“Stepdaughter,” Steph corrected as she took the seat.
The dark-haired maid swooped in and deposited a new tray full of appetizers on the low table. Immediately, Isla’s hand shot out for the olives, with fingers like a pelican’s beak, grasping one. She popped it into her mouth and rolled her eyes in delight.
“Tell us everything,” Madeline said. “He talks about you all the time.”
A chorus of women’s voices echoed Madeline.
“He does?” Steph asked as happiness coursed through her.
Isla nodded. “He was so excited to see you earlier this week at Tristan’s.”
Steph parted her lips, tempted to ask why he’d invited her tonight but didn’t show. Instead, she focused on her mission. “I was so happy to see him, too. It sounds like you’re both having the time of your lives here in the Islands,” she said, grateful that the light-headedness from the champagne made her sound truly thrilled.
Isla placed her hand on her heart. “Oh, we are. We truly are. Life is lovely in the Caymans.”
Steph sighed happily, imitating Isla. “I can only imagine. You have the club, and he told me about all your charitable work, and of course the property you’re investing in, too,” she said, the words tumbling forth with ease as she went fishing for info. The rest of the women oohed and aahed as they stroked pearl-filled rabbits and dual-action toys.
Isla’s eyes lit up and she crossed her fingers. “I’m hoping and praying the deal goes through. Madeline is my realtor, so I have high hopes. And when it does, I should be able to expand my gallery and showcase even more world-class art.”
“Oh, won’t that just be divine!” Steph declared, the bubbles buoying her as she mentally patted herself on the back for reeling in that bit of intel about their real-estate ventures. Jake would be impressed. Sexy, smart, hands-off Jake, who was waiting patiently in her Jeep.
“Yes. I do hope so. I’ve sold several paintings recently from an artist named Lynx who has such a brilliant concept of what the world can be.”
“How so?” Steph asked, eyes pinned on Isla.
“He believes in simplicity. That the world and its challenges can be reduced to geometric shapes. Eli and I so agree with him. He’s on a retreat in California to meditate on his newest series.”
Ah, so that explained the art in the club. Steph reached for her glass, downing the rest of it. “That must be where Eli is tonight. At the gallery,” Steph said, casting the bait in the water once more.
Isla waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he got called away into the club. Had to check on a security issue there. You can never be too careful, you know.”
Steph’s ears pricked. Isla was like a blessed font of information. “Of course. One must always be safe. Can’t skimp on security.”
Isla patted Steph on the knee. “He’ll be back. He won’t stay away for long, knowing I’m doing some shopping tonight for new friends,” Isla said, waggling her well-groomed eyebrows at the array of vibrators.
She coughed. Lunch was definitely making a return trip. “Excuse me for a minute. I need the ladies’ room.”
“Just head down the hall,” Isla said, gesturing grandly, the ring on her right hand sparkling as she pointed.
Steph wandered past the kitchen, glancing behind her to make sure the coast was clear, then into the long hallway. Like a true Nancy Drew, she hunted around, scanning for any hidden doorways, secret passageways, or for art that might house a safe. The walls were lined with framed images of shapes—it was an homage to basic geometry with paintings of squares, circles, and trapezoids, similar to the club. But they were miniature—a few inches wide by a few inches high, too small to hide a safe. Crap. She really wanted to find a possible location for diamonds.
Now, let’s see. If she were a safe, where would she be? She tapped her fingers against her chin as she peered around. Taking quick steps, she hurried down the hall when someone opened a door.
The safe was small, hidden on a bookshelf behind a series of coffee-table photograph books of remote island locations. It took all of two minutes and twelve seconds to crack. Jake held his breath as he gingerly opened the small metal door. His heart beat loudly against his rib cage and that dangerous thing known as hope dared to surface inside him. What a thrill that would be to find a velvet pouch full of the money—in the form of diamonds—that Eli stole from Bob in Middle America.
He patted around the safe and found a passport.
OK, fine. Safes were excellent places to store important identification. He stuck his hand in farther, and holy smokes. That was what Eli had in his safe?
Her pulse spiked as she bumped into another woman in the hall. The brunette sex-toy mistress.
“Oh hi, Steph,” the woman said. “I was just getting some more goodies from my car. I didn’t expect them to sell so quickly. But I can’t complain.”
“Oh well, who doesn’t need to buy a dildo?” Steph joked as her cheeks burned bright red.
“I do hope you’ll get something. And as the daughter of the house I’ll happily give you a discount.”
Steph shook her head. “Stepdaughter. And I’m all good. Really. Bought a few dozen butterflies last week at a clearance sale, so I’m good to go,” she said, then pointed to the bathroom door. “I’m just going to pop into the restroom.”
Once inside, she did her best to take a while, washing her hands and applying some hand lotion when she was through. That should buy her some time to have the hallway to herself. But when she left, the woman was there, waiting to see her back to the party.
“Here,” the woman said, reaching into the box and taking out a black velvet bag. “Just take it. It’s on me.”
Steph shook her head. “Oh no. I can’t.”
“Please. It would make me happy to give you a gift.”
