by Kathryn Shay
“You were going out on her yacht.”
“I was.” He grinned. “Looks like you called just in time.” He brushed her lips with his. “Even if I’d thought about that kind of intimacy with her,” he whispered against them, “I wouldn’t have pursued it. I wanted you the whole time I was in Boston.”
“I’m glad.”
He sighed and settled his arm around her shoulder. “Except for the warehouse, you were all I thought about.”
“The warehouse?”
“Zeleny called while I was gone. He wants to meet with me on Monday.”
“Oh, good. Maybe the cause of the fire will be cleared up.”
“Richard seemed anxious when I spoke with him this morning.”
Francey drew back to look at him. “Alex, if you want to talk about Richard and the investigation, I’m a good listener.”
“Maybe sometime. I am worried about Richard. But not now. I don’t want to spoil tonight.” He fingered the collarless back of her outfit. “So this is one of Diana’s designs?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you wear a lot of her clothes? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in them.”
“No, this is the first time. I bought them today, and Diana insisted on giving me a few other things, too.”
He groaned.
“What?”
“I’m not sure I can handle seeing you in these clingy outfits very often.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to cope.”
He took a sip of his Scotch. “How are you getting along with Diana?”
Francey remembered her mother’s pleasure at seeing her today. “Great. She’s made some overtures, and so have I.” Francey frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m worried about her, though. My father’s being downright cruel to her. I’ve never seen him act this way.”
“If he’s striking out at her, he’s probably in pain.”
“He is. Which is why he’s so adamant that we don’t…” She hesitated.
“What?”
“Nothing. I didn’t want to get into this tonight.”
“Your father doesn’t want us to see each other, does he?”
She nodded. “He’s afraid I’ll get hurt.”
Alex threaded his hand in her hair. “I won’t hurt you, Francesca.”
Doubt curled inside her. “You wouldn’t intentionally. I know that. But if we let this go further and our relationship doesn’t work out, we’ll both be hurt.”
He stilled. “If? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No.” She leaned into him, letting her head rest on his chest, breathing in his scent. “I want more from you, Alex. I have from the beginning. I’m willing to risk getting close.”
“But?”
“But if you could see my mother and father together. The pain from them both is almost tangible. Sometimes I don’t know how they stand it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“They aren’t us, though.”
“I know, that’s what Dylan said.”
His hand stopped smoothing her hair. “You talked to Dylan about us?”
Again, she nodded. It took her a minute to note the stiffness that had crept into his body. She drew back. “Alex?”
“I don’t think I like hearing that you discussed me with Dylan.”
“Why?
He didn’t answer.
“Are you jealous of Dylan?” The thought pleased her, given her obvious green-eyed reaction to Suzanne.
“Me? Jealous? Of course not. I don’t have a jealous bone in my body. As a matter of fact, I can’t remember one time when…” He scowled at her. “I’m jealous as hell of Dylan O’Roarke.”
“We’re just friends.”
“So you said.”
She giggled.
“It’s not funny.”
“It is funny. Rockford’s most eligible bachelor is behaving like a schoolboy.”
He arched a brow. “A schoolboy? Me?” She recognized the error of teasing him a second too late. He snatched the glass out of her hand, set both drinks on the table and had her on her back before she could blink. “You want to see schoolboy—” he covered her upper body with his chest “—this is schoolboy.” His face hovered so close she could detect the faint growth of beard on his jaw. She wanted to run her fingers along the surface, but he had her arms pinned.
“Now apologize.”
“For what?”
“For taunting me with other men.”
“What’ll you do if I don’t?”
“I’ll have to exact punishment.”
“I’m not into BDSM, Alex.”
“No? Then you’d better watch your mouth, lady.”
“I’d rather watch yours.” Her eyes dropped to his lips. “I’d rather have yours.”
“Not until you make me a promise.”
“What?”
“That you won’t look at another man while we’re together.”
“That would be pretty tough. I sleep with five men every night on the late shift”
“Not a good time to tease me, Francesca.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
“Don’t make me get rough.”
She giggled again. “I’m shocked, Alex.”
“At what?”
“At this side of you. I didn’t expect you to be so aggressive.”
“No? What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that you’d be a little stuffy.”
“Stuffy?”
“Um, yeah.”
“You mean, stuffy, like in bed?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought that far.”
“You’re going to have to pay for this, Francesca.”
“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
“Too late.”
“Too late?”
“Yeah. I can see I’m going to have to take steps.”
“What kind of steps?”
“Steps to drive the point home.” He shifted and covered her with his whole body; she could feel him hard against her stomach.
She arched into him. “Oh, dear, if you have to take steps, there’s probably nothing I can do about it.”
He laughed. So did she. Then he lowered his mouth.
Neither of them laughed nor spoke for a long time.
