by Shandi Boyes
“It’s okay, Catherine would’ve let her in.”
“Catherine’s here, too?” Her eyes widen before she flops onto the bed. “I’ll never look them in the eyes again if they heard me… orgasm,” she mumbles under the hands, hiding her flushed cheeks.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Isabelle. It’s my job to ensure your every whim is taken care of. If that means you want me to fuck you in the middle of the day, on the kitchen counter while a staff member is sitting in the other room, I'll do it. I pay my staff very well for their discretion, so I won’t tiptoe around my own house.”
The color on her cheeks intensifies, but it isn’t from embarrassment—she's aroused by my statement. My desire to claim her overwhelms me when her seductive scent filters in the air.
“And unless you want them to hear you for the second time today, I suggest you stop looking at me like that.”
She swallows harshly before she accepts the sweater outfit I'm offering.
“Stupid, traitorous body,” she mumbles under her breath as she ambles to the chest of drawers to retrieve a scrap of material she calls panties. My cock twitches when she slithers the tiny strip of white lace up her smooth thighs and tugs her shirt over her head dropping it to the floor, exposing the generous swell of her breasts. The only thing stopping me sinking my cock into her needy pussy is remembering that Jae is downstairs waiting for us. That’s all the reminder I need that Isabelle is supposed to be on bed rest, not servicing my cock.
Once she's dressed, I enclose my hand around hers and walk down to the foyer. My lengthy strides halt when her clutch of my hand firms when we're halfway down the stairs. Following her fretful gaze, I discover the amused face of Ryan and a hardened-with-anger Alex.
“Oh. My. God.”
Isabelle’s cheeks inflame to a level I’ve never seen before. I’m torn on how to react. Half of me is smug, glad they heard how aroused I can make her with only my fingers, but the other half is pissed they heard Isabelle in ecstasy. Those sounds solely belong to me.
I straighten my shoulders, and my lips set into a hard line before I continue down the stairs. The color in Isabelle’s cheeks increases with every step we take. Ryan offers me his hand in greeting, but Alex keeps his fisted at his side.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Ryan’s voice is courteous while also laced with cheekiness, confirming what I already expected. They heard Isabelle’s cries of ecstasy. “We have a few questions we need to ask you regarding the investigation on the police officers who were kidnapped and held in your yacht.”
“We?” My suspicious eyes bounce between Ryan and Alex. “Since when did the FBI and the Ravenshoe Police Department become allies?”
“When we found a subject we have common ground on,” Alex answers, turning his narrowed gaze from staring at Isabelle to glare at me. “The police officers were found bound and gagged in your yacht. The same yacht you chartered out of the Vela De Keys Marina on the exact afternoon they were kidnapped.”
My lips crimp. “Not everything is black and white. There's a whole heap of gray no one pays any attention to—”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. There's a logical reason for everything.”
Air whistles between my lips when I attempt to stifle a chuckle. “Now it all makes sense.”
I step closer to Alex, ignoring Isabelle’s tug on my arm, trying to keep us apart. I continue until I come face to face with the man who has been relentlessly pursuing me for months. I’m impressed when he maintains my eye contact when I stare into his blue eyes. Not many men have the confidence to stand across from me and not balk.
“What makes sense?” Alex queries, unable to suppress the need to know what my remark referred to.
“Why you’ve been so persistent in investigating me.”
Alex’s top lip curls into a snarl. “I’ve been persistently investigating you because you're a criminal.”
I adjust my position to block his view of Isabelle when he turns his eyes to her. “It has nothing to do with me being a criminal. You’re only investigating me because you're jealous.”
Alex chuckles a deep, snarky laugh. “Jealous? Of what? Everything you’ve ever accomplished in your life was achieved with money tainted in blood. I'd rather be poor than live with low morals like you.”
“Alex, that’s enough.”
