“Right.”
She didn’t believe him for a minute. She just shook her head and entered the bedroom closing the door.
By the time she’d emerged from the bedroom dressed in a pair of black leggings and a long white T-shirt, he had all the food laid out on the table and was leaning against the arch at the entrance to the kitchen door.
He missed the black robe.
• • •
At seven hundred and fifty square feet, the two-bedroom house was the perfect size for Markie. With Beck standing there it appeared tiny all of a sudden.
He’d shown up for their meeting that morning in a navy suit, white shirt and a navy tie. The jacket and tie were gone and the shirt unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off strong arms.
There was something about the way his gaze ran over her body that made her feel like she wanted to jump out of her skin. It also made her forget the pain in her body and her throbbing eye.
When she tried to pass him at the kitchen door, his body pressed hers against the doorframe and a slow lazy smile settled on his lips. He wanted to play and was looking for a playmate.
His lips touched hers. Gentle at first, as if he was testing to see what her reaction would be. Then he started out with a slow long kiss that made her legs turn to jelly and she returned with a kiss that told him without a doubt he’d found his playmate.
Her arms circled his waist, pulling him closer still. It has been a long time since she’d allowed anyone to get this close to her, to touch her this way and she didn’t want him to stop.
She needed it. Needed him in ways she hadn’t wanted anyone before. She came to the conclusion that she could get use to the warmth of his kiss and his caress.
Leaving the world behind and allowing him to set the pace, she was lost in a wave of passion she didn’t want to end.
Nothing mattered but the feel of him and she wanted more. She pulled his shirt out of his pants, sliding her hands up his back under the shirt. His skin felt hot against her palms.
Nothing mattered but the taste of him and she opened her mouth accepting his tongue. His response was a groan of pure satisfaction as their tongues danced together. Then his stomach rumbled and she laughed against his lips pulling away.
“No,” he groaned out capturing her lips again, but it was her stomach that interrupted this time. “Let’s satisfy the food hunger first.” He touched his forehead to hers.
His eyes settled on her lips and with one final kiss, he took her hand and led her to the table pulling out her chair.
“Everything looks good,” Markie said, trying not to react to his blatant stare as she spooned the chicken and pasta salad onto her plate. She took up his plate. “What do you want?”
“You.” His gaze was bold. Hot.
The enamel plate slipped from her hand and hit the table landing on the silverware. “Oh, you meant the food,” he chuckled. “I can take what I want. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
She picked up the plate and handed it to him. He proceeded to fill it up with the chicken and pasta salad. Then he opened the napkin, placing it across his lap. She watched him put a fork full of chicken salad into his mouth and licked his lips.
“This is good. I can see why you like it.”
His eyes settled on her mouth again as he picked up the wine bottle and she realized he was a lefty. And a sexy one too. Everything about the man was sexy. And the kiss? Lord have mercy… She was still reeling from that.
“Wine?”
“Not yet.”
Markie looked down at the food she spooned on her plate. It wasn’t the wine she wanted or the food. It was Beck and he knew it too. His leg brushed against hers under the table and he smiled. He did it on purpose. Not once but twice.
She felt like she was on fire…a wild fire burning out of control. Reaching for the pitcher of water, she poured herself a glass. She finished it and poured another, but it didn’t put out the fire.
• • •
Sydney opened her eyes to a brown blur and realized she was face down on the floor. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there. When she tried to get up a sharp pain shot through her right side. Blondie must have zapped her again. Her knuckles felt sore and she worked her fingers to ease the pain. Perhaps her fist did connect to Blondie’s jaw after all before her lights went out.
She pushed herself up from the floor. That was when she saw the bottle of water under the cot. It must have rolled under during her scuffle with Blondie. She sat staring at the water, almost afraid to grab it. Wanting it yet thinking it was an illusion like her life.
As hard as she tried not to disappoint Nan and Markie it never seemed to work. She didn’t set out to disappoint them. It just happened. Like when she used Nan’s house as collateral against a loan. Nan said it was okay. When she couldn’t pay back the loan the bank came for Nan’s house. Markie stepped in and saved Nan’s house. She and Markie had never gotten past that.
How did her life get so out of control? How did she end up so afraid and alone?
It started because she was an insomniac, had been since Derrick’s death in Afghanistan. Don’t think about Derrick.
Focus.
Think. She forced herself to remember how she ended up in a storage room struggling to reach a bottle of water under a smelly cot.
Her assignment was to photograph the interior of Macy Henning’s newly decorated six-bedroom, three bathroom house for Upscale Design Magazine. It had a master bath the size of Sydney’s entire apartment. The designer—Anika Taylor, interior designer to the stars.
It was coming back to her now. She thought it would be better to photograph the house while Macy was on vacation. Macy was not only the homeowner, but also Derrick’s sister.
Arriving mid-afternoon that day…Friday, Sydney had taken most of the pictures required. When she’d lost the natural lighting needed, she’d decided to spend the night at Macy’s and finish up in the morning.
