“One more thing you should know. William Parkhurst was Matthew Morrison’s closest friend since grade school.”
While Genardi had informed him the two were friends, the depth of the friendship had not been known. It would have been good information to have. Now they knew the reason Morrison was so persistent. The likelihood he had or would give up, as Genardi implied, given the length of that friendship and the time devoted, was and always had been unlikely. The man should have been dissuaded more thoroughly from the very first.
“You are fucking kidding me.”
Lovell could practically hear the fury and the panic radiate through the cell phone.
“The problem,” Lovell said, “will be taken care of.”
His voice tight, Maxwell replied, “I don’t want to know the details, just see that it is. There’s too much at stake.”
The phone was abruptly silent.
Considering Lovell’s own portfolio, plus his rather significant bonuses, he was forced to agree. He was well on his way to becoming a very wealthy man.
Neither Morrison’s persistence nor Genardi’s incompetence was going to change that.
No sooner had he ended that connection than he called Genardi.
“Did you get the report?” he asked harshly.
Hesitantly, Genardi answered, “I’m going over it now.”
“A little late. The man has successfully eluded us for weeks and it never occurred to you to do a more thorough background check?”
Genardi said, “Not after speaking to Mrs. Parkhurst and my people did catch him fairly easily.”
“And lost him,” Lovell said coldly. “He escaped, with assistance from a woman. Did it never occur to you who the only other person was in the building that night? None other than Miss O’Donnell. He stopped trying to elude our security because he’d found his way in. What I want to know now is, how much do they know and where are they now?”
Lovell heard papers rustle.
“According to our schedule she’s installing in Albuquerque Monday,” Genardi said. “It’s too late now to intervene, she’s either on her way home or in transit to Albuquerque.”
“Find out. Where she is, Morrison is, most likely,” Lovell snapped. “Book a flight out for a flight to Albuquerque for the first thing Monday morning. I’ll meet you there. And get rid of that damned phone.”
J. Gordon Maxwell put down the cell phone and considered his options. He trusted Lovell implicitly, he paid the man enough, but sometimes his methods were a little too direct. There was more than one way to skin a cat, and more than one way a man could be persuaded.
Sometimes a more subtle approach was needed.
Lovell wouldn’t like it but Lovell wasn’t the CEO.
It wouldn’t hurt to try.
And since Marathon had gotten them into this, Marathon – in the form of Philip Alden – would get them out of it.
Picking up the phone again he called his counterpart with Marathon.
Chapter Eighteen
It was with an air of anticipation that they boarded the plane for Phoenix. Matt was clearly glad to be going home. Ariel was excited to be going to Matthew’s home and a city she’d never visited but had always wanted to see.
From the sky everything about the city had been a surprise to her. It sprawled. Mountains and rocky hills rose around it in unexpected places and one had a stadium built into the side of it. Now, standing outside the terminal and looking around, the sky was virtually cloudless, the color of old denim. Ariel blinked as they walked out into the brightness and full heat of summer. She could almost feel her skin shrink in the scorching air.
Matt grinned. “As we natives like to say, ‘but it’s a dry heat’.”
Laughing, she said, “Like a blast furnace.”
“It’s easy to get dehydrated out here and you’re not used to it, so keep a drink handy,” he said, flicking a finger down her nose.
Ariel smiled.
He had a pickup for working around the ranch but that’s not what he’d driven to the airport, that was the sports car. His indulgence. A convertible, of course. Not flashy but with plenty of power. Despite the heat, for Ariel’s pleasure he left the top down so she could see the city. He drove her through the heart of it so she could see it and then headed out into the country. Towards home.
The city of Phoenix was a huge improvement over Houston. It was actually very pretty, with carefully thought-out landscaping along the highways and off ramps. There were a lot of subdivisions but without the dingy dirtiness of Houston and downtown felt very open for a city. Spanish style architecture dominated, the wall of houses stuccoed in shades of gold or pink, many with terra-cotta colored curved tile roofs. There were few tall buildings except downtown and one of those was the courthouse. Everything was clearly marked and the roads were wide.
