Chapter 11
Los Angeles
Basil cradled his head in his hands. He’d taken enough painkillers to stop his heart, yet the vise around his temples persisted. It had been years since his last migraine, and this time it was back with a vengeance. He knew the blinding headache was the combination of a mother of a hangover and stress.
First it was Justin and now Camille. Not only had he become a loser. He was now a sucker. He’d allowed himself get pulled in by a woman with a pretty face and perfect body; a woman who’d gotten him to forget any woman he’d ever slept with.
He raised his head, staring at the police detective who wanted answers—answers he was unable to give him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
The veteran homicide detective stared at the music executive, seeing grief etched into the man’s features. He’d had enough experience and had interrogated countless people, studying and reading their expressions and body language. And after more than twenty-five years of law enforcement know-how he realized Basil Irvine was in pain. However, he wasn’t certain whether the pain was physical or emotional.
“How close were you to Miss Nelson?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?” Basil snapped.
Detective Harrison did not drop his eyes. “I just need to know if your relationship with Miss Nelson went beyond the boardroom.”
“If you’re asking if I saw Camille outside the office, then the answer is yes. We went out to dinner and I’d occasionally stop by her apartment to discuss work. If you’re going to ask if she ever came to my house, then the answer is no.”
“Were you intimate with Miss Nelson?”
A feral smile parted Basil’s full lips. “No,” he lied smoothly. “I got involved with one of my employees years ago and it cost me my marriage. I swore I’d never do that again, and I haven’t.”
“We were told that you visited Miss Nelson’s apartment on the day she went missing?”
“Who told you?”
“Just answer the question, Mr. Irvine.”
There came a swollen pause as Basil continued to massage his temples. “When she didn’t come to work I called her cell and then her home, but both calls went directly to voice mail. I waited until late afternoon, and when I still hadn’t heard from her I went to her apartment, thinking maybe she’d taken ill or she’d had an accident. I rang her bell, knocked on her door and when I didn’t get an answer I left.”
“Did you ask the building superintendent if he’d seen her?” Danny Harrison knew the answer to his question, yet he wanted to see if Basil was going to lie. One lie meant he would have to cover that one up with another lie. And when he did he would spring the trap, ensnaring the music mogul. Instinct told him not only did Irvine know about Camille Nelson’s murder but he was also behind the attempt on Ana Cole’s life.
Irvine’s rise in the music industry hadn’t been without controversy. There were rumblings about breach of contracts, artists not receiving their royalty payments, and there was still talk that it had been Basil and not his brother, Webb, who’d stomped a man to death in retaliation for the attack on Webb. The CEO of Slow Wyne was delusional if he believed himself untouchable.
“Yes, I did. He told me he hadn’t seen her in several days. When I asked him if he would check on her he told me the only time he was authorized to enter a tenant’s apartment was in an emergency. He told me just because she hadn’t come to work he didn’t believe that was an emergency.”
Danny glanced over Basil’s shoulder at the wall of glass behind the large, imposing man. “What did you do after that?”
“I gave the man my card and told him to call me if he’d heard from Camille.”
His gaze shifted back to Basil. “Did you think something had happened to Miss Nelson?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking at that time, Detective Harrison. All I knew was that an employee hadn’t come to work. She hadn’t given any indication she was sick, and she hadn’t put in for vacation or a personal day.”
“Are you always this involved with your employees? You visit their homes when they don’t call or come into work?”
A rush of color darkened Basil’s face. He’d had enough. “This interrogation is over, Detective. Now, I want you to get the hell out of my office and go and find who murdered my executive assistant.”
The detective pushed to his feet. “I’ll be back, Mr. Irvine.”
Basil didn’t bother to stand. “If or when you are it better be with a warrant for my arrest, because I’m not going to answer any more questions without my lawyer present. I’m certain you can find your way out.”
“If I have to come back, then it’ll be with a search warrant.” Resting his hands on the marble-topped desk, Danny gave Basil a sly wink. “I know you’re not telling me everything and that you know more about this than you’re letting on. Have a good day, Mr. Irvine.”
Basil’s eyes darkened until there were no visible traces of gray. “I hope you’re not threatening me, Detective Harrison. All I have to do is make one phone call and you’ll find yourself back on the street directing traffic at a school crossing.”
Danny stood up straight, sniffing. “I smell something. And it’s fear. Make all the calls you want, but rest assured that if it’s not me then it’s going to be another cop that will bring you down. Good day, Mr. Irvine.”
Basil was still sitting in the same position staring at the space where the detective had been when Webb entered his office. He flopped down on the chair the cop had vacated minutes before. Webb tented his fingers. When the detective had called, asking to speak to Basil, he’d retreated into an adjoining office, activating an audio and video feed.
“He’s just blowing smoke.”
Basil closed his eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“I can’t believe you let him get to you.”
“He was insinuating I knew who murdered Camille.”
“He wasn’t insinuating anything, brother. He suspects you and Camille had more than a boss-employee relationship and maybe the two of you had a falling out and either you killed her or had someone kill her.”
