by Eve Devon
Honeysuckle turned over another page in the album and willed herself not to rise to the bait.
“Where did you stay last night?” Sophie prodded, “Because you weren’t at your place when I called you after finding out.”
Honeysuckle flushed. “I stayed with Adam.”
“As in your boss?” Shock flashed over Sophie’s face, and was instantly chased by pure female curiosity. “You’ve moved in with the Man of Steel?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Honeysuckle said, staring her sister down, pushing aside the memory of the way he’d looked last night. “It’s practical until we leave for Zarrenburg.”
“Practical.”
“Sophie, do not even—”
“What? Okay. My lips are sealed.” Sophie held her hands up placatingly, a small smile forming. She let Honeysuckle look down at the photographs for maybe five seconds before she asked softly, “So, you’re really okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll ask around. Have a look into things.”
“I can handle this myself.”
“Why do you always think my wanting to help you comes from a need to feel superior in some way? This is serious. If that creep Lou was behind the break-in, it needs sorting out.”
“And why do you always think I can’t handle serious?” Honeysuckle stopped and breathed out. It she wasn’t careful, they were going to be having the same argument they’d been having for years. “Look, if Lou is responsible, I have to find out what his end game is, because I don’t understand why he wouldn’t simply accuse me of stealing from him. He knows I can’t prove I didn’t, which is why I’m not sure he has anything to do with this. And if he doesn’t, I can’t risk upsetting him or giving him the idea he can instigate or escalate something that could threaten my trip to Zarrenburg. I have to go on this trip, Sophie. No way am I letting Adam down.” When Sophie stared at her thoughtfully, Honeysuckle added, “Or Steel Hawk or Mom and Dad, or you. Okay?”
“Okay. You know I may not work at Steel Hawk but that book seems to have come out of nowhere and I don’t like the thought of someone messing with the company. Or my sister! It’s not that I feel obligated to help; it’s that I want to.”
“I know. But I’d really appreciate it if you could just trust me to know what the right thing to do is regarding Lou. And you can help me—with these,” she said, smiling at the boxes she’d got down from the loft. “Help me compare all the photographs so I can rule out any of them coming from inside the Steel Hawk family. I need to find out who wrote that book and why.”
Sophie flopped down on the floor beside her sister and opened a box. After a few moments of companionable silence, she said, “You know, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re all proud of you. I know the jewelry designing didn’t work out, but you seem to have found where you fit. Finally.”
* * * * *
Standing outside the back of Rumors for forty minutes, waiting for someone to come out so she could slip in, Honeysuckle buried her hands deeper into her pockets and stamped up and down in her high-heeled boots. Wow, it was cold out tonight.
In the dark alleyway, dressed in skinny jeans, high-heeled boots, and her old leather biker jacket, she didn’t look inconspicuous, but she did kind of blend back in with the other Rumors employees.
No way was she trying to get in through the front doors of the club. She hadn’t exactly called Lou to arrange a formal meeting, so she couldn’t risk being refused entry.
Willing the doors to open, she withdrew her phone from her pocket, pulled up the voice recorder app, and practiced activating it a few more times. It wouldn’t hurt to have a record of her conversation with her old boss.
Just in case.
When she could hear muffled laughter drawing closer, Honeysuckle looked up. Finally the back door opened and two girls came out. Honeysuckle swung into action. Taking hold of one of the doors, she offered up a brief smile to the girls, hid the rest of her face with her phone, and pretended to be in animated conversation. When they walked by without comment, she strolled through the doors like it was something she did every day.
The doors shut behind her, and she stood alone in the corridor that led to the rabbit-warren backstage area. Swallowing, she tried to control her nerves. Everything that had once been so familiar now felt alien and tinged with danger. It wasn’t only that she wasn’t supposed to be backstage of the club. It was the memory of the last time she’d been here—hiding in the alcove where they sometimes stored spare costumes, praying that Lou would assume she’d made it out of the club and had missed his chance to stop her.
That night, frightened by Lou’s reaction when he realized she’d caught him on the security camera, she’d texted Sophie to pick her up from the back of the club.
Honeysuckle shivered. Standing in the dimly lit corridor, trembling like a virgin dancer on first night, wasn’t going to get her out of this confrontation any sooner. She had to do this. She had to make sure Lou didn’t feel she was a threat to him or his business. She needed to make sure she could get on that plane to Zarrenburg with Adam and play her part in repairing the damage the book had caused, before she walked away from Steel Hawk. She was through leaving things undone.
Early evening meant rush time at the club as the staff prepared for opening. Forcing her feet to move forward, she walked down the corridor, ready to see bar staff carrying crates of beer and bottles of spirits, and performers, both singers and dancers, rushing up and down the stairs from dressing area to backstage as they chatted about the lighting, music, and lineup schedule. Most especially, Honeysuckle was counting on the fact that it would be busy to help her brazenly walk past the tiny dressing rooms that had the doors taken off their hinges in an attempt to get some airflow into them.