CHAPTER NINE
“Where the hell are you?” Richard asked as he paced Bob Zeleny’s office at eight-thirty Monday morning. Slouching in his chair, Alex opened his eyes and studied his brother. Richard looked like hell, despite his meticulous gray pinstripe suit, Italian leather loafers and gold watch, which he checked again. His eyes were so bloodshot it worried Alex.
“I’m right here, waiting for Zeleny to keep his appointment.”
The statement was a lie, of course. All the way over to the Public Safety Building and the time they’d spent in the fire marshal’s office waiting, Alex had been back on that couch with Francesca.
He’d kissed her senseless Friday night, and by the time he let her up, she’d been clinging to him. Oh, he’d enjoyed that! And on Saturday night, after dinner at the Rio, when they’d returned to her place, he’d kissed her some more, and she’d melted into him with a glorious lack of restraint.
Alex was surprised at how much he enjoyed this delay in taking their relationship to its natural intimate culmination. Instead of resenting the frustration he felt when he left her, he relished it—the right to touch her more intimately each time; how she was as aroused and excited as he by their contact. And he definitely relished the anticipation of finally having her. It was like waiting for an athletic competition in college—a tennis match or a soccer game. He’d enjoyed the buildup as much as the contest itself.
“There you go again,” Richard said. “You just zoned out. Is it a woman?”
Alex smiled.
Richard didn’t. “You’re thinking about Francesca
Cordaro, aren’t you?”
“This isn’t the place to talk about her.”
“I tried to call you all weekend. Were you with her?”
Nodding, Alex knew he was unsuccessful in keeping the Cheshire cat grin off his face.
“Did you finally get around to screwing her?”
Bolting off the chair with the speed of an angry panther, he controlled the urge to lunge for Richard. “I told you once not to talk about her in those terms. I’m warning you—”
“Excuse me.”
Both men whirled around to find Bob Zeleny looming in the doorway. He stared at them hard, then came into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” he told them, circling his desk. As he placed his briefcase on the polished mahogany surface, he added, “There was a pileup on the four-ninety. Took forever to get around it.”
The Templeton men mumbled their understanding and the three of them dropped into seats. Zeleny drew papers out of his drawer. “I also apologize for the delay in this investigation, but I’ve been in the hospital.”
“Yes, we heard,” Alex said, noting Zeleny’s skin had the pasty color of the seriously ill. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, though I’m exhausted by the end of the day.” He held up the documents. “I think we’ve caught our culprit.”
Richard tensed. “Who is it?”
“A homeless man, we think. Name’s Ernest Mackey. There was a fire similar to yours in another warehouse last week. We picked up the suspect stumbling around the perimeter of the building while it burned. Inside we found an electric starter, like the one discovered in your place.” Zeleny handed Richard a picture. “You recognize this guy? From that night?”
Richard shook his head. “I’m not sure.” He showed the photo to Alex, who’d never seen Mackey before.
“Did he confess?” Richard asked.
Zeleny drew out glasses, perched them on his nose and perused the papers. “No, he claims he wasn’t anywhere near the Templeton warehouse six weeks ago. But we got a tip that he’d shacked up with a woman a block away for the last six months.”
“Not real proof,” Alex commented.
“We have a few other things. The second fire was put out sooner than the one in your warehouse, so we found some lighter fluid and wire inside. There were remnants of those two things at your place.”
“I thought you just found a starter,” Richard said.
“My assistant didn’t recognize the rest of the stuff because it was badly burned. He’s new. Once I was on my feet and studied the forensic report, I tagged it immediately.”
Alex sank back. “Is all this enough to indict the man?”
Zeleny scowled. “Maybe—along with something else we found out. We noticed the guy’s arms were pinkish—looked like they’d been burned. I had my team check out clinics in the downtown area. Sure enough, the day after your fire, a doc in the Westside Center reported treating Mackey for burn wounds.”
“He reported burn wounds? I don’t understand.” This from Richard.
Zeleny coughed and reached into his drawer for a lozenge which he popped into his mouth. “New York State has several reporting laws. If a person comes into a medical facility with a gunshot or stab wound or burns, the doctor is required to alert the police. The law has really helped arson investigations.”
Leaning forward, Richard slipped to the edge of his seat. “Is this considered arson? If the guy started the fire to keep warm?”
Zeleny frowned. “Technically, yes. He’ll be arraigned on arson four, which is the lowest count, a class D felony.” At Richard and Alex’s puzzled looks, Zeleny explained. “If a person causes a fire intentionally, even if he doesn’t mean to burn the building down, and the blaze damages people or property, he’s charged with reckless endangerment. Mackey will get that for the last fire, even if we can’t prove yours.”
“What’s the usual sentence?” Alex asked.
“Not much, unfortunately.” Zeleny frowned. “He’ll be charged but probably get probation for six months. Community service. The best thing that will come out of this is that he won’t start any more fires. Prosecution will scare the crap out of him.”
Alex frowned. “It’s too bad he can’t get a job. Will anybody look into that?”
