TRIGGERED: A Romantic Suspense Bundle (5 Books)
Page 66
“You don’t know that. You don’t know where she is.”
Barkley moved the last inch, claiming her lips with his own. Only a small amount of pressure was needed with a gentle flick of his tongue to her lower lip, for her to open her mouth to him for a deep kiss. Her hands reached up, moving into his hair, his whispered words becoming only a vague memory as heat rose between them.
Selene felt her body lift as Barkley picked her up and set her on the vanity in front of him. He moved her legs apart with one demanding smack of his knee against hers, placing one hand on either side of her slim hips. Selene could feel his excitement as he pushed his groin against her.
I have to stop this.
Her body was still not her own. Instead of trying to wriggle away, slap his face, or do any number of other things to get the situation back under control, Selene found herself tugging at his jersey and pulling it over his head. Rounded, hard, muscled shoulders appeared out of a white wife beater. It was more than she expected and definitely more than she could take. She would be in this man’s bed if she didn’t do something right then.
“Barkley.” She breathed against his cheek.
“Yeah?” he asked, pulling at her jersey.
“We…we just…” She placed the palms of her hands against his chest.
Barkley stopped and looked her in the eye. “Too soon, huh?” His flushed face was apologetic, but the bright green eyes were greedily hoping she would disagree. Barkley backed away as she slowly nodded her head.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, running a hand over her hair. “That was the most excitement that I’ve had in months.” He gave her a lopsided grin, one dimple popping out. “Besides. You’re worth waiting for.”
***
Selene threw her purse onto the kitchen table and dialed Lucas Mitchell’s number from memory. Unfortunately it wasn’t late enough to actually get him out of bed. Unless he went to bed at nine o’clock, but she somehow envisioned him as part of the undead, and that he never slept. He just sat around in a darkened room, plotting other people’s demises, particularly that of his son-in-law.
“Hello, Selene.” Looked like he had her number memorized, too.
“Tell me, Mr. Mitchell, did your daughter ever have an affair?” It was Selene’s test for the old man. His answer would determine how delusional or full of crap he was. Either way it would determine how much Selene could tell him.
His hesitation wasn’t a good sign. “Of course not. Is that what he’s saying?”
“No. I was just wondering.” Selene sat down hard on one of her kitchen chairs, suddenly feeling very alone in this case.
“You must have a reason for asking. Did one of his servants say something?”
“No. I’m doing what you’re paying me to do, putting things together, trying to figure things out.”
The silence was thick. Selene was determined to not be the first to break it. Finally, Lucas spoke, his words terse, “I see.”
“So, I think I’m going to try and get Barkley to take me to his Virginia home.”
“Why?”
“I think it might be a good idea. I was able to snoop a little tonight, but I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.” It amazed and frightened Selene how easily she was learning to lie.
“Do what you think you have to do.” He coughed wetly. “And Miss Velasquez?”
“Yeah? You’re calling me by my last name, so this must be pretty important.”
“Guard yourself. Don’t fall for Barkley Bailey. I feel he’s a dangerous man.”
“Of course not.” The lies were getting easier and easier.
Chapter Three
Selene had reluctantly given her phone number to Barkley. It wouldn’t help the charade if she was any more elusive than she already was. He had stood by her car, begging to see her again the following day, but she had told him she needed to work, which had narrowed his eyes.
“I’m not sure I want you dancing for another man now that you’ve danced for me.”
Selene had smiled brightly. “Got to pay my bills some kind of way.”
“Let me pay them.” He found a strand of hair and began winding it around his forefinger.
“Remember, I can’t be bought.” She had laughed and slid into her front seat.
Now it was six the next morning, and his final words haunted her.
“Everyone can be bought.”
What exactly had Barkley Bailey bought and paid for that no one knew about? What if he was a killer? What exactly would she do then? She was falling hard. She was falling hard for a complete stranger.
She wasn’t surprised that her phone was ringing when she stepped out of the shower an hour later. She had barely said hello when Barkley’s excited voice began speaking.
“So, what would you make dancing tonight? I’ll double it if you come with me to Virginia. I won’t be buying you per say, just paying for services.”
“And what services would that be, Barkley?”
“My escort. Not that kind of escort, if that’s what you’re thinking. You can dance for me tonight.”
“You aren’t coming back tonight?”
“Nope. I’m going to stay a few days. I have some business to take care of.”
Selene rubbed at her wet hair with her towel. “I don’t know…” She had to make the show good, even though this was the exact opportunity she had spoken to Lucas about only just the night before.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. My house is on ten acres of land. I have a few horses. It will be like a vacation for you.”
“I thought you were paying me for my services.” She teased, her stomach doing nervous flips.
“I am! You’ll only have to dance twenty minutes a night.”
“Well, I normally get at least three hundred for a private dance.” She pulled the number straight out of thin air.
“Done. I’ll give you a thousand.” He laughed, the hope in his voice tangible.
“I guess I could come with you.”
“Great! And bring a dress. I want to take you somewhere special before we come back.”