Steph parted her lips to protest, but the woman was insistent, staring intently at her over her glasses. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. By the way, I’m Monica. I hope you enjoy your new gift. Let’s go back to the party,” she said, and nudged Steph gently with her elbow, guiding her back into the cackling fest of buzzed, horny women. So much for safe hunting. Monica had safe-blocked her.
Madeline gestured excitedly as they returned to the toy fest. “Did you get it? The piece de resistance?”
“I did,” Monica said in a sex-kitten voice. She set down the big box, dipped her hand inside, and took out a small black box that looked distinctly like the one Eli had given Steph with the diamond in it. Her spine straightened and adrenaline tripped through her blood. Monica popped open the top, and the women gasped.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous.”
It was gorgeous. Blinding was another word that worked. Brilliant, too. Inside the box was a jewel, but it was bigger than the one her stepfather had given her. Brighter, even.
But something about it looked decidedly fake.
Leave no trace.
That was his mantra, and he had successfully lived up to it tonight, closing and locking the safe, rearranging the books in front of it, and shutting the office door behind him. He exited the house through the bathroom window, crouched along the roof, and climbed into the tree. Mere seconds later, he walked across the spongy grass, having covered his tracks.
OK, he didn’t entirely leave no trace. He’d taken something from the safe. He had to show Steph.
Isla made grabby hands, and Monica gave her the small box. “Look. It’s rhinestone-studded. Eli’s going to be so surprised. He’s going to love it so much.”
Isla pulled the jewel out of the box.
No. Please no. Oh God. Say it isn’t so.
“I can’t wait to give this to him, Monica. He loves this kind of play. He’s going to be so excited. We’re going to use it tonight.”
Steph smacked her forehead. “Oh, excuse me. I forgot I have a late-night dive. Must go.”
Intel was one thing. TMI was entirely another.
CHAPTER TWENTY
She marched
down the stone path, around the front of the house, and walked smack into the hardest, firmest chest she’d ever felt.
“Did you find the jelly beans?”
“No. I stumbled into a gaggle of middle-age women in bandage dresses with huge egg-shaped rings ogling dolphins, rabbits, and butt plugs. Then, I got stymied by a sex-toy mistress, who followed me to the ladies’ room—”
“She didn’t join you in there, did she?”
Steph swatted his arm. Jake’s very strong, very muscular, very toned arm. “No! She didn’t join me in the bathroom. But she waited for me. To give me a goddamn sex toy,” she said, thrusting the velvet pouch at him.
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Tell me more.”
She shot him a stare that could crumble steel. “Go ahead. Look inside. Feel free.”
He shrugged happily and opened the drawstring. “That’s what we call sneaking in through the back door.”
Despite her irritation, she managed a small laugh. “For a minute there, I almost thought we had the answer to where the diamonds are. But this gem is fake.”
“Somewhere out there, though, someone is making gold-plated dildos. Diamond-encrusted vibrators. Rabbits filled with real pearls,” he said, shaking his head in mock wistfulness as they headed to her car. “Speaking of diamonds in the house, did you have any success?”
She cut him off, slicing her hand through the air. “No. No. No. And more no. Did you not hear me? The sex-toy mistress practically clung to me, and then I was very nearly subjected to a discussion of Eli’s predilections.” She dragged a hand through her hair in frustration. “I did not find the bowlful of diamonds, so we’ll have to go back again, and my champagne buzz is nearly gone, so I could really use a Cherry Popsicle.”
“Is that code for a ruby-encrusted—”
“No. There’s a bar along the beach that serves frozen cherry margaritas and they’re called Cherry Popsicles because they’re made around a frozen block of cherry ice, and when you get to the end you can suck on the Popsicle in the middle of it, and if I do not get one stat, my brain will be permanently branded with images of my stepfather’s fiancée holding that thing,” she said, gesturing wildly at the black pouch.
“Fair enough. To the Cherry Popsicle purveyor we go. Do they have ice cream? I do love a good ice-cream cone.”
“I’ll find you ice cream, Jake.”
“By the way, what’s a bandage dress? Is that like a dress made out of Band Aids?”
She heaved a sigh. “No. It’s a style. It’s very clingy and tight, but the fabric is sturdy,” she said, stopping to point to her breasts as if to show how a bandage dress would hug her curves.
He cleared his throat, and when she looked up, she saw him looking down.
At her boobs.
“I forgot. You’re a boob starer. Didn’t mean to tempt you, since you’re trying to stay on the wagon.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “One, you say that like it’s a bad thing. Two, you have fantastic breasts. And three, do you blame me? You were waving your hands in front of them. I had no choice but to stare at them.”
She tugged his arm and resumed her walk, wishing she didn’t like it so much that he enjoyed the view.
Once inside the car, he smiled at her like a cat who’d caught the tastiest mouse in the universe.
“What?” She held her arms out wide. “What’s the smile for? The velvet pouch? The boob stare?”
“Just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?” she asked, furrowing her brow.
His grin spread across his whole handsome face. It lit up his eyes. They twinkled with mischief. “The diamonds aren’t in the house. We don’t have to go back.”
She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“You did an excellent job.”
“At what?” The hair on her arms stood on end.
“At getting info about the first floor of the house.”