Driving through the tonier, more upscale suburb of Scottsdale was a stark contrast. Parts of it were like a western version of Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles. Phoenix was new but comfortable, like an old shoe, a place where you could put your old boots up on the cocktail table, in Scottsdale you wouldn’t dream of putting them up on any table and the boots would be made of ostrich. Jeans in Scottsdale didn’t say Levi’s, Wrangler’s or Lee, they had the name of some designer tucked somewhere discreet but visible, unless someone was slumming.
Outside the city it was starkly beautiful and incredibly open. There was so much sky it amazed her. All of it that shade of faded denim. She could see for miles in the clear, dry air. There wasn’t a scrap of cloud. The desert rolled, cut through with arroyos, climbing up to the mountains in the distance. Everywhere she turned there were cactuses of all kind and scrub grass. The air was dry but smelled incredibly clean.
Matt glanced over at Ariel, at her look of open delight. She tilted her head back to feel the sun on her face, her thick, dark hair bound back with a scarf. The ends of the scarf fluttered in the wind. She smiled. Something within him relaxed completely.
He turned down the road to the house and Ariel simply stared.
It was a pretty little Spanish-style house, with curved archways leading to a shaded veranda, cast-iron grill work on the windows, the stuccoed walls in a pale but warm shade of pink that was almost coral.
Inside a cast iron chandelier hung over the entryway. In the living room the floors were terracotta colored tiles covered with a large Navaho-style rug in front of an arched hearth. The main room was comfortably cool. Two wing-back chairs and a sofa – not one of the overstuffed monstrosities you usually saw these days – all in leather, sat before a fireplace. The kitchen had cast iron racks for hanging pots and pans above an island/bar with stools. A plain plank table and chairs were arranged in the dining area. A standard bath was the first door down the hall. There were two spare bedrooms and the master bedroom, where Matthew finally put down their luggage.
It was a great room, in description and size, dominated by a king size bed with a very lofty mattress. Long low dressers rather than nightstands flanked it. Brightly woven rugs covered the floors. Through a door to one side she could see a master bath, dominated by a huge whirlpool tub to one side and a shower enclosure to the other, all tiled and cool.
The bed, though? It was a very big bed.
Ariel looked at the long length of Matthew and then looked at the size of the bed, a grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.
He looked back, starting to smile himself. “It used to be too big.”
Restraining laughter, she said, “It is too big. I thought only Texans liked things large.”
“I don’t know,” he said, “let’s see.”
In one quick move he swept her off her feet and tossed her into the center of it, then pounced on her, threading his fingers through hers to hold her there. Looking down into her sparkling, big blue eyes with their long, dark lashes, the curve of her mouth, he lowered his head to kiss her, gently. She slid her hands up into his hair, to pull him down and deepen the kiss. He loved to kiss her, to feel h
er and taste her.
Ariel couldn’t think of anything else but the feel of his mouth on hers, the delicate tickle of his tongue along her lips. She sighed, blissfully.
“Still think it’s too big?” he said.
She looked up into his green eyes and smiled. “I think we’ll have plenty of room.”
“We will, later,” he said, “come on, there’s more I want to show you.”
Astonished she said, “More?”
There was. Cool and inviting, another shaded veranda faced the mountains. A tiled apron surrounded a large, in-ground pool. The water seemed to beckon, glimmering in the sunlight. Beyond that there was a small stable and a corral. Between the house and the mountains, though, it seemed there was nothing but desert.
“We’ll go riding tomorrow if you’d like,” Matt said, wrapping his arms around her waist, “in the morning when it’s cooler.”
“Matthew,” she said, “this is wonderful. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. He’d very much hoped she would.
Her voice awed, Ariel said, “Like it? I love it. How can you stand to leave it?”
It was so beautiful, so open.
