by Zara Chase
Fabia didn’t hesitate. Carefully, she sidled round to the door and let herself in as quietly as she could. So far, so good. If Melanie should happen to come back, she could easily explain her presence away by pretending that she’d made a cock-up of the meeting and had come in search of a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. If she was caught upstairs it would be a different matter, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
She crept up the open-tread staircase and reached the door at the top of it. Pausing to catch her breath and wait for her thumping heart to beat less erratically, Fabia reached for the handle and turned it. As she did so, she offered up a silent prayer that it would open.
It did.
She hadn’t known what to expect but gasped with surprise and pleasure when she stepped into the enormous loft. The vaulted ceilings had to be twenty feet above her head, and sunshine poured in through full-length windows that gave a great view of the runway. The furnishings were sparse but modern and tastefully chosen, the seating comfortable-looking and well used.
But it was the expansive terrace on the other side of those windows that gave her the most pleasure. It was the size of a football field and resembled a tropical jungle. Even inside the loft with the windows closed, the heady perfume of plumbago and bougainvillea combined with that of the jasmine that ran riot up the side of the building. It was an oasis of calm that took her breath away. There was a wet bar in one corner, expensive-looking patio furniture, and even a hot tub. She could imagine how peaceful it must be sitting out there with a cocktail, watching the sun go down.
Fabia gave herself a mental shake. Now wasn’t the time to admire the taste of their garden designer. She was here, and time was short, so what was she looking for precisely? She’d been so fixated on gaining access that she hadn’t stopped to think about that. Sonia was close to these guys. She still is. Keep thinking about her in the present tense, Fabia. How close? Sonia was a pretty girl. Unless she’d read the guys all wrong during the brief glimpses she had stolen of them in that meeting, Sonia’s looks and feisty personality wouldn’t have escaped Peyton’s and Clyde’s notice. Which one would she have gone for? Personally speaking, in spite of her self-imposed embargo on men generally, had the circumstances been different, Fabia wouldn’t turn either of them down. Better yet, she’d take them both on.
But the circumstances were far from normal. Sonia was missing, and these two could well know something about that. Things weren’t as they should be on this development. Well, Sonia had suspected that much before insisting upon playing Nancy Drew. Fabia hadn’t been convinced, but since the meeting she’d just attended, she, too, had her doubts. These two had been here before the development sprang up. If something was going on, they had to be part of it. Didn’t they?
If Sonia had been in this loft, which Fabia thought she probably had, even though she hadn’t come right out and said so, perhaps she’d left something behind. Some clothes maybe, toiletries, or other personal stuff like women do when they want to stake a claim. She ought to search their bedrooms, just to make sure. But perhaps there was a study with paperwork lying around that would point her in the right direction. Anything would help because, right now, two weeks of sweating away on the tennis courts and asking intrusive questions had got her precisely nowhere.
Fabia pushed open a door and found herself in a neatly arranged study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and pictures of various aircraft lined the walls. More interestingly, there was a tall file cabinet in one corner. Now that had to be worthy of further investigation. Moving quietly so that Melanie wouldn’t hear her from below, she crossed the room and tried the drawers. Shit, they were all locked! She had no idea how to pick locks and even less inclination to try.
Reverting to plan B, she headed for the bedrooms. The two large rooms housed neatly made beds and no sign of anything out of place. Damn, why couldn’t they be slobs like everyone else? That would make it a darned sight easier to search and not let them know she’d been there. Fabia did the best she could, conscious of time passing. She peered in closets and drawers. Both men were well stocked up with condoms, but she found absolutely nothing out of place and no sign at all of feminine attire. The third bedroom, with attached bath, appeared to be a guest room, and there was nothing in it at all to interest her.
“Two rooms down and one to go,” she said softly.
The room at the end of the corridor had double doors that had called to her from the first. Instinctively, she knew she’d find something of interest in it. Perhaps that’s why she’d left it until last. She opened the doors cautiously, but the shades were drawn, and the room was in darkness. She flipped the light switch and made a sound—something between a gasp and a giggle—when the room flooded with light.
“So, they’re players,” she muttered.
There was an enormous circular bed in the centre of the room. A water bed, she was willing to bet. All sorts of hooks hung from the mirrored ceiling. Fabia felt warm all over just imagining what they were used for. It had been a while, but she didn’t have to stretch said imagination too far. She’d been in a room similar to this one before and could easily figure out what toys were in the drawers and closets that lined the walls.
“Well, well, boys. Who would have thought it?”
A sound immediately behind her caused her heart to crash against her rib cage. She spun round and found Peyton Ascot leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his impressive chest. Clyde was right behind him. Neither of them looked particularly happy to find her snooping. Not that she could blame them for that. She was trespassing, and well she knew it.
“If you want to play that badly,” Peyton said, an ironic twist to his lips, “why didn’t you come right out and say so?”
Chapter Three
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”
“Do you want to explain in here or in the sitting room?” Peyton asked in a chilling tone.
Fabia didn’t want to explain at all, but it didn’t look as though she had much choice. “The other room,” she said succinctly.
“Shame,” Clyde remarked. “I was kinda enjoying the view.”