Her hand trembled as she laid it on the railing and looked up to the top of the stairs. If Lou hadn’t broken with tradition, he should be up in his office, catching a quick nap before the show started.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up the stairs to Lou’s office, silently mouthing the only opening line—Hey, Lou, long time no see—she’d been able to come up with. What she said after that kind of depended on the look on Lou’s face.
At the top of the stairs, she heard voices. The one time she needed Lou to be alone in his office… Adrenaline flooded out of her. She could hardly walk in there when he was with someone. With a quick glance around, she pushed open the cleaner’s closet opposite and stepped inside to wait.
“How much did she take?”
Honeysuckle gasped. There was no mistaking that voice. Its owner had the power to have her insides curling in on themselves with pleasure. This time, though, her insides tightened— What the hell was Adam doing in Lou’s office?
The roaring in her ears was so loud she missed what Lou said in reply.
“Okay,” she heard Adam respond, “I want to be very clear. I pay you, and the matter is resolved.”
Honeysuckle leaned forward slightly. Why was Adam paying Lou anything?
“You sure you want to do this for her?” she heard Lou ask. “Seems like stealing might run in the family, if you know what I mean.”
Oh God. They were talking about her?
Could Adam somehow have tied Lou to what was happening? Honeysuckle’s hand crept to her throat. Or could he be working with Lou to hurt her deliberately?
As soon as the thoughts entered her mind, she dismissed them. She’d worked with Adam for eighteen months. Fallen a little in love with him even. There was no way he’d ever conspire against the company he loved so much. Steel Hawk was everything to him. Maybe he thought if he shook all the branches of the Steel Hawk family tree, something would fall to the ground?
“What’s it to you?” Adam asked, his voice tight and careful. “You’re getting your money, aren’t you?”
Fierce emotion bloomed in Honeysuckle’s chest and spread lik
e fire.
Adam was going to pay Lou.
For a debt she didn’t even owe.
Outrage held her rigid, fusing her feet to the spot while she tried to deal with what it meant that Adam had come here, seemingly on her behalf, but fully prepared to pay a stranger for something he didn’t even question she had done.
She’d told him she got bored in jobs and moved on, to cover for the real reason she was leaving Steel Hawk. He’d looked at her like he didn’t believe her, but this he believed? That she could steal?
“If you have an online account, I’ll deposit the money right now.”
He sounded so practical. So devoid of emotion. So…unsurprised.
There was the distinct sound of tapping away on a computer, and then she heard Lou say, “So her place got done over, huh?”
“More than.”
“Well, like I said, it didn’t come from me.”
“Oh, I believe you. If I didn’t, you would be requiring an ambulance right about now. So, you have your money.”
Honeysuckle heard shuffling feet. Adam had finished his transaction and was leaving.
“One last thing,” Adam said, his voice easier to hear now that he was by the office door. “If you ever come after her, or I find out you’re in the press promoting your club off the back of your connection to her, I won’t be such a gentleman.”
Honeysuckle believed him. There was no absence of emotion now. What she heard was pure intent. Was the threat out of fear for her, though—or Steel Hawk?
She shrank back into shadow as Adam walked right past the cleaner’s closet, and when she heard Lou’s office door close, she released the breath she’d been holding and stepped into the corridor after Adam.
Running down the stairs, she saw him head for the double doors with the fire exit push bar. Thinking only to catch up with him, she was completely unprepared when, without warning, he suddenly turned, grabbed her with strong and capable hands, and walked her back against the wall.
The sound of the heavy bass music pumping out from the club area above them couldn’t quite drown out the thump of her heart when she felt the anger in him and heard him growl, “I’ve concluded my business here—what do you want with me?”
She realized he didn’t have his glasses on and opened her mouth to tell him it was her he had ahold of, but a shout of laughter and then a burst of color had both their heads turning in the direction of the group of dancers coming out of one of the dressing rooms and heading up the stairs.
The next thing she knew, Adam was grabbing her by the collar of her jacket and moving them out of sight so that they were squeezed into the dark and tiny alcove that the rail of spare costumes used to be stashed out of the way in.
In the dark enclosure, there was no space to stand apart, and as her curves slid against him, she felt him immediately tense. One hand shot into her hair, the other stroked down the length of her jacket, pausing for a fraction of a second over her breast before it settled on her waist.
“Honeysuckle?” There was a quick exhale of surprise and then, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh, right back at you, mister,” she hissed. Although, pushed up against him like she was, the anger, which had coursed through her, now pulsed and buzzed into a different kind of energy.
“I came here to ensure your ex-boss had nothing to do with what happened at your place.”
“What the hell do you care?” she flung back. “You think I’m a thief who stole from my employer.”
The hand at her waist clenched, and as if realizing, relaxed and rubbed almost absentmindedly in a soothing motion over the soft cotton top she wore. In the strained silence, she could tell she’d taken him by surprise again.
“What makes you think that?” he asked quietly.
“Well, I didn’t hear you asking any questions when you paid him just now. You want me to tell you exactly how that made me feel now, or do you want to wait until we can see the whites of each other’s eyes?”
“Damn it, Honeysuckle, I—” He broke off as footsteps sounded in the corridor.
