Jared rolled out of bed and padded to the leather jacket he’d dropped onto the sofa earlier. “Something else I picked up on the way to your apartment.”
“Some more stuff from your secret friend?”
“Actually, this is LCR stuff. McCall and I talked about it. We both think it’ll work.”
Looking intrigued and hopeful, Mia asked, “What is it?”
He pulled a small velvet bag from his inside pocket and tossed it to her. She caught it easily with one hand. Withdrawing a small vial of liquid from the pouch, she said, “So I’m going to poison him?”
Hell, he wished it could be that simple. “No, you’re going to knock him out for a while. It’s an experimental drug. We haven’t used it on an op yet, but McCall saw a demonstration and was impressed with the results.”
“What does it do?”
“It’ll knock a person out for up to an hour. You’ll have to be close enough to a chair so he can collapse into it. When he wakes up, he’ll have no idea how much time has passed. He might feel a little light-headed, but that should be the only side effect.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very. Think you can search his files in an hour?”
The relief in her eyes was evident and mirrored his own feelings. The thought of that bastard’s hands on Mia was driving him crazy. And even if it didn’t work as they hoped and things got hairy, he planned to be there with her. The instant Ricard lost consciousness, he would find a way to get inside. With both of them searching together, they would find what they needed. And if they got caught, he’d make sure Mia was okay.
“What happens if I can’t find anything?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Between the two of us, if there’s anything there, we’ll find it.”
“The two of us? What are you talking about? How are you going to help search?”
“As soon as he’s out, I’ll come inside.”
“I haven’t been to his house in a while, but I’m quite sure there’s armed security at his gate, not to mention cameras and sensors everywhere. There’s no way you can get in without being seen.”
“You let me worry about that. I’ll get in.”
“No, Jared, we can’t risk that. If there’s something to be found, I’ll find it.”
“You’re not going to do this alone.”
“If I were another LCR operative, would you have a problem with it?”
“I’d do the same thing for any operative. You’re no different.”
“I see.”
Hell, he’d thought she would be pleased by that. How many times had she told him she was as good as any LCR operative? He had just confirmed that he thought she was.
She got to her feet, wrapping the sheet around herself. “I need to get home and get some sleep.”
“You can sleep here.”
“I want to go home. I can call a taxi.”
“Dammit, I’ll take you home. But we’re agreed on one thing: I’ll be there when you give him the drug. Right?”
“Yes, agreed.” She glanced around the bedroom as if looking for something to wear.
“Your clothes are still on the floor downstairs. I’ll go get them.”
She nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be in the bathroom.”
The door closed before he could say anything else. Hell, he might as well keep his mouth shut, since every time he opened it, he said something wrong. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d gotten wrong this time.
Philippe woke the next morning with one goal clear in his mind: he wanted to move forward with Mia. He was a busy man; courting and seducing were too time-consuming. She knew what his intentions were … by asking her to move in with him, he’d made himself clear. They were attracted to each other, and they were of the same social status. There was no reason to delay the inevitable.
First he would get her here. He would take a long weekend, dismiss all but the most essential servants, and he would charm and entice her. And at the end of the weekend, he would propose. Some might call their romance too quick, but when Philippe saw what he wanted, he took it. He wanted Mia, and he would have her.
As he dressed, he made plans. After she accepted his proposal, they would call her parents. Though he hadn’t seen them in years, he knew they would be thrilled.
Then it would be publicly announced; an engagement party would follow … maybe in two weeks, no more than that. They would marry in early spring. The honeymoon would be somewhere warm and exotic. He wouldn’t allow Mia clothes … he’d have her in the nude, and they could make love on the beach anytime they liked.
As he sipped his morning coffee, he was almost beside himself with excitement. Unable to wait until he finished breakfast, Philippe took his cellphone and placed the call to put his future in motion.
Mia grabbed the phone from her nightstand. Groggy and disoriented, she mumbled, “Hello.”
“My darling, Mia. Did I wake you?”
Her eyes popped open and she came awake immediately. “I can’t think of a better way to wake, Philippe. How are you?”
“I’m excellent but lonely. I’m sorry I had to cancel our plans yesterday. I want to make it up to you.”
“You seemed distracted when you left. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, just some pesky business details I had to take care of. Nothing for you to worry about. I called to see if you’d like to begin moving your things in here and spend a long, casual weekend alone with me.”
Her heart went into overdrive. This was the opportunity they’d been waiting for. And whether Jared was completely on board with it or not, she had to take the shot.
“I would love to, Philippe.”
“Excellent. I’ll have my chauffeur collect you tomorrow, around noon. Bring what you need for the weekend, and then I’ll have someone collect the rest of your things next week.”
“That sounds wonderful. See you then.”
Mia closed the phone and sprang from the bed. She needed coffee to overcome last night’s overindulgence. Incredible sex, followed by a wonderfully intimate conversation and then one single sentence that had shattered everything. Her entire body felt wrung out.
