by Cara Summers
Tracker shoveled in a final mouthful of scrambled eggs, chewed and swallowed. “I’m betting that Sophie’s somewhere on the estate. There are apartments over the garage that I didn’t get a chance to check. Falcone’s security is top of the line. Electronic surveillance as well as human. The two who helped Sophie into the RV were probably part of his crew.”
“It might help if we knew who they thought they snatched in the parking lot last night,” Lucas said.
“Tell me about it,” Tracker said.
“The D.C. police think that there have been two attempts to snatch Mac here because of her research. So it’s probable that whoever took Sophie last night thinks they have Mac. When she wasn’t in her apartment on Thursday morning, they could have traced her eventually the same way we did.”
“Yeah. And they have every right to think they have Dr. Lloyd,” Tracker pointed out. “Sophie was registered as the doc and she was dressed up impersonating the doc. Plus she was using the doc’s credit card at the bar.”
“But if Sonny dated Sophie in D.C., he might have seen through her disguise last night,” Mac said. “In those wigs, we do look a lot alike. But if I was wearing the blond wig right now, you’d still know it was me.”
Lucas turned to her. “What are you saying?”
“Only that if Sonny thought he was dating me and had an inside track to my research, and he suddenly found out that Sophie wasn’t me…”
“He could have snatched her in the heat of the moment, so to speak, and he could be using her as a pawn,” Tracker said. “She’s got a point.”
“Looking at it objectively as possible, there’s only one fact we can be sure of. Sophie was taken last night in that silver van,” Mac said. “The rest is just theory. We won’t know if it’s true until we test it. Therefore, it’s only logical that you take me along to the party because that will give you so much more flexibility in solving the problem. If I have to, I can sign papers on the spot, give them what they want, and we can walk out of there with Sophie.”
Lucas stared at her. “But you don’t want to sign those papers.”
She met his gaze steadily. “Sophie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me. Everything you said to me in Florida was true. I did lie to you. I didn’t tell you the whole truth. If I had, she wouldn’t be where she is right now.”
“Mac—” Lucas began.
“She’s my best friend and I love her.”
There was a beat of silence. Mac thought she saw something in his eyes, but then it was gone.
“You can’t fault her logic,” Tracker said.
“Thank you.” Mac sent him a crooked smile.
“Anytime,” Tracker said. “You gonna finish your home fries?”
Mac pushed her plate toward him.
“You hardly ate anything,” Lucas said with a frown.
“I ate a lot,” Mac said. “I knocked at least two inches off the top of this mountain.”
“No bickering, kids,” Tracker managed to say around a mouthful. “Whoever they think they’ve got, the way I see it, our job is to get in there and get her out.”
“The question is how to do that,” Lucas said.
Tracker sighed. “You always ask the tough questions.”
“There ought to be a lot of confusion when I show up as the real Dr. MacKenzie Lloyd.”
“No.” Tracker and Lucas spoke in unison.
“You can make your move then, while I’m distracting them,” Mac insisted.
“You can’t show up as yourself. It’s too risky. And it could put Sophie in even more danger,” Lucas said.
“Then I’ll come as Sally.”
“Sally?”
“Sally made quite an impression on the staff at the Wainright Casa Marina. Lucas even introduced me as his wife,” Mac said. “I bet Mr. Falcone won’t be surprised if you bring me. And I can help.”
“She could be right,” Tracker said.
Lucas hesitated for a moment, then said, “We’ll have to lay down some ground rules.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS NEARLY DAWN when Lucas rose and slipped from the bed. Moving quietly, he went into the living room of the suite at the St. Francis. Through the wide expanse of window, he could see the lights winking on the Golden Gate Bridge.
A quick glance at his watch told him that it would be at least four hours before Tracker would arrive, and the time could best be utilized by sleeping.
But sleep did not seem to be a possibility as long as he was in the same bed with Mac. He couldn’t seem to be anywhere near her and not make love to her. It hadn’t even mattered that she’d been asleep when he’d finally lost the battle he’d been waging with himself and crawled in next to her. Immediately she’d snuggled her backside into him so that they were lying side by side, nestled like spoons in a drawer. And immediately, his body had responded, growing hard.
It had been the same trusting way she’d slept with him in Florida, except, this time, he hadn’t been gentleman enough to just watch her. Just thinking of how he’d slipped his arms around her and eased his hand beneath the elastic of her panties was enough to have his body hardening all over again.
She’d been so soft and warm, as if she’d been waiting just for him. She hadn’t awakened right away, moving only slightly as he’d eased her panties off. She’d stirred again as he’d probed her from behind and then entered her. But she’d only fully surfaced when he’d begun to thrust into her with long, slow strokes. Even now he could hear her soft cries, urging him, pleading with him to go faster.
He hadn’t.
Instead, he’d touched her, brushing his fingers under her breasts and lightly over her nipples, then down her torso and lower. Then he would begin the whole process again. He’d purposely kept the pace slow, building the pleasure and then retreating until it had become so intense that neither one of them could bear it. Only then had he allowed her to climax. When she’d cried out his name, he’d finally sought his own release.
