger than it seemed at the moment.

  There were some things, though, that textbooks couldn’t predict or explain. Frances Wickersham wanted Zachary Stone because he was the one person capable of understanding and loving her exactly as she was.

  The only problem? He didn’t care. To him, Frannie was a fun time in bed, a pleasant stroll down memory lane.

  He wasn’t in love with her, and after today, she realized that he never would be.

  When she awoke the next morning, her headache was gone. Her heartache still pained her. She remembered Stanley saying that Quin had given him the weekend off. A random guard would be filling in. Though the man had probably been briefed, he surely wouldn’t have agreed to report back to Zachary.

  Frannie decided to take her chances. She wasn’t a fan of hunting down Black Friday bargains, and she was tired of sitting in her hotel room. Because headquarters was closed for the long weekend, there was no real reason to wait until the evening.

  The skies were sunny, and the temperature had climbed into the upper forties, so she decided to walk. The streets were filled with holiday shoppers. City employees were out in force decorating streetlamps and hanging wreaths.

  It was a beautiful, festive day. Frannie’s mood was glum. She had been perfectly happy with her life until she came to Portland. Well, maybe she had occasionally been lonely, but she knew how to chase the blues away. Her world had been filled with work and occasionally an outing with acquaintances. She had long ago decided that romance was overrated.

  And then she reconnected with Zach.

  Gorgeous, hardheaded, brilliant, contrary Zachary Stone. The man who wanted to know everything about her, and then didn’t share anything of his personal dreams. Didn’t even bother to tell her he had written a book.

  The man who told her all the time how smart she was, and then when it really mattered, dismissed two weeks of her complicated work with a vehement denial of her conclusions.

  He didn’t believe her about Edward Cordell. His words still stung.

  When she reached the SRO building, she used her key card to let herself in. The offices were quiet and empty. She hadn’t finished analyzing every computer in the building, but since she had stumbled upon what appeared to be a significant lead in her investigation, she would start there again.

  If the trail led nowhere, she would be more than ha
ppy to admit that Zach was right. Unfortunately, Frannie was afraid the Stone siblings were in for a big shock.

  She settled into her chair and got to work. One thing she loved about her chosen career was how much it engaged her brain. She was never bored, and she never tired of the thrill of making a significant discovery for her clients.

  Eventually, an alarm on her phone reminded her to stop for a break. She had snitched an apple and a yogurt from the hotel breakfast buffet. That was all the lunch she needed. Afterward, she did some yoga stretches and a few laps around the hallways.

  The afternoon sped by. The deeper she dived into Edward Cordell’s digital life, the more she found. A disturbing narrative was unfolding, and much of it involved the Stone family. Somehow, she had to find a way to convince Zachary that his blind loyalty was misplaced. It wouldn’t be easy.

  By five o’clock, she was ready to call it quits. She shut down the computer and carefully restored Edward’s work space to the way she had found it.

  After the barrage of texts yesterday afternoon and evening, she hadn’t heard a word all day from Zachary. It was silly to let his silence hurt her feelings. She had been avoiding him, but she wanted him to at least have made an effort for more than one day.

  On the other hand, she hadn’t been very amenable. Locking herself in her room and shutting off the outside world was no way to build a relationship. She and Zach were both stubborn in their own way. At Glenderry they had argued often. Eventually, their friendship always won out. Their bond back then was strong.

  Did it still exist intact? And was it flexible enough to weather the storm that was about to come?

  She picked up her coat and bag and shut off the lights. When she turned to leave, Zachary stood in the doorway. She put a hand to her chest. “Why do you have to do that? At least text me a heads-up when you’re going to sneak into your own building.”

  His expression was grim. “I didn’t think you answered texts from me.”

  Touché. “You hurt my feelings yesterday, Zach. I was feeling a little raw and not inclined to talk to you.”

  The planes and angles in his face softened. “I’m sorry. But I still think you’re following a rabbit trail. Edward wouldn’t hurt us.”

  She counted to ten and changed the subject. “Why are you here now?”

  He shrugged. “I thought we could go out to dinner.”

  And there it was again. The temptation. How far could she go with this thing and still be able to walk away?

  “The restaurants will be crowded tonight. I think I’ll crash early.”

  “Boring, Bug. We can do better than that.” He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips. When he kissed each finger and nibbled her pinkie, she knew she was lost.

  “Zach...”

  He lifted his head. “What?”

  “If I locate the source of SRO’s problems, I’ll be gone sooner than later. I don’t know if I want to get more involved.”

  He cupped her cheek, his gaze intent. “We’re already involved, Frannie.”

  “And what happens when it’s time for me to go?” That was about as clear as she could get other than asking flat out if this thing between them was sex for the sake of sex and nothing more. It was difficult to be coherent with him teasing her nipple.

  His chin was scruffy, and his gaze was sleepy eyed. He gave her a slow smile. “I’m a big believer in carpe diem and forging my own path. We don’t have to worry about the future, do we? It usually takes care of itself.”

  Her heart sank. She was a planner. In every phase of her life. To be reckless with Zach was a huge risk. But the alternative was no Zach at all.

  “Fair enough,” she said calmly, not wanting him to see her turmoil.

  “What’s your favorite kind of meal? Thai? French? Seafood?”