She padded to the kitchen. As she prepared the coffee, she considered how she had reacted to Jared’s comment that she was no different than any other LCR operative. The words had stung, but how could she be surprised by them? They had agreed to a no-commitment sexual relationship while they worked this case. Expecting more from him was fruitless.
In a week, maybe less, this case might well be over, the stolen babies returned to their parents. What would happen to Sandi’s baby? The young woman had no relatives to take the child. Would she get adopted or go into foster care, as Jared had? Her heart hurt when she thought about the sad little boy Jared had been. No wonder he tried to maintain that toughness as an adult. Much of his hard veneer had to do with self-protection. When you get hurt repeatedly, you do everything you can to prevent it from ever happening again.
After a quick visit with her parents in Italy, she would return to Chicago. She missed her life there … her family of pets. She missed her house. Getting back to normal would feel good. These weeks with Jared had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience that she refused to regret. She had known it was a temporary thing. But telling herself that didn’t prevent the painful tightening of her chest or the sting of tears behind her eyes.
The click of the lock told her she didn’t have to call and tell him about her weekend plans with Philippe. Mia met him in the middle of the living room. As he came closer, she tensed, realizing that any apology at all from him would probably have her hurling herself into his arms. She was that weak when it came to him.
He thrust a small package wrapped in silver paper toward her. “Here.”
Another gift? Confused, she unwrapped the box, looked up at him, then back at the box of candy. “What’s this for?”
“To eat, of course.”
“You boug
ht me candy?”
“Yes.” He walked past her and into the kitchen. She heard him open the cabinet and then liquid being poured into a cup. Then she heard pans rattling. He was making breakfast.
The box of chocolates still in her hand, she went to the kitchen and watched him work. She wanted to ask him questions, get inside that tough exterior, but that damn wall surrounded him again, and this time, it seemed even more impenetrable.
Hoping she could think of something to break through the ice later, she gave him the news she’d woken up to this morning.
“Philippe called and asked me to come stay the weekend at his house.”
His head shot up. “When did he call?”
“About half an hour ago.”
His jaw tight, he looked down at the bowl of eggs he was beating. “What else did he say?”
“Told me to bring over enough of my things for a long weekend and then someone would pick up the rest of my stuff next week. I need to go shopping. I don’t have anything remotely appropriate.”
“We need to go over our plans.”
“And we will, but I have nothing suitable for a casual weekend with a man like Philippe.”
The tic in his jaw told her he didn’t agree.
“You have a problem with me going shopping?”
“Just seems damn stupid to be going shopping when we’re trying to catch a murdering baby snatcher.”
There was nothing she could say to that stupid, asinine statement. Turning away, she headed for her bedroom. A quick, hot shower and then she would leave him to his nastiness. She was at her bedroom door when he said, “Breakfast will be ready in about five minutes.”
Instead of answering verbally, she swung the door closed, satisfied that the distinctive slam was answer enough.
A smile twitched at Jared’s mouth as he poured the egg mixture into the skillet. The sizzle reminded him of Mia. She had a volatile temper, one that could be set to sizzle with a single word. He’d hurt her feelings last night, and she’d closed up on him. When he’d walked through the door this morning, that wounded look had still been there. Setting off her temper had seemed the right way to go.
Odd that he argued so much with Mia. In other romantic relationships, including his marriage, the disagreements had been nonexistent. The only time Lara had gotten angry with him was the day their marriage ended. And even then it had been a controlled anger.
When Mia was angry, she didn’t hide behind a passive-aggressive façade. She let him know in no uncertain terms why she was angry and how she felt. He liked that about her.
He slid the omelet onto a plate just as she emerged from her bedroom. She could get ready faster than any female he’d ever known.
“Breakfast is ready.”
She marched toward him, the determined glint in her eyes telling him she was still angry. “I don’t want breakfast.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
She continued her furious stare for several seconds, as if waiting for something. Hell if he knew what that something was. Heaving an explosive sigh, she whirled around and stalked out of her apartment without another word.
Jared released his own explosive sigh, the sound echoing through the now empty apartment. Maybe she did need to go shopping, because her temper obviously hadn’t abated.
His enjoyment of his meal was greatly diminished. Instead of sitting at the table, he stood over the counter and demolished the omelet. Though once his stomach was full, for some reason, he still felt as if there were an emptiness there.
Disgusted with his own sour mood, he cleaned up the few dishes he’d dirtied. When he was finished, he found himself in the living room without any clear idea of what to do next. How long would Mia be gone? Calling and asking was probably not a good idea. She’d just hang up on him, if she even answered at all.
Yesterday’s newspapers on the coffee table caught his attention. He gathered them up and stuffed them in the garbage. The place really could use a good cleaning. Maybe when Mia came back, a clean apartment would put her in a better mood.
Even though it wasn’t a job-related task, he was glad to have a plan. In minutes he’d located the vacuum cleaner, cloths for dusting, and cleansers for the bathroom. His mind on his task, Jared set to work.