Afterward, she hadn’t been able to stop trembling. He’d held her close until she’d drifted off to sleep again. It had occurred to him that he could have gone on holding her just that way for a very long time.
The problem was that while his mind had found some kind of contentment, his body hadn’t. She’d barely dozed off when he’d wanted to wake her again.
Lucas made his way to the couch. He couldn’t stay in the same bed with her and not want to take her again. And again. At least if he stayed on the couch, one of them could get some sleep. He frowned down at the cramped space thoughtfully. Maybe if he hung his feet over one edge, and his head over the other…
Settling himself on the sofa, he twisted one way, turned the other, then tucked one arm beneath his head.
In his mind, he tried to focus on the plan that Tracker had outlined before they’d left the diner—where Mac had barely touched her food, he recalled with a frown. Of course, the food there hadn’t been the best introduction to San Francisco cuisine, he thought ruefully. He could think of several restaurants he wanted to take her to the next time they visited.
The next time?
The two words had him rising again and pacing to the window. Oh, there was going to be a next time, all right. He was going to make it happen.
Because he was almost sure he was falling in love with her.
Slowly, he lowered himself to the arm of a chair. If it hadn’t been directly behind him, he might have sat down right on the floor. He hadn’t planned on falling in love. In fact, he’d spent most of his life making sure that it would never happen.
Hadn’t his father always said that it was more fun when it sort of sneaked up on you and blindsided you? He’d always thought his father a fool for letting it just happen—for not building up a sort of protective armor against it.
His own armor hadn’t been able to stand up against Mac.
And just how did she feel about him? Oh, she was enjoying the sex part. There wasn’t enough dishonesty in her
to be faking that. And, after all, that had been what her whole little experiment had been about—acquiring the skill that it would take to keep a man’s eye from wandering.
But he hadn’t been thinking about contributing to her research on the plane or just now in the bedroom.
All he’d been thinking about was Mac. There were so many women inside her. Not only was she Dr. Lloyd, the focused, serious-minded scientist, but she was also Mac, who wouldn’t be left behind when her best friend was in danger. She had the loyal, nurturing nature of Lania, yet there was a very passionately playful and reckless side to her that was very much like Sally.
His gaze shifted to the bedroom door. And there was also a part of her who was Fiona—a part that desperately needed to be loved, without restraint, without inhibitions.
And heaven help him, he was in love with all of them.
Rising, he moved back to the sofa and stretched out on it again. He would do something about that once he made sure that both Sophie and Mac were safe. Twisting, he settled himself into the cushions. He had an idea that rescuing his sister was going to be an easier task than getting a restful night’s sleep on a piece of furniture that seemed to be designed for children.
VOICES PIERCED the dream Sophie was having.
“She’s got to be awake. It’s been over twenty-four hours.”
Instantly, she tried to clear her mind. How long had she slept? It was hotter now than the last time she’d awakened. In her earlier investigation, she’d figured out that she was lying on burlap bags filled with sand. And the place where she was being held was isolated. All she’d heard besides the voices of her captors were the sound of birds and the buzz of insects.
The floor beneath her shook.
“The drug we gave her was more powerful than we thought.”
The man who’d spoken was so close she could smell his breath. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and drew her into a sitting position.
“She’s faking.”
Sophie couldn’t prevent the wince when the blow struck her cheek.
“C’mon, lady. Wake up.” The hands on her shoulders shook her roughly.
“I need her signature on the papers.”
She hadn’t heard that voice before; it didn’t belong to either of her captors. Suddenly, Sophie frowned. Or had she? There was something familiar…
Hands shook her again until her head snapped. She felt the wig being pulled off.
“You fools.”
She knew that voice. Where had she heard it before?
“You’ve got the wrong woman.”
“HOW LOVELY,” Mac said as the limo Lucas had hired wound its way along a drive banked on either side by multicolored flowers. Even as she said the words, she knew they were inadequate. Lavish was closer to the mark. And the place was certainly well guarded. They’d been stopped at a set of heavy iron gates, and a uniformed security guard had verified their invitation by calling the main house.
The buildings where the wine was made were just as Tracker had described them, sleek and modern in structure, their tall gray windows glinting in the afternoon sun. But it was the villa itself that had sparked her comment. The modern, three-story structure of gray wood and glass was large enough to be a small hotel.
“Falcone has some very lucrative business interests,” Lucas said.
Mac blinked. It was the first sentence Lucas had addressed directly to her since they’d been in the diner the night before. He hadn’t even spoken when he’d come to her bed and made love to her.
Made love to her. That’s what it had felt like. Everything he’d done to her on the plane and in the hotel last night had felt as if he was making love. Last night he’d been so tender, so gentle that she’d thought it was a dream at first. And it had been so erotic. No one had ever done anything like that to her. Just thinking about it had her blood heating and her body melting again.
Then he’d left—without a word.
When she’d awakened, the bed had been empty. But his scent was still on her skin and on the pillow next to hers. She’d found him in the suite devouring another huge breakfast with Tracker.
It was then that she’d made herself face facts—a scientist wasn’t worth her weight in salt unless she did that. Whatever they’d shared in the past few days had been just sex to him. He’d agreed to help her with her research, and he desired her. That did not equal love. She’d learned from her research that emotions didn’t have to play much of a role when it came to men and sex.
