Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2

by Delores Fossen

  Was Jake telling the truth? He certainly looked sincere, and he sounded sincere. What if he was lying? What if he wanted to use her to find Calvin? She could try to shake him, continue her search alone. But that wouldn’t stop him. He’d be out searching, too. Maybe he’d even bring others to help. That would make it even worse for Calvin, to have more people looking for him.

  So what were her choices? Search alone—assuming she could manage to get away without Jake following her. Or combine their resources, search together. That way she could keep an eye on him. Wasn’t that better than knowing he was out there somewhere, but not knowing where? What was that saying, keep your friends close, your enemies closer?

  “Faye?” He watched her intently, waiting for her decision.

  “You want me to help you find this guy, the one who was driving the car?”

  “Calvin Gillette, yes.” He sounded disappointed again that she wouldn’t admit she knew him. “You said you were worried about him, a stranger out in the ’Glades, and you wanted to help him. Together we might do better than either of us is doing apart. You can take me around town to ask some questions, see if anyone has seen Gillette. That might narrow down our search area. Once I find him, I deliver the information about his brother. Then it’s up to him whether to pursue it or not. My job is over at that point.”

  “You won’t tell anyone outside of Mystic Glades that I live here?” she asked.

  He pressed his hand to his heart. “As long as you don’t try to shoot me again, I have no reason to tell anyone about you.”

  She put her hand on top of his, feeling his pulse leap beneath her fingers.

  He cleared his throat. “Um, what are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to read your spirit, see what kind of man you are inside.”

  He opened his mouth to say something.

  “Be quiet.”

  His brows rose but he didn’t say anything.

  She closed her eyes, leaning toward him, feeling his warmth flow through her. Reading people, knowing their true nature, was something she’d always had an instinct for. She didn’t know if it was a sixth sense, or just that she paid more attention than most people. But as long as she could touch someone, and listen to the way their body attuned itself to hers, she’d always believed she could read the good inside them.

  A sense of calm flowed over her. She smiled as she opened her eyes. “You’re a good man, Jake Young. I can feel it inside you.”

  His eyes widened. “You can?”

  “Yes, I can. And I trust you. I’ll help you find Calvin.”

  “Calvin? Not Gillette this time?”

  She shook her head. “No. I still have my secrets, but I admit that I know him. And I want to find him, before something bad happens out in the swamp. We’ll work together. Deal?” She held out her hand.

  He hesitated, but finally took her hand in his and shook it. “Deal.”

  That increasingly familiar tingle of awareness shot through her. She tugged her hand from his and waved at her torn clothes, the smears of dirt on her arms. “I need to shower and change. And then I think we should sit down and plan our search. I’ve spent days going in circles without any success. I’d rather lose the rest of the daylight we have today figuring out a plan than searching for a few hours and coming up with nothing again.”

  She waved her hand toward her bedroom doorway. “You can set up in the guest room for tonight. If you don’t have extra clothes I can borrow—”

  “I always keep a go-bag in the trunk of my car. I’ll run down and get it. It’s got everything I’ll need.”

  * * *

  JAKE PITCHED HIS go-bag on the ground and slammed his trunk. He uttered a few choice curse words and leaned back against his car, guilt riding him like a double-edged sword. He’d done what he came here to do. His job. He’d somehow, inexplicably, gained Faye’s trust. But instead of feeling a sense of accomplishment, he was drowning in a sense of betrayal.

  How could she just touch him and decide he was a “good” man? Why the hell would she trust him so completely after just meeting him? How she’d managed to survive this long with such a naive way of looking at the world around her was beyond him. The woman needed someone to watch out for her, to protect her from the evil in the world.

  And to protect her from men like him.

  He shook his head in disgust. He’d moved to Naples for a fresh start, and here he was about to hurt someone all over again. If there was some way to go back in time and not take this case, he would have. But he’d signed a contract, accepted the money. And even though he hated what he was about to do to Faye, it was the right thing to do. He just hated that he was the one doing it.

  He grabbed his bag and went back upstairs. The shower was still running. Faye’s soft voice sang some kind of tune he’d never heard before. He’d half expected her to have disappeared again by the time he’d come back inside. And part of him had wished she had.

  Enough. He did have a job to do. It was time he did it. Although he’d already performed a cursory search earlier when he’d used the bathroom excuse to go up to her apartment, he performed a more thorough search now. He snooped in every drawer, every closet, even beneath the cushions on the small couch and chair in the main room.

  The little pixie wasn’t much for keeping things neat and tidy. Her belongings seemed to occupy whatever space they happened to land in when she was finished with them. But the kitchen was spotless, the small bathroom off the guest room shiny and smelling like fresh lemons. At least there weren’t any more weapons hiding anywhere, unless they were in her bedroom and he hadn’t found them earlier. He’d have to be careful until he had a chance to more thoroughly search that room.

