Still, her face lit up when Eric reached her, and she practically bounded into his arms for the short embrace they were allowed. He even snuck a bit of tongue into his kiss for good measure, but he was too scared to do more after the warning he’d been given before coming in here.
They retook their seats amid the clamor of the room, and when she looked at him, Eric felt something deep inside him relax.
“Hey,” she said quietly. Too quiet for her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
She blinked rapidly. Pregnancy hormones, she said, but Eric couldn’t say he didn’t love seeing all those emotions swimming across her beautiful face. He just wished he wasn’t the one making her cry.
He slid a hand across the table. Hers approached as well, fingertips touching fingertips.
“No touching!” barked the guard.
Eric sucked in a deep breath. Being in here was not good for his state of mind. He wanted to throttle anyone and everything keeping him from being with his wife and growing child, but he needed to get out. Anything but the best behavior would kill his chances.
“Lloyd called this morning,” Jane said, referring to Eric’s defense attorney. “He said the preliminary hearing was moved up to next week. Apparently, several of the board members called in personal favors with the judge. They said it’s bullshit that you’re being held without bail.”
“That’s because it is bullshit. I’m chairman of the biggest shipping company in the United States, and my wife is pregnant. I’m not a fucking flight risk.”
“I know. Of course you’re not.” But there was something in her voice. Some kind of strange hesitancy.
“What?” Eric asked a little more sharply than he intended. “What is it?”
She worried those plump lips enough that suddenly he wanted to jump over the table just to suck on them. Fuck the guards. Fuck their stupid tasers. Fucking hell it was hard being away from her, even just for a few days.
“I was reading the indictment,” she said. When her hazel eyes met his, they pierced. “Eric, I need to know something. Michael Faber. Jude LeTour. Kyle Madison.” She counted the names off with her fingers and looked up. “Is that the same Jude who…”
Eric nodded. “They’re all in the society. Funny. I never knew Faber’s first name until today.”
Jane worried her lips again. “Is it…is any of it true? Did you pass information on to these men about DVS stock?”
He couldn’t lie. He was disappointed she even asked. But at the same time, he also understood. He had lied to her about Janus. Lied about his past. About all of it. She had every reason to wonder what else he had kept from her.
But this…this wasn’t one of those things.
“I didn’t. Do. Anything,” he said, doing his best to convey his innocence with every cell in his body. “I swear to God, Jane. I didn’t. You heard Jude in Lucerne. I gave bad information. For exactly this reason.”
“And the other charges. They are naming the transactions you requested on New Year’s and the recommendations you made to the board members and your family. They must have tapped your phone, didn’t they?”
Eric bit his lip. “It wasn’t insider trading. We are a family interested in purchasing a full majority. There were no laws broken.”
She examined him for a second, and then relaxed. “Okay. I believe you.”
“But Carson and Jude…they did try,” Eric continued, wincing when Jane tensed again. “It was part of the requirement of being in the society, or so they said. Everyone had to bring things…to offer. At one point, Jude suggested I provide trade tips about DVS in exchange for Carson leaving us alone.”
“That’s extortion,” she said nastily. “That motherfucker.”
“Which is why I provided false tips,” Eric replied as he massaged his knuckles. They were sore. More than once he’d gotten upset enough to go to town on his mattress. The shitty piece of foam didn’t protect much.
“But you didn’t do anything else besides that?” Jane asked.
Eric grimaced. “I thought about it. I really did. But then I realized that if I did do it, I’d just be giving him one more thing to hold over me. One more bit of leverage.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should have. Maybe that’s why I’m here.”
But Jane just shook her head. “He wouldn’t have cared. Sociopaths never do.”
They sat there a moment, just watching each other. Unsure of what else to say. It was impossible not to hug her, kiss her. Vaguely, Eric wondered how much it would cost to arrange for a conjugal visit. The state prisons in New York allowed them, but he didn’t know about the city jails.
“The license?” he asked softly. He was almost afraid to ask. But just like her, he had to know.
“It’s filed,” Jane said, scooting her chair closer with a nervous look toward the guards. “I dropped it off myself and stayed until the clerk actually entered that shit into the system. The certificate is in a safety deposit box at the bank. We’re not fucking around with spousal privilege.”
Eric sighed with relief. Not just because now Jane wouldn’t have to serve as a witness if this bullshit actually went to trial, but because one of the few things that kept his mind sane in this place was knowing she was in his corner. There was always the chance she could have decided against it in the end. That it wasn’t worth her time to be trapped with a jailbird. She still had time to get out.
But, to his utter relief, it seemed she didn’t want to.
She was now really and truly his.
“That jumpsuit is really working for you,” she remarked, and the light in her eyes told him that he wasn’t the only one hard up. “They didn’t let you keep your tux, though? I thought you could wear your own clothes when you were just remanded.”