“You know, Barkley, this isn’t really normal. We can’t see each other every single day.”
“Yes, we can. Besides, I’m a billionaire. I can do whatever I want.”
“Right.” Selene replied dryly. “What time should I be there?”
“I can pick you up.”
“It’s alright. What time?”
“Can you be here by ten?”
“I can.”
As soon as the call was over, Selene peeked inside her closet. Things were just as she expected; nothing had changed. She opened the closet doors the rest of the way with a sigh. A couple pairs of plain dress pants, one power suit for when she had to appear in court cases, and her dress uniform from the Corp. The one dress she owned was a simple, black, long sleeve with a curved neckline. She pulled it out and stared at it in dismay. It looked like something a grandmother might wear to a funeral. She hung it back up and went to her dresser. Plenty of underwear and socks. A pleather of jeans and t-shirts. It looked like Lucas Mitchell’s money would come in handy. This was a needed business expense if she ever saw one. Selene smiled slowly. When was the last time she had been shopping for clothes? She could barely remember.
***
Selene barely had time to pack her bag. She had made a mad dash to the closest department store and came away with her wallet five hundred dollars lighter. She normally would have been appalled at herself, thinking such extravagance over shoes and clothes to be a waste. As she turned one more time and admired herself in the mirror, she no longer felt that way, at least not to the degree she had before. One of the new outfits was already on her body, a lightweight, rose-colored sweater, light-colored jeans, and plain white sneakers. She also had a new wrap around dress in royal blue with a dangerously plunging neckline, and open-toed black heels. Since she normally carried a small backpack-style purse, sh
e had even splurged on a purse to match the new shoes.
Selene folded her other new clothes and carefully laid the dress on top of it all. She had never had a problem fitting clothes and accessories when she was travelling, but for that particular bag, she had to sit on it to get it zipped. Selene stepped back with hands on hips and blew a strand of loose hair from her face. She groaned outwardly when she saw the box her heels were still in sitting beside the suitcase, waiting to be packed.
“Crap.” She checked her watch and grabbed one of the plastic bags from her shopping trip, shoving the shoes inside. As an afterthought she grabbed a couple books from the bookshelf and tossed them in with the shoes. She had no other reason for it except to kill time when Barkley was busy with his work or whatever he was doing. She double-checked that her camera had batteries and threw that into her purse before banging her way out the front door.
It made no sense to her why traffic would be so terrible on a Monday at nine thirty in the morning, even on the beltway, but there it was, and Selene weaved through the seemingly endless lines of traffic, dared every yellow light to turn red, and cursed her way to Barkley’s. He was in the driveway, tossing an overnight bag into his trunk.
“I’m not late!” she yelled through the open, driver’s side window, pushing her gear shifter into park.
Barkley checked his watch. “One minute after ten, young lady. I’ll let it slide this time.”
“Gee, thanks.” Selene went to her trunk and started pulling her things out.
“What do you have in here? Dead body?” Barkley asked, taking the suitcase from her.
“Very funny.”
“So, Betty is coming with us, but Robert will return here tonight.”
“What about your mother?”
Barkley’s jaw tightened. “She may come later today. She hasn’t decided yet. I wanted her to go to the Caymans, but…” His voice trailed off. There wasn’t anything to say.
“Coming with us might be good for her.”
“Not good for me.” Barkley breathed, as he moved towards his car.
“Do you not have other servants there?”
“I do,” Barkley replied, closing the trunk. “There’s a couple, the Sanders, who help care for my horses and take care of general upkeep. I have a gardener, who also helps with the horses.” He laughed and shook his head. “You’ll like him, and he you I’m sure.” He smiled knowingly.
“Why do you say that?”
“He has a story for everything, laughs all the time, and to be frank, he likes pretty women.”
“Ah.”
“Go ahead and put your car in the garage.”
“Is it open?”
“Yes.” Barkley turned, as Betty came out of the front of the house, a pink suitcase clutched in one hand.
“Now, Betty, I told you I would bring that down for you.”
“Pshh,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’m not that old yet.”
***
The ride was pleasant, with Betty chatting happily with Barkley and Selene from the back seat. The drive only took two hours, and Selene was sorry it was over so soon. She had allowed Barkley to hold her hand, his thumb moving constantly over the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger. It felt good to have a man hold her hand again.
Barkley turned into a gated driveway, which looked like it led into woods. There wasn’t a house in sight. The gravel and dust were a surprising change from the hard-paved, two-lane road from which they had just turned off. Trees and brush pressed in close to the edges of the car.
Selene wanted to ask how long the driveway was and had begun to think it was just some kind of road, but she kept her mouth closed as the car suddenly broke through the dense woodland and a lush, rolling property opened before her. She leaned into the passenger window and turned, straining to see past Barkley on the driver’s side. The house sat on a small hill, a sprawling piece of architecture that had to have been built at least as far back as the 1700s. She caught a glimpse of the barn and wooden fencing before the car dipped down one hill and then ascended the final hill to the house. As if reading her mind, Barkley said, “It was once a plantation. It was built in the mid-1800s. Of course, I put it through a full-scale renovation when I bought it, complete with central heat and air-conditioning, but I tried to save as much of the original house as possible. What I couldn’t save, I had replicated.”