Mia stood at her apartment door. Three hours of shopping had been pure drudgery. Not only because she was buying clothes to entice a creepazoid criminal to sleep with her, but because she was still so furious with Jared. How could one man be so intelligent and so stupid, too?
She told herself it really shouldn’t matter. Soon this case would be over, and she’d probably never see him again. What was the point of getting angry? Mia refused to consider that anger was only a by-product of the real issue. Jared had hurt her feelings, and the only people who could do that were people she cared about deeply. Caring about Jared beyond what they had agreed upon was impossible.
As she was about to insert the key into the lock, it was pulled open for her. Mia swallowed a gasp. She’d figured Jared would have left long ago. He’d probably been waiting for her to come back so they could talk about the weekend ahead.
“Looks like you had some luck.”
Mia walked into her apartment. “When I’m on a mission to buy, I usually find what I need.” She was in the middle of the room when she recognized the fragrance of lemon-scented furniture polish blended with some kind of disinfectant cleaner. She turned and stared at him. “You cleaned my apartment.”
His expression bland, Jared took the bags from her and carried them to the bedroom. “I didn’t have anything else to do.” Seconds later he returned. “You ever get anything to eat?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Another shrug. “I guess.”
“Have you ever apologized for anything in your life?”
The flinty look in his eyes would have made anyone else melt. Mia wasn’t immune to his anger, but she knew without a doubt that Jared would never hurt her physically. Then the anger changed … became something else. An unutterable and deep sadness entered his eyes, and she suddenly had the strong urge to apologize to him instead. She knew the next words weren’t going to be the hurtful ones of last night. These words were going to break her heart for a whole new reason.
“The last time I apologized to someone, I couldn’t move for a week.”
Despite herself, she couldn’t control the gasp that left her mouth. “What happened?”
“My first foster home … I stole an apple from the fruit bowl. Mrs. Henderson caught me. Told me if I said I was sorry, she’d let it go.” He grimaced. “After my parents died, I developed a really bad stutter. I couldn’t get the words out.”
“My God, she beat you because of that?”
“No, first she almost killed Melody.”
“Who’s Melody?”
“She was my foster sister … a year older than me. She’d been at the house for a few months before I got there. She knew the ropes and tried to tell me how to behave. I didn’t listen.”
“What happened to Melody?”
“She tried to get me to say I was sorry. When I couldn’t, Mrs. Henderson beat her.”
“Oh, Jared,” Mia whispered.
“I finally got it out … screamed that I was sorry, that I would never do it again, but she beat her anyway.”
Unable to not know the rest, Mia said, “And she was hurt badly?”
A smile almost twitched at one corner of his mouth. “I thought she was dead. Turned out she was faking unconsciousness. Said she knew the woman would leave her alone if she thought she was badly injured.”
Already knowing, Mia asked, “And then Mrs. Henderson turned her anger to you?”
“Yeah … apologies be damned. Beat the shit out of me. I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. That was the last time I apologized for anything. Ever.”
Her chest constricted and a lump of emotion made swallowing impossible. How could she have missed this? The breakfasts, the gifts, the bub
ble baths, the clean apartment. He couldn’t say the words but did everything he could to show her he was sorry.
It took every bit of her willpower to stay put and say coolly, “I like chocolate-covered strawberries.”
“What?”
“I figure you’re going to be pissing me off several more times before this case is over. Might as well put in an order for what I would enjoy.”
He jerked her into his arms, and then his mouth was on hers. She didn’t know if this was in appreciation for not asking questions or relief that she wasn’t demanding an apology. As his mouth ate at hers, Mia knew it didn’t matter. For however long she had with this man, she vowed, she would enjoy the experience and relish the pleasure. It would be over soon enough.
Ricard Foundation headquarters
“Set up a board meeting a week from Tuesday. The architect for the new wing at Our Sister of Mercy will be presenting his final plans.”
His assistant hurriedly scribbled notes. Philippe had been issuing orders for the past half hour. Since he was taking a long weekend, he wanted to get everything urgent out of the way. Total relaxation and pleasure were his only agenda items this weekend. By the time Monday came, he’d be engaged.
“And reserve a very private table for two at Les Montés for next Wednesday night, eight o’clock.”
“Very good, Monsieur Ricard.”
“Also, I have a jeweler coming in at one this afternoon. Please show him to my private office and have him wait. I may be late, depending upon my eleven o’clock meeting.”
“Oui, monsieur.”
Philippe’s mind raced with all the things he needed to do. He had described the ring he envisioned to his favorite jeweler this morning and had been assured that there were several to choose from. Normally he would want a one-of-a-kind piece, but since he needed to tie everything up this weekend, he would have to settle for convenience over uniqueness. A whirlwind romance had a tendency to stifle creativity.
The buzzer on his desk, alerting him that he had a call, interrupted his thought process. As a rule, when he was meeting with his assistant, his secretary wouldn’t dare disturb him, much less put calls through. The caller couldn’t be Kinsey; the man would call only on the disposable phone he purchased once a week.
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