Cat Got Your Tongue?

by Rae Rivers

  Cole blinked, trying to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. God, he was tired. And so damn grateful she hadn’t been hurt. “Are you okay?” he asked, sensing the tiniest crack in her armor.

  “No. I’ve been shot at twice, decked in the jaw, bowled over several times, cut in the face, and caught in a fire. But worst of all, my partners think I’ve crossed a line by sleeping with you and I know they’re right!”

  Trust her to place her partners’ opinions above her physical safety.

  “Alex.”

  Her frown became more pronounced when he reached for her and she pushed at his chest. “This is all your fault.”

  Even through her anger and wet mess and despite all her war wounds and fiery eyes, she still looked beautiful. He edged toward her again, taking her hands in his.

  “You’re brilliant at your job, Alex. No one doubts you. You’ve saved my life twice since we’ve met. These wounds are proof of how good you are.”

  Alex tilted her head to meet his eyes and exhaled. “The longer we’re together, the harder this’ll become.”

  “I know.”

  “The more involved we are, the more vulnerable you become because there’s no way you’re going to stand back and let me fight your battles for you.”

  “I know.”

  “So what are we doing?”

  “I don’t know.” He drew her into his arms. “We’ll give it a few days until we can figure this out. Then we’ll worry about what to do about us.”

  “Are your paintings okay?” she mumbled into his chest.

  “I don’t care about the paintings, Alex. They’re just paintings and they’re insured.” After years of collecting expensive artwork, it didn’t bother him that he’d almost lost two. He pulled back to look at her, pushing away the range of emotions that had surfaced, and kissed her forehead. “You, on the other hand, are a completely different story.”

  The kitchen door opened and Bradley walked inside, pausing as he saw the embrace. Although he didn’t comment, he shot Alex a questioning look. “The cops want to talk to you now.”

  “No,” Cole said. “We’ve all told them what Alex told us and it’s almost five in the morning. Detective Sullivan can call me later and we can arrange for him to question Alex. It’s enough for one night.”

  Bradley considered his words and nodded in agreement.

  “And please ensure that someone is here for the next couple of hours so that no one else gets in. I don’t want an hourly surveillance. I want a cop parked outside my door on a permanent basis.”

  “Will do.” Bradley disappeared, leaving them in silence.

  “You’re so cool,” Alex breathed.

  Cole smiled and kissed her again. “Go pack a few things. We’re staying at my hotel for the night.”

  Alex’s expression brightened. “Wow. A few hours sleep in a big hotel bed without unwanted intruders, gunshots, or two scowling bodyguards. Sounds like bliss.”

  He laughed. “Mm, life has certainly got interesting the last week.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Friday afternoon

  Cole set a tray of fresh coffee and pastries on the table by the bed and leaned over Alex.

  She was asleep on her stomach, her face concealed beneath mountains of black hair. She looked so delicate, so peaceful—a complete contrast to the fiery woman she was.

  “Hey, slumber queen,” he murmured and pushed aside her hair to kiss her neck. “You going to sleep all day?”

  “Go away,” she mumbled into the pillow. “I’m still tired.”

  “I’ve got fresh coffee. And pastries.”

  Alex lifted her head to peer at him through her mass of curls. “Fresh pastries?”

  “Uh, huh. Made this afternoon.”

  Her eyes widened. “Afternoon? What time is it?”

  “It’s almost four.”

  “What?” she gasped and pushed herself to her knees. Her perky breasts bounced in the movement and with a grin, he reached out to cup one. She slapped his hand away. “What do you mean it’s almost four?”

  “You’ve been asleep the whole day.”

  “No, I haven’t. We were up earlier for breakfast.”

  And while they’d eaten, he’d sorted out the ramifications of the fire the previous day.

  “I can’t believe I fell asleep again.” She looked at the clock next to the bed. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

  “Because you were flat out exhausted. I thought you deserved some shut eye without the world exploding around you.”

  Alex’s face fell as she remembered the events of the previous day. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, taking in his appearance. His hair was still wet from the shower and he wore a fresh shirt and jeans. “You’ve been up a while. What have you been doing all afternoon?”

  “Watching you sleep.” He hadn’t been able to resist.

  “Liar. You were sleeping too.” She reached for his T-shirt at the foot of the bed and tugged it over her head.

  He smiled. “I only woke up an hour ago.”

  “What do you know? Billionaires get exhausted too.”

  He kissed her along her jaw line. “Only since meeting you.”

  “Where are the coffee and the pastries you were bragging about or was that just a ploy to get me out of my slumber?”

  “It was more of a ploy to get you into my bed.”

  “I am in your bed.”

  He flicked at his T-shirt she wore. “I think I prefer you naked though.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen enough of this naked body. I need nourishment. Now. So show me what you got.”

  He chuckled and pushed himself off the bed to pour the coffee that could be smelt throughout the hotel suite. She flashed him a killer smile when he handed her a mug and something inside him shifted.

  God, she’s mesmerizing.

