The Gilded Cuff

by Smith, Lauren

  “Don’t you dare pity Cody. I spent a fortune building him a suite of rooms connected to his office. He has a king-sized bed, a private kitchen and a bathroom to rival mine. Depending on his mood, he calls it his command center, or the bat cave.”

  Emery rolled over and reached for the tea, pouring two cups and handing one to her. She drank it gratefully. The chamomile tea was spiked with honey and deliciously smooth going down her throat.

  “Bat cave, huh? Oh boy. How on earth did you find him?”

  The smile that stole across Emery’s lips seemed genuine, so very different from the practiced, seductive grin she’d come to expect from him. “I caught the rascal trying to hack my personal private computer system here at the house. He thought I had sensitive information about my company. He hoped to get trade secrets and patents. I do have sensitive information, but not the kind he was hoping to score. Luckily, I was a few steps ahead of him and I pinpointed his location and sent Hans to retrieve him.”

  Sophie raised her eyes to Emery’s, secretly amused to find that she’d been staring at his lips. He cupped her cheek as he talked. The movement was natural, tender, and sensual at the same time. His thumb circled her chin as though the touch reassured him.

  “What happened when Hans found him?”

  “Hans got him here no worse for wear. My bodyguard is primarily a preserver of life, not a taker of one, and he has no interest in beating anyone to a bloody pulp, unless they deserve it, of course. But once he got here, I sat him down and we had a little talk. I straightened him out.”

  “How did you do that?”

  Emery took her empty teacup set it on the table behind him. Then he angled her body, rolling her onto her back so he could lean over her, pressing his chest to hers. He kissed the tip of her nose then her cheeks, and then moved down to her lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth for a slow decadent nibble. Sophie arched up into that erotic bite and tried to kiss him. He laughed huskily and pulled back, depriving her of the pleasure.

  “I told Cody that he could work for me, rather than against me. He’d not only have a life of luxury but he’d get me, too.”

  Sophie struggled to focus on his words. Her hands settled on his chest, feeling the slow flex of his muscles as he shifted.

  “I don’t understand. Get you how?”

  His eyes went dark, like rich chocolate with caramel swirls. “When I take someone in, I accept them. It’s permanent. If Cody agreed to join forces with me, I’d play Superman to his Batman. A justice league, if you will. He was raised in the foster system. Trust doesn’t come naturally to him, but he realized the depth of what I offered, and he agreed. He’s been with me and Hans for the last eight years.”

  “How long has Hans been with you?” She regretted the question instantly, as pain ripped across his face.

  “Hans has been with me for twenty-five years. My father hired him. The day after I came home, Hans showed up in my bedroom at the crack of dawn and didn’t leave me alone for a second.” Emery found an errant lock of her hair and curled it around his finger, staring fixedly at the strands. “I used to hate him.”

  “Why did you hate him?” Sophie rubbed her cheek against his knuckles, like a cat hungry for attention.

  “He was there because I couldn’t take care of myself. Seeing him was a reminder of my weakness. But after a few years, I was older and wiser. I realized he was there to protect me because I couldn’t protect myself against forces that were unforeseeable. Whoever took me as a child would have succeeded no matter how strong I was. The numbers were against me. Once I accepted that certain scenarios had unavoidable outcomes, I began to value Hans on a whole new level. He kept me out of situations that could lead to such unavoidable outcomes. Friendship was inevitable.”

  “I like that,” Sophie replied without thinking. Blame it on the drugging kisses, she thought.

  “Like what?” He raised a quizzical brow.

  “That you value loyalty and friendship. I don’t know too many people who are like that these days.” Unbidden thoughts of Rachel snuck past her barriers, like clever spies slipping beneath barbed-wire fences.

  Rachel grinning, offering Sophie her pinkie. “Pinky swear, Sophie. It’s sacred, you know.” Her own pinkie curled around Rachel’s, locking them together. Both girls laughing, the secret lighting up Rachel’s eyes.

  “Tell me something about your brother,” she asked. Something in her tone must have gotten through to him because the hungry look in his eyes turned sad. “Please tell me,” she encouraged.

