“I have so much more to show you, Carrie,” he murmured. “If you enjoyed that, just wait.”
“When did you start doing this kind of thing?” she asked. “You never did this when we were together before.”
“None of that matters now.” Jace’s thoughts darkened, and he glanced at the sky outside. It was still gray despite the late hour, and he needed to get moving. “What matters is that you’re here and that you have never been more sexy than in this moment. Stay here. I have a breakfast tray being sent up for you, and I’ll leave my keycard if you need to go out for anything. When I get back, be ready for me.”
Carrie gave him a smile and rubbed his cock through his pants. He sucked in a sharp breath, immediately feeling his length harden under her touch. “Something to keep in mind while you’re busy with work. I wouldn’t want you to forget what you’re coming home to.”
“Oh, trust me,” he said, almost in a growl. “I won’t forget.”
Franklin was waiting for Jace in the lobby of The Grand Rizzato. He wore as polished a suit as Jace did, which hid his muscular frame very well. Looking at him now, it was impossible to connect him to the man he used to be, which was exactly what was needed. Franklin gave Jace a nod when he joined him next to the revolving doors leading outside into the cold Manhattan morning.
“I assume you have everything you need,” Jace said.
His assistant nodded and patted his front jacket pocket. Jace knew what he had hidden underneath, and it left him feeling uneasy, but he knew they might need it if they were going to complete today’s unsavory task unscathed.
The two of them stepped out into the wintry air and slid into the limo idling on the corner. Jace lifted his coffee to his lips just as the limo angled away from the curb to lead them to their destination.
“I didn’t get the chance to speak to you about the tapes before the police showed up with their warrant. Is there any chance they’ll notice it’s been tampered with?”
“No, sir.” Franklin unbuttoned his suit jacket and settled into the black leather seat. “I was careful to swap out the footage with filming from several nights before. There should be no reason for them to realize it’s been spliced.”
“Good.” Jace nodded and took another sip of the smooth coffee. It was dark and rich and expensive, just the way he liked all things. “Because if there are any issues, you’ll be in as much trouble as me.”
“Yes sir.” Franklin glanced out the window, watching the limo speed down the blocks. Jace had lied to Carrie, of course. He wasn’t going into his office, though this trip definitely had something to do with business. It just turned out that his business would take him all the way to Atlantic City. Jace wasn’t looking forward to returning to that place, but Franklin had followed Madison’s killer back to the familiar casino where Jace had spent a large amount of his time after Carrie had left him three years before.
Jace knew the man who had shot Madison very well, and it was becoming clear that if he wanted to move on from his past, he needed to take matters into his own hands. Jace was on his way to confront the man who had framed him for murder. And he’d do whatever it took to put an end to things.
Carrie yawned and stretched, letting the luxurious sheets slip across her body. The scent of Jace still hung in the air—his musky aftershave and a hint of gin. He’d opened the panels covering his floor-to-ceiling windows before he’d left, giving her a full view of the gray-studded sky and the sleek curves of the Manhattan skyline.
Carrie smiled when she heard a knock on the penthouse door. She jumped out of bed and wrapped the silky sheet around her shoulders, padding barefoot to let in the breakfast Jace had ordered up for her. She couldn’t believe how light and airy she felt, as if nothing in the world could go wrong. When she opened the door, the concierge wheeled in a tray full of fruit, eggs, toast, and freshly-brewed coffee. The heady scent tickled her nose, and she was suddenly struck by how hungry she was. Last night had really taken it out of her, in the best way possible, and now she was famished from her expended energy.
Just before he turned to leave, the concierge dropped a newspaper on the table. “I’m sorry, Miss Simmons, but I thought you might want to see what’s on the front page of the Gossip section.”
He left her with her food and a growing sense of dread. Carrie flipped over the paper. That same familiar photo glared back at her, only this time it was accompanied by a headline that made her mouth dry.
Playboy Jace Holt Canoodles with Madison Avenue Attorney!
They didn’t name her, which meant they didn’t know who she was—yet. If they did, they would have been all over it in a heartbeat. Carrie threw the paper down on the table, suddenly no longer hungry. If they’d made the connection to her job, it wouldn’t be long before someone would put two and two together and figure out it was Carrie in that photo.
Sighing, she pushed away from the table to stare out the windows, conflicted emotions running through her. There was nothing she could do about that photo now, but surely there would be more. The longer she and Jace did whatever it was they were doing, the more likely they were going to get caught by someone who wanted to cause them harm. The fact someone had attempted to frame him was a sure sign of that.
As much as she wanted him—needed him even—her job and her reputation mattered to her, more than anything else in the world. More than anything else but Jace. With a sigh, she spun toward the bathroom to take a shower and change into a clean pair of clothes. She couldn’t stay here all day and do nothing but wait for Jace’s return. She had work to do herself. If she didn’t get caught up, she wouldn’t even have a job to lose if the truth of their relationship got out.
After Carrie had taken a long and hot shower, she slid back into her clothes and dried her hair. Her eyes flicked to the closet where she and Jace had spent exquisite moments the night before. She still couldn’t believe how much she’d enjoyed being punished, and she had to admit she was curious about what else he had in store. A moment later, she found herself lifting his keycard from the bedside table.
