That last word left no doubt in her fuzzy mind that he was guaranteeing a lot more than just the speed of his arrival.
She wet her suddenly dry lips, trying desperately to work up enough moisture to respond. Play it off like she'd been kidding around. But the intensity in his eyes halted her dead in her tracks.
Lord was he handsome. And wrong. She did like him. More than she ought to.
Even as her brain was telling her to open the door...to step out and thank him for the ride, she found herself leaning toward him, like he was steel and she was a magnet.
"Sadie," he muttered, when her mouth was only an inch from his. It was meant to be a warning, she was sure, but it sounded more like a prayer. A second later, he closed the gap between them and slanted his mouth over hers. This was no gentle kiss. It was a maelstrom of heat and want. A culmination of tension that had been brewing between them from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other.
He traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and laced his fingers into her hair, tipping her head to the side so he could take the kiss deeper. She groaned against his mouth, desperate to get closer, silently cursing the console between them.
"I knew you'd taste like that," he rasped, the huskiness of his voice conveying his need. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and the thought sent a bolt of heat through her. “All sweet and hot.”
She barely caught her breath before he was back again, kissing her like she was the last woman on earth. When had she kissed a man last? And moreover, when had she ever been kissed like this?
The answer required no thought at all.
Never.
She strained forward, giving in to the need to touch him, letting her fingers trail over his rock hard biceps before gripping his thickly muscled shoulders. He felt more superhero than man and she groaned her approval.
He drew back to pepper kisses along her jawline. "Don't make that sound. It's killing me," he said, his voice all growl.
A thrill ran through her and she shifted her body closer to his, tilting her head back to give him better access as his mouth moved over her throat. Could he feel the pounding of her pulse against his lips? He nipped her sharply and then soothed the spot with his tongue.
"Ah, Countess," he bit out through gritted teeth, dropping kisses on her neck between words, "we've got to stop while I still have a thought in my head."
Every nerve in her body rallied in protest. She didn't want to stop. She didn't want to think. She just wanted to feel.
Just this once...
Jake sucked in a steadying breath and tried to think through the rush of blood pounding in his head.
What had he done to deserve this extra helping of suffering tonight? Because suffering, he was. The most gorgeous and compelling woman he'd ever met was sliding her tongue into his mouth the way he wanted to slide into her, and he had to say no. It defied all the laws of nature. His cock was jammed against his fly like a war-hammer ready for battle, and his thighs quaked with want.
Using every ounce of self-control he could muster, he began to pull away, but she wasn’t letting go. She moved with him, stretching as far across the barrier between them as she could, smashing her soft breasts against his hard chest.
"Please stay," she whispered, and then kissed him again.
"I can't."
For once, though, it wasn't about Hannigan or the job. The way he felt in the moment, that all seemed far away. Like another time and place.
But he couldn't bring himself to take advantage of Sadie when she was obviously drunk. Which meant bringing things to a halt sooner than later.
And, damn, did that sting.
He took her shoulders gently in his hands and pulled back, anchoring her in place. "Sadie…"
Her glassy eyes went sharp and she ran a trembling hand over her lips. "Um, yeah, sure. I get it. Sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"Don't," he demanded, his tone sharper than he'd intended. He shook his head and lowered his voice. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you drink so much. You seemed like you needed to unwind, and I knew I'd be able to get you home safe.” He blew out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his chin. “But going into your apartment, fucking ourselves blind, isn't getting you home safe. If we sleep together, it will be because we both want it, not because you were piss-drunk."
He hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to let her down easy, not all but invite her for a ride on the Jake Express once she'd slept it off. Once they'd both had some time and space to think without their hormones getting in the way, surely they'd both realize they'd dodged a bullet.
So why wasn't he explaining that to her? Letting her know this was never going to happen?
"It's okay. It's all good. You're totally right, I should go in. I've got someplace to be early in the morning," she said, adding a rusty sounding laugh. "Better take some aspirin before bed, am I right?"
She had one hand on the door and it took everything he had not to reach out for her. To yank her right over the console and onto his lap to show her that stopping had been just as hard on him as it had been on her --his cock bucked in protest-- maybe even harder.
But when she pushed open the door, he let her.
"I'm going to at least walk you up," he said, reaching for his own handle. It wasn’t the best neighborhood and the apartment building had a creepy vibe.
"There’s a doorman, I’ll be fine. And honestly?” She pursed her lips and leveled him with a solemn stare. “I'd really rather be alone right now."
Shit. He’d hurt her feelings, and that hadn’t been his intention at all. He’d stopped because he didn’t want to hurt her. What a class A fuck up he was sometimes.
"Well, we're going to need to set up a time to talk. Go over some strategies, work on our cover story.” He couldn’t stop the next words from tumbling out, in spite of knowing no good could come of them. “I’ll take you to dinner.”
She nodded and smiled, but it felt forced. “Give me a call and we’ll work something out.”
What a fucking heel. Ironic that he’d made her feel bad when he wanted nothing more than to make her feel good.
She stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. He waited until she entered the building, and then a few minutes longer, wondering if he should text and make sure she got upstairs all right. She was a grown woman and had clearly done a fine job managing herself up until now, so why did he feel the urge to make sure she was taken care of?
The question answered itself as he stared at the decrepit building. Whatever front she was trying to convey, she wasn’t on the grift so she could live the high life and roll around in her bags of money. From what he could tell, there was no sign that she spent any of it on herself at all, a fact that fascinated him.
Yes, if he could help Sadie while still getting what he wanted from this Hannigan situation, there was no reason why he shouldn’t.
And if, in the meantime, he was able to uncover more of her secrets?
More the better.
Chapter Eight
“That’s the third text you’ve gotten from him since you walked in, and you blush every time. So you’ve got a boyfriend then. That’s what you’re telling me?” Clarissa leaned over the side of the hospital bed and shook Sadie’s shoulders, a wide grin stretched across her pale lips. “Sadie’s got a boy-oy-friend,” she said in a singsong voice. “It’s about time.”
Sadie winced, pressing her forefingers to her temples as the throbbing ramped up to double time. “First, stop shaking me. My head feels like it’s about to explode. Second, two dates does not a boyfriend make, so don’t get crazy.” When she had told Clarissa she was having dinner with Jake later, her sister had assumed he was the guy she’d attended the gala with. She wasn’t about to correct her, but she didn’t want her to get her hopes up, either. “In fact, it’s not even really a date…”
So what was it, then? It wasn’t just a business meeting. She could fool herself into pretending otherwise, but tha
t didn’t explain why, when Jake had called that morning, she’d spent two hours poring over the contents of her sad little closet like a teenager heading out to her first dance. Or why, when he’d texted to ask her restaurant preferences, she’d gotten flustered and jittery. It definitely wasn’t a date, though. People didn’t go on dates to talk about how best to rig a card game or determine the best escape route in the event of trouble.
But what about the kiss…
She shoved the memory aside and tried to will away the sudden heating of her cheeks. “It’s a get together. A hang out, is all. God, can’t a girl just hang out with a guy like friends or whatever?”
Clarissa sat back on her pillow, the smug smile still wreathing her face. “You ‘hung out’ at the gala, too. I hate to tell you, but if you wear a dress like the one you wore that night, it’s a date.”
If that were true, it was the weirdest date ever. She couldn’t help the small and selfish part of her that wished she could tell Clarissa the truth about her life and her nighttime activities. She would have cried laughing at the story of her big sister pretending to be a Countess and taking a dive out a balcony, or getting caught with the jewels and then kicking Jake in his jewels. But after the laughs, Clarissa would blame herself for the life Sadie led, and that was the last thing she wanted. No one had forced her into anything. She’d made her choices and sure, they were tough sometimes, but she’d make every one of them again if she had to. Until they were sure Clarissa was cancer free for good --God willing, that would be this time-- she’d continue the charade, letting her sister believe that everything was normal.
“Okay, so maybe it was a date. But I don’t think it’s going anywhere serious. He’s got some baggage.” At least that much was true.
Clarissa snorted and reached for the glass of water beside her on the rolling tray. “Don’t we all? And who’s to say that every relationship has to go somewhere, anyway?” She shook her head and took a long sip from the glass before setting it down with a decisive clink. “When I’m healthy again, I’m not living for the future. I’m going to do what feels good in the now, because tomorrow might never come for any of us. Find me a hot guy to take me to a gala and make me blush like that, and I am so down.” Her blue eyes locked with Sadie’s and she lifted her chin in challenge. “And, frankly, I kinda think you’re a chicken-shit if you’re not.”
Sadie held her sister’s gaze, sadness rushing over her like a wave. “I’m so sorry-” Clarissa shushed her with a talk-to-the-hand.
“Don’t you dare apologize for being healthy. The one thing I thank God for every day is that it’s me in this bed instead of you.” Her voice cracked and Sadie’s heart cracked right along with it. “And don’t tell me how everything is going to be okay and how I’ll have all those chances to live my life and meet a guy soon. I already know that. I’ve always known it. Sometimes I just get so tired, and it really helps if I know you believe it, too.”
“I do.” Tears blurred her vision as she took her sister’s cold hand, squeezing it gently in her own. “Jesus, sis, I’ve always believed-”
“Then act like it.” Clarissa’s eyes snapped with passion as she spoke, her voice getting stronger with every word. “Stop treating me like I’m going to drop dead before you see me next. Live your life. If you want me home, I need to know you’re doing that. I don’t want to feel like the anvil around your neck.” Clarissa stared down at their clasped hands and shrugged. “I don’t want to be a burden. That sounds silly because there’s no other way for me to be right now, but it’s the truth.”
Sadie’s stomach pitched and she swallowed hard to dislodge the knot in her throat. “You’re never a burden. You were the light of my life. Especially after mom died. I don’t know what we would have done without you, cracking jokes and making me and Dad smile when we needed it so bad.”
Clarissa gave her a shaky grin. “You guys always were an easy audience. Couple of bad knock-knock jokes, and you’d be laughing your asses off.”