“It’s beautiful.” She smiled in wonder. Ivy climbed the house in various places. Strategically placed landscaping accentuated the home’s beauty, but didn’t take, nor dominate it. Fall mums lined the steps to the wrap around porch in what looked like barrels cut in half.
“I’m glad you like it.” Barkley was legitimately pleased, as if he feared she wouldn’t.
Selene felt like royalty as all of the servants came and stood on the porch as Barkley brought the car to a stop.
“Is it like this every time?
“No, dear, not exactly.” Betty piped up from the backseat. “I imagine they are more curious about you than interested in formally greeting Barkley.”
“Oh.” Selene laughed.
“Especially since he’s standing there grinning like an idiot.”
Selene looked to see whom she meant and saw a middle-aged man with skin the color of coffee, green baseball style work hat in his hand. He had on a green uniform of the sort that she had seen other landscapers wear.
“That would be Moses, but don’t ever call him that. He hates it. Call him MJ.”
“All right. I should have taken notes.”
Barkley laughed and got out of the car, his intent to go around and open the door for Selene and Betty, but MJ beat him to it.
“Hello!” MJ said warmly, a large smile still plastered to his handsome face. “Come out here, young lady and meet everyone.” He offered Selene a hand. “I’m MJ.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Sss…Gisele.”
Barkley looked at Selene oddly, a slight tilt to his head as she stammered over her alias name. Selene laughed it off, her cheeks growing red.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day already.”
“That’s all right!”
“Thanks for remembering the old rule ‘age before beauty,’ you big flirt,” Betty complained, jabbing MJ in the side.
“Aww…now come on; you know you’re my favorite girl,” he amended, leaning over to hug her. “Why have you been away so long?”
“Because Barkley has needed me elsewhere.”
“Hello,” a thin woman said, extending her hand towards Selene. She had short brownish-gold hair and was dressed in denim capris and a simple, peach, button-down shirt. “I’m Mary Sanders.”
“Gisele Velasquez.” It was dangerous to use her real last name, Selene felt it in the pit of her stomach, but she had to say something about a last name eventually. She realized as soon as she said it that she had spent the entire weekend with Barkley and he hadn’t once asked her what her last name was.
A man dressed in dirty jeans with an equally dirty baseball cap extended his hand as well. His barrel chest strained against a worn flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Jim Sanders.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Selene smiled.
“I have a light lunch ready. Just cold chicken sandwiches with pickles and chips,” Mary Sanders offered apologetically. “Barkley didn’t give me much warning, or I would have done better.”
“Cold chicken sandwiches sound wonderful.”
Mary offered her a shy but grateful smile.
“I know, I know. I’m an inconsiderate boss sometimes.”
Mary opened her mouth, but Jim spoke up. “Don’t mind her. She thinks she needs a two-day notice for stuff like that. She’s been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, cleaning an already spotless house all morning.”
“Can I get your bags?” MJ asked Selene.
“Yeah, and you can get mine, too,” Barkley said dryly.
“We’ll get them all,” J
im assured him.
MJ watched with regret as Barkley ushered Selene up the steps and helped her disappear within the house. Selene heard him murmur to Jim just before the door closed: “Lord have mercy, but that’s a fine-looking woman.”
Selene soon forgot MJ’s compliment as she stepped into a piece of history. The foyer was large and airy, a staircase just to the left of the foyer rose to the second floor, the banister continuing to the right, as a small part of the second floor remained visible. A floor-to-ceiling window with multi-panes could be seen a good distance past the staircase, a long mahogany table with a dozen matching chairs around it. Selene peeked into a parlor-style room to the left, just off of the staircase, and another room to the right, which looked to be a library.
Selene smiled over her shoulder at Barkley. “This place is amazing!”
“Thanks,” he replied humbly. “I like it. Not sure I like it more than my other home, but I do like it. This was more Sarah’s thing.”
Selene’s smile faded, Barkley’s unintended reminder for why she was here in the first place dampening her mood.
“Well, it’s stunning. Regardless of who’s responsible.”
“Oh, I had a large hand in it, but the interior was more her.”
Betty moved past them to the staircase, a flip comment all she wanted to offer. “Maybe you should change some of it then. Make it your own, Barkley.”
Selene watched Betty start up the steps, aware that the woman suffered knee pain by the way she moved cautiously onto each step.
“She’s right.”
“Oh no. I’d have it all dark wood and earth colors.”
Selene looked at the peach and yellow dominating everything. There were touches of other pastel colors as well, but it wasn’t gaudy. Whomever had been actually responsible had been careful to keep it classy, but it was overwhelmingly feminine.
“Show me the rest.”
Barkley took her to the open dining room, allowing her to stick her head into the kitchen, where Mary was busy preparing the lunch. The kitchen was country style, lots of white, with a quaint area that could be used as a breakfast nook, a bench on one side of a wooden table and two chairs on the other side.