“Jake, what are you getting at? Just say it,” she said. “What do you mean about the first floor?”
He shrugged happily. “I took care of the second floor.”
Her eyes popped, her jaw dropped, and her brain went haywire. “What?”
“I climbed in through the second-story window and checked out his office. Want to know what he keeps in his safe?”
Equal parts surprise and curiosity ripped through her. “You were in there the whole time I was there, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I wanted you to be able to act natural and not worry about my poking around upstairs and trying to break into a safe.”
“You tricked me again!” she shouted, grateful they were in her car, parked at the end of the block.
“That’s one way to look at it. But I like to think I was protecting you.”
“From what?” She crossed her arms.
“From you inadvertently letting on that the guy you’re teamed up with was sneaking around upstairs and cracking your stepdad’s safe.”
She shook her head and breathed out hard. She couldn’t believe that’s what he had been up to while she was parked in the midst of the sex-toy ladies. But yet, she couldn’t deny his plan was brilliant. Nor could she deny her curiosity any longer.
“What did you find?”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. The wrapper said it was from Ecuador. “He has a few dozen of these in his safe, along with his passport. I grabbed one from the top. Didn’t want him to notice they were gone and start worrying.”
She studied the chocolate, tapping the bar. “That’s the chocolate he invested in that went belly-up, right?”
“Guess he likes it, and held onto a few for himself,” Jake said with a shrug.
She laughed. “He always did like his sweets.”
“Can’t blame him on that account.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.
Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.
Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.
Try as he might, his brain was stuck on repeat. His eyeballs were glued to the scene in front of him. Steph, licking the Popsicle. Her tongue swirling along the length of the cherry ice. He shifted on the picnic table bench, trying to adjust his shorts.
Futile effort.
It was fucking tight in there. He’d been hard since he first saw her tonight, then again when she waved her hands in front of her fantastic breasts, and now ever since she’d started licking the frozen treat.
Then she emitted a moan of culinary delight. And rolled her eyes.
Rock. Hard.
Not. Fair.
He did not know why he’d suggested they focus on just work. She was all he could focus on right now. He could barely remember why getting involved on a job was a bad idea. Couldn’t possibly be a bad idea. His body thought it was a very good idea.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked as he finished his mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“This is heavenly. You really should have one.”
“Yeah, I should. But one of us needs to drive,” he said, taking the final bite of his cone. “Besides, this mint chip rocks my world.”
“Told you so,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you’re not going to try a Popsicle, though. What if you had one, and then we talked about our plans for an hour, and then you could drive?”
“Nah. Can’t take a chance. But by all means, continue fellating the Popsicle.”
“I do believe I will.” She drew the Popsicle in deep and sucked long and hard.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Killing me,” he muttered.
She cocked her head to the side. Affixed a quizzical look. “How am I killing you, Jake? I thought you wanted to go back to just work?”
“I said that. I meant it. I also find you insanely attractive. Therefore, the conundrum.”
“A conundrum indeed,” she said, flicking her tongue across the ice.
A night breeze blew by, and
strands of her hair danced lazily around her shoulders. He supposed he could have looked away. He could have gazed contemplatively at the crescent moon and its sickles of light spotlighting the vast waters at night. Or at the vacationers strolling by along the beach. Even at the tiki torches that flickered at the edge of the bar that sat perched on the sugary white sand.
But she was some kind of temptation, and looking away was damn impossible. He steepled his hands together and did his darnedest to focus on work. “Let’s talk about chocolate bars, and real estate, and art galleries.”
“My stepdad must really like those chocolate bars to keep them socked away in a safe. But it’s totally his style. He had a Tupperware container full of his favorite French chocolate that he kept on a high shelf so Robert and I wouldn’t take it.”
“Did that stop you?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Nope. We were determined little kids. Climbed up on chairs and the counter to get the sweets. He always had good sweets.”
“Should we try it? See if it’s any good?”
She crinkled her nose. “What if it’s the worst chocolate in the world? What if it’s poisoned?”
He arched an eyebrow. “You tell me if that seems likely that your stepdad keeps a safe full of poisoned chocolate.”
She gestured with her fingers for him to give her some. “Fine. I’ll be the guinea pig. I’m not afraid. Give me a bite.”
Not wanting to let her lab rat alone, he broke off chunks of the bar for each of them. Setting aside the Popsicle, Steph bit into hers, and Jake did the same. The chocolate was delicious.
Steph pointed to the bar. “Damn, that’s good,” she said as she finished it.
“No wonder he keeps a secret stash locked up.”
“He was always an odd duck. Like I’ve said, he loves his luxuries, so to him, maybe this chocolate is his luxury.”
“Maybe it is,” Jake said, and he wasn’t sure it was worth spending any more time wondering why Eli stowed his chocolate—the reason was apparent in the taste. “But at least we know what’s in his safe, and what’s not in his safe.”
“And so we look elsewhere. Eliminating locations is just as important, right?” she said, and there was such a sweet earnestness in her voice that simply latched onto his heart. Like she wanted to impress him. Like she wanted to show she knew what she was doing.
The Sapphire Affair (A Jewel Novel Book 1) Page 16
