Tomorrow, when her temper had cooled and her hurt had eased, she’d tell him the truth, share her own suspicions about what was going on, and confront him about the P.I. asking questions. It was time she and Alex came to an understanding. She wasn’t an angel, but she wasn’t a thief, either.
But first she was going to have a little talk with Brandy Clevenger...
Chapter Twenty-Three
The cabin was empty and silent when Alex awoke Saturday morning. A quick search confirmed that Brooke had once again tiptoed by him and escaped.
Alex frowned as he made coffee in the ancient percolator. She’d mentioned nothing last night about working today. In fact, he was fairly certain she’d left out a lot of things last night.
Today he intended to find out just what she was hiding.
He jumped as his cell phone rang inside his boot, then grinned ruefully. After a week, he’d gotten used to the peace and quiet. Enjoyed it so much that he debated on not answering the insistent ring.
In the end, he couldn’t resist. He snatched it from his boot and pushed a button.
“I thought you might want to know that you’re dealing with a lunatic,” Gloria announced.
What happened to ‘hello’? Alex wondered. “Gloria. Good morning.”
His secretary ignored his dry greeting. “Aren’t you worried?” she demanded. “Did you know that she was under a shrink’s care?”
Calmly, Alex watched the clear bubble on top of the percolator and braced himself for another over-dramatized conversation with Gloria. “Let me guess: You’re talking about Brooke Welch?”
“Of course I’m talking about Brooke Welch! The girl’s a loose cannon, Alex. Her parents were shot in a convenience store six years ago. That’s when she started seeing the shrink.”
“Imagine that,” Alex drawled sarcastically. “She’s a victim of a violent crime, and had to have therapy. What a weak woman.” He tsked-tsked.
Gloria fell silent for a moment. Finally, she said, “I’m worried about you, that’s all. I thought you should know the woman has some unresolved issues that could make her dangerous. She dropped her therapy after one week—telling her psychologist to shove his practice where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Alex tightened his fingers on the phone, holding onto his temper by a small margin. “I take it you didn’t get this information from the Internet.”
“No, I sent Luther.”
Closing his eyes, Alex counted silently to ten before he trusted himself to speak. “Let me get this straight. You knew that I didn’t want anyone to know that I was here, yet you sent in a P.I. to ask questions.”
“I didn’t see the harm,” Gloria reasoned defensively. “In fact, I thought it added credence to your disappearance.”
“If it hadn’t been for you and your overactive imagination, I wouldn’t have disappeared.”
The reminder sailed over Gloria’s head. “You’ve been ill, Alex. I was afraid you might not be—well, that you’re not using your head.”
It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines. Gloria meant he might not be using the right head, and Alex had to admit there was a smidgen of truth in her words. Nothing he cared to admit, however. “Brooke may have some past issues—which are understandable, considering what you’ve told me about her parents—but she’s not a thief. I’d bet the boat on that.”
“Or the factory?” Gloria needled. “Did you know that she was involved with Kyle Lotus, who is the—”
“I know who Lotus is,” Alex growled. Just the mention of the man’s name curled his fist. “And I’m pretty sure he’s our man.”
“Hm.”
The not-so-subtle syllable prompted Alex into defending Brooke. “She’s not involved with Lotus now.”
“Are you positive?”
“Yes, I’m positive!” Alex snapped. “The next time Luther contacts you, tell him to get the hell out of Quicksilver before he blows my cover.”
“Fine. I will.” Gloria sniffed. “I was only looking out for you.”
Alex softened at her hurt tone. “I know, I know. But do me a favor, will you? Let me look out for myself.”
He hung up the phone and poured himself a cup of coffee. Eventually he began to chuckle as he thought about Gloria’s ridiculous suspicions. While at first he’d harbored a few suspicions about Brooke, he knew now that she was incapable of being a party to something as dishonest as embezzling money.
The only thing she was guilty of stealing was his heart.