  “Stop doing that,” she said and sipped her coffee.

  “You’re so sexy.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Me too, but for you.” His hand crept under her T-shirt and she slapped at him again.

  “You’re like a horny teenager.”

  “Mm, but with way more stamina.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  He laughed and pushed himself off the bed as the phone started ringing. When he disconnected the call a moment later, she was already on her way to the bathroom. “You might want to shower and get dressed.”

  “I was about to,” she said, shooting him a suspicious frown. “But why?”

  “Detective Sullivan is here.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “You just ruined my day.”

  “Me or Sullivan?”

  “Sullivan. Definitely Sullivan.” She grinned but it was quick to fade. “Is he coming here? To the suite?”

  “He’s on his way up.”

  “That’s sending a pretty obvious message as to the status between us, don’t you think?”

  “You have a problem with that?”

  Alex considered it for a moment and then shrugged. “As long as no one badgers me about it today, it’s fine.” Her expression eased and she smiled. “It might be nice to see Sullivan squirm a little.”

  “Why would he squirm?”

  Alex stripped off her borrowed T-shirt, leaned forward, and kissed him on the lips. “Because I’ve snagged the rich guy and cops are very careful when dealing with rich guys.”

  Cole laughed and slid his arms around her waist. “So sleeping with a billionaire has some advantages?”

  “Oodles.” She kissed him again and disappeared into the shower. She paused briefly to examine the neatly stitched gash on her hip before stepping under the water.

  Cole eyed the wound through the glass door. It had healed well and seemed to bother her less but still served as a constant reminder of who she was and what she’d done for him. “You should know that the office called while you were sleeping
and I have a meeting in California tomorrow.”

  “Your empire not large enough?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I swear you buy hotels just for the fun of it.”

  “Probably.”

  “You’ve got too much money.”

  “And I happen to like that fact.”

  She chuckled and started washing her hair. “I’m surprised you’re in such a good mood considering someone set fire to your living room last night.”

  “I’m still furious, but moping around isn’t my style. I don’t doubt for a second we’ll catch whoever’s responsible.” He was a man who always expected results and always got them, no matter what the cost. This was no different. “Sullivan’s here. Join us when you’re ready.”

  When Alex joined them in the living room fifteen minutes later, Sullivan had masked his surprise at seeing that she shared Cole’s suite and was far more fastidious over his choice of words and his attitude toward her.

  She told Sullivan what had happened the night before and Cole tried not to flinch when she described the shooting.

  “Multiple B and E’s in one week,” Sullivan said with a frown. “Are you staying here for a few days?”

  Cole shrugged. “We haven’t discussed it yet.”

  “Is there anyone at home?”

  “Only the daytime staff. I’ve told Charles and Warren to move here for a few days until things cool off.”

  The detective nodded and shifted his eyes to Alex. “I heard you have a guard starting on duty tonight?”

  “He starts at eight every evening and works a twelve hour shift. Are your rookies still at the front door?”

  “For now. I’ll keep them there for the rest of the day and then resume the hourly drive-by when your guard gets there at eight.” Sullivan pulled at the tie around his plump neck. “Why did you call your guys and not us?”

  “Because I knew my guys would have my back.”

  “And we wouldn’t?”

  “I trust mine more. Besides, the alarm company would’ve sent out a patrol car anyway. I knew it wouldn’t be long until you arrived.”

  “What’s with the paintings you pulled off the wall?”

  Alex shifted in her seat, scowling at the memory of the fire blazing so close to the paintings. “I couldn’t leave them behind. They might be insured, but they’re irreplaceable.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. Her tone was sincere, her love for ancient art apparent in her expression. Her knowledge of art history had been born out of a genuine love and passion for it more than from frequent exposure through her mother.

  “Makes sense,” Sullivan said with a brief nod. “And you shot the perp?”

  “In the shoulder.”

  “You sure about this?”

  “I seldom miss. And I saw him holding his shoulder as he ran away.”

  “Who shot first?”

  “He did.”

  “How many shots?”

  “One each. Then he jumped out the window.”

  “He just jumped?”

  “He did indeed.”

  Sullivan raised a suspicious brow. “He wasn’t thrown?”

  Alex grinned. “No.”

  Cole watched them in fascination, impressed with the way Alex handled the detective. They seemed to have developed a relationship based on a combination of dislike and respect for one another and he couldn’t determine which one prevailed.

  “You got a take on this?” Sullivan asked Alex, just as he had the previous day.

  “A very raw one.”

  “Which is?”

  “That somehow this is all linked.”

  Sullivan shut his notebook, looking doubtful. “Seems a bit all over the place to be linked. How does the fire tie in with the Renoir, the Monet, and Mike Willis’s death?”

  “Two paintings, one murder, and another shot at a second murder,” Alex said. “What’s all over the place?”

  He pulled out his notebook again. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  “I’m seldom wrong, detective.”

  He shot her a scowl. “What’s the connection between Cole and Mike and why are they the marks?”

