by Heidi Betts
More than anything she wanted to find Jack. As though in response to her silent wish her cell phone rang with the ring tone she used exclusively for him. “Where are you?” he asked abruptly.
“Not far from home. Problem?”
“I could use you, a drink and food, in that order.”
She smiled. “I think I can help you with that. Do you want to eat in or out?”
“In. Definitely in.”
By the time she arrived home a fine mist clung to the city and the wind carried a chilly edge. They didn’t often spend the evening at her place, despite its convenient location, perhaps because the row house didn’t offer as much room as Jack’s beach house. Or maybe it was because the furnishings were antique and somewhat delicate for a man. Or possibly it was a territorial problem, Jack unable to make his mark in the distinctly feminine environment. Tonight he made one of his rare exceptions.
They entered the small foyer and to her amusement both of their gazes flashed to a section of the wall where they’d collided during their second kiss—a chaste embrace that had exploded into an unexpected wildfire of desire. It had been that way when they first kissed on the night of the charity auction, flamed higher during that crazy second kiss and had continued to build ever since.
“Would you prefer to order out?” Nikki asked. “Or would you like me to throw something together? I probably have enough in the fridge for omelets.” Maybe.
“Right now I just want you.”
All he had to do was touch her to send her up in flames. His kiss tasted of desperation and need, his hands relentless in expressing that need and driving her own to the breaking point. Their clothing created a trail of passion leading upstairs to her bedroom. While the bed cupped them in silk and softness, the deepening night encased them in a protective dusk. Want perfuming the air, their husky cries lending music to their passionate dance. And when the moment was spent and the fires banked, they clung, two hearts beating in synchronicity, male and female locked together in perfect accord.
“You make it so much easier,” he whispered. “I don’t know how or why. But I don’t think I could get through this without you.”
“Get through what, Jack? What’s happened?”
He rolled onto his back and rested his head on his folded arms. A pale wedge of light from the hallway sliced across the upper portion of his face, silvering his robin’s-egg-blue eyes. Hardness glittered there, as it so often did. But she knew him well enough to see the pain that lurked beneath. The intense grief. The Kincaids weren’t the only ones to lose their father. Jack had lost his, too.
“McDonough came to see me today.”
“And?”
She caught a glimpse of a smile, though it contained little humor. “I’ve been told not to leave town.”
“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, reaching for him, telling him with a single touch that she was there for him. “Why? What do they have on you?”
He rolled onto his side to face her, feathering his hand through the silken length of her dark hair, then tracing the curve of her cheek. In the two months they’d been together she’d noticed that he had a need to touch, to stroke, to maintain a physical connection between them even during sleep. It was one of the qualities she loved about him. “Someone helped themselves to my car the night of Dad’s murder and parked it near The Kincaid Group office building.”
She stilled and tiptoed into what promised to become a minefield, praying he didn’t pick up on her tension. “Who could have taken it?”
“That’s the million dollar question, one I’d love to have answered.” He’d finished tracing the angles of her face and crept lower, following the line of her neck to the sensitive joining of her shoulder. He smiled at the helpless shiver that rippled through her. “So would the police.”
“They think it’s you.” She didn’t bother to phrase it as a question.
His hand stilled briefly. “I suspect McDonough does, yes.”
“How do they know your car was parked near The Kincaid Group?”
“They have a photo from a security camera I guess. Maybe video.” A frown etched across his brow and his hand shifted, continued to stroke. “What I don’t get is… If they have a photo or video, why don’t they also have evidence of who was driving the car? That’s all it would take to clear me.”
“Good question.” A very good question. One she’d be certain to ask Charles. “Who do you think killed your father?”
He closed his eyes, his expression turning grim. “I wish I knew. I can’t imagine who’d do such a thing.” He looked at her then, allowing his grief to leak through. “I could almost understand it when the police thought his wife had shot him. If she’d found out about my mother and they’d argued…”
“This wasn’t a crime of passion,” Nikki objected. “At least, it wasn’t executed in a passionate manner.”
“No, I came to that realization as well, which is why I have trouble suspecting any of the Kincaids. Someone had it in for Dad. As much as I despise the Legitimates, I can’t see any of them pulling the trigger.” He grimaced. “Not even RJ, though I don’t suppose he feels the same way about me.”
She almost answered, catching back the words in the nick of time. “Have you talked to him about it?”
“Of course not. All of our dealings have been strictly business-related. I requested and received a report on The Kincaid Group’s assets, expenses, projected growth, as well as a comprehensive customer list back in January. Since then all we’ve done is have a number of terse, bitter conversations about how to handle the running of the business. It’s clear we both hope to take control at the June board meeting.” He traced his finger between the swell of her breasts and the edge of the sheet, then dipped beneath, causing her to inhale sharply. “I guess it all comes down to that missing ten percent.”
The breath stuttered in her lungs. “What missing ten percent?” she asked.
“The Kincaids between them own forty-five percent of TKG stock. I now own the other forty-five percent. That leaves ten percent missing.” He rolled on top of her, bracing himself so his forearms took most of his weight. “Though, not for long.”
“No?”
His expression turned teasing and everything within her melted. “Nope. I’m going to hire someone to find the owner of those missing shares.”
He lowered himself to her, inch by delicious inch, driving her insane with need. She opened to welcome him. “You are?” she asked weakly.
“Yes, I am. Someone I happen to know is a brilliant investigator and is well motivated to find the information I need.”
She stiffened. Oh, no. Oh, please, no. “Who? Who is that?”
He joined their bodies, driving every coherent thought from her head…right up until he said, “Why, you, of course.”
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459225978
Copyright © 2012 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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