****
Brooke stumbled to a halt in her doorway, clutching the doorknob and staring at the mountains and mountains of boxes in her living room.
Boxes of Safe & Secure condoms from the factory.
Someone’s idea of a sick joke?
Cautiously, she stepped inside and closed the door. She locked it out of habit, her incredulous gaze glued to the mirage in her living room.
She kicked a box with her toe—Super Ribbed For The Ultimate Sexual Pleasure. She nudged another box, twisting it around to read the stamped letters on the side. Glow In The Dark For The Ultimate Fantasy Fun.
Not a mirage.
Mouth dry, Brooke tore open a box and scrambled through the packages, tearing one open.
It was indeed a condom—neon pink—with Safe & Secure’s inscription on the package.
As bizarre as it sounded, someone had broken into her home and filled her living room with condoms from the factory.
Why?
It was a big question, and a burning one. Why would someone do this? Brooke found it hard to believe someone would go to this much trouble for a joke.
On shaky legs, Brooke wound her way through the boxes until she reached the kitchen. She yanked out a chair at the table and sat.
It was a setup, Brooke thought, forcing her stunned mind to think. It had to be a setup, and she didn’t have to guess long to figure out who had done the setting up.
Kyle Lotus and his cohort, Brandy Clevenger.
When Kyle found the file on his desk, he must have put two and two together and figured out she’d been in his apartment. It wouldn’t be difficult, and Kyle was anything but stupid. The meeting she didn’t keep, the misplaced file, the fire alarm with no fire...no, it wouldn’t be difficult to figure out that someone was onto him.
So he was trying to turn the tables, was he? Brooke narrowed her eyes, fighting the urge to deplete her stash of chipped plates by crashing them into the sink. What Kyle didn’t know was that she was working with Alex, and Alex already knew his game.
Brooke sucked in a slow gasp, remembering that Alex didn’t know everything. He didn’t know about the mysterious conversation between Brandy and Kyle about the condoms and the money, and he didn’t know the contents of the file she’d found locked away in Kyle’s filing cabinet.
He also didn’t know about the little book she’d found in the new secretary’s desk, the one where she’d kept count of the customer complaints.
The clues were adding up, but last night the hurt had been too fresh. She hadn’t felt very generous toward Alex after finding out he’d sent a P.I. to ask questions about her.
Today was a little better, and she had planned to tell him everything later, share her thoughts on how Kyle was stealing from the factory.
Immediately after she told him—after she’d proved to him that she wasn’t involved—she was going to regain her dignity by handing him her resignation. If he wanted her to continue working for him, then he was going to have to do some mighty tall apologizing.
At least, that had been her plan before she walked through her front door and found a shipment of condoms in her living room.
Alex would believe her. Of course he’d believe her. The whole setup was so blatantly obvious, he’d probably laugh until he cried over Kyle’s pitiful attempt to make her out to look like a thief.
Brooke nibbled on her fingernail. In the meantime, she had to get back to Alex and explain before Kyle reported the theft and pointed a finger in her d
irection, because she’d much rather explain this whole silly misunderstanding to Alex face to face and not through the bars of a jail cell. Together they’d plan the next step in bringing Kyle down.
Grabbing her purse, Brooke leaped over boxes and dashed to the front door. She had the presence of mind to take a careful look through the glass windowpanes before opening the door, half expecting to see Sheriff Snider striding up the walk with a search warrant in his hand.
With the way her luck had been going, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
She didn’t see Sheriff Snider, but what she did see made her freeze.
A dark, late-model sedan was parked across the street from her house. The car itself might not have given her pause, but the man inside holding a pair of binoculars to his face gave her plenty of pause.
And he was looking in her direction.
“I don’t believe it,” Brooke muttered, swallowing hard. It had to be the P.I. who’d been asking questions, because she would have recognized either of the local cops or Sheriff Snider. Besides, she doubted if they knew how to do a stakeout—which was exactly what the P.I. was doing.
