She lay soft and warm against his side, her breathing easy for the first time in the past hour as she snuggled in deeper, her cheek resting against his chest. Beautiful, responsive, able to take what he could dish out and enjoy it, yet adorably uncertain of herself, in need of someone to lead her, protect her, but not smother her as her asshole husband evidently had. He could see a future with this woman, one mutually rewarding, if they could get through this mess.
Stirring beside him, Mari tipping her head to blink drowsily up at him, sweet, soft, and cuddly like a kitten waking from a nap. Minou, the diminutive suited her to a tee.
“I need to open the shop in the morning.”
His arm tightened around her, not ready to give her up yet, but it was past midnight, plenty of time for Jonas and his crew to have finished. The thought brought reality crashing back and reminded him of something else. He rolled to his side, coming up on an elbow. “I’ve been invited by one of the masters from the club to Galveston this weekend. His wife Lexie has a place on the beach. I’d like for you to join me.”
“For a play weekend?”
“Not specifically, but if that’s what you’d like to do, I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean… I was merely asking, uh—” She stopped when she saw the amused quirk of his lips. She pushed at his shoulder for teasing, but he didn’t budge, laughing at her peeved look instead. As his arms came around her, he rolled onto his back, bringing her over him, her hair falling forward to frame her face.
“It’s Jonas and Lexie Mitchell, Mari. They don’t seem like the hardcore play party type although if we ask, Jonas might show us some shibari ties. He’s a master and teaches classes at his mixed martial arts studio in San Antonio.”
“I’ve seen them do a demonstration at the club. It’s quite beautiful.” She bit her lower lip, a habit when she turned reflective he’d noticed, yet another thing about her which he found endearing. “I haven’t been to the beach in ages, which is really a shame, living so close. But my manager is still out of town.” Her brow furrowed. He could tell she wanted to say yes, so he left her alone to work it all out. “I could ask Katy, I suppose.” She glanced up at him, eyes bright. “It sounds wonderful, Arturo, and I want to, but give me some time to work out coverage?”
One of his hands slipped to the back of her head and pulled her face down to his. “Work a miracle, Mari,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “I have a desperate need to see you in a bikini.”
“You’ve seen me in much less,” she replied with a small laugh, her twinkling eyes gazing down at him.
“Yes, but not slick with tanning oil and wet from a swim.”
“I’m a redhead, sir. I wear SPF 50 not oil and a big floppy hat or I burn.”
“Then I will look forward to slathering sunblock all over your body, liberally, thoroughly, and often.” He punctuated each of his last few words with a kiss on her parted lips. Then he rolled them again, this time to the edge of the bed where he reluctantly set her on her feet. With a pat on her rosy behind, he sent her off to the living room to get her things while he pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped a tee shirt over his head. Her phone rang in the other room. Gathering his keys and wallet, he ran his fingers through his hair and tied it back. As he walked into the other room in search of his shoes, her voice was a low feminine murmur.
“I’m glad she’s doing better, Adri.” She paused, her eyes meeting his as he passed, a smile lighting her face. “Yes, the shop has been busy and I’ll be glad for a break. I’ve been invited to the beach this weekend.”
He grinned, understanding her eager expression as he sat on the couch and pulled on his sneakers.
“What? No, I haven’t seen anyone asking for you and no calls.” She halted for a brief moment, then replied, her voice full of concern. “If you’re short on money, honey, I can give you an advance.” Listening, she bent and picked up her dress and panties, leaning against the wall to slip her feet in one at a time.
While she was occupied, he pulled his own phone out and sent a quick text.
Arturo: Are you getting this?
Jonas: Tracking it now.
Arturo: Full report on caller first thing in the morning.
Jonas: Will do.
“Okay, honey,” Mari said, clearly wrapping it up. “I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.” She then swiped the screen and looked up.
“Problems?”
“No. The opposite. My manager is coming back to work tomorrow so I’ll be able to go to the beach with you this weekend.”
“A bright blue, would be my preference.”
“Pardon?”
“For your bikini, ma petite.”
She offered him a slow, shy smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Much obliged,” he teased in a passable Texas drawl. He moved to her side as she stepped into her dress. “Turn around. I’ll zip you up.”