That night she couldn’t sleep and decided to explore the historic neighborhood of Jamaica Plains.
Derrick said she was good at photography and she loved him for saying it. It gave her the encouragement she needed. After he said that, she never went anywhere without her camera and that included strolling down a quiet tree-lined street.
Sydney wasn’t sure what was going on, but when she’d seen the two men loading what looked like paintings in the Beck Security Systems van she knew something didn’t feel right. The more pictures she took, the more the idea formed in her mind that she could make a career out of taking pictures and everyone would be proud of her, even Markie. Markie wouldn’t have to bail her out anymore.
Sydney didn’t think anyone had seen her behind the oak tree just four doors down from Macy’s house. When she’d taken enough pictures she ran back to Macy’s house, grabbed her car and hightailed it home. She’d downloaded the pictures from her camera to her computer that night printed a set and hid them. The following day she called Markie.
In retrospect, calling Beck about the pictures as well wasn’t a smart move. She didn’t even think he would be in the office on a Saturday and was surprised when he’d picked up his line. The day after she’d called him she was picked up by Blondie and her thugs. That would put her abduction on Sunday.
The throbbing in her head was getting worse. Then she remembered she’d banged her head when she hit the floor.
Water. She reached under the cot and for the bottle of water, opened the bottle and drank too quickly causing her to choke.
She put the lid back on the water bottle leaving some for later and pushed herself up off the floor. With some effort she took her time and flipped the mattress on the cot before sitting down. At least the other side of the mattress didn’t smell as revolting.
Closing her eyes, she lay on her left side with her hands under her jaw, pulling her knees up to her chest, willing herself to keep calm.
Markie would find her just like she found the pictures.
Chapter Seven
The kitchen was full of raw sexual energy. Beck made sure Markie knew what he was thinking and what he wanted when the meal was over as he watched her while she ate. Markie didn’t think she could deny him what he wanted. She wanted the same thing.
The corner of his mouth turned up into a seductive smile and she remembered the kiss they’d shared. How his mouth felt against hers…how his hand felt against her skin and she pulled on the neck of her T-shirt.
All she could think about was her dream. The clear blue water…the hot sun…the way he smelled…a spicy woody scent.
He put his fork down and asked out of the blue. “Ever been married?”
She half laughed. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. You’re beautiful, smart and very talented. Beautiful.”
“You said beautiful already.”
“I know. It’s worth repeating. Even the black eye looks sexy.”
“I think you’re good for my ego.”
“I was hoping to be more than just good for your ego, sweetheart.”
“That’s not a bad place to start.”
She didn’t want to talk about marriage and wanted to keep the mood light between them.
“I’m all for stroking the ego among other things,” he said with a smile taking flirting one step further. Are you going to answer my question or side step it all together?”
Beck was persistent. He wanted an answer and wasn’t going to be happy until he got one. She wasn’t prepared to give him one.
“Is marriage all it’s cracked up to be? You were married and it ended in a bitter divorce.”
Beck poured wine in his glass before he answered. “We both started out wanting the same things and then we didn’t.”
He became serious. Like a shift of the wind his playful mood changed and he had a faraway look in his eyes. It made her wonder if he still carried a torch for his dead wife.
“That simple.” Her gaze narrowed on his face. “You’ve summed up the dissolution of your marriage into one sentence.”
“There was nothing simple about it. It tore me apart. I had to put it into perspective to move on. I thought I’d found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, to share my dreams. In the end, we didn’t want the same things. Then when I got into the car accident, I emerged less than perfect and I think my shortcomings were too much for her to handle.”
“What do you mean?”
Beck sipped his wine then placed the glass back on the table. “I was damaged goods.” He pointed to the scars at the base his neck. “It goes to about mid waist.”
He avoided her glance, staring at the red liquid in the glass. It was clear he wasn’t as comfortable with his scars as he appeared to be. At the meeting that morning he’d said after his divorce he was broke. Monika had taken a lot more from him than just his money.
“That’s my story. What about you? Ever been asked to take the plunge?”
The marriage question again and she couldn’t side step the question. Not after what he had just shared with her.
“I’ve never been married, but I’ve been asked.” Markie didn’t want to talk about her relationship with Jared and changed the subject. “What did the company lawyer have to say this afternoon?”
She picked up her half empty plate and got up to go to the sink. He caught her hand and took the plate from her setting it back on the table. His thumb began stoking the back of her hand and she sat down again pulling her hand away.
“No running away, sweetheart. I told you about my divorce. It’s your turn to share. Why didn’t you say yes?” His eyes held hers and a smile played at his lips.
“I said yes. But he decided I wasn’t what he wanted anymore.”
“Why?” His smile disappeared.
Markie didn’t respond. She didn’t want to talk about it. Why did he have to pry?
“Why?” He asked again reaching across the table lacing his fingers through hers. “Why did he change his mind?”
“Damaged goods.”