The hand that had been in her hair moved to cover her mouth as someone walked past.
Whoever was passing by suddenly stopped. Honeysuckle’s heart rate sped up. Did whoever it was sense Adam and Honeysuckle were there? If they decided to investigate, it wasn’t going to look good.
She didn’t see how Lou clapping eyes on her was going to help the situation any, now. She just wanted Adam and her to get out of there and end up somewhere neutral where she could tell him in no uncertain terms that she had not stolen that money.
The sound of small clicks made her realize that whoever it was obviously couldn’t text and walk at the same time.
When the taps kept on tapping, Honeysuckle covered the hand covering her mouth and tugged gently. Adam’s fingertips slid against her lower lip and his head tipped forward slightly to end up millimeters away from her.
As she felt every single muscle in him pull tight, she called herself all sorts of stupid. Adam hated small spaces.
He tried to pretend he didn’t, but she knew how much he struggled whenever they rode an elevator together.
Any residual anger about him paying Lou drained right out of her.
Sliding her hand up and over Adam’s shoulder, she tried to somehow reassure him.
As if he knew that was what she was trying to communicate, Adam pressed fully against her, and she had to bite back a moan at the feel of his heart hammering against her breast. She tried to slow her breathing in the hope that it would slow his and stop his claustrophobia from taking him under. Surely the world’s slowest texter would be gone soon, and then she could get Adam outside into the fresh air where he wouldn’t have to suffer.
Finally they both heard the fire-exit doors crash open and close. They were alone again.
But when several more minutes passed and he appeared to be frozen in place, she moved her mouth to his ear and softly called, “Adam?”
She felt him move restlessly against her.
“Adam,” she called again, trying to bring him back to her—to the present.
“Damn. You keep saying my name like that and we’re going to have a problem, here.”
The atmosphere between them changed immediately.
She moved her head back to try to search his face for a sign she was understanding him correctly. “Say your name like what?” she asked, her own heart starting to hammer.
She felt his hand slide up her rib cage, to stroke hypnotically back and forth just under the swell of her breast.
“Like you want me. There’s only so much I can—”
“Adam,” she repeated deliberately in the same breathy way.
She felt his groan rumble against her chest, and then his hand was cupping her jaw and he was angling her head and taking her mouth like a man starved.
Greedily, she gave as good as she got, and what she got felt like everything as they learned each other’s mouths with licks and nips and full-on plundering that felt so crazy good she wondered how she’d got by every day without his mouth on hers.
She’d think about how he could kiss a woman he thought a thief, later.
Drowning in rich sensation, she only vaguely became aware that his kisses were slowing, and then he was lifting his mouth away, his teeth taking one last tug at her bottom lip as if he couldn’t resist one more touch.
As she stared up at him, glad it was dark and he wouldn’t be able to see the glazed again—more—now expression on her face, she made to step out of the alcove.
With a quick grasp of her hand, Adam halted her movements, hesitated, and then said, “I apologize. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Oh.
Her brain scrambled to provide her with a protective coating for her emotions. “It’s all right,” she finally said. “I under
stand.”
“You do?”
“You needed a distraction from the claustrophobia.”
“Claustrophobia?”
“I know you don’t like people knowing. But it’s not a weakness. You don’t like small spaces. I see you deal with it every time you get in an elevator.”
“Honeysuckle, I am not claustrophobic.”
“But, then—”
“I might have a little elevator phobia.” Adam ran a hand over the back of his head. “I kissed you because when you say my name like that, it makes me think of long nights and hot sex. With you. You’re going to have to deal with that, because it looks like I just got through hiding it anymore.”
Chapter Nine
Zarrenburg, Rufus de Burgh’s House
“Again,” Rufus de Burgh commanded, glancing at his stopwatch. “You have one minute and forty-five seconds to assemble the UAV. You were three seconds out.”
“I’m getting better,” Monique pouted.
“And I will reward you when you come in under the one minute forty-five, not before. Now take it apart and re-strap the pieces under your gown. We go again in ten.”
Monique removed the rotary wings from the top of the compact unmanned aerial vehicle Rufus had had specially designed. Folding them until they were half the size, she smiled and deliberately rolled back her gown to expose a long length of thigh and the strips of Velcro strapped near the top.
Rufus’s gaze traveled the length of honeyed skin. Since he had permitted her to return from San Francisco, she had been insatiable. He wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to the Hawk girl’s apartment, but it seemed to have loosened something wild within her.
It was imperative he remain in total control of her, though. Better to ration her rewards to keep her motivated.
Motivating people to get what he wanted was something he had taken a long time to perfect.
He had worked on Monique Vass for years until he was 100 percent certain of what she could and would endure for him.
Sinking into her lush body would no doubt stop the pounding in his head. The veil of confusion that came with the headaches seemed more frequent, now he was closer to achieving his goals, but he must not lose focus—a personal vow he had made fourteen years ago, on the day of his mother’s funeral when he had found the tin box containing the two birth certificates, a photograph showing two babies, and a bank book containing records of all the money.