Fabia stood hastily, belatedly realizing that she’d been bending over in her short skirt to examine the contents of a drawer. She pushed past the two men and stood in the middle of their living room, wondering what to do next.
“Well?” Peyton stood directly in front of her, his stance conveying power, strength, and a chilling brand of danger that rather excited her. She gulped back her apprehension, unable to meet his gaze. He didn’t sit and didn’t invite her to. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m Fabia Brook,” she said. “We haven’t been introduced.”
“You always break into the homes of people you’ve never met?”
“I didn’t break in exactly.”
“Really?” Peyton watched her with unnerving stillness. “Then what are you doing here, exactly?”
She ought to come right out and ask them about Sonia. It was the perfect opportunity, but something held her back. She didn’t entirely trust them. If they were Sonia’s friends and hadn’t reported her missing, what did that say about them? She played for time.
“I…I felt like a fool after the way I behaved in that meeting. I thought I’d go change before lunch but needed a shoulder to cry on.”
“Mine’s available,” Clyde said. “And I can—” Peyton shot him a look that cut off his words, and she didn’t find out what else he’d intended to say.
“Melanie and I have become friends. I thought I’d talk it through with her and see if she could tell me what I did wrong. She wasn’t around, I saw these stairs and…” She shrugged. “I was curious. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have snooped.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Clyde said.
“Like what you saw in the playroom?” Peyton asked, not saying what he thought of her flimsy explanation. Not that he needed to. It was pretty lame, and it was obvious that neither of them bought it.
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“Er, yes, I guess. It wasn’t what I expected.”
“Ever seen anything like it before?” Clyde asked.
Both men watched her closely as they waited for her to respond. Should she tell another lie? She got the impression that they’d know if she did. But if she told the truth, would they invite her to play? Did she want to play with them? Could she afford the distraction when the only thing that really mattered was finding her sister? She cast a long, considering look over each of them in turn. Neither flinched. Damn, they weren’t gonna let her off the hook.
Something in the dark weight of Peyton’s gaze made the decision for her. His eyes were a deep gray. She could see that now he’d removed his shades. They hinted at strength of character, portraying a not entirely civilized male aura that excited her and persuaded her to trust him. Hell, she needed to place her trust in someone. Besides, the warm richness in Clyde’s striking green eyes and Peyton’s penetrating, focused gaze made her aware that, in spite of their anger, they both wanted her. Her pussy flooded at the prospect. It had been a while. Damn it, she wasn’t wearing enough clothes to cover her reaction and could hardly pass that off as sweat. She needed to get out of here before they noticed.
“Yes,” she said, “I’ve been in a room like that one before.”
The men shared a glance. “Enjoy it?” Peyton asked.
She lowered her eyes to the floor. “Yes,” she said softly.
“Look at me.”
Peyton spoke in a commanding tone that caused her gaze to lift directly to his face. She said nothing, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted her to do next. She was too well trained to react to a Dom in any other way.
“Where’s your Master now?”
“It’s over. It finished six months ago.”
“No one else since?” Clyde asked.
“No.”
Clyde glanced at Peyton. “No wonder she liked what she saw in our room.”
“I apologize again for snooping,” she said, glancing at her watch, “but I have to go. I have a student waiting.”
“You still haven’t told us what you were looking for,” Peyton said.
“I told you, I—”
“I know what you told us, but it was bullshit.” Peyton’s face darkened with anger. “You’re a player, so you know the rules. You have to be completely honest with us, otherwise we won’t—”
“I haven’t agreed to play with you.”
“No.” Peyton moved a step closer to her, causing Fabia’s breath to hitch. Was he going to touch her? Kiss her? She desperately didn’t want him to and yet prayed that he would. Her body quivered with desire that had been suppressed for too long, but since she’d automatically lowered her eyes, she had no idea what his intentions were. Long fingers gripped her chin and tilted her face until she was compelled to meet his hypnotic gaze. Swirling emotions played havoc with her gut, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. “But you want to, don’t you, Fabia Brook? You want Clyde and me to fulfil a need in you, to fuck you until you’re too weak to move, until you beg for mercy. It’s all you’ve been able to think about since you found our secret room.”
Who the hell does he think he is, pretending to know what I want? “Yes,” she said softly. “The thought did cross my mind, but I can’t.”
“Why not?” Clyde asked.
“For the reason I came here in the first place.”
“Now we get to it. What reason was that?”
“I don’t have time to explain now. I need to get to that lesson.”
“Come back here at five. We’ll give you dinner and you can tell us everything.” Peyton dropped the lightest possible kiss on her lips. “Tell us what your problem is. We’re good at problems and we’ll help you solve it—”
“Problem solving is our speciality,” Clyde said, flashing a sexy smile that further tested the strength of her knees.
“What makes you think I have a problem?”
“Ah, now, Fabia, no lies,” Peyton said softly. “We’ll solve your problem, and then we’ll give you everything else that you need.”
“We’re good at that, too,” Clyde said, showing her to the door.
* * * *
“Thoughts?” Clyde asked, watching from the window as Fabia cycled away.