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “Something happy. Something sweet.” She put a fist in her mouth to stifle a yawn. Exhaustion battled her desire to stay awake.

  “Happy?” His brows drew together; his perplexed expression cracked something deep in her chest. It was as though he hadn’t thought of happiness in a long time.

  She waited, holding her breath. He had to remember something happy, something good. During the darkest hours of her life, she survived on her happy memories, bathing in them as if they were sunlight.

  “Every Sunday morning during the summer, we had tennis lessons. My father was convinced one of us would be a Wimbledon champion someday.” His voice was rough at first, as if speaking pained him. The details must have been buried deep within him because he paused, closed his eyes, and after a moment began again.

  “Fenn didn’t like our instructor. He was a grouchy old man named Mr. Belkin, but he was quite the teacher. Still, as boys, Fenn and I didn’t see the value in his lessons. Fenn used to get fed up with running laps around the courts. It was Fenn’s idea for me to distract Belkin, and then Fenn would get out his penknife and puncture all of the new tennis balls. Every time Belkin hit a ball toward us, it dropped flat to the ground like a rock.” Emery laughed softly, remembered joy lighting his eyes like distant stars.

  Sophie tilted her face up, entranced by the sudden change. He looked boyish, mischievous.

  “God, Belkin used to get so mad. He couldn’t get a single ball to clear the net.” Emery sniggered like a devious child. But all too soon the pleasure of that moment vanished like mist over a field as dawn gave way to morning.

  She could almost see the walls closing around him, like metal gates slamming down. He was shutting her out.

  “Hey!” she slapped his t-shirt-clad chest.

  “What?” he growled back.

  She nearly smiled, feeling like a small terrier barking at a Bengal tiger. It was only a matter of time before he made a meal out of her.

  “You’re shutting me out,” she said. “I thought that was the bargain…I surrender, you talk. So far you’ve been all Mr. Grabby Hands, and I’ve gotten nothing in return.”

  His eyes turned that eerie shade of burnt umber, like tree bark in winter. Dead and cold. “We mustn’t forget your story. Are you planning on a speech when my life’s greatest tragedy wins you the Pulitzer?” His comment was a poison-tipped dart thrust deep between her ribs and not easily removed.

  “You don’t have to be so cruel.” Sophie couldn’t believe how much his words hurt. She rolled away from him, knocking his arm away to separate them.

  Emery got up from the bed and headed toward the door. Sophie couldn’t help looking him over. He was delectable in his black t-shirt and gray flannel pajama bottoms, which hung low on his hips. Even as angry as she was with him, she still wanted him to come back and put his hands on her. Despair lodged in her throat, nearly choking her. It wasn’t fair of him to get mad at her for doing her job. She’d agreed to the bargain; he owed her. It wasn’t as though she’d demanded details, or asked how Fenn died. No, she’d only asked that he not shut her out. Did that make her some sort of villain?

  The soft snick of a light switch and the instant darkness in the room was almost as surprising as when Emery returned to the bed, drew back the covers and touched her shoulder.

  “Get in.”

  She threw him a disgruntled look and was all for ignoring him until he
swatted her ass.

  “Mr. Grabby Hands has issued you an order.”

  Ahh, Emery, the dom, was back. Sophie bit off the caustic remark that singed the tip of her tongue and crawled under the sheets. Even the man’s bedding made her hungry.

  He joined her in the bed, and before she could protest he’d curled an arm around her waist and dragged her back into his arms. Her body spooned perfectly against his. It was impossible not to shiver when he placed a kiss on the back of her neck and nuzzled her ear.

  “I give you permission to sleep.” There was a ghost of a laugh in his whisper.

  She bristled. “Thank you, your highness.”

  Silent laughter shook her body from behind. He bit the lobe of her left ear and electric pulses shot straight to her clit.

  “You’re most welcome, my dear.”

  She had every intention of giving him a snarky reply but when it came right down to it, she was too tired. She’d get him in the morning, though. She’d get him good.

  * * *

  Emery held Sophie in his arms and knew the exact moment she fell asleep. She fit against him perfectly, her rounded bottom snug against his groin, her hair teasing his nose and cheeks, the scent of it faintly floral.

