“We all do that sometimes,” Cassie said gently, her heart strings beginning to knot.
“Yes, but you’re so strong. You tell Dalton what you want, what it takes for you to be happy. You don’t accept crumbs just because he’s your husband and that’s the way things are. I think that’s wonderful, Cassie. I think you’re wonderful.”
God, she felt horrible. What a fraud! “Well, Dalton and I haven’t been married long. It’s easier to set the ground rules right off the bat. You and Grant, how long have you been married?”
Simone abruptly looked away and stood. “I need to go.”
Cassie stood, too. “I’m sorry. What did I say?”
“Nothing.” Simone shook her head. “Nothing at all—I just need to go.”
“Oh. I thought you wanted to talk. You know, just kind of girl to girl.”
“I do. I did.” Simone let out a sob and sank back down into the chair. “Grant isn’t my husband,” she whispered.
Cassie tried to look surprised. “But—but—”
“I’m married to someone else.”
That really did surprise Cassie. “Okay. Um, where is he?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Simone sighed and slouched in the chair. “It’s very complicated. Our marriage has become more of a business arrangement.”
When the discovery registered, Cassie did all she could to stay contained. She took several deep calming breaths, even pinched herself on the leg to keep from saying or doing something incredibly stupid.
Simone was Bask’s wife and they’d missed the whole damn thing. It made perfect sense. The two of them working together on the con. Who would he trust more than his own wife?
Cassie’s adrenaline climbed as another realization struck her. If Bask and Simone were married, that made him a bigamist. He was legally married to Cassie’s client, Marianne, and who knew how many other women.
True, bigamy didn’t have the same legal ramifications as fraud, but the charge would at least keep him behind bars until they could persuade other women to come forward. Dalton said there was a client list and…
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” Simone stared at her with misgiving. “I really don’t. I guess I’ve bottled up so much for so long.”
Cassie forced her attention back to the sniffling woman. She really did look awful, and Cassie suddenly hated the case. The idea that she was about to add more pain to the woman’s life made her nauseous. But then she remembered that Simone was as guilty as Bask in swindling dozens of needy, vulnerable widows and divorcées.
“I’m happy to talk to you,” Cassie said. “I know sometimes I just need to talk out loud to give myself some perspective. But don’t you think your husband should be here for this marriage encounter—”
Simone half laughed, half sobbed.
Watching her closely, Cassie added, “Maybe you should talk to Mr. Blankenship about this.”
Simone looked at her as if she were crazy. Pushing a hand through her tangled hair, she stood. “I have to go.”
“To talk to Mr. Blankenship, I hope?”
The devastation on the other woman’s face made Cassie regret fueling the fire. But then the old hardness was back and Simone’s lips lifted in a cold smile. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. I’m sure the great Mr. Blankenship will fix everything.”
She headed for the door, and then stopped with her hand on the knob. “I wasn’t here, okay?”
Cassie shrugged. “Sure.”
“I mean it,” Simone said, looking lost and frightened again. “No one can know I was here. Or about what I’ve told you. It’s important.”
“Got it.”
Simone hesitated, regret evident in her expression, in the slump of her shoulders. “Thanks, Cassie,” she murmured, and then left.
Damn. Amazing how two words could make Cassie feel like the lowest life form on earth. This part of the job was new to her and she knew she’d have to get through it without getting sappy. No matter how sorry she felt for Simone, the woman was still a criminal.
Cassie checked her watch, anxious for Dalton to return. According to today’s schedule, the session would last another twenty minutes.
Her heart still raced and she went to her suitcase and dug around until she found the small notebook she’d brought. She needed to be able to remember everything Simone said. Jotting down a few notes wouldn’t hurt. Not when her entire nervous system had gone haywire.
She checked her watch again. She couldn’t wait to talk to Dalton.
SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d dozed off, but she must have. The door closed softly and she slowly opened her eyes. Dalton smiled as he came toward her.
“Don’t get up.” He sat at the edge of the bed and laid a hand on her shoulder when she tried to lift herself up. “I’m thinking about crawling in and taking a nap myself.”
She stifled a yawn and glanced at the digital clock. “Won’t they expect us to come down for lunch?”
He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. “If you’re hungry, I’ll take care of you.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you would. Mmm…” She liked it when he licked that particular spot, right behind her ear, and then lightly bit her lobe. “How was your session?”
“A bunch of bullshit.”
“Well, that describes it well.” She moved over so he could lie down beside her. “Did you guys talk?”
“Hell, no.”
“Silly me. A bunch of guys in a room with no football on the tube…. God forbid you should have anything to say to one another.”
“Very sexist remark, honey. But that reminds me that I did hear a new joke this morning. What did the blonde do when—”
She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“Why?” His voice came out garbled but he didn’t remove her hand. Instead he licked her palm.
She pulled it back. “Dammit, that tickles.”
He grinned and laid his hand familiarly on her left breast, kneading gently, and making her thoughts scramble like crazy. “It’s a good joke. You’ll laugh. I promise.”