Staking her out. Spying on her.
If she’d had any doubts before about Alex’s lack of trust in her, she had none now.
Fear receded and anger—familiar and welcome for a change—returned. Brooke jerked open the door and stepped outside, careful not to glance in the man’s direction. She took her time locking the door and walking to her car. She even managed to whistle as if she hadn’t kidnapped Alex Bradshaw, stolen files from the factory, broken into Kyle’s apartment, and now held a shipment of stolen condoms in her house.
Still whistling, she started the Pinto and backed out of her driveway. As she drove slowly down the residential street, a casual glance in the rearview mirror told her the sedan had moved in behind her. She cruised down main street until she reached the city limits.
The moment she passed the sign welcoming folks to Quicksilver, Oklahoma, she put the pedal to the metal. The powerful 302 Boss engine roared to life.
Allowing herself a savage, victorious grin, Brooke rolled down the window and let the wind rush over her as she left the sedan behind. Before long, the car was nothing more than a speck in her rearview mirror. He’d never catch her, she thought smugly.
Her smug smile died an instant death at the sight of the flashing lights that moved in behind her with lightning speed. With a groan and a curse, Brooke slowed the Pinto and pulled onto the shoulder.
There was only one car in town that could match the Boss’s speed.
Brooke’s heart began a heavy pounding as she watched Sheriff Snider unfold his tall form from the cruiser.
But instead of coming her way, he turned and reached into the car. When he emerged again, he was holding—Brooke squinted, then ground out a curse as she recognized the object.
Her hubcap.
Again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
What a day. Make that ‘what a week,’ Brooke amended, cutting the engine and leaning her hot face against the steering wheel. Dee would never believe how incredibly crazy her life had become.
She’d kidnapped a man who refused to be unkidnapped.
Her house—her childhood home—was filled with condoms because her thieving boss—her immediate boss—was determined to put them all out of a job and frame her in the process.
And to top it all, she had to share her one and only haven with a man who kept her in a perpetual state of intense arousal. A man she should be running from, not to. Not that she had any place else to go.
Brooke turned her head slightly, her gaze landing on the warped hubcap on the seat beside her. For the second time in a week, the damned thing had nearly caused her to have heart failure.
Well, this was one aspect of her out-of-control life that she could fix, she determined, snatching it up and climbing out of the car. A few good whacks with a sledge hammer should do it—and make her feel better in the process. She’d beat it into shape and weld it on, if necessary.
And if it fell off again, she would leave it on the side of the road for good.
Gathering the hubcap, she skirted the front porch and headed to the back yard, glad to notice that Alex was conspicuously absent. Good. Maybe he’d gone to visit Elijah and she’d be left in peace for a while. Him and his spying P.I.—and not a very good one at that, letting her see him. Apparently, Alex didn’t have the guts to tell her to her face that he didn’t trust her.
Slamming the hubcap onto the chopping block and ignoring the strange, unwanted ache in her heart, she stomped to the small storage shed where her father had kept his fishing equipment and various wood-working tools.
Inside the dim interior of the shed, she found a sledge hammer lying on a shelf. It was nice and heavy...just what she needed to pound some respect into that old ornery hubcap. She emerged from the shed with the hammer and returned to the chopping block. Lifting the hammer high, she aimed for the warped side of the hubcap.
A splash from the lake halted her downward swing.
Brooke glanced in that direction, thinking the ducks that inhabited the lake had taken flight, or a particularly large bass had jumped to catch a dragonfly. If her father were alive, she thought wistfully, he’d race to get his fishing equipment—
It wasn’t ducks, or a big fish flopping.
It was Alex.
As she watched, open-mouthed and breathless, he rose from the water and waded to shore, slinging his wet hair from his face.
Naked. Dripping. Tanned and glistening. Muscled and magnificent. Adonis rising from the water, gorgeous and sexy enough to make a woman swoon.
Including herself.