Eric thought back to the party, or really just before, when she practically couldn’t keep her hands off him. Some women felt like shit when they were pregnant, but Jane seemed to have morphed into even more of a nymphomaniac than ever. And he. Was. Missing. It.
Fuck.
“They gave it to me because I was getting harassed for wearing a tuxedo. They said my clothes were ‘distracting the other inmates.’” He looked down, disgusted by the coarse prison wear. “I look like a highlighter.”
Jane grinned. “You look like a badass. And pretty damn fuckable, if I do say so myself. We might need to rotate escaped prisoner into the bedroom when you’re out, Papillon.”
For that, she received a withering glare that might have made her laugh if they hadn’t been in these shitty circumstances. Instead, Jane bit her lip, and Eric had to adjust himself as stealthily as he could.
“I brought a change of clothes anyway,” she said. “All synthetic. No ironing needed.”
Eric nodded gratefully. “Good. Thank you.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just let me represent you,” Jane said as she examined her rings. “I’m probably ten times better than your lawyer anyway.”
“Lloyd Bennett is the best defense attorney in the city.”
“Hey, Folsom Prison, I’ll have you know that I was a damn good prosecutor. I had more convictions than any other ADA in their first five years.”
“Maybe you’d land me in jail then.”
“Eric…”
“What about Zola?” he interrupted. “Any news there?”
Jane shook her head, causing the black waves to jostle around her face. “No contact. He told Skylar he couldn’t because of the open investigation. The FBI are apparently working in conjunction with all of the New York City DAs.” She didn’t sound terribly surprised. “He was risking a lot in the first place telling us anything.”
Eric sighed. It wasn’t unexpected news, but it wasn’t great either. “What about Nina?”
“Nina and Olivia have been staying with me, actually.”
Eric perked. “What?”
“She wants to help, and she doesn’t like that I’m alone. I hope you don’t mind, but I told her about the baby. I also wonder if she�
�s been having some issues with Calvin because of all of this. It sounds like he’s been feeding information to Carson for a while.”
Eric contemplated that. Calvin had always been a conniving little shit, but he seemed loyal to the family. At least, until Eric returned. Now Eric wondered just how long he’d been the family’s Benedict Arnold.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, suddenly wanting to change the subject to anything but these shitty circumstances. “Are you sick at all? Skylar was a wreck when she was pregnant with Jenny.”
“Don’t remind me. I don’t want to jinx it. So far, the only side effects I’ve been experiencing are mood swings, bigger tits, and wanting to get it on with my husband at all hours of the day. Pretty inconvenient, since he’s locked up at the moment.”
“I want you to stay out of this, Jane,” Eric said even more abruptly. No room for jokes. Certainly not denial. “Absolutely out. Leave it to the lawyers, all right? You need to stay safe. You and the baby.”
She shrugged, a noncommittal movement that was so incredibly unlike her that Eric sat up straight immediately.
“Jane,” he said. “Promise me. You’ll stay out.”
Her eyes locked with his, glinting gold, like the crazy eyeliner she was wearing. “I can’t do that.”
“Jane—”
“I said no,” she repeated. “I’m not going to just sit around and let you rot in here or go through some bullshit trial. Honestly, Lloyd will probably get the whole thing dismissed if there’s no evidence. But in the meantime, I’m not interested in letting the shark go without so much as tossing out a net.”
Eric frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
She removed a photo from her back pocket and pushed it across the table. Eric examined the picture of a car outside a small house in what looked like a field. An Asian woman stood by the door.
“What is this?”
“The investigator finally found something,” she said. “They found my mother.”
Eric looked again. “That’s Yu Na?”
Jane nodded. “In Hwaseong, Korea. It’s the town where she grew up. And that’s a car that was rented to someone named Jonathan Carr.” She rolled her eyes. “Some people have no imagination.”
Eric frowned. Something about that name sounded familiar, but he didn’t know what. “He took her back to Korea?”
“Looks that way.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Jane wasn’t quite able to keep her voice from quavering. “But I’m going to find out.”
Eric swallowed. “What are you going to do? What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said, “that Carson doesn’t understand who he’s fucking with. He thinks he had some idiot bastard child who would be scared of him no matter what.”
She sat perfectly still, and in that moment, Eric had never felt so terrified or turned on.
“He forgot something critical.” Jane leaned in, close enough that Eric could see nearly every succulent ripple on her puckered red lips. “He gave his daughter away to a smart man and the most tenacious Korean lady this side of the Pacific. And that daughter…took down bad guys in one of the most crime-ridden cities on the planet.”
Eric blinked. His skin prickled all over. “Jane, you can’t be serious.”
“I spent five years putting much worse motherfuckers than him behind bars, Eric. John Carson doesn’t scare me. If anything, I should scare him. And the fact that I don’t gives us the advantage.”
“Jane, I’m serious. Stay out of it.”