  Pausing by her bedroom door again, he listened, assuring himself she was still in the shower. He crossed to the couch and plopped down to make a quick call.

  “Special Agent Quinn Fugate,” the voice on the line answered. Static reminded Jake of the unreliableness of cell phones around here.

  “Quinn, it’s Jake Young.”

  “Hold on.”

  Jake heard office sounds: ringing phones, people talking. Then a door closed and the sounds faded away.

  “Sorry about that. We’ve got a bad connection and it’s too noisy to hear you in the other room,” Quinn said. “Go ahead. Have you found Gillette?”

  He chose his words carefully, not willing to paint himself into a corner if things didn’t go as planned.

  “Not yet, but I have a good lead. I’m convinced he was on his way to a town called Mystic Glades when he crashed his car.”

  “Mystic Glades? Never heard of it.”

  The bathroom shower shut off. Jake lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “It’s about eight miles south of mile marker eighty-four on Alligator Alley, the stretch of I-75 that runs across the lower part of the state from the Gulf Coast to the Atlantic.”

  The door to the bedroom opened. Faye stepped out wearing a pink terry-cloth robe that would have been conservative except that it barely came to the tops of her thighs. His pulse slammed in his veins just thinking about what she might be wearing underneath—or not wearing. But the suspicious look she gave him as he held the phone had him rushing to cover his tracks.

  “Got to go, Mom,” Jake said. “Call you later.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jake had to quicken his stride the next morning to catch up to Faye as she hurried down the stairs to the store. She might have agreed to work with him to find Gillette, but she obviously wasn’t planning on making it easy. He didn’t mind so much if it meant she’d sashay that gorgeous rear of hers in front of him in tight jeans. Her mouthwatering chest was cupped in an equally tight, green lace top that had him struggling to meet her gaze whenever she was facing him. Today was going to be a study in both pleasure and torture at the same
time.

  They’d gone over a crude map last night, marking off the areas she’d already searched. He’d shown her how to mark off the areas in a grid pattern to make the search more efficient. She’d seemed grudgingly impressed. But before they searched anywhere, they were going to talk to some townspeople as he’d suggested, and see if anyone had seen Gillette. Faye hadn’t wanted to let anyone know about him, but she understood that time was of the essence now, and if someone could help narrow down the search area, that increased the odds of finding him alive.

  Jake followed her through the short hallway toward the main room that made up the store. But as they passed the office they’d been in yesterday, she turned around and pulled him inside. She closed the door. The click of the lock had Jake’s brows rising.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, wondering if she’d maybe changed her mind about helping him with the search.

  “We need to decide how we’re going to play this.” She placed her hand on his chest.

  His pulse immediately sped up. He took a wary step back, forcing her to drop her hand. “What do you mean?”

  She closed the distance between them again. “Yesterday you told Freddie and Amy that you and I had a past...a relationship. I actually think that’s a good idea. If we keep up that ruse, people here will be more inclined to talk to you, to answer your questions.”

  His mouth went dry. “You want to pretend we’re, what, lovers?”

  “Is it really that far-fetched? We’re obviously both attracted to each other. It wouldn’t be a stretch to convince people we’re lovers, at least not on my part.” She ran her fingers down his chest and hooked them in the top of his jeans.

  He stumbled back until the wall stopped him from backing up any more. Faye smiled and stalked forward until her breasts were pressed against him.

  “What’s wrong, Jake?”

  “I, uh, we don’t know each other that well. I don’t think this is a good idea.” He clamped his mouth shut. Good grief. He sounded like a girl. His words rang false, too, since all he wanted to do was grab her and crush her against him. He tried, really hard, not to let his gaze dip to the cleavage pressed against his ribs.

  He failed miserably.

  She smoothed her fingers up the side of his neck to play with his hair. He shuddered before he could stop himself.

  “We’ll have to come up with a story about how we met,” she said. “Something not too complicated so we don’t get tripped up on the details, right?”

  Making up a cover story. Now this was something he could do. He grabbed on to her suggestion like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver. “When Freddie told me you went to high school in Mobile, I told her I went there, too. So we’ll have to stick to that.”

  “Hmm. Maybe. Where did you go to high school?” she asked.

  “Nease. It’s in north Saint Johns County, right outside of Saint Augustine.” What the hell was she doing to the back of his neck? Her fingers were drawing little circles that shot heat straight to his groin.

  Her eyes lit up. “Nease? Did you know Tim Tebow? The football player? He went there, right?”

  Irritation flashed through him. What was it about women and Tim Tebow?

  “Never met him. I graduated quite a few years before he came on the scene.”

  “Bummer.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Quite a few years, huh? Just how old are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re trying to pretend we went to school at the same time. I don’t think we can pass for having been in high school together, unless you got held back a few years. How about college? People go there at all different ages. I graduated just a few years ago. How long ago did you graduate? Or did you even go?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I went to college. And yes, I graduated. But you do have a point about the age difference. I didn’t think about that when I told Freddie we both went to high school in Mobile.”