“No idea, but she’s more than just a tennis coach, that’s for sure. She’s got something on her mind.”
“Nothing to do with our business?”
“Nah, she wouldn’t have behaved the way she did in the meeting if that was the case.”
“Good.” Clyde grinned. “I’ve got the raging hots for her and think she could be fun.”
“Without question. But we mustn’t lose sight of what we have to do.”
“One doesn’t have to affect the other. We’ve been celibate for too long. I’m as horny as hell just looking at her.”
“No argument there.” Peyton grinned as he adjusted his pants to more comfortably accommodate the hard-on that had afflicted him throughout their dealings with Fabia. “But no touchy-feely stuff until we get the truth out of her.”
Clyde grimaced. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Go sniff around your girlfriend in Field’s office. See what you can find out about Fabia being hired at such short notice. And about what happened to Sonia, too.”
“I’m on it,” Clyde said, heading for the door.
“I’ve got to give the lovely Mrs. Stanton a lesson this afternoon, but I’ll be back before five.”
“Good luck with that,” Clyde said, chuckling. “That one will eat you alive, given half a chance.”
“Nah, I’ll get her doing touch-and-gos. That’ll frighten her shitless.”
Clyde waggled his brows. “Don’t be so sure, my friend.”
* * * *
Peyton returned from giving Mrs. Stanton her lesson with just a few minutes to spare before Fabia was due. Bloody woman had tried to drag him off to the bar for a drink afterward, and it had taken all his ingenuity to fend her off.
He half expected Fabia to find an excuse not to come back, but when he glanced out of the window just after five, he saw her cycling toward the hangar. Everyone at Tosca Brava either cycled or got around by golf cart or scooter. It was a full-fledged town, and the roads could easily support cars. They just weren’t viable for the short distances involved in getting from one place to another.
He waited until he heard her footsteps on the stairs and opened the door before she could knock. She was wearing a sundress that sculpted her body but was practical rather than sexy. She wasn’t trying to impress him, which in itself was impressive. She’d piled her hair on top of her head and applied a little makeup, but the short cycle ride had made her all hot again.
Peyton, who’d gotten over his annoyance at her earlier intrusion, gave her a once-over and grinned his appreciation. Even that unflattering dress couldn’t hide her toned body, and she needed to know that he liked what he saw. After an hour of being up close and personal in a small cockpit with the overdressed, overly made-up Mrs. Stanton, Fabia was a breath of fresh air. Even so, he had momentary doubts about getting involved with her. Instinct suggested that she’d be more than just a diversion. Peyton had had his fair share of beautiful women, but there was something about Fabia that attracted him on a visceral level. He wanted more than to just get inside her pants, which had to be a first and set him on his guard.
Goddamn it, what have I gotten myself into?
He reminded himself that she was both preoccupied and desperate enough to risk searching their loft. What did she suspect him and Clyde of doing? That she suspected them at all ought to worry the hell out of Peyton. Instead, it made him determined to do whatever he could to help her out, regardless of his own more pressing commitments.
“Come in,” he said, stepping back. “You’re just in time for a cocktail.”
“Good.” She appeared more composed this time, and Peyton regretted letting her escape earlier. He’d given her the opportunity to think up a
more believable excuse for snooping. “I could use one.”
“Margarita okay?” Clyde called from the kitchen.
“Perfect.”
They took their drinks out onto the terrace. Fabia sighed as she sank onto a swing seat and took a healthy sip of her drink. Clyde put dishes of olives and salty nibbles on the table beside her.
“This is lovely,” she said. “Not the drink…Well, that is lovely, but the terrace. It’s a peaceful haven.”
“Except when the planes taxi by,” Clyde pointed out.
She popped a black olive in her mouth and sighed with pleasure. “That doesn’t happen too much, does it?”
“Depends on business,” Clyde said. “And thanks for saying good things about our garden. We like it.”
“Clyde’s the gardener,” Peyton said, “so I guess you’re complimenting him.”
She flashed Clyde a surprised look. “You did this yourself?”
“Guilty as charged. Never could get a bloody thing to grow in the Scottish climate, so I’ve made up for it here.”
“The perfume is almost too much,” she said, breathing it in deeply. “I love jasmine especially.”
Clyde broke a twig off and gently tucked it behind her ear. “Suits you,” he said, winking at her.
The two guys sat across from her, giving her a moment to relax, get some of her drink inside her, and gather her thoughts.
“Come on, then,” Peyton said when he judged the time was right. They couldn’t just sit listening to the cicadas going about their noisy business all night. They needed to tackle the subject that would prevent either of them laying a finger of Fabia until they knew the truth. And laying more than just a finger on her was already a priority in Peyton’s mind. Even so, he wouldn’t do it if he thought she was holding out on them or if her purpose for being here conflicted with their own agenda. “You might as well tell us what you were doing here before we eat.”
She expelled a long breath. Peyton could sense that she’d decided to be honest with them and was relieved. He didn’t doubt that he could take her into subspace and get the truth out of her that way. She was a well-trained sub and he was a powerful Dom, but he didn’t want to exploit his power over her unless he absolutely had to.
