by Kat Martin
Of course, she hadn’t known that until she’d met him.
She glanced at her watch, saw she was overdue to leave.
She pointedly turned to look at the hallway leading to the restrooms. “I’m beginning to worry. I think I had better go check, make sure Beau’s okay.”
“Allow me,” Vaughn said. “You can hardly go into the men’s room. I’ll make sure he’s all right. What costume is he wearing?”
Oh, God. She moistened her lips, which had gone bone-dry. “He’s a pirate. He’s got a . . . umm . . . patch over one eye.” Praying the slightly misleading description might help in some way, Cassidy stood frozen as Vaughn turned and headed for the hallway.
Desperate now, Cassidy pretended to notice a couple near the door. “I think I just saw Beau talking to some friends,” she said. “I hope you’ll thank Mal for his help. It was nice meeting you, Ashley.”
“You, too, Cassidy.”
She took off at a sprint, then forced herself to slow down, make her way less frantically to the exit. When she reached the foyer, she took a deep breath but didn’t stop, crossing the front porch, descending the wide brick steps to the valet stand.
When she spotted the BMW idling at the curb, her legs nearly buckled with relief. Hurrying over, she waited for the valet to open the passenger door, then slid into the seat, ignoring a painful jolt to her ribs.
She was shaking as she clicked her seat belt into place and the valet slammed the car door. Beau put the Beamer in gear, checked the rearview mirror, and drove away from the entrance to the country club.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’re late.” Beau sliced Cassidy a glance. “What happened in there? I was getting worried. I was about to come looking for you.”
“Malcolm Vaughn happened. Thank heavens you didn’t come back inside. Oh, God, Beau, I was scared to death when he walked up and recognized me. I had a helluva time figuring out how to get away. If you had come back, he would have expected us to stay. It could have been extremely uncomfortable, to say the least. How about you? Did you run into any trouble?”
“Only about two hundred seventy pounds of trouble. Security guard. He would have been a real sonofabitch to put down.”
Her head swiveled toward him. “Put down?”
He just shrugged. “Luckily he was sympathetic to a guy with woman trouble.”
Cassidy laughed, relieving the tension both of them were feeling. “So we got it done?”
Beau smiled. “Yeah, baby, we did.”
“Vaughn was there with a woman named Ashley Stanfield. He said she was the daughter of one of his clients.”
“Stanfield. Name sounds familiar.”
“I’ll check it out as soon as we get home. We don’t need to worry about the audio tonight, or at least I wouldn’t think so. Not when he’s got a date with him.”
“As soon as we get home, I’m taking you to bed. Watching you walk around all evening in that skimpy outfit is more than any red-blooded male can stand.”
Her gaze flicked across the console to the bulge beneath his tight black pants. “Good idea. No pirate ever filled out a pair of breeches better than you.”
He smiled wickedly. “Hot pool or shower? We need to warm up.”
“Hot pool,” she said softly, and he could hear the little hitch in her voice.
“Good thinking. Easier on your ribs.”
Cassidy made a sexy little sound in her throat that really turned him on. Unfortunately, as he drove back toward the house, only a few seconds had passed before a pair of headlights showed up in his rearview mirror.
His pulse kicked up. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Cassidy whirled in her seat to look out the back window. “How could they have found us?”
“Same way we found Vaughn, I guess. Or maybe he called them.” He pressed down on the gas pedal, urging the BMW a little faster. Eventually, the road would widen and straighten out and he could pick up speed, but there were sharp curves in this area.
Beau silently cursed. The BMW was a great automobile, but for high-speed driving on this kind of terrain, it wasn’t the Lambo or the Ferrari.
He checked the rearview mirror. The headlights were still behind him, rapidly closing the distance. He reached down to the compartment beneath his seat, took out the Glock and rested it on the seat beside him.
He could outrun the oncoming car, eventually lose it in traffic, and get them back home. It wouldn’t be much of a problem. But he was tired of feeling like prey instead of predator. He kept the car moving at the same speed. With no room to pass in this section, the other vehicle stayed close behind. The straightaway loomed ahead, widened into a four-lane road.