“Sometimes I can’t. Let’s go rustle up some dinner,” he said.
There were times when he couldn’t bear to leave it and times he’d wished he had someone who would appreciate it to share it with. He was beginning to believe that now he did.
They cooked steaks and vegetables on the grill, the fragrant smell of mesquite drifting on the air and ate watching the sun set behind the mountains. It was peaceful and quiet. A tranquility settled over them, the strain of the last weeks dropping away for a little while. The problem of Marathon and Genesis was left behind for the moment. The sky turned the color of indigo and the stars began to come out. Night settled.
“I’ve never seen so many stars,” Ariel sighed.
The sky was awash with them, the broad band of the Milky Way spanned the darkness like a glittering bridge to heaven. It was silent in the way only distance from people could be silent. The breeze was the loudest sound. Far, far away, Ariel could hear the whine of tires on pavement. The lights within the pool came on automatically but Matt lit torches around it, too.
“There’s no one out here but us,” he said, quietly, “I have someone who comes in to take care of the horses when I’m gone and a housekeeper who comes in once a week.”
Ariel looked at him and sighed, smiling. “We’re free.”
Taking her in his arms, Matt smiled back and nodded and lowered his mouth to hers. The dress she wore had a zipper down the back and he slid it down slowly, the sound a purr in the quiet. His fingers slipped up her back to draw it off her shoulders, letting it fall away so he could see her. She wore a lace bra and lace panties, each revealing as much as they concealed. Her hands went to his shirt, unbuttoning each button carefully, her fingers shaking only a little, pulling the tails free to admire his broad chest, the curve of the muscles there, the firm ones in his abdomen.
“You’re amazing to see,” she said awed.
Reaching around her, he freed her breasts, too, then wrapped his hands around her ribs, cupping her breasts in his hands.
“So are you.”
Turning in his arms, Ariel’s hands went to his belt, releasing it, the button and then lowering the zipper. She slid a hand inside to stroke him. Looking up, she smiled.
Matt’s eyes closed for a moment to enjoy the feel of her hands on him.
His clothes went the way of hers, all gone and he led her into the pool. In the back of his mind there had always been the thought that he wanted to do this with her, to see how incredible she would look with the torchlight and the water light on that ivory skin. The damp ends of her thick, dark hair clung to her breasts, the water lifting them a little. His gaze traveled down to her narrow waist and full hips, the dark, curly thatch of hair between her thighs, those long white legs. Light flickered over her skin, made it seem to glow. She was radiant in the gold and green light, looking exactly as he’d thought she might.
If he only knew how beautiful he looked, Ariel thought.
The strong lines of his face were cast into relief and his green eyes mirrored the color of the water. The smooth muscular planes of his chest, the taut muscles of his stomach and the long muscles of his legs, his desire was plain.
Matt wouldn’t rush this. Not a moment of it. His hands in her hair, he tilted her face up to his so he could kiss her forehead tenderly, then placed a gentle kiss beside each lovely eye before he took her mouth.
Deeply, he explored the taste and the feel of her. Her mouth moved beneath his, their tongues tangling, feeding his hunger for her. Her hands brushed across his chest, sending eddies of cooler and warmer water swirling around him. His own curled around the weight of her breasts, the water smoothing the way. Light glimmered in her eyes when he drew away a moment to look at her.
So beautiful, an ivory water sprite with the light dancing over her.
He drove his mouth harder on hers and she met him, their mouths hungry.
Hands slid over skin, touching, trying, pleasing.
He loved the feel of her, running his hands up her back as he felt her breasts press against his chest, her nipples hard. His hands slid slowly down the length of her back to the firm roundness of her bottom. He cupped that to press her against the hardness of him. So hard. He wanted her. Not yet. His mouth moved to her throat, pressed at the curve of it where it met her shoulder, savoring her there and she trembled. Then down, to close around the fullness of her, to try to take it all in, then sipping, nibbling at the hardness at the tip of each breast as she half lay in the curve of his arm, nearly floating. Closing his mouth around the full rosy tip, he suckled lightly and drew on it. She moaned.