  “Perhaps it’s not us that have been marked,” Cole said. “Maybe the connection is the paintings as Alex mentioned previously. Mike and I could simply be in the way as owners of those paintings.”

  “Could be.”

  Alex frowned. “I know this is about the art but I can’t figure out how it all ties together.”

  “You said you want to follow the trail of the paintings before they were auctioned off. Let’s start with that,” Cole suggested and she nodded in agreement.

  Detective Sullivan scribbled in his notebook, his eyes drawn together in a troubled frown.

  “It’ll be interesting to see if others get nabbed over the next few weeks,” Alex said.

  A spark of interest had Sullivan arching a hairy eyebrow, and he looked up, back to his old tricks. “You know of something going down?”

  “As if I’d tell you,” Alex retorted, back to hers.

  Cole chuckled and rose, indicating the end of the discussion. Every day, he became more and more enchanted with this sassy woman.

  His woman.

  Alex stood and gave a graceful stretch. She wore a black blouse and pants, almost looking like a cat burglar herself, and Cole smiled at the thought.

  “Any more questions, detective?” she asked Sullivan.

  Sullivan shook his head and slipped his notebook in his pocket. “Not for now. Don’t run too far in case I have a few more.”

  “Look for the billionaire and you’ll find me.”

  Cole’s lips curved into a slight grin, pleased with her reply. Not allowing himself to question why, he shook hands with the detective and watched as Alex walked him out.

  “Does the billionaire know your mother’s a suspected art thief?” Sullivan asked Alex, his voice intentionally loud enough so Cole could hear.

  Alex hid her relief that he did know. “He does indeed, detective.”

  “Seems risky having an art thief’s daughter so close to all that art of his.”

  “Bite me, detective.”

  “Just an observation.”

  “You still owe me some donuts,” she added as she opened the door.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll get your donuts when I solve this case.”

  “If you solve this case, it’ll be because of me and you’ll owe me a hell of a lot more than a box of donuts.”

  “You’re full of shit, Alex.”

  “And you’re an ass, detective.”

  He sent Cole a brief nod before stepping out into the hallway.

  Alex shut the door with a sigh and leaned against it, her hands behind her back.

  “Why do you antagonize him so?” Cole asked with a grin. Her relief at the detective’s departure was obvious.

  She pushed herself away from the door. “He brings out the worst in me.”

  “I don’t think he finds his visits with you all sunshine and roses either.”

  “He’s okay, I guess. I’m just uncomfortable around cops in general. Must be something I inherited from my mother.”

  “Where is she?” Cole asked, realizing she’d never told him.

  Uneasiness clouded her expression. “Aren’t you going to the office today?”

  “Deflection won’t work on me, Alex.”

  “It was a simple question.”

  “I called in sick.”

  She walked to where he sat in the corner of the room. “Billionaires actually do that?”

  “We do.”

  “Who writes your sick notes?”

  “Billionaires don’t need sick notes.”

  “Cool.” She smiled and slid onto his lap, placing one leg on either side of his, and nibbled his chin. “Won’t they know it’s a sham though?”

  Her kisses sent a message straight between his legs and he hardened in response. “What’s a sham?”

  “The fact that
you aren’t sick, but holed up here with me? It is your hotel and by now, every bootlicker working here knows you have a gorgeous woman ensnared in your suite. They don’t have to be smart to figure out someone’s playing hooky.”

  Cole chuckled, tilted her chin, and settled his mouth on hers. The kiss was sweet and gentle but held all the elements of the heat that sparked between them. Cole groaned when she ran her hands down his torso to the bulge in his pants.

  Another attempt at deflection, no doubt. But he saw right through her. Clearly, she didn’t want to discuss her mother. “Alex, I’m onto you, you know.”

  “I’d rather have you in me.”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass. I know what you’re doing.” He slid his hands under her blouse and worked on the clasp of her bra.

  “Trying to lure you into my panties again?”

  He grinned and covered her breast with his hand as the clasp of her bra fell free. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her blouse. “Honey, I’ve been trying to get into your panties all day.”

  Alex threw her head back and laughed, the feminine sound reverberating across the room. “So how about we get the show on the road?”

  He lost patience with her buttons and yanked at the material, popping the last three buttons with ease. He leaned forward to kiss her and pushed the bra and blouse off her shoulders. Her breasts were perky, her nipples erect, and he slid his hands over each breast, her skin smooth and flawless. Oh, God.

  “You’re going to have to buy me some new clothes when you’re done with me,” she breathed as his mouth caught her nipple.

  “I’ll buy you an entire closet full, and I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friday, midnight

  Alex slipped into the dark cinema unnoticed and took a seat in the back row. As it was midnight, the huge room was almost empty, except for three couples seated further down watching the end of the movie. Alex glanced at the tearful scene on the screen ahead of her and frowned.

  Great. Eddie had chosen a damn chick flick. And he’d probably done it on purpose to mock her.

  She rolled her eyes as she saw a woman several rows ahead of her wiping her eyes with a tissue.