He flicked a glance at Cassidy. In the glow of the dashboard lights, her face looked pale, but her expression was set in determined lines. Her hand trembled as she raised her skirt. He spotted the pistol he hadn’t known she was wearing. Her hand steadied as she pulled it out and set it on the seat beside her. She wanted this over and done with as much as he.
Beau maintained his speed as he reached the straightaway. The car behind him accelerated, came right up on his bumper, a big black SUV. Clenching his jaw, he pulled into the right lane and buzzed down his window.
As the SUV approached, he wrapped his hand around the pistol. The SUV pulled up right beside him, giving him a close look at the driver’s face. Broad forehead, wide nose, high cheekbones, thick black hair combed straight back. His hand tightened around the pistol grip, his finger on the trigger. For a moment through the window, he and the driver’s eyes met.
Then the man hit the gas and the SUV shot forward. At the last second, Beau saw the couple in the backseat entwined like a pair of snakes. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding rushed out. Cassidy relaxed back in her seat.
“It was a limo,” she said. “Someone else leaving the party early.”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
Beau cut her a look. “Don’t.” He set his weapon back in the compartment beneath the seat. “It could have gone the other way. At least we were prepared.”
Cassidy sighed. “You’re right.”
Now that the apparent danger was over, his gaze slid down to the holster strapped around her pale, pretty thigh. Why the gun looked so sexy he couldn’t say, but he felt a rush of heat that sent the blood straight into his groin.
Adrenaline still pumped through his veins. He planned to put it to good use when he got home. He glanced over at the sexy woman next to him. She was eyeing him like a juicy piece of meat. Seemed like the two of them were on the same page.
Beau pressed harder on the gas.
* * *
As the BMW pulled into the garage, Cassidy’s body still hummed with a combination of fear, battle-readiness, and relief. Sitting in the passenger seat, she’d been certain the driver in the black SUV planned to kill them. For a moment, memories of the crash came rushing in, bringing the bile up the back of her throat. The Lamborghini sliding, flying through the air, flipping, bouncing, landing in the field with a bone-jarring jolt.
The certainty that she was going to die.
Tonight, instead of a confrontation with a killer, the SUV was a limo, holding nothing but a young couple in the throes of making love. The nausea slowly faded. In its place, something hot and needy whispered through her. She sensed Beau’s gaze and suddenly felt flushed and overly warm, her breasts achy and sensitive.
Beau turned off the engine and they climbed out of the car. When they reached the kitchen, he caught her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I know you were thinking about the crash. Are you okay?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, that she was fine, but a funny little sound came out and she just shook her head.
Beau drew her into his arms and for several seconds just held her. He bent and softly kissed her. “It’s all right, baby. It shook me up, too.”
A breath shuddered out. “For a moment, it was like a flashback. Eve
rything came rushing back.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there.” He eased her away a little. “It’s getting late. You’ve had enough excitement for one night. Maybe you should just, you know, get some sleep.” He kissed her forehead. “Probably be good if you . . . umm . . . slept in the other room.”
She swallowed. She didn’t want to sleep in the other room. She wanted to sleep with Beau. She needed him to erase those fearful moments, make her feel safe.
“Probably be a good idea,” she said. “But I don’t want to.”
His eyes gleamed, turned a hotter, more intense shade of blue. “You sure?”
Cassidy nodded. Oh, yeah, I’m sure.
“The pool is private. None of the guards can see over the fence.”
She leaned up and kissed him, felt the warm pressure of his lips. For an instant, Beau deepened the kiss. Then he took her hand and led her outside. The night was dark and cold, the wind whipping the branches of the trees behind the patio walls.
The hot pool sat at the far end of the swimming pool, steam curling up in hazy tendrils. Beau retrieved some towels from the cabana and set them on the cement decking next to the steps leading into the heated water. She caught the glitter of a foil packet and her belly clenched with need.