“Unlike you, I had a very productive morning.” She shifted to make him stop. She knew damn well where the touching would lead and she wanted to tell him about Simone first.
He gave her an odd look, a kind of wounded look that tugged at her heart. She kissed him, lightly, enough to reassure but not excite. “Business before pleasure. Remember?”
“Sure.” Briefly, he kissed her back. “I thought by productive you meant you slept most of the morning.”
She gave him a smug smile. Wait till he heard… “I had a chat with Simone.”
“Yeah? Without Bask butting in?”
“Yep, she came to our room.”
That got his interest. He shifted to his side to look at her, his brows drawn together.
“Simone is Bask’s wife.”
He drew his head back, shock blanketing his face. “She told you that?”
“No, but she told me enough that there isn’t any doubt.” She went on to repeat her conversation with Simone, disappointed that he didn’t seem more excited.
He didn’t say anything for a long time after she’d finished, just stared toward the window.
“Well, what do you think?” she finally asked.
Exhaling a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair in several quick successions. “I should’ve seen that one.”
“Not necessarily. Are all con artists who work together married?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Well, at the very least, that makes our boy a bigamist. He is legally married to your client, correct?”
Cassie nodded. “Which means we can have him picked up and booked.”
Dalton seemed doubtful, judging by the face he made. “We could if we thought he might bolt.”
“If Simone looks as if she’s losing it, he could get nervous and do just that.”
“On the other hand, even if Simone does fall apart, he could simp
ly remove her. There’s no reason for him to be nervous or suspicious.”
“True.”
“Unless you think Simone might confess what she’s told you.”
“No, I really don’t think she will.” Cassie thought a minute. “Before she left she was adamant that I not tell anyone she’d even come to the room. Anyway, she didn’t tell me anything specific. If we didn’t know what we did about Bask, there’s no way we would suspect he was her husband.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am.” She snuggled closer. “Get used to it.”
He slowly turned her way and gave her an enigmatic look that had her thoughts forking off. Did he think she was implying there was a future for them? Or was he thinking she was just being smug? She hoped the latter was to his thinking. She could deal with being smug.
She sighed. She’d forgotten how complicated this relationship stuff could be. Not that she thought they were forging a relationship, she reminded herself, and sighed again.
He nudged her shoulders and when she lifted them, he slid his arm beneath her and pulled her close. “What’s all that sighing for?”
“Just trying to figure out what we should do,” she lied.
“Yeah, I know.” He kissed her temple. “Well, I don’t think we should make a move yet.”
“Why?” She swallowed. Was he thinking the same thing she was? That the case would be over, and so would their association.
“As long as they aren’t suspicious, I say we gather as much dirt as we can. Put that bastard away until he’s too old to sweet-talk any more women out of their savings.”
“I like it.” Not because that gave her more time with Dalton. She really believed he was right. She did. “So we…wait?” She’d almost blown it. Or maybe he wouldn’t be so against her meeting alone with Bask now. She decided not to test the water.
“We wait and hope Simone provides more information or is enough of a distraction to Bask that he slips up and does something stupid.”
“Speaking of distractions…” Cassie smiled and slid her hand up Dalton’s shirt. His nipples beaded under her restless fingers.
“What about lunch?” He put a hand at her waist and toyed with the elastic of her shorts, dipping his fingers in to stroke her belly, withdrawing, and then dipping again, going lower each time.
She threw her leg across his thighs. He was already hard.
“Screw lunch,” she said and reached for his buckle.
Chuckling, he pulled down her shorts, taking her panties with them.
She barely managed to pull off his belt and unsnap his jeans before he got up on his knees, freed the shorts from around her ankles and cast them aside. He tugged up the hem of her blouse and she lifted herself enough for him to pull it over her head.
She laid back waiting for him to unsnap the front of her bra. Instead, he spread her thighs and moved in between her knees.
“Dalton?” She tensed, not understanding. Until he lowered his head and laved her with his tongue.
She grabbed two fistfuls of the quilt and held her breath. His tongue was hot and thorough, and she came so damn fast she didn’t know what hit her.
HE SHADED his eyes and looked up at the stately white house. Lunchtime. Everyone would be in the dining room. He had the routine down by now.
No one would be more pleased than him when this was over. He hated being outside in the hot sun most of the day. Good thing it wasn’t the middle of summer. He would’ve begged off the assignment. Except he was perfect for the role, even he had to admit.
Damn stereotypes. Of course he’d end up with a major collar after this bust. Maybe even a promotion so he wasn’t complaining…too much.
After making sure no one was around, he reached into his baggy pants’ pocket and got out his cell phone. He hit speed dial, he sat on a lawn chair and uncapped a bottle of water while he waited. Before he could take a sip, his partner answered on the other end.
He took a quick sip anyway, and then said, “Tonight’s the night. I’m sure.” He paused to let his partner voice his concerns. The guy was a worrier. Out in the field he sucked, but he did a damn good job of tracking details and organizing raids.