She knew she shouldn’t take a peek. He would want her to experience his new techniques without being spoiled by what he had waiting. She knew him well enough to be certain of that. Of course, she thought with a smile, maybe he’d decide peeking was worthy of some extra punishment…
Carrie slid the keycard against the lock and stepped inside the closet. The chains dangled from the ceiling, appearing less sensual now that she was alone. She twirled her finger around one, the slick binds cool against her hand. Memories of the night before ran through her mind, and her lips split into a smile. The way he’d teased her with that whip had almost been too much for her to bear.
Carrie took a long gaze around the closet, curious about what else she might find. Most of the large space was filled with identical dark suits, sleek shoes, and pristine ties. She let her fingers graze along the material, remembering the feel of the blindfold on her cheek. Surely there were other toys hidden in this space. He’d said there was more to come, and there wasn’t anywhere else she could imagine him storing such intimate things.
Her eyes landed on a sleek black box tucked in a corner underneath his shoes. That must be it. She dropped to her knees and slid it from its place, prying open the lid as her heartbeat began to thrum in her neck. The lid dropped back, and her stomach sunk. This box had nothing to do with sex. All that was inside was a passport.
Carrie flipped open the document and frowned when she saw the image on the page. It was a man that looked vaguely familiar, someone named Garrett Butler. Something about him rang a bell, but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard the name before. Sighing, she dropped the passport inside and pushed the box back in its place.
Wherever Jace kept his toys, it wasn’t here.
Just as she shut the closet door behind her, the name on the passport sparked back up in her mind. Her heartbeat quickened, and her mouth went dry. She remembered where she’d heard the name and where s
he’d seen that face. Rushing back inside the closet, Carrie ripped open the box and checked the photo on the passport again.
It was him. Franklin Snow. He’d had his nose changed and his hair buzzed off. But the name on the passport belonged to a man she’d only heard about on the news. A fugitive on the run. A contract killer.
Franklin Snow wasn’t who he said he was. And Jace knew.
Jace Holt strode into the lobby of The Grand Rizzato with a confident swagger that made all the women in the room turn his way. He gave them a polite and charming smile before turning to his assistant, Franklin Snow, whose eyes were rimmed with dark circles. It had taken the full day to get to Atlantic City and back, but at least they’d ruled out one important thing. Jace’s past was not coming back to haunt him after all. And neither was Franklin’s.
“You may go home now, Franklin,” Jace said with a nod. “However, do feel free to stay in one of the executive suites here for the night if you wish. I always keep a few available for special guests.”
Franklin’s lips thinned into a straight line. “I’m sorry, sir, about being wrong. I could have sworn the man I saw looked like Preston Marks.”
Jace and Franklin had confronted Jace’s old nemesis, Preston Marks, the owner of the Raging Fire Casino in Atlantic City. Franklin had sworn Preston had been the man he’d seen at Madison’s apartment that night, but he’d been wrong. Preston had been at a special casino gala the night of the murder, and he had video footage and hundreds of alibis to prove it.
“It’s better that you were wrong,” Jace said, sliding his hands into his suit pockets. “The past and the present can stay separate, which is for the best.”
Franklin frowned. “This means we have no leads at all.”
Jace sighed and glanced around his glittering lobby, a living and breathing display of everything he’d accomplished in only a few short years. Someone was trying to take this all away from him, and he had no idea who it was. While he was relieved it had nothing to do with that year spent getting lost in the gambling lifestyle of Atlantic City, it angered him to know that the true culprit had so easily escaped out from under his nose. Jace had to find the man responsible and put a stop to this once and for all.
“Did you keep a copy of the actual security footage from the night Anders Holland showed up on my kitchen floor?” Jace asked, flicking his eyes around him to make sure none of his guests could overhear their conversation.
Franklin gave a quick nod. “Yes, I still have the original.”
“Good.” Jace patted his assistant on the back. Always dependable. “That’s all we have. We’ll have to review it again and see if we can identify the man who posed as me that night.”
“He does look like you, sir.”
“Yes.” Jace frowned and thought back to the footage. “A man who was trying to look like me but failed to understand the importance of a suit jacket’s sleeve length. That should have been our first clue it wasn’t Preston Marks. He’d never wear an non-tailored suit.”
“Someone without money, then,” Franklin said.
“Or new to money. Another real estate competitor, perhaps,” Jace replied. “That might explain why he’s trying to ruin me and why he was willing to get rid of Anders Holland in order to do it. Anders would be another competitor of his.”
“I’ll draft up a list of your competitors and highlight those who are newer on the scene,” Franklin said. “I’ll have it on your desk early next week.”
“Thank you, Franklin.” Jace gave his assistant a rare smile. “But do be sure to get some sleep. You’ve done enough for one day.”
Jace bid Franklin a good night and made his way to the front desk to request two wine glasses and a bottle of red. Carrie would be waiting upstairs for him in his bed, preferably naked. He would bend her over and push his cock inside of hers, and he’d smile as she moaned while rocking against his length. The thought of her was the only thing that had gotten him through his day. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed visiting his old demons, but he’d done it so he could get back to her as soon as he could.