Beau stripped out of his pirate costume, then helped her undress, being careful of her ribs. He descended the steps, took her hand, and led her into the chest-deep water.
“You don’t need to do anything,” he said, kissing the side of her neck. “I’ll take care of everything. You just relax and let me do the work.”
It sounded so good. He always seemed to take care of her. She let herself float in the water, her hair fanning out around her face, the warmth soothing her battered body, her tightly strung nerves. Beau spent long moments just kissing her, nibbling the corners of her mouth, the side of her neck. He trailed hot kisses over her breasts, her belly, between her legs.
Heated water surrounded her, buoyed her, allowed her to do nothing but feel. Beau took full advantage, sampling and tasting, building the hunger inside her. By the time he stretched out on his back on the stairs and drew her on top of him, she was on fire for him.
A little sound came from her throat as he began to kiss her again, lifted and settled her astride him. Her heart beat faster. Need sank low in her belly. She wanted him so badly.
Shifting a little, she slowly took him inside her, biting her lip to hold back a moan. She loved the feeling of fullness, the intimacy of having him as close as two people could get.
“Easy . . .” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She ran a finger over his lips. “You won’t hurt me.” But even as she said the words she knew they weren’t true. Once this was over, Beau would be gone. She loved him. When he left, the pain would cut deep.
She leaned forward, rested her hands on his shoulders. Moved a little, heard him groan.
“God, I want you,” he said.
She wanted him, too. She always seemed to want him. But along with the sex, she wanted him in her life. She wanted him to feel for her the things that he had felt for Sarah.
Beau slid a hand around the back of her neck, pulled her mouth down to his for a deep, burning kiss. Gripping her hips, he held her in place to accept his thrusts, driving deep, stirring the hunger. Her skin felt hot and tight. Sensation blazed through her. The adrenaline rush returned, pumping pleasure through her blood instead of fear.
She pressed a hot, wet kiss on his mouth, her damp curls cocooning them, surrounding them in heat and darkness. His hands found her breasts as she rode him. He was mindful of her ribs, moving slowly and with care, which only excited them more.
She took him deeper, felt a shudder move through his long, hard body as he fought for control. Riding the edge of climax, Cassidy kissed him. “Let go, honey,” she whispered.
Beau groaned and his muscles went tense. Gripping her hips, he drove into her, doing his best not to hurt her, building the heat, driving them both insane. Her release came swift and hard, a rush of pleasure so sweet tears stung her eyes.
I’m falling so in love with you, she thought as she began to spiral down, but she didn’t say it. Beau wouldn’t want to hear it. His love remained locked in the past. It was sad. It was unfair. But it was true.
Cassidy consoled herself that for now he was hers. She would enjoy their time together. When it was over, she vowed, she wouldn’t look back. She would just let him go.
She pressed a last soft kiss on his lips. In the meantime, she would sleep well tonight and regain a little more of her strength.
Tomorrow they had work to do.
* * *
Beau sat at the desk in his study, going over work emails and generally playing catch-up. Running Tex/Am’s sales division wasn’t an easy job. No matter what was happening in his personal life, there were things he needed to do.
He typed half a dozen replies, then sent a message to Marty, asking him to postpone a dinner engagement with one of the company’s biggest customers, find a way to smooth the man’s ruffled feathers. The email whooshed into cyberspace, and Beau leaned back in his chair.
Last night, after they’d come in from the hot pool and gone to bed, Cassidy had curled up beside him and fallen deeply asleep. He hadn’t awoken her this morning. She needed her rest, needed to heal. He still couldn’t handle thinking about the crash that had nearly killed her. He had embroiled her in this. If something happened to her, the fault would be his.
He shoved the unwanted thought away, along with the chest-deep ache that came with the idea of losing her. He didn’t want to think about that, either.
He looked up as she wandered into the study yawning, looking sleepy eyed and well tumbled. He thought about making love to her last night, how good it always was between them. She walked over and gave him a peppermint-toothpaste kiss and he felt the kick.
“Good morning,” she said.