Zeleny shook his head. “I doubt it. We’re not social workers.” The fire marshal stood; so did the Templetons. Zeleny reached out his hand. Alex shook it first. “This is probably done. Unless something new turns up, I’ll be closing the case.”
After bidding the fire marshal goodbye, Alex and Richard left. On the drive to Templeton Industries, both men were quiet until Richard let out a heavy breath. “Damn, I’m glad this is over with.”
“So am I.” Alex tried to soften his clipped tone, but he was angry at his brother. He stared ahead, watching the road as he maneuvered the Porsche through the rain.
“Look, I apologize for the crack about Francesca.”
“That’s what you said the last time.”
“I know. I’ve been stressed out about this fire thing.”
“Me, too, Richard.” Alex swerved into his space at Templeton Industries and killed the engine. He faced his brother in the car. “But that’s no excuse. And you might as well know. I’m going to be seeing a lot of her from now on.”
“You said this thing between you was just friendship.”
“That’s changed.”
“No surprise there.”
“Richard, I’m crazy about her. I wanted this to happen. I’m happy.”
“Hooking up with her is so not a good idea, Alex.”
Alex scowled and tapped his fist on the steering wheel.
“She’s not from our world.”
“Damn it, Richard, do you know how snobbish that sounds?”
“I don’t care. She’s not going to fit in.”
“Thank God. I told you, I was bored with society types.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed on him, then he shook his head. “All right, get her out of your system. Just don’t let the relationship get serious.”
Before Alex could respond, Richard got out of the car and darted through the rain into the building.
It didn’t make sense, Richard’s vehement dislike of Francesca. Alex exited the car, too, bothered by his brother’s reaction. In the elevator, he decided Richard’s bitterness from his recent divorce made him so crass and offensive about women. But once in his office, Alex forgot about his brother and reached for the phone to call the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. He concentrated on what the next few days had in store for him and Francesca, what delightful torture they’d inflict on each other until they consummated their relationship.
oOo
“I told you that you were pushing too hard.” Francey made the smug comment as she dug her fingers into Alex’s back muscles. “Your neck’s all knotted.”
Alex groaned. She grinned at the picture he made, grasping the pillow under his head, his chest on her lap, his naked back big and beautiful with a spattering of freckles. His torso was covered only in gray fleece shorts, and his legs sprawled out on the couch.
“It’s not nice to say I told you so,” he mumbled.
“You’re trying too hard to catch up with me.”
He eased his head toward her and opened one eye. “I did catch up with you. I benched one seventy-five tonight.”
“And strained these muscles in the process. Besides,” she grumbled, “I’m not sure I can still bench that much. The doctor won’t let me do any weights with this arm for a few more days.”
“Smart man.” Francey’s fingers trailed to the small of his back. “You’ve got great hands, Francesca. What they can do is sinful.”
Leaning over, she kissed his spine. “This is only a small display of my talent.”
“Don’t tease me, woman. Remember what happened the last time.”
Francey did. She could picture last weekend like a movie scene she couldn’t forget. Alex’s weight pressing her into the couch. His mouth ta
king hers. How his touch felt on her body. The images made her want to tease him all the more.
So she slid her hands inside the waistband of his fleece shorts. She kneaded his waist, then dipped lower, kneaded some more. He grumbled into the pillow, “I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you keep that up.”
She kept it up, but only for a minute longer. Because she was afraid of ruining this delicate balance, of hurrying things along. She wanted to enjoy the embers of desire she felt when she touched him. Getting to know his body gradually was delicious. It felt so good to explore him, to find out in stages what he liked and didn’t like, without worrying about how far the physical relationship would go, what would happen next. “Alex, is this okay with you?”
“The massage is wonderful.”
She slapped his rump playfully. “No, I mean the whole thing. Taking it slow?”
“Yes, Francesca, it’s okay.” In a surprisingly quick move, he flipped over and looked up at her. “With you?”
“Yeah.” She ran her fingers through the whorls of dark blond chest hair accessible to her. “Oh, yeah.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“It’s like when I was a kid. I wanted this baseball mitt really bad.”
“No doll, huh?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you get the mitt?”
“Yeah. Dad said we couldn’t afford the expense then, but he helped me find ways to make money so I could get it someday. I mowed lawns, washed cars at the gas station. I even babysat.”
“Girly work. How shocking.”
“I had fun walking by the store, staring at the glove, knowing I was going to have it eventually.” She toyed with the drawstring on his shorts.
Alex’s voice was hoarse when he said, “And when you got the mitt, was it all you expected?”
She smiled at him. “Uh-huh. Everything I ever wanted.”
A seductive grin suffused Alex’s face, and she felt her stomach contract. Slowly he reached to the top button of her yellow cotton blouse. He released it. “Did you go into the store, Francesca, and play with the glove?” His voice hypnotized her.
She swallowed hard. “Once or twice, when the manager let me.”
“Mmm.” He opened another button. “Did he let you fondle it?”