  So sweet. He’d never known someone like her. With that button nose and her bright eyes and pink cheeks. Most of all, he was mesmerized by the hungry look she got whenever she watched him, thinking he couldn’t see. It did something funny to him. Rather than sleep with her and show her the door, he wanted…her companionship. He wanted to harness her desire for him and use it to give her blinding pleasure. But there was so much more. With her, he didn’t feel that need to be reclusive, to hide away from the world.

  Insanity. This woman was driving him mad. He almost felt free enough to leave the house, to go into town with Hans watching his back.

  Frowning, he pulled her closer, even though he knew that come tomorrow he’d have to push her away. He mustn’t let her get too close. She was a stranger with every intention of shining a bright light on his greatest tragedy, his greatest failure. He couldn’t forget that for even one second.

  Chapter 7

  SEARCH DOGS AND LOCAL VOLUNTEERS FROM SEVERAL PROMINENT FAMILIES IN THE COMMUNITY CONDUCTED A DILIGENT SEARCH OF THE VAST LOCKWOOD MANSION AND THE EXTENSIVE GROUNDS OF THE ESTATE, LOOKING FOR ANY SIGN OF THE BOYS OR THE MEN WHO MAY HAVE TAKEN THEM. POLICE BELIEVE THE SUSPECTS MAY HAVE HAD A VEHICLE WAITING CLOSE BY AND USED IT TO ESCAPE THE ESTATE MORE QUICKLY, LEAVING NO TRAIL FOR DOGS OR THE AUTHORITIES TO FOLLOW.

  —New York Times, June 10, 1990

  Cody Larson propped his feet on the edge of his desk and steepled his fingers. The five thirty-inch HD screens in front of him showed key locations in the Lockwood estate. The one he was staring at with the most interest was the screen showing Emery’s bedroom. Cody had witnessed the entire exchange between his employer and the hot little journalist. Emery had probably forgotten he’d had that fan camera installed years ago. There were so many cameras in the house and Cody only watched a few key points. Emery’s bedroom was hardly a target for easy access by intruders and no one ever worried about privacy because Emery had never brought a woman home before. Cody knew it was only a matter of time before Emery remembered and would have that camera removed.

  Cody glanced at the thick file he’d prepared for Emery on Sophie Ryder. It had been a little surprising for his boss to ask for a background check on the journalist, but he couldn’t blame Emery. Yet Emery hadn’t yet asked for Cody to bring the report to him. He and the woman were far too busy cuddling like a pair of freaking bunnies. It was so unlike the Bossman to cuddle. Cody had seen enough over the years on his monitors to know that Emery didn’t bring women home and he sure as hell didn’t seem like the type of man who would snuggle with them.

  The door to Cody’s lavish office opened and Hans Brummer, Emery’s personal bodyguard, strolled in carrying a suitcase. At fifty-one, Hans didn’t look a day over thirty-five, yet it seemed like he had a hundred years of experience. The man could read a room quicker than anyone and point out threats and exit strategies immediately.

  Cody nodded in greeting as Hans took a seat next to him at the large desk.

  Technical gadgets were strewn over the desk like shiny space junk on a distant moon’s surface. More than one device had been stripped of its motherboard or had wires thrusting out like multicolored intestines. Cody loved delving into each piece and figuring out what made it tick. Once he’d figured out their technical mysteries, though, he lost interest.

  The bodyguard set the suitcase on a table and pulled up a chair next to Cody. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to stare at the screen showing Emery and the journalist. He flicked his glance toward Cody briefly before returning it to the screen. Hans’s brown eyes were so dark they were nearly black, and they never missed a single detail.

  “You finish the perimeter check?” Cody asked.

  “Perimeters clear, but…”

  Hans scrubbed one palm over his jaw, eyes still on the bossman lying in his bed like some giant tiger with a housecat tucked between his paws.

  Cody didn’t like the sound of that. “‘But’?”

  Hans was one scary guy. He’d kicked Cody’s ass six ways from Sunday when they’d first met. Of course, that probably had to do with the fact that he’d tried to pull a gun on the bodyguard. Stupid move, that was. His body still hurt from just thinking about what had happened afterward. If Hans was edgy, that meant serious shit was going down.