A smug grin curves on my mouth, pleased Isabelle is defending my integrity. Her cheeks are still inflamed, but now it’s from the anger surging through her veins, not embarrassment. I glide my thumb over her hand, refocusing her attention from glaring at Alex. Her eyes switch from being angry to remorseful the instant they lock with mine. I smile and wink at her before returning my focus to Alex.
“You’re not jealous of my accomplishments, my power, or my wealth.”
Alex’s chest puffs high, and an arrogant mask slips over his face.
“You’re jealous because Regan chose me over you.”
Isabelle squeezes my hand so hard her nails dig into my palm. Alex tries to suffocate the look of possessiveness on his face, but he isn’t quick enough for me to miss it. Now everything does make sense. Regan lived in Ravenshoe for years, but suddenly, not long after the FBI rolled into town, she moved back to Texas.
Regan is a strong, take-no-shit-from-no-one woman, but she wasn’t always like that. She uses her high-strung attitude as a shield to protect herself from the hurt she endured when she was younger. It takes one hell of a man to get her to lower her barrier, and obviously, Alex accomplished that, but from the look of repentance in his eyes, I can tell he's also the reason she converted back to her hard-shelled exterior.
“If you believe her decision was based on anything but professional obligation and friendship, then you're more foolish than I first thought.” I shift my eyes to Ryan. “I'll have my lawyer schedule a time for me to come to the station to answer any questions you have, but for now, Isabelle and her health will remain my number one priority.”
Ryan nods, and any remark from Alex is interrupted when a doorbell rings through the foyer. Lifting my gaze, I spot Jae standing outside the glass French doors with an antique brown leather doctor’s bag in her hand.
“Go with Jae into the living room. I’ll join you in a few minutes after I see Ryan and Alex out,” I instruct Isabelle, peering at her.
An egotistical smirk curls my lips high when Isabelle bids farewell to Alex and Ryan with a quick smile before she does as instructed without protest. Once she and Jae enter the living room, I face Alex and Ryan head-on. “Did you arrest the second assailant who kidnapped Isabelle?”
Ryan nods. “Yes. The information supplied by Enrique was extremely accurate. We netted his assailant and another four members of his crew earlier this morning.”
“Do you have any leads in the disappearance of Enrique?” I keep the same panicked tone to ward off any suspicion.
Alex’s lip set into a hard line. “No, but rumors are Vladimir was grooming him to take over the family business, so I wouldn’t be surprised to discover this is the work of Vladimir’s crew. We put a ban on all travel, but by the time it was processed through all the appropriate channels, Enrique was long gone.”
I nod to conceal the smile curving on my mouth. “Have you questioned the police officers regarding who framed Isabelle for Megan’s murder?”
Ryan grimaces. “No, they were admitted to Mercer Hospital for dehydration, exposure, and for psychiatric evaluation. Until they're given the all-clear, the union reps won’t let me close to them.”
I glance into Ryan’s eyes, snubbing Alex and his furious glance. “You have your suspicions on who it is?” Ryan is like an open book, easy for me to read.
“I have my theories. I just need proof.”
When I arch my brow, requesting further information, Ryan cranks his head to Alex. Alex’s top lip twitches as he runs his hand over his head. He huffs before shrugging, giving permission for Ryan to divulge additional confidential information.
Ryan’s gaze returns t
o me. “One of the captives was Rodney Parvok.”
My nostrils flare when I inhale a big breath. Rodney was a rookie officer working alongside Theresa the year before she was removed from her position of detective at Ravenshoe PD. He falsely testified during her incompetency hearing, trying to save the woman he was secretly infatuated with. It was fortunate that the security in my apartment is impeccable, so I had surveillance evidence to corroborate my claims against Theresa.
“The other was Chase Springfield.”
The muscle in my jaw tenses. “What more proof do you need than that?” My tone is dangerously low as my eyes drift between Alex and Ryan. “Theresa’s minion and her cousin were the two men who brutalized Isabelle during her arrest. Enrique said he learned of the plot to kidnap Isabelle from them, and that he only kept them alive because they had useful information on who framed Isabelle. I think it’s pretty obvious who set her up for murder.”