She didn’t answer, just covered her stomach—which was still completely flat—with her hand. Her nails were painted black with tiny diamond studs at the ends. Eric smiled to himself at the sight of them. Even in a shithole like this, Jane was a damn beacon of beauty and badassery, as she might say. And in that moment, Eric knew there wasn’t anything he could do to stop her from trying to help.
Shit. Now he really needed to get out of here.
“How was the appointment?” Eric asked, suddenly eager to change the subject.
Jane adjusted her glasses. “It was fine.”
“Fine?”
She sighed. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me what happened,” Eric retorted. “Is it something bad? Did something happen to the baby?” The possibility that it was a false alarm shot through his mind, and his chest froze.
“Calm down,” Jane said. “It was fine. Look.” She reached into her back pockets and pulled out another photograph, which she set on the table. “They said I could show that to you.”
Eric picked up the paper like he was touching a priceless artifact. He stared at it for a really long time.
“You…okay there?” Jane asked.
His brow furrowed, making the spider-thin lines over his eyebrows come into high contrast. “I feel like an asshole. But…I can’t see it.” He pushed the paper back to her.
Jane just giggled and pointed to a tiny speck that resembled a piece of packing popcorn.
“I couldn’t see it either until the ultrasound tech printed it out and did the same thing,” she said. “Right there. They said I’m a little over six weeks.”
Eric looked up. “Thanksgiving?”
Jane blushed under the heat of his stare, and Eric found he really liked the way it looked. More, even than the pink of her flesh when he smacked her ass. He swallowed hard. All she could do was nod, her breath stunted.
Eric grinned, but his smile faded when he realized again where he was. Grappling all over again with the fact that his family was out there, literally growing, while he was stuck in here. Even worse, that he couldn’t touch his own damn wife now that she actually was his wife.
So he focused on the picture. “Hey there, peanut.”
Eric was surprised Jane didn’t tease him for the name.
“My dad used to call me peanut,” she said, almost dreamily.
He put the photo down. “Jane.”
She swallowed hard. “Don’t. Not…not until we get you out. You don’t understand, I’m pretty much on fire under all these layers, and it’s not because of the wool. You making googly eyes at our little cluster of cells isn’t helping matters either.”
Eric quirked a brow. “Is that right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited, Petri dish. It’s the hormones, like I said.”
He cocked his head. “You know you’re going to pay for that as soon as I’m out of here, right?”
Jane bit her lip again, then looked quickly around before she reached out a timid hand and stroked a finger over his knuckles. The rings he’d bought her, the ones that marked her as his, caught in the light and gleamed. Just like the one on his left hand.
“Oh, Mr. de Vries,” she said in a low, husky voice that managed to mock and love all at once. “I’m counting on it.”
* * *
To Be Continued…
September 2019 in The Love Trap
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Legally Yours
An Excerpt
It wasn’t until I was about halfway through the park that I heard a voice echoing behind me.
“Wait! Miss! Fuck, I don’t know your name, but will you just stop!”
I turned around to find Sterling bounding doggedly through the snow. He stumbled, nearly fell on a crack in the sidewalk, but rebounded with the reflexes of a trained athlete and caught up with me in a few more steps. A few more errant locks fell across his forehead, and I was faced with a smile that mad
e my legs feel as if they were immersed in a hot tub, not the frigid New England air blowing up my skirt.
“Do you always go wandering through the Commons after midnight?” he asked as he regained his breath. “It’s not exactly safe. Especially for someone like you.”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant by that, considering my size and gender. Instead, I flushed, suddenly embarrassed by my idiocy. I wasn’t some hayseed from the hills. In my desperation to escape that house and the very disturbing effect that, well, this man seemed to have on me, I had done what every city dweller knows not to do: wander a public park at night.
“You left without saying goodbye,” Sterling said with a sardonic lift of an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. Or what you were doing in my house.”
“God,” I said, finally finding my voice, but able to look everywhere but directly at him. Like the sun, he exuded energy so bright I couldn’t see clearly. So instead, I rambled.
“I’m so sorry about that. I’m a friend of Ana’s, your housekeeper. She just let me in for a minute but had to go, uh, deal with something in her room. I didn’t have any cell reception down there, so I came upstairs to find a signal. She had no idea, really, so please don’t blame her. I didn’t mean to intrude in your, space, truly, and, um...”
I didn’t stop babbling until Sterling placed his hands on my shoulders and bent down so his chiseled features were level with mine.
“It’s okay,” he said slowly, and I found myself rolling my eyes at his playful tone before I could stop myself.
“Sorry,” I repeated, but the babbling stage was over.
“Your name?” he prompted again, releasing my shoulders and standing back up straight.
It was then I realized again just how very tall he was. A frame that must have been close to six-four filled out a charcoal-gray suit in a way that made me wonder just how much time he spent wearing a suit and how much time he spent at the gym.
The Kiss Plot: Book Two of the Quicksilver Trilogy Page 35