Of course, she’d made it equally clear at the outset that she neither wanted nor expected anything more than to experiment on him like a guinea pig.
She hadn’t wanted and she hadn’t expected to fall in love with him.
“You know what to do?” Tracker asked from where he sat in the limo.
“Hmm?” Dragging her eyes away from Lucas, she turned to him.
“You know what to do?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she said. A moron could have played the part they’d created for her. She was to be “Sally Maxwell,” a woman Lucas was currently too infatuated with to leave behind at his hotel. Her dress was more conservative than what the Key West “Sally” might have worn. And she wasn’t supposed to do anything to draw attention to herself. But since Falcone had invited her, it wouldn’t cause much speculation if “Sally” was to appear as Lucas’s guest.
And Tracker’s role was to play her brother, Jerry. Turning, Mac checked out Tracker’s disguise again. In her opinion, it was perfect. She barely recognized the man who’d sat across from her in the diner last night. “Jerry” was slighter in build. She would have sworn to it in court. His hair was long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail and he wore a diamond stud in his left ear. She would have guessed he was gay. Not Tracker, but this man who was supposed to be her brother was definitely effeminate in the way he talked and walked.
“At some point, Falcone will want to see me alone,” Lucas said.
“And that’s my cue to mix with the crowd. I’ll introduce myself to men. That’s the kind of friendly girl Sally is,” Mac said.
“While you keep yourself highly visible among the guests, I sneak off to the upper floors and investigate,” Tracker finished as the limo pulled to a stop in front of the house. “The moment I find Sophie, I’ll take her out. Once we’re clear of the estate, I’ll call Lucas.”
Lucas turned to Mac. “I don’t like leaving you alone. As soon as Falcone and I finish our business, I’ll come for you. Until then, stay with the other guests. There’s always the chance that he’ll guess who you really are. The man’s smart. I’m banking on the fact that he’s not likely to try anything where there are witnesses.”
“I don’t see why I can’t slip away to look for Sophie too. We’d have a better chance of finding her.”
“We’ve been over that,” Lucas said. “Falcone will have someone watching all of us. It will be difficult enough for Tracker to—”
Whatever else Lucas would have said was cut off when the driver of the limo opened the door. Tracker slid out first. Mac had one foot on the ground when she caught a glimpse of a tall man with a mane of white hair walking down a shallow set of steps to greet them. She could feel Lucas stiffen behind her just before his arms gripped her shoulders and turned her back toward him.
“Follow orders,” he warned in a low voice. Then without warning, his mouth covered hers. The kiss was hard and thorough. And her response was immediate. Her thoughts seemed to explode, then fade into nothing, drowned out by the beat of her heart. She had to get closer. Her hands moved to his shoulders and into his hair. There was no one, nothing but him.
He released her so suddenly that she blinked. Then he was urging her out of the car. As the man she’d spotted earlier reached them and Lucas made the introductions, she concentrated on breathing and keeping her balance.
“Lucas. Welcome, my dear boy.” Vincent Falcone enveloped Lucas in a hug. “And I completely understand why you brought Ms. Maxwell. I wouldn’
t have left her behind at a hotel either.”
“I knew you’d understand, and since you mentioned her…” Lucas ran his hand down her arm in a lingering, possessive stroke.
He’d only kissed her for show. Everything he was doing was an act to impress Falcone. Pushing the hurt and the anger down, Mac concentrated on Sophie.
“Anyone you wish to bring is welcome. I want you to think of my home as yours.” Turning to Mac, he extended his arm, then waited for her to place her hand on it. “First, Ms. Maxwell, I want you to meet some of my guests. Then while Lucas and I discuss a little business, perhaps you and your brother can enjoy the party?”
She gave him her best “Sally” smile. The sooner he pried Lucas loose from her, the sooner she could look for Sophie. “We’d be delighted.”
“Lucas is a very lucky man,” Falcone said as he led them into the house.
LUCAS HELD HIS GLASS up to the light pouring through the glass windows of Vincent Falcone’s office. From here, he could see the multicolored tents on the lawn, the rows upon rows of vines fanning out beyond and the winery buildings to his far right.
He took a sip of the pale, gold-green liquid.
“What do you think?” Vincent asked.
“It’s quite nice, but I think you didn’t ask me in here to solicit my opinion on your prize-winning chardonnay.”
Vincent sighed. “Do you ever take a break from business?”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that what you invited me in here to discuss? I’d like to conclude it as quickly as possible.”
“Ah, yes. You wish to return to your Sally. A charming girl. Perhaps this will ease your concerns.” Moving to a wall, he pushed a button and the panel of a Renoir print slipped silently out of sight. The clear glass that remained offered a view of the main room of the house.
Tracker was talking to a tall blond woman, Falcone’s hostess for the party. It took him a second longer to find Mac who was laughing at something an older gentleman was saying, her hand on his arm. He could almost hear the sound of her laughter in his ear. When the man leaned down to whisper in hers, he felt a sharp stab in his gut.