  She could definitely eat her feelings right about now, healthy or not. “Italian?” she asked hopefully.

  “Whatever the lady wants.”

  He had parked a fancy SUV at the curb in a loading zone. Frannie put her things in the back seat and climbed in.

  “It’s not far,” Zachary said. “But it’s not downtown.”

  The fifteen-minute drive was pleasant. That wasn’t a word Frannie would normally have used to describe anything about Zach. It was too bland. But today it fit. The interior of the car was toasty warm. Zachary’s big hands on the wheel were confident. If she ignored the future, this was an evening she could enjoy.

  At the restaurant, several employees greeted Zachary by name. Which meant Frannie couldn’t help wondering how many women he had wined and dined here. The table where the hostess seated them was one of the nicest...close to the fireplace and far from the noise of the kitchen.

  After they ordered, an awkward silence fell. If they couldn’t talk about her investigation, what else did they have? Zachary’s body language wasn’t encouraging.

  “I like all of your family,” she said finally. “Your sisters-in-law seem perfect for your two brothers.”

  Zach relaxed visibly. “They are perfect. Katie smooths out some of Quinten’s intensity. Farrell and Ivy both lost spouses, so this marriage is a new start for each of them.”

  “Is the baby Farrell’s?”

  “No. But he’s in the process of adopting her. They’re hoping to have the papers finalized before the wedding.”

  “How lovely.”

  The waiter brought their wine and a basket of garlic knots. Zachary shoved the bread in Frannie’s direction. “We’ll both eat some,” he said. “So it won’t matter later.”

  His wicked smile made her choke on her wine. Zachary just laughed.

  The food arrived, and for half an hour, an unspoken truce kept the conversation mellow and agreeable. Over pumpkin-filled ravioli for Frannie and lasagna for Zachary, they talked books and movies and politics.

  They both loved Star Wars. That hadn’t changed since high school. Zachary told her about a few of his more exotic adventures around the world. Frannie shared stories from her work that weren’t classified.

  By the time dessert came, Frannie was stuffed. Fortunately, Zachary had ordered one to share. He offered her a bite. “Apple cobbler with cinnamon pecans.”

  “Mmm. Decadent.” The smell alone was enough to make her gain ten pounds. But she couldn’t resist when Zach held out his spoon and offered her a bite.

  When the bowl was empty, he leaned back in his chair. “I would like us to spend the night together.”

  She blinked, trying to behave as if this type of thing happened to her all the time. “I’d like that, too,” she said softly, knowing she had made up her mind. As much as it hurt, she loved him. She would enjoy Zach, even if the time was short. It was what she wanted. Call it a last hurrah. Or maybe closure. It was the only choice she could make. “Your place or mine?” she asked.

  “The hotel is closer.”

  She could swear a tiny flame burned in his beautiful eyes.

  Zach paid the check, and they drove back into town. When Zach reached out and took her hand, she curled her fingers around his, feeling torn in a million directions. When she was with him, everything seemed brighter, more interesting. She was a confident, independent woman. That didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the manner in which he took charge and made her comfortable in a dozen small ways.

  Everyone on the hotel staff knew her now. And this time, it wasn’t the middle of the night when she and Zach made their way across the lobby. He was undoubtedly a recognizable figure also. What did the desk clerks think? The concierge?

  The truth was, no one cared what Frannie did. If she was Zach’s temporary fling, the only person impacted was Frannie herself. That meant the consequences were hers and hers alone. She was making a choice to walk on the wild side. Playboys liked to play. Apparently, Frannie did, too—when it came to Zach.

  They were the onl
y people in the elevator. When the door closed, Zach turned to her and groaned, slamming his mouth down on hers, gripping her hips hard enough to leave a bruise. “You’re driving me crazy, Frannie.”

  “Ditto,” she gasped.

  On her floor, they barely made it out of the elevator and inside her room before he was kissing her again, ripping at her clothes and muttering indecipherable words that echoed their mutual urgency.

  She realized in an instant that he’d been on a slow burn the entire evening. While Frannie had been trying to decide the future, Zachary had been focused on the here and now. Perhaps his way was better after all.

  He lifted her off her feet, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck. She gasped when he struggled but succeeded in dragging her panties down her legs and tossing the scrap of nylon aside. Then he raked his arm across the low built-in desk and set her down gently on the edge. Only the flat-screen TV remained on the attached, taller dresser. Everything else was scattered on the floor.

  Frannie wore black leather boots and a gray knit midi skirt. Her top was a black-and-gray cable-knit sweater that buttoned up the front. Zachary shimmied her skirt up to her hips and unzipped his fly. He paused only long enough to deal with a condom before grabbing her ass and pulling her toward him.

  When he shoved inside her, Frannie moaned. He was wicked and inventive and totally focused on her. His body was hot to the touch. She wanted to unbutton his shirt, but Zach was a wild man.

  His jaw was granite. He kissed her in between thrusts. “You drive me insane, Bug. What am I going to do about you?”

  In his panted question she sensed a confusion that mirrored her own struggles. Maybe this really was different for Zach.

  His urgency fed hers. She felt her orgasm hovering near. Leaning backward on her hands, she taunted him. “Is that all you’ve got? Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

  When she came, her head arched back and hit the wall. The minor discomfort never registered. Her body shuddered, reaching for the last bits of pleasure.

 

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