  “I found a size eleven hiking boot print by the main gate, only ten feet from the girl’s prints.”

  “Just one print?” After a few years in Hans’s company, Cody knew what that meant. The man out there had concealed signs of his passage pretty damned well. “So the guy’s a pro. What are our options?”

  Hans shut his eyes, rubbed his closed lids with his thumb and forefinger before he sat up sharply, alert once more. “We wait. No need to worry Emery.” He picked up the file on the journalist. “So what did you dig up on her?”

  “Believe it or not, this girl has led an apple pie life. Except for one incident in her childhood, she’s squeaky clean. Boring, in fact. Well, besides her current job, that is. She’s had a few nasty run-ins with criminals she was trying to write about, but she’s proven useful to the police and solved a lot of cases.”

  “Really?” Hans’s brows drew together. “No wonder she fascinates Emery. What happened in her past?”

  Cody hesitated, then flipped open the file and pointed to one article.

  Hans picked up the printed copy of the fading article. “Girl witnesses abduction of friend— No help to police in identifying suspect.” He faced Cody, his mouth a grim line. “You understand what this means?”

  Cody’s mind was blank. “Not really. She saw her friend get taken by some perv and the police never recovered a body or made any arrests.”

  With a weary sigh, Hans returned his gaze to the monitor on Emery’s bedroom.

  “She wants more than his story. She wants answers he doesn’t have.”

  “Thank you, Captain Cryptic. Care to explain?”

  Hans flashed a smile.

  “I mean, she thinks that by talking to Emery, she’ll work out her own issues with her past, but it’s not so simple. Emery isn’t ready to move on yet and any answers he gives her won’t help.”

  “How do you know all of this stuff?” Cody asked.

  “I have a Masters in Psych from Princeton.”

  Cody’s feet dropped to the floor. “No you don’t. I ran an extensive background check on you after Emery hired me.”

  A corner of Hans’s mouth lifted in a smile.

  “I have three aliases you still don’t know about.”

  Cody’s jaw dropped and Hans laughed as he got to his feet.

  “I need to check Ms. Ryder’s bags for bugs and then I’m turning in. Don’t watch that cam too closely. Emery would be displeased to discover you’ve turned his priv
ate life into a skin flick. He’ll have your head for it if he finds out.”

  Cody snorted. “He’s the one who installed the ceiling fan camera, not me.”

  “He did that to protect himself, not to give you a show.”

  “Wait a sec. Did you bring her phone?” Cody asked.

  Hans slapped the slender cell phone into Cody’s palm and he quickly plugged it into his computer, copying all of her data for later inspection. They had to be careful and thorough when checking out anyone Emery got involved with. If there was a fox in the henhouse, they needed to know about it before something bad went down. When the phone’s memory was copied, he handed it back to the bodyguard who pocketed it. Hans picked up the suitcase and slipped into the hallway and Cody turned back to the monitors. He focused on the outdoor camera footage, and started scanning the video feed from when Sophie had been by the gate. Maybe he could see the owner of the single footprint.

  Hans was right, though. No need to worry the Bossman. They’d had scares before—minor trespasses—and each time they’d dealt with it quietly, keeping Emery in the dark. He was too on edge to deal with the idea of people getting through his defenses. After what had happened when Emery was a kid, Cody couldn’t blame him.

  * * *

  Emery awoke to the sound of a cell phone ringing. Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty Waltz.

  Lovely, haunting. The melody for a woman lost in a dreamless sleep. Very Sophie.

  He rolled onto his back, surprised to find that Sophie moved with him. In the morning light he could see that the tension he’d seen earlier on her face had faded during sleep. He fought off the sudden urge to smooth a thumb over those spots, touch her soft skin and kiss her until she awoke.

  The cell phone continued to ring and Emery finally disentangled himself from Sophie, who continued to sleep like the dead. He slipped out of bed, careful to tuck her back under the covers before he found her clutch purse by her luggage. Hans must have finished his sweep for bugs and slipped the bags in here sometime during the night.