Those old demons didn’t matter anymore, and there was no threat of them coming back to haunt him now. Carrie would never have to know about his gambling. Whoever was framing him now had no part to play in his past. There would be no need to tell Carrie what he had done and who Franklin Snow really was. They could be together—albeit secretly—and enjoy the pleasures of each other’s bodies without anything or anyone to stop them.
Jace reached his penthouse and swiped his keycard against the lock before stepping into darkness. The only illumination came from the city lights shining through his floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming against the slick black walls. Frowning, Jace shut the door behind him and glanced around. There was no sign of Carrie anywhere.
Surely she hadn’t left after the night and morning they’d just had. It was Saturday. She wouldn’t have needed to go into work, and she’d promised she’d be here waiting for him when he returned from business.
“Carrie,” he called out, setting the wine bottle on his kitchen island. “If you’re playing some hide and seek game with me, you’re going to get punished.”
His cock hardened at the thought. She’d been so excited and pleasured by his punishment that he knew she’d try to tempt him into doing it again. Perhaps she was even in his walk-in closet, waiting for him to chain her up and take the whip to her gorgeous ass.
Smiling, he set the wine glasses down next to the bottle and slid his jacket from his shoulders. He strode toward the bedroom with purposeful steps and clenched his hands by his sides. He couldn’t wait to take control of every inch of her body and show her exactly who was in command.
When he stepped into the bedroom, only darkness met his eyes. No Carrie. The bed had been made, and the coffee mug he’d brought her that morning had been tidied away. Jace’s eyes landed on something small and square sitting on the bed next to a slip of white paper. Had she left him some sort of clue to lead him to her hiding place?
Jace stepped closer to the bed, and his heart squeezed. He tried to control his breathing as he snatched the slip of paper from the empty bed. He saw now what the object was. It was Franklin’s old passport. The one showing who he once was. Carrie had found it. She knew.
On the slip of paper, she’d only written two words, and they were the worst two words Jace could have imagined. He wouldn’t let her do this. Not now. Not ever.
We’re over.
Carrie stood in her tiny Manhattan apartment and tipped back the cheap and bitter wine. It slid down her throat, warming her belly and blurring her mind. Unlike Jace, Carrie couldn’t afford one hundred dollar bottles anytime she got hit with the need for a little alcohol to calm her nerves. Jace. Her hand tightened around the glass. He was the entire reason for her jittery nerves in the first place.
Carrie dropped the glass on the marble counter and poured more wine for herself. She wasn’t usually the kind of girl to drink more than a glass alone, but this wasn’t a normal night. Her cat, Coco, edged into the kitchen and meowed up at her.
“Cheers, Coco.” Carrie lifted the glass toward her cat and took big gulp before letting out a sigh. “Here’s to men who are liars.”
She padded out of her kitchen in bare feet and eased onto her couch, glancing out of her tiny living room window to watch the snow piling up on the sidewalks below. It reminded her of that night she’d stopped by Madison’s fake apartment and been attacked by the man on the street.
Had that actually been Franklin Snow after all? It certainly added up. She just didn’t understand why Jace would have allowed him to do such a thing, to Carrie of all people. There’s just no way he would have.
Carrie thought back to how Jace had picked her up off the street and carried her to the safety of his penthouse. She’d woken up in his arms, open and eager for his body after all their time spent apart. Gritting her teeth, she glared out at the wintry night. If she’d only known what he’d been hiding, she never wou
ld have gotten involved with him in the first place. She never would have pulled her shirt over her head and climbed on top of him, practically begging for him to be inside of her.
And Jace must have known that she’d never be with him if she knew the truth he’d been hiding. She bet it was the whole reason he’d kept the information to himself.
Carrie sighed and blinked away the tears, turning to give her cat a scratch on the neck. There was so much about their lives that could have kept them from being together. Their parents’ marriage. Her job. The paparazzi intent on revealing Jace’s every secret. The dead body that had appeared on his kitchen floor. But the thing that had finally torn them apart once and for all was something Carrie had never seen coming. Jace had hidden a massive secret from her. He’d known Franklin Snow was a contract killer on the run from the law, and yet he’d hidden his identity and hired him as his assistant. There was no world in which Carrie could understand why he’d do that.
Leaning back into the couch, Carrie closed her eyes and pictured Jace’s usual stoic face and then the softer and more caring way he’d looked at her that morning. He’d always had a cold wall surrounding him, even in college, but Carrie had started to think that she had finally managed to break some of that down. The real Jace had started shining through. He’d been open, sharing. He’d made her think they might actually have some sort of future together, as difficult and confusing as that might be.
Carrie frowned and shook her head. She’d been wrong. Just as he’d woven a believable tale for the detective who had interrogated him that day at the station, he’d made Carrie believe that he was actually changing for her, that he’d given her the whole truth, that there was no reason she shouldn’t trust him.
She couldn’t believe she’d let him chain her up and take a whip to her ass when he’d been harboring a killer…or worse. If he was hiding that from her, there was no telling what else he was keeping a secret.
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