A wave of dizziness washed over Brooke, reminding her that it was time she gave her lungs the air they needed. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled, unable to look away. Just breathe, she commanded her brain, staring at the breathtaking sight walking in her direction.
He looked up and saw her, and even from the distance of twenty yards or so, she saw his eyes darken.
He kept right on coming, brazen in his naked state. And with good reason, Brooke thought with a gulp. He had plenty to be proud of...
The hammer slipped from her numb fingers, narrowly missing her toes as it thumped to the ground. Brooke reached blindly to the stump behind her and found the hubcap. She grabbed it up and thrust it between them just as he reached her. “Cover yourself,” she croaked, handing him the hubcap.
He took the hubcap, his gaze hot enough to evaporate the water drops clinging to his thick black eyelashes. The sun, warm and bright, made the air between them shimmer with heat as they continued to watch each other.
It was happening, Brooke thought. That thing she’d been fighting—avoiding, trying to ignore. The irreversible...inevitable conclusion. And it had nothing to do with Safe & Secure condoms, the factory, or the fact that Alex was her boss.
She knew that now—had probably known it all along.
This was about her and Alex, and the powerful need they generated in each other—for each other. The consummation they both craved was long past due. Whether he trusted her or not, whether he loved her or not...none of these facts would change the inevitable.
“Here?” he asked softly, glancing at the thick green grass at their feet.
No need to pretend; she knew exactly what he meant. Her own voice a bare whisper of surrender, she said, “No. Inside.”
Silently, she turned and led the way inside the cabin. Alex closed and locked the door while Brooke drew the curtains across the front window. The ceiling fan above them lazily stirred the cooler air and chilled the sheen of sweat on Brooke’s neck and shoulders. But she couldn’t blame the cooler air on her hardened nipples, and the dampness between her legs had nothing to do with sweat.
They turned to each other in the middle of the room, like boxers facing off before a fight. Both were breathing as if they’d already gone several rounds. Alex stood with one hand holding the hubcap in front of him, and
the other hand clenched at his side.
“Take off your blouse,” he ordered hoarsely.
Hands shaking, Brooke unbuttoned her shirt without taking her eyes from his. Her nerves were screaming with anticipation, but her mind could not ignore the unresolved issues that remained between them. She wanted nothing between them, including secrets.
“Someone left a shipment of condoms at my house,” she announced breathlessly.
His gaze never wavered. “I don’t give a flying fuck if Lotus left a dozen dead bodies.”
He sounded as if he meant it, and the fact that he had known instantly who was responsible warmed her. Brooke reached for another button. “Last night, I didn’t tell you everything.”
“I know, and it doesn’t matter.”
Her fingers paused for an instant, then resumed. His eyes were an electric, sizzling blue, but she knew their darkening had nothing to do with anger. There was a tautness about his face that was as obvious and as old as time. The knowledge that she was responsible left her weak and shaken. “Don’t you want to know what I didn’t tell you?”
“Later. Take your blouse off.”
He liked watching, and she liked him watching her. She was also just as eager as he to get on with it, but she wasn’t finished.
Sliding her blouse from her shoulders, she let it fall to the floor. She stood, bare-breasted, trembling and aching in her jeans and running shoes. “I saw the P.I. watching me.”
A flicker that might have been irritation or surprise flashed in his eyes, then was gone. “Gloria sent him. I’ll explain later. Now get out of those jeans.”
She supposed she should have been ashamed to believe him so easily, but she wasn’t. He had instantly known Kyle had planted the condoms in her house. Wasn’t it only fair that she believe him? And wasn’t it time she stopped making excuses for something she wanted every bit as much as he did?
Her hands went obediently to the metal button of her jeans. She unsnapped them as she kicked off her shoes, then slowly slid her jeans and panties over her hips. When she’d kicked them away, she looked at him again. Her chin came up as her gaze dropped to the only thing left between them.
A Perfect Fit Page 18