“I don’t understand?” Sheer confusion settled on his face and she knew she had to explain.
“Most men have aspirations as far as children are concerned.” She pulled her hands away. “They want a son to carry on the family name or maybe a little girl to walk down the aisle one day. Since I was told I couldn’t have any, it was a moot point.” She raised her wine glass. “I think I’ll have that wine after all. Then you can tell me about your meeting.”
“Whoa. You can’t say something like that and change the subject.”
“Why not?”
Beck made no move to fill her wine glass. He sat there staring at her. Was it pity or shock? She couldn’t tell and didn’t want to know.
Her hand shook as she picked up the bottle of wine. She thought she’d gotten over the hurt Jared had caused when he’d told her he couldn’t go through with the wedding but she was wrong.
The invitations were sent, the church was booked, the caterer was hired and a month before the wedding the groom-to-be couldn’t go through with it. He could live with anything else…the deal breaker was children. He wanted his own and she couldn’t have any.
The odds they’d given her on getting pregnant were not worth dwelling on. What were the words the doctor had used? More than likely. More than likely she would not conceive.
Jared didn’t like the odds. What he wanted was assurance not ‘more than likely’ and that she couldn’t give him.
Markie had decided not to open herself up to that hurt again, but had taken the chance and told the man who had made her want to think about marriage again. The look in his eyes was the same one Jared had.
Pity. It had to be.
She couldn’t stand it and pushed him away before she got pushed away. What was she thinking?
They were together to have a business meeting and nothing more she told herself pushing the kiss they’d just shared out of her mind. He was a client. The number one rule you don’t break in business—Never get involved with a client and she was beyond involved.
“The purpose of the dinner is for you to fill me in on your meeting earlier and also discuss how Jamie can assist you.”
“Marklynn?”
She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. She couldn’t take it and pushed him further away.
“May I remind you that the reason we’re together is to find my sister and—”
“This isn’t about Sydney or Beck Security Systems. It’s about you.”
“It’s all about Sydney and what happened to her and your connection to her disappearance.”
The accusation that he might have something to do with Sydney’s disappearance had reared its ugly head once again. It was her anger talking and she said the one thing she knew would hurt him.
“Just to be clear,” his eyes burned with anger. “What’s happening between us means nothing because it’s all about finding Sydney.”
“Yes.” She lied. Lying was easier than facing the truth. Lying was easier because she could keep him at arms length.
“Have you given any thought as to why Sydney took those pictures in the first place, given her history? Yes, I know about her colorful background.”
Marklynn had given a lot of thought as to why Sydney took the pictures. She didn’t like the conclusion she arrived at. She didn’t want to believe her sister was capable of blackmail or involved with what was going on at Beck’s company. There had to be another explanation. Yet, she couldn’t come up with one given Sydney’s past.
“God forbid if you should care about anyone else but Sydney.”
Beck threw his napkin down on the table and got up. She turned away from his probing gaze. The concern that was reflected in his intense dark eyes turned to anger. Anger she could deal with, not pity.
“I have to focus on finding her.”
“She calls, you jump. Is that it?”
“My sister is missing! She’s my responsibility.�
�� Her parents said so and Nan said so she wanted to shout at him.
“Twenty-four hours ago a pick up truck just about ran you over.” He frowned. “Finding her doesn’t have to be your responsibility alone. You’ve an office full of investigators. Let them help you. Jamie could’ve handled the meeting this morning. God,” he raked his hand through his hair, “you could’ve been killed last night!”
“I can take care of myself.” First Nan, then Jamie now Beck…all of a sudden everyone was jumping on the “you’re not alone train.” She could take care of herself and had been doing it far too long to depend on anyone now, let alone Beck.
“Look at you…if you’re not careful you’ll fall flat on your face.”
“I don’t intend to fall flat on my face. I can do what needs to get done which is to find Sydney.”
Not liking the way he was glaring down at her, she got up from the table and left the kitchen. He followed behind her when she entered the living room and moved over to the window, her back to him.
“Sydney is a big girl and I’m sure she can take care of herself if given the chance.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She whirled around feeling a sharp pain in her back. Her eye throbbed.
“Sydney is not a child and her problems are not yours to shoulder. Help her, yes, but trying to fix her problems or her is not your job. She calls and you get shot at and—”
“You sound like Jamie. I’m not having this conversation with you.”
He went on without even acknowledging the fact that she’d spoken. “If you allow Sydney to take responsibility for her life, then you would be free to live yours. Or maybe you’re afraid.” Dark eyes locked with hers.
“My relationship with my sister is none of your business, Beck.”
“Maybe you need to—”
“I think you should leave.”
She didn’t think he was going anywhere until he turned on his heel and headed for the front door.
“Get some rest,” he said closing the door quietly behind him.
Appetite gone, Markie returned to the kitchen and dumped the food in the garbage. Then she crawled into bed. Her conversation with Beck had taken center stage in her mind.
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