  Faye waved her hand in the air—unfortunately, not the one that was doing sinful things to the back of his neck. If she didn’t stop soon he might set back civilization thousands of years and throw her over his shoulder like a caveman.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I doubt Freddie remembers much about the conversation. She was well into the brew by the time I got here yesterday.”

  He pulled her hand down and captured it against his chest out of desperation. “Okay. So we met in college. I was a senior who started a little late, if anyone asks. And you were a freshman. Will that work? University of Alabama, right? In Tuscaloosa?”

  Her smile faded. “Just how much do you know about me?”

  “Not nearly enough. Just what I tricked out of Freddie. What did you study in college?”

  She looked as if she was still wondering what all Freddie might have told him, but she answered anyway. “Biology, with a focus on ecology and plant and animal studies.”

  “I suppose that makes sense.”

  She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that you seem so at home outdoors. It makes sense you would have studied plants and ecology.”

  “What about you? I’m guessing something like exercise science. I can totally see you as a trainer at a gym, or with a professional football team.”

  This time it was his turn to frown. “Because?”

  She waved her free hand toward him. “Look at you. Six foot, what—one, two? With muscles...everywhere. You were probably a quarterback, right?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No, I wasn’t. I didn’t play football. And I studied criminal justice. Now there’s just one more little detail we need to take care of.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders, intent on pushing her away. Instead, she slid both her arms up around his neck and locked them together. “Jake, quit fighting this...thing between us.”

  “We’re...working together. We should keep it professional.”

  This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. “If we’re going to say we’re lovers, we have to be comfortable kissing, right? To be convincing? If you won’t kiss me, I can’t help you.”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. “So, this is part of our...professional relationship then?”

  “Sure. Whatever. Just hurry up and kiss me.”

  His last shred of resolve to do the right thing snapped like a tattered thread. He swooped down and covered her mouth with his. Her mouth opened and she deepened the kiss, taking it from warm to molten in the space of a breath. She pulled him closer, standing on tiptoe, pressing her soft breasts against him as her tongue tangled with his. Heat raced across every nerve ending in his body, numbing his brain to logical thought.

  He slid his hand over the curve of her bottom, lifting her up off the floor, fitting her softness to his hardness. She moaned deep in her throat, demanding more, feathering her hands through his hair. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

  The shocking heat of her against him made him stumble. He cursed against her mouth. She laughed and kissed him again. He turned and pressed her against the wall, ravenous for the honeyed taste of her, the sweetness of her surrender, the savageness of her response. He drank in her every touch, every sexy little moan, every seductive slide of her body against his.

  Her hair swept across his hand on her bottom, teasing him with its velvety softness, curling around his fingers. An erotic image of that beautiful hair sweeping over his naked body had him tightening painfully against her.

  A bed. He had to find a bed. Or maybe the desk would work. He couldn’t wait long enough to find a bed. He had to have her now. He whirled around and sat her on the desk, standing between her legs, breaking the kiss just long enough to reach for her shirt to pull it up over her head.

  But she wouldn’t let him. She was too busy fumbling with his belt buckle, trying to un
fasten it. He looked down at her fingers working his belt loose, and that brief moment of lost contact between them was just enough for the haze of lust to allow his brain to switch back on. What was he doing? This was crazy, wrong on so many levels. She trusted him, and he was betraying her with every breath he took. He couldn’t cross this one last line. Once she found out the truth about him, she’d hate him forever. And he’d deserve it. He had to put a stop to this, even if it killed him.

  He grabbed her hands and trapped them between his.

  She looked up at him in question.

  “We have to stop,” he whispered, barely able to force his voice past his tight throat. “You deserve better than this, a quickie in a backroom office. Amy could discover us at any moment. And we should be out there trying to find Gillette.”

  She blinked as if just realizing where they were, what they were doing. The fog of passion in her eyes dimmed and she dropped her hands. Her face flushed with heat, but instead of withdrawing or shoving him away, she grinned. “Wow. That was...hot.”

  He laughed and pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re like a breath of fresh air, you know that? And way hotter than hot.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s the hair, isn’t it?” she teased, as she refastened his belt.

  In spite of his renewed good intentions, he couldn’t resist running his hands over the silky mass. “Trust me. The entire package is sexy as hell, with or without your gorgeous hair.”

  She grinned, apparently liking that. “Well, thanks for stopping. I guess. Because I sure wasn’t going to. But you’re right. The desk isn’t exactly comfortable. Next time, we might want to plan the location better.” She gave him an outrageous wink and shoved him back so she could hop down from the desk.

  “I’ve got to check with Amy about her schedule and make sure she can cover the shop.”