“Bask has no history of violence and I don’t expect any trouble. But if we hit in the middle of the night everyone will be asleep and that’ll keep things simple. Line up the guys for midnight.”
He gave Lenny a few more details and then hung up. Pushing off the chair, he mopped his sweaty forehead with a red bandana, and then grabbed the rake.
Yep, Sgt. Hamada was going to be damn glad when this bust was over.
16
CASSIE SAT ACROSS Bask’s desk and waited for him to get off the phone. When he’d received a call five minutes into their private session she’d hoped she’d be able to overhear something useful.
No luck. He listened mostly, giving a few yes and no answers occasionally. He kept his gaze on her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. It creeped her out and she looked around his room to avoid his eyes.
The last time she’d been in here she hadn’t noticed the sparseness of the office décor. A couple of pictures hung on the walls similar to the generic kind that you’d find in a hotel room. Even the furniture looked as if it might have been rented. It wasn’t bad quality, but something he wouldn’t mind leaving in a hurry.
On the wall behind his desk hung a license to counsel and a certificate of excellence awarded to him by a university she’d never heard of, and which probably didn’t exist.
When she finally brought her gaze back to him, he was still watching her intently. He smiled, and then put up a finger, indicating he’d be only a moment longer.
She smiled back, trying to figure out what she might have thought of him if she didn’t know what a scumbag he was. Most women found him good-looking, obviously, and she probably would have as well, even though she didn’t particularly find fair men attractive.
His light blue eyes were almost hypnotic and his smile disarming. He had that special way of making a woman feel as if she were the only one in the room once he made eye contact with her. Cassie had seen Zelda melt into a puddle with him more than once, and it was really sad and annoying how she constantly seemed to seek his approval. Kathy wasn’t too bad around him. Yet.
“I apologize for the interruption, Cassie,” Bask said, smiling, as he replaced the receiver. “Cassie—is that short for Cassandra?”
She nodded.
“A family name?”
“My grandmother’s.”
“Cassandra is a beautiful name. Do you mind if I call you that?”
It was almost painful to smile but she managed. “I’d like that.”
“You’re probably wondering why I asked to see you privately.”
That was news to her. She’d made the appointment with Mary Jane. “Actually, I asked to see you, as well.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh?”
She wished she’d kept her mouth shut and let him talk. “Why did you want to see me?”
“I wasn’t happy with the way we left our last conversation. I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”
“Not at all. I listened to your advice. Went back to massage class, and I still think my husband’s the biggest buffoon this side of Dallas.” She sighed, and added, “I can’t see trying anymore. I do have some of my own money from a trust fund. Plus the pre-nup I signed will take care of me quite well.”
Bask gave her a condescending smile. “Actually, I think you’re wrong.”
“What?”
“You two not only have a great deal of chemistry but I sense you have a lot of trust in each other. And respect. Both very important in a relationship.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Be honest with yourself, Cassandra. You may not always like Dalton’s behavior or share his chauvinistic ideas, but you know he’s a good man and you can count on him.”
Cassie didn’t respond. This was not good. Not good at all. What was
she supposed to go back and tell Dalton? That they were perfect for each other? This was not good.
“You look upset,” Bask said, getting up from his chair and coming around the desk.
She braced herself. Maybe this was it—the big consolation move. He’d put his arms around her and tell her not to fret and how he’d…
He perched at a respectable distance on the edge of his desk and took her hands instead. “Cassandra, look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t care what happened to Dalton.”
“Of course I care. That isn’t the point. I just don’t want to live with him.” She tried to look convincing.
“All right, my fault, I phrased that wrong. How would you feel if you never saw him again after this week?”
She couldn’t breathe for a moment and she squeezed his hands. Tight. Too tight. She let go while forcing herself to breathe. “I’m sure I’d still see him…”
“Because you couldn’t bear not to.”
“No.” She didn’t have to pretend this time.
“Cassandra?”
She wanted to push him away. Get up and run out of his office. She probably wouldn’t see Dalton again. Maybe in court, if it came to that, but that would be the extent of any future association. He’d be off on another assignment in a matter of days.
The thought made her sick to her stomach.
Robert nudged her chin up. “Why are you resisting?” he asked, watching her closely. “You still want him.”
“I don’t.” Damn, she was blowing it. “I mean, I do. Physically. We do great in that department.” She exhaled slowly. “But that isn’t enough. I want more.”
“What is it you want, Cassandra?” He took her hands again and leaned closer.
His breath hit her cheek and she flinched. He backed off. The move was subtle, but she knew she’d blown it. If she wanted him to hit on her, she’d have to make the next overture.
Dammit.
“I’m sorry if I seem skittish,” she said quickly. “I didn’t tell him I was meeting with you and he can have quite a temper.”
“Don’t worry. He knows not to rock the boat while you two are here. This is his chance to save the marriage.” He smiled reassuringly. “I doubt he’ll cause any trouble.”
Hands On Page 17