Basil opened his eyes, glaring at Webb. “I didn’t kill her.”
“I know that and you know that. I know you’re broken up over the girl, but you have to let it go.”
“I can’t let it go, Webb.”
“Why not? She’s no different from the others.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Camille was different.”
Webb slowly shook his head. “She was a hooker and a hustler,” he said, enunciating each word. “And don’t ever forget that, brother. Who knows who she crossed in her past, and she paid for it with her life. Why don’t you take a couple of weeks off, go somewhere and kick back. Call up some of your well-heeled friends who own places in the Caribbean and ask if you can chill out there until you’re feeling better.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think, Basil. Do it!”
Training his cold stare on the scars along the left side of Webb’s face, Basil wondered when his younger brother had become the more dominant of the two. Had it come during Webb’s incarceration when he’d had to develop his survival skills? However, with the blinding pain in his head and behind his eyes he wasn’t equipped to verbally spar with Webb.
“Who’s going to run Slow Wyne?”
The keloids that had ruined the handsome face of the slender, dark-skinned man in the charcoal-gray, pinstriped tailored suit looked like blisters whenever Webb smiled. Webb had prided himself on his good looks until another man who’d made it known that he would pay for getting his sister pregnant had followed through on his threat when he waylaid Webb and went to work carving up his face. Basil had come to his rescue, stomping the man to death. Webb told the police he’d killed the man in self-defense, but his plea fell on deaf ears because the prosecutor claimed he’d continued to kick the man even after he died, resulting in an unrecognizable corpse.
/> Even as he lay bleeding, while cradling the flesh hanging from his face like raw meat, Webb would never forget the sight and sounds of Basil kicking his attacker. It was as if his older brother had become temporarily insane. He knew women would never look at him in the same way they’d done as an adolescent, but that no longer mattered. He’d sworn a vow never to sleep with another woman as long as he lived.
“I will,” Webb stated quietly.
The two brothers engaged in what had become a stare-down. “Okay,” Basil finally agreed. “But first I have to tie up a few things.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“No more than a week. I don’t want to leave now, because the police will believe I’m running because I have something to hide.”
There was another prolonged pause. “You’re right,” Webb said. “Maybe you should wait until that pig stops rooting around. Better yet, wait until they close the investigation.”
“Have you heard anything since Serenity closed down?” Basil asked.
“Not yet. What I can’t believe is that they would close their offices without setting up somewhere else. And where the hell is Ana Cole? It’s as if she’s dropped off the face of the earth.”
Basil shook his head, groaning aloud. He couldn’t even move his head with the stabbing pain making it virtually impossible to think. “I’m going to contact my inside person for an update.”
Webb exhaled audibly. He knew Basil was playing a very dangerous game of revenge where there could only be one winner and one loser. His responsibility was to make certain his brother would not end up the loser.
“Be careful, brother. We can’t afford to slip up now.”
* * *
“Come on, baby. I won’t let you fall.”
Ana tightened her hold on Jacob’s hand. They’d taken a golf cart to explore the west side of the island, and during their exploration they’d discovered water flowing down the mountains creating a waterfall that spilled into a lagoon. Jacob stepped into the crystal-clear water, and then swung her down beside him. The lagoon was at least five feet in depth and spanned the length and width of an Olympic swimming pool.
The heat of the brilliant Caribbean sun offset the chill of the water as Ana floated on her back, staring up at the canopy of ferns, vines, leaves and exotic flowers growing wildly and creating their private Garden of Eden. She watched Jacob duck under the water and swim laps. Ana joined him, matching him stroke for stroke. Her competitiveness surfaced and she streaked through the water like a colorful fish, Jacob in close pursuit.
She managed to make it to the opposite end, touching the bank, and before she could turn around Jacob was several strokes ahead of her. Seconds later it was a body’s length and he stood, waiting and grinning when she finally caught up with him.
Gathering her close, Jacob anchored a hand under her chin, raising her face for a hot, explosive kiss that sucked the breath from her laboring lungs. Ana anchored her arms under his shoulders, holding on to to him as she went on tiptoe. Heat exploded inside her like an incendiary device. She was on fire! The kiss was nothing like the ones they’d shared before.
Jacob’s hands moved up under Ana’s shoulders, holding her aloft while his tongue slipped between her lips, suckling and tasting the sweetness of her mouth. He kissed her with all the passion he could summon for a woman, a passion he’d withheld from every woman he’d known and kissed.
It’d been three days since he and Ana had come to Cannamore; three days in which he’d become the husband of a woman who’d ensnared him in a web of longing that had him dreaming about her, lusting for her, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was falling for Ana—hard.
It had taken less than a week for Jacob to conclude Ana wasn’t the spoiled little rich girl who pouted if she didn’t get her way. She was unpretentious, generous, opinionated and wasn’t prone to mincing words. And she wasn’t into head games—something he truly detested. She also made him laugh—something he hadn’t done enough.