Beau pulled her down on his lap and gave her a far more thorough greeting. “Good morning.”
Cassidy gave a kitteny little mew of pleasure, then pushed him away. “You should have awoken me. We have work to do.”
She was right, so he didn’t argue, pushed thoughts of hauling her back to bed out of his mind.
Cassidy sat down on her side of the partners’ desk and turned on her laptop. She yawned. “Let’s start with Ashley Stanfield, Vaughn’s date at the party last night, see how she fits in.”
While Cassidy busied herself, Beau went in and got her a cup of coffee, which she moaned over and sipped gratefully.
“Thanks. I feel better already.” She typed a few more lines, took another sip of coffee, and started reading info on the computer screen. “Ashley Stanfield’s twenty-nine years old, graduated from Wellesley, does some modeling, wants to be a Broadway actress. She’s all over Instagram. Has a big following on Facebook. Her father is Theodore Stanfield. He’s a Texas billionaire.”
Beau took a drink of coffee and studied the screen over her shoulder. “Now I remember why the name sounded familiar. I’ve met Stanfield a couple of times. Made his money in the beauty business.”
“Theodore Stanfield owns a line of hair and skin products, and a chain of spas with salons in all the major cities.”
“If he’s a client of Vaughn’s, he must be an investor. Far as I know, the guy wouldn’t need to borrow money.”
Cassidy clicked to a few different locations. “I’m not seeing any connections between Stanfield and your father or Milford.”
“Can’t fault a guy for hoping. Maybe we’ll turn up something later.”
Cassidy started typing. “Let’s take a look at Senator Scott Watson.” She clicked her mouse a couple of times and an article about his death popped up in the Dallas Morning News.
“Check this out,” she said. “Scott Watson died from anaphylactic shock. According to this, Watson had a severe allergy to peanuts. Somehow one got into his lunch. He was alone when it happened. He fell unconscious, died a few hours later.
”
“A peanut got into his lunch,” Beau repeated with mild disbelief. He sighed. “I guess those things happen. Assuming it was anything but an accident seems like overkill.”
Cassidy flicked him a glance at the word. “You’re right. There’s no reason to suspect it was anything more sinister than a fatal mistake.”
But the phrase she had used popped into his head. Seems like the body count is rising.
“I need to take a shower before we meet with Mrs. Watson, but first let’s check my phone, see if the audio device in Vaughn’s car is working.” She retrieved her cell, but the indicator light wasn’t on. It was Sunday morning. After a late night out, Vaughn was probably still sleeping. Or maybe he got lucky and Ashley Stanfield was keeping him entertained.
“Let’s see where he went after he left the party.” Cassidy brought up the GPS software and a map popped up on the screen. The GPS was working. Beau watched the pulsing signal, a stationary dot at Vaughn’s address in Turtle Creek.
Cassidy went backwards to the original time stamp, the date the vehicle began to move, setting the device in motion at 12:15 P.M. last night. The dot moved along the road from the Westhaven Country Club, made a stop on Lawther Drive in Lakewood, then drove straight to the current location in Turtle Creek.
“Lakewood,” Beau said. “Pricey neighborhood.”
“I’m guessing the stop he made was Stanfield’s house.”
Beau grinned. “Looks like our boy Vaughn didn’t get laid.”
Cassidy chuckled. Rising, she leaned up and kissed him, then headed for the shower. Resisting the urge to join her, Beau went back to work on his emails. He needed to go into the office next week. He had sales meetings, client meetings, planning and strategy sessions.
It wasn’t going to happen. Not as long as Cassidy was in danger. A memory arose of her lying in the hospital, fluids dripping into her arm, her head swathed in bandages.
Not gonna happen again. He’d be better prepared. Both of them would be.
Half an hour later, a noise in the doorway caught his attention and he glanced up. Looking far better than she had the day before, makeup covering the bumps and bruises, she walked in wearing a navy-blue sweater with a long navy plaid skirt and boots, very professional for their meeting with the senator’s wife, as she always was when she was working.