“Anything Enrique said to Isabelle is hearsay. It will never hold up in a courtroom—”
“I don’t give a fuck what will hold up in court. If you stopped wasting police resources pursuing a spiteful grudge against me, you wouldn’t need to worry about hearsay. You could have squeezed the information directly from the source. Instead, you’re walking around with your head stuck up your ass because your ego got bruised by a woman way out of your league to begin with.”
A narcissistic smirk curves on my lips when Alex steps closer to me. The veins in his neck protrude as his face reddens in anger. I sniff, purposely baiting him, hoping to force him to react to my taunt, so I can finally wipe the conceited expression right off his obnoxious face.
My gibe is working until Ryan steps between us. “You really think coming to blows will help Isabelle?”
Just hearing Isabelle’s name quells some of the fiery heat scorching my veins.
“You have a week. If you don’t arrest Theresa by then, I’ll take matters into my own hands,” I inform them, my tone relaying the truth in my statement. Any reply from Alex is cut off when I shoot him a wry look. “If I’m going to be accused of something, I may as well do it.”
With that, I spin on my heels and walk toward the living room, not bothering to show my guests the way out.
Chapter 15
Isabelle
“And how are the headaches?” Dr. Jae stores her portable blood pressure monitor back into her retro-looking hospital bag before shifting on her feet to face me.
I grimace. “I’ve been suffering from tired headaches the past few weeks, so I can’t determine whether these headaches are associated with the concussion or if they’re from the nightmares,” I whisper the last part, ashamed to admit I’m still being plagued by nightmares weeks after the ordeal at the Shroud farmhouse.
Dr. Jae’s eyes shimmer with concern. Her lips move, but no words escape her mouth. That may have more to do with Isaac’s impressive stature filling the doorway than a lack of words. His jaw is tense, and his fists are clenched at his side. He couldn’t be more riled up if he tried. I guess the remainder of his meeting followed the path it was on when I was there.
I was hoping Alex would have realized by now that Isaac isn’t the man his FBI file portrays him to be, but apparently, the truce was null and void the instant I was safely located. I was a coward when I fled the foyer at Isaac’s request, but I was embarrassed they heard me orgasm, so I took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation when it was presented.
Isaac’s stern eyes drift to Dr. Jae after running them over my face. “How is Isabelle?”
“She's well. Her blood pressure is a little high, and she's still suffering from headaches, but she's doing remarkably well for someone who suffered a stage three concussion.”
The tenseness in his jaw amplifies when she mentions I’m still suffering from headaches. “I’ll prescribe a sleeping pill to ensure the headaches are from a lack of sleep rather than the side effects of a concussion.” She licks her lips and coughs. “These… umm… tablets will make any birth control you may be taking ineffective.”
A smile tugs my lips higher, pleased at Dr. Jae’s attempts to maintain patient-doctor confidentiality. After scribbling a prescription on a pad in her bag, she hands it to Isaac, then drops her eyes to me. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning to check on you. Hopefully, with a decent sleep tonight, your headaches will lessen. If they don’t clear in a few days, I’ll order some additional tests at the hospital.”
“Okay, thank you.”
She glides her hand down my arm before moving to stand in front of Isaac. When his eyes lock with mine, wordlessly advising that he’ll return once he shows Dr. Jae out, I nod. While he does that, I scan the space. The room looks as it did before Alex’s team completed their search, except there are additional frames added to the collection on the mantelpiece.
My heart rate speeds up when my eyes zoom in on two very recent additions. I scurry off the couch to pick up the first photo. It’s a picture of Isaac and me dancing at the fundraising gala. Even with a large mask covering a majority of my face, I can still see the flushed expression impinging my cheeks, and my eyes are sparkling with lust. Isaac’s arms are wrapped around my waist, and his head buried in the crook of my neck as he kisses my collarbone. The second photo is of me sleeping. It appears to have been taken in Regan’s guest bedroom.