He wanted to resent her intrusion into what he thought of as his predictable lifestyle. Whenever he woke each morning he knew exactly what he had to do and what was expected of him. That all changed the moment Ana walked out of the Marathon airport and into his life. Either he had changed or the woman with whom he went to bed and woke with had changed him. There had never been a time since his first sexual encounter that whenever he shared a bed with a woman he’d always shared her body. The exception was his wife.
Jacob hadn’t begun to think of himself as a husband and Ana his wife until he went online and queried Diego about his supposed marriage to his cousin. Diego’s reply came within minutes: Rumors that Serenity has folded have gone viral. Jason is scheduled to give a formal press conference next week about the relocation. When asked about Ana’s absence, he hinted she’s away with her boyfriend. Enjoy your honeymoon.
He hadn’t shown Ana the email, but told her what Jason had said about her unavailability. When she’d complained that fabricating a marriage was definitely over-the-top, he’d countered that everything they did had to look real. Newshounds were usually relentless when it came to uncovering the truth.
Not only was he enjoying his honeymoon, but also his wife. Ana had gotten up earlier that morning, made breakfast, then joined him in bed while they ate pancakes, a fruit cup with diced mango, pineapple and freshly brewed coffee. He knew he could very easily get used to eating breakfast in bed with her.
It was with extreme reluctance that he released her mouth. Water had pasted her hair to her scalp and spiked her lashes. His gaze lingered on her thoroughly kissed, lush lips. Not only did he want to make love to Ana. He wanted to consummate their marriage.
Ana’s eyes met Jacob’s. Droplets clung to his bearded face. She felt the muscles in his biceps tighten when he lowered her until her toes touched the bottom. Her entire body was shaking and it had nothing to do with the cold water. Closing her eyes against his intense stare, she thought of the words that lay in her heart.
It hadn’t mattered she’d only known him a week. It didn’t matter that their marriage was not only arranged by a third party, but was also one of convenience. Here on Cannamore Cay she didn’t have to hide from a nameless, faceless assassin but could dream about a future. Stepping away from Serenity had offered her a new perspective of a world beyond music. It was a world where she could fall in love and dream of marriage and children.
Living on the private island as Mrs. Jacob Jones was nothing short of fantasy. Falling in love with him would become an emotional disaster. Ana knew everything would end, including her marriage, once she returned to the States. She and Jacob had been married three days, and even after they annulled the union it still would exceed Britney Spears’ celebrated fifty-five-hour nuptials.
“I want to go back now,” she whispered.
Needing no further prompting, Jacob swung her up into his arms, carefully navigating the rocks until he placed her on the seat in the golf cart. Reaching for a pair of shorts, he pulled them on over his swim trunks. Ana realized they’d spent most of their time outside their cottage to resist the temptation of making love. After hours in the sun, swimming in the ocean and walks along the beach they were too exhausted to do anything but sleep once they retired for bed. Other than breakfast, they’d taken their meals in the restaurant with the resort’s guests.
She didn’t know how long she would be able to hold out not asking Jacob to make love to her. How long she would be able to deal with her own battle of self-restraint and survive without a meltdown. She kept telling herself that Jacob was a stranger in her bed, one who’d vowed to protect her, but who was going to protect her heart if and when she found herself in too deep?
What Ana felt and was beginning to feel for Jacob had nothing to do with appreciation. He was a constant reminder of what she’d denied because of the two men who’d forced her to put up a barrier to keep all men at a distance. Even her ongoing excuse that she was too busy for a relationship was beg
inning to wear thin.
It was his body heat, the now familiar feel of his arm resting over her waist, and the clean masculine smell of his freshly showered body that lingered with her even in her sleep. The erotic dream hadn’t returned, because the man she wanted was her husband.
Her gaze shifted to the band on Jacob’s left hand. “How much is Diego paying you to pretend we’re married?”
Jacob maneuvered the cart over a grassy surface. Seconds ticked while he struggled not to lose his temper. “I thought we’d passed the stage where we’d no longer talk about money.”
“We have.”
“Then why did you bring it up, Ana?”
“I...it’s just that when Henri gave you the license and the rings it was if you were expecting them. I know you told me Diego wanted to explain my disappearance, but I never would’ve thought you’d agree to a marriage of convenience.”
“I couldn’t agree because I wasn’t asked. But if Diego feels this is the best way to deal with whatever is going on back in the States then I’m willing to go along with whatever he proposes. We are married, but that doesn’t mean we have to stay married.”
“You’re right.”
Jacob gave her a sidelong glance. “Thank you for agreeing with me. I never would’ve thought you would be an obedient wife.”
“I hope you’re not referring to obedient as in obey.”
“Maybe yes, maybe no.”
Ana rolled her eyes at him. “No wonder you’re not married.”
Jacob smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mrs. Jones. We are married and I’m going to show you just how married we are.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “What do you propose to do?”
“What I should’ve done to you that morning in Key West.”
Ana knew he was talking about the shower incident. Jacob was right. If they’d made love that morning she wouldn’t be able to stop repressing her urges. Her moments were coming more frequently and becoming more intense. The only thing that saved her from embarrassment was, as a woman, she’d been able to conceal sexual arousal wherein it was much more difficult for Jacob.
Summer Vows Page 19