Her hand was curled around the hardness of him, stroking and caressing.
Matt slipped his hand between her ivory thighs, his fingers sliding through the crisp dark curls.
“I’m the only one who can hear you, Ariel,” he said, softly.
He wanted to hear her pleasure, hear the joy in her voice when she called his name.
Deftly, he touched that small sweet spot between her legs, slid his fingers along the delicate folds, tantalizing, caressing.
She gasped as he stroked and played, teasing her until she begged. His fingers were dancing over her, coaxing more from her, holding her quivering on the brink. Her body quivered like a tuning fork and Matt could feel the heat wash beneath her skin. This time, this time, he wouldn’t let her hold back, knowing she did, that she kept some part of herself safe.
“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing his mouth against the full roundness of her breast.
He wanted the words, needed to hear them.
Drawing on her, his mouth around the rosy darkness of her nipple, he suckled harder.
Her body trembled. The pent up pleasure was nearly pain. Ariel was nearly mindless with it, wanting him, needing him. Loving him.
Something within her let go, releasing her.
“Oh, God, I love you, Matt,” she said, clinging to him.
He kissed her hard for admitting it, for saying it finally.
Stroking, he felt her shudder wildly and sent her soaring. Sending her into rapture as he kissed her cheek.
“I love you, too, Ariel.”
As hard as steel, he wanted, needed to be inside her. Now. He slid up into her hard and deep as she pulsed and tightened around him.
“I love you, Matt,” she said, looking steadily back as he filled her.
She wanted him to know it for certain. Not the rapture but the truth. She loved him, madly.
For the joy of it Matt stroked deep into her and she cried out each time, her legs wrapped around him to pull him as far into her as she could, her body trembling, tightening. Pounding up into her, she was so hot, so tight and she felt so good. More. He wanted, needed to explode into her, fill her with him. His mouth was against her damp skin, tasting the water o
n the white column of her throat. Stroking, holding, stroking harder, driving up into her as she cried out. Deeper. He felt it coming, hers and his. Ecstasy exploded through them.
Limp and sated, they settled at the end of the pool, her within his arms, floating a little and listening to the sounds of the night. Both were contented, her head on his shoulder.
“I love you, Ariel,” he said, against her lips.
Touching his face, she whispered, “I love you, too.”
For a while they lay there, floating, watching the stars. At last with a sigh, they got up, hand in hand, to go to bed. Curled up around her in his big bed, he kissed her softly.
Breakfast was early the next morning. They made breakfast together, Ariel making the coffee and the toast while he handled the eggs and bacon.
Matt showed her how to saddle her horse and Ariel listened attentively, paying close attention to what his hands were doing. Sometimes he had to touch her, though, to pull her close for a kiss, or to caress her face or hair. Or she had to touch him.
They rode up into the hills, not fast but steadily to let her get accustomed to riding, as he introduced her to his home, to the plants and creatures that lived there and some of his favorite places in it. Sometimes they rode in companionable silence, listening to sound of the wind and the desert.
They drove into town during the heat of the day, to the one place where Matt knew he would find Darrin – at the office, even on a Saturday. Since Matt’s mother had died, that was the one sure place to find him. Her death had been hard on both of them, she’d been ill a long time. Matt still missed her but it was harder on Darrin now in some ways, living in their house with the memories all around him. Matt knew Darrin missed her badly at times.
Like many, the architecture was as much Spanish as anything, the lines clean and so were the grounds. Everything was kept carefully native per Darrin’s instructions. Nothing on the exterior indicated what went on inside, except for a small sign outside that said Morrison Investigations. Some had suggested to Darrin that he relocate the office to Scottsdale, for the benefit of the more exclusive address. The business certainly did well enough to justify it.
Lucky Charm Page 26