“How did you get this photo?” I ask when Isaac walks back into the room.
When his lips curve into a succulent smile, I grimace. “Please don’t tell me you had Hugo sneak in and take photos of me sleeping.”
The smile is wiped right off his face, so an angry snarl can take its place. “I took that photo,” he answers, removing the frame from my grasp.
My brows scrunch as I stare at him peculiarly. “We’ve never been together at Regan’s apartment.”
His seductive smirk returns full force as he winks.
“Isaac…”
“It’s not your turn to ask a question.”
I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Yes, it is.”
He arches his brow. “And how do you figure that?”
I stand on my tippy toes to press a peck on his sinful mouth. His growl vibrates through my lips when I refuse to open my mouth at the demand of his lashing tongue. It’s hard denying him, but I’m trying to prove a point.
“Last night, I said it would be my final question if you said yes to pleasuring me.” I purse my lips and screw up my nose. “You didn’t say yes, and you didn’t put out, so that question didn’t count.”
“So you’re going to hold out kissing me until I answer your question?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
My defiance waivers when he curls his arms around my waist and tugs me in closer. My insides purr like a kitten when he places a trail of kisses along my neckline and across my jaw before sealing his mouth over mine. My mouth gapes open when he rolls my nipple between his thumb and index finger, and his tongue slips inside. He strokes and licks the inside of my mouth in a frenzied pace that soon has my knees buckling.
When he pulls away from our kiss, my breathing is labored and my eyes are wide, shamefully exposing my arousal. “Your kisses aren’t up for negotiation, Isabelle, and neither is your body,” he declares, staring into my eyes. “They're not your bargaining chips. They're mine.”
My knees violently clash from the sexy growl that accompanied his voice when he said “mine.”
“Okay?”
A smile curls on my lips. Even while unleashing the dominance I love, he still seeks permission. “Okay.”
He places the photo back onto the mantelpiece. “I snapped that picture before I left Regan’s apartment the morning after you called me during a nightmare.”
My brows scrunch. “I asked Regan the following morning if you were there. She said no.”
He shakes his head as air escapes his nostrils. “She told me she’d do that. She was worried you’d call every night if you knew I came.”
I keep my mouth shut, kn
owing what Regan said is highly probable.
“How did you get in undetected? Hugo and I noticed a surveillance van outside the apartment the very first day.”
Isaac’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he scrubs his hand along his jaw. After sitting on the couch, he pulls me into his lap. A shallow moan seeps from my lips. He isn’t hard, but his well-endowed package doesn’t need to be stiff for me to notice.
When he lifts his gaze from my budded nipples to my eyes, my anxiety levels rise. His eyes are brimming with concern. I realize why when he murmurs, “I kissed Regan.”
I freeze as the air is forcefully removed from my lungs.
“If I had a sister, it would’ve been like kissing her. I swear to you, it was nothing like the images running through your head right now.”
I close my eyes, blocking out the painstaking visual filtering through my mind.
“It was the only way I could get into the apartment without raising suspicion. If I turned up at my… fuck pad without a… companion, Theresa would’ve realized you were staying in the building. I couldn’t run the risk of her hounding you there.”
Even though everything he says makes sense, it doesn’t stop the pain stabbing my chest.
“Isabelle…” his voice is croaky and full of hurt, “… please look at me.”
I exhale a long, shaky breath before opening my eyes. His reflects his genuine regret. “I had to know you were okay. I had to know you weren’t crying. I couldn’t bear the idea that the last time I talked to you was when you were crying. The kiss was nothing like you're imagining, I swear to you.”
The stranglehold on my heart eases when his eyes display the truth in his statement. His eyes can see straight into my soul, but that also means they're open and exposed, verifying the honesty in his words.
“Was there any tongue involved?”
An inappropriately-timed chuckle escapes his lips before he shakes his head.
His laughter immediately ends when my furious, narrowed eyes glare at him. “No,” he answers more respectfully.