“Well, believe me when I tell you that there is nothing that would make me happier than to have you home making me laugh, so let’s pinky swear.” She tugged her hand away from her sister’s and crooked her little finger. “We’re both going to do whatever it takes to make that happen, ASAP. And I promise I’ll work on getting my shit together.”
Clarissa clasped her pinky with Sadie’s and wiggled it. “Deal.” The heavy tension in the air disappeared in an instant. “Now, on to more important stuff. Did you hear one of the Kardashian sisters is going to name her baby Kale? Like the vegetable…”
Sadie stayed for another hour and they chatted about celebrities and current events and some new recipes they would try when Clarissa came home. By the time she walked out into the warm summer sunshine, she was feeling twenty pounds lighter. Like she’d been in a dark room and someone had finally showed her where the light switch was.
She’d spent the last decade and a half insulating herself from life and staying inside a little bubble because really living felt like a betrayal. How could she go to dances and have loads of friends and run track and flirt with boys while her baby sister lay in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of her nose and her hair falling out?
But she had it all wrong. Clarissa wanted those things for her. And not living life to the fullest was the real betrayal. Jesus, she’d been so blind and stupid.
No more, though. She had her health. She had her youth.
And, unless something had changed in the past twelve hours, she still had a chance to take life --and Jake Callahan-- by the balls.
***
“So here’s what we’ve got, in case you need to pull a quick disappearing act.”
Jake laid the blueprints out on the mahogany table and set a pair of coasters on each side to weigh them down.
Sadie let out a low whistle from between her teeth. "Fancy. Mine aren't nearly as nice, and they're also dated. I didn't even know about that new wing, or the second wine cellar." She tapped her index finger to the paper, indicating the spots she was referring to. "I bought my set from the nice lady at the desk of the deeds department at town hall and she let me photocopy them. You?"
"I made sure the architect who built the home when Alistair purchased it two years ago was on my payroll. Every time there was an upgrade or change, he redid the blueprints for me."
She inclined her head and made like she was bowing to him. "Well, clearly I'm in the presence of a master. I'll have to keep that in mind."
Another compliment. It was the third so far, and she’d only been in his house for thirty minutes. He found himself both intrigued and suspicious.
He hadn’t even been sure she would take his call that morning after the way last night had ended. She’d thrown him for a loop when she not only agreed to meet him, but called back a couple hours later to suggest getting takeout and eating at his house. Ever the optimist, his dick had gone stiff in an instant at the implications, but his brain was more cautious. Was this another grift? Some sort of angle to get into his house? The idea that he’d now become the mark would have been almost funny if it wasn’t such a real possibility.
But even that didn’t do fuck all to deflate his erection. Especially not when she walked in wearing the mini-est jean skirt he’d ever seen, paired with a white halter-top that made her look like a nineteen-fifties pinup.
She leaned over the long dining table to look closer at the blueprints, giving him a glorious, unobstructed view of her cleavage.
“I’ve been a solid card mechanic for more than ten years. I have no intention of getting caught, but if for some reason, the shit hits the fan, it seems like the best thing to do is to head out through the east wing and down the servants stairs out the side kitchen door.” She straightened to face him.
He dragged his gaze away from her perfect-handful breasts and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Since he introduced us, Hannigan won’t suspect we’re working together. Even if he suspects me or I make a mista
ke, go along with him. Get irate. Maybe yell at me some. Whatever you have to do to maintain your own cover. What’s he going to do? Call the police to come arrest the cheater at his illegal high stakes card game? Not likely. I’ll give them their money back, kick off my heels and bolt. Call myself a cab and have them meet me around the corner. You stick around until things cool off. As long as you get a chance to put the jewelry back and I walk out with at least the twenty-five thousand dollar stake I started with, it’s all good.”
Her assessment was close to his own, but Hannigan could be something of a wildcard. If he got angry and felt disrespected in front of his peers, there was a chance things could heat up.
Jake cut that thought short. Odds were everything would turn out just fine. Especially if Sadie was as good as he thought she was. No point looking for problems.
"I’ll pick you up at your apartment at eight on the nose,” he confirmed. “By the time we get there, everyone should already be settled in.”
She nodded, but then paused, chewing on her lower lip. “What if you were right, after all? What if he doesn't let me play?"
Jake stared down at her for a long moment and then barked out a laugh. "You can't be serious? I just said that to try to talk you out of it. Did you see the way he was eye-balling your...er, the Countess’s assets? If you wear the right clothes, I'm pretty sure you could get him to sign over the deed to his house."
Her eyes took on a speculative gleam. "Now that would be a good score."
"Only problem is, you'd get the house with him in it."
She shook her head, sending a dark lock falling forward over her cheek. "Forget it, then. Not worth it."
Another thing he respected. She might not be Mother Teresa, but she had a moral code --albeit a screwed up one-- that fit very nicely with his own. She could easily have landed herself a sugar daddy like Alistair who would have taken care of her, but she chose not to. That realization relieved him more than it should have.
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