As he eased up her zipper and covered the long, seductive line of her back, he felt a stirring in his groin again, and hoped this new lead would pan out. The more time he spent with her, intimate time in particular, the deeper they got, which was what he wanted, but it added to the inevitable hurt and long list of explanations he would have to give. Begging wasn’t something he relished or had succumbed to in the past, but in this case…
He bit back a curse, wanting this shit over and done with yesterday so they could start forging a relationship based on complete honesty, not these unavoidable deceptions. Patting her hip to signal he was done, Arturo walked to the windows, staring out at the skyline deep in thought as she slipped into her shoes and searched for her purse. He didn’t notice she was ready until she came up behind him and rested her hand on his back.
“Is everything okay?”
He turned with a tight smile. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know; you’re suddenly quiet.”
He slipped his arms around her and pulled her up against him, chest to chest, hip to hip. “Just a little tired and disappointed we had to leave a nice comfortable bed.”
She lifted her hand and rested it along his cheek, smiling up at him. “Me too, but this weekend we won’t have to.”
“I’m looking forward to that.” He bent his head and claimed her soft mouth in a smoldering kiss, before setting her away and with her hand clasped in his, led her out of his suite.
Chapter Thirteen
At nine the next morning, he met Jonas, Reed and Brock, along with two of the local security contractors for a briefing at the temporary Rossi headquarters downtown. Another man, an older craggy faced ex-Marine who was introduced as Rock was on duty.
“An unusual name,” Arturo remarked, as they shook hands. “I’m sure there’s a story there.”
“Not really,” he grunted, scowling at Jonas who failed to smother a grin. “Might as well own up to the name of Norman,” he admitted in a gravelly voice. “My mother, Mrs. Rockwell had a twisted sense of humor. That’s why I’m just Rock.”
After being subjected to his crushing grip, Arturo kept to himself that the shortened name aptly suited him. He’d also deliberately kept his gaze off of Jonas, not wanting to offend the gruff man by laughing, as he went back to monitoring the large dual screens, which carried several security feeds. He noticed Mari’s house on one with at least eight camera angles, and an equal amount at her shop.
The only one with activity was pulled up larger than the rest and featured Mari as she wiped down the glass doors to her shop, readying it for opening.
“Cap here,” came Tony’s familiar voice over the laptop speaker. It drew everyone to the table, except Rock, as Jonas conferenced in the boss to keep him up to speed.
“Did you get the file I sent?” Jonas asked him.
“Yep. I’m ready on my end.”
With a few clicks, he minimized Cap’s teleconference window and pulled up a file. A woman came on screen; dark hair, dark brown eyes, mid-thirties, reasonably attractive.
�
��Meet Adriana Crenshaw. Age thirty-five. This woman is a piece of work.” Jonas commented wryly. “Worked for BSE as an administrative assistant until four years ago when she was terminated for security violations. Evidently Miss Adri was caught in top secret areas she didn’t have clearance for.”
“How?” Arturo asked.
“She was fucking her boss, stole his key card and password. When she was found by another executive somewhere off limits, both of them were fired. Having no use for him after that, she ended things between them.”
He opened another photo on screen.
“Enter Derek Hoffman. He became Adri’s new man a few weeks later. Not long after that, she started her new career in retail.” He gave Arturo a meaningful look.
“The prick was cheating on Mari and then had the balls to put his mistress right under her nose.”
“Looks like it. Her hubby was a real peach,” Jonas said in disgust. “Though I think she was the first, not that it makes it any better, but I couldn’t find evidence of any other infidelities.” He clicked and another man came on screen. “And Adriana didn’t have any sense of loyalty. Meet Don Dunbar. She became intimate with this poor schmuck about six months later. They married not long after that.”
“While still seeing Hoffman?” Cap asked.
“Yep.”
“What does Dunbar have to do with anything?” Reed asked.
“He’s the research and development chief at BSE.”
“Holy shit,” Brock said with a whistle.
“He was also Derek Hoffman’s college roommate and the best man at his and Marilee’s wedding.”
“The whole thing seems sickeningly incestuous to me,” Cap put in.
Arturo was equally repulsed and livid on Mari’s behalf, but he summed things up coolly. “So the common denominator is Adriana Dunbar who either had a thing for aerospace geeks or was spreading herself for anyone with an in at BSE.”
“Yes,” Jonas agreed, “and when her access on the inside was cut off, she got entry through back channels, first Hoffman, then Dunbar. As manager at Mari’s store, she had access to her computer to make file transfers there.”
“Do we have anything besides damning circumstantial evidence?” Cap asked.
“We need something more concrete before we call in my FBI associates,” Arturo said, agreeing with Cap.
“We’ll keep digging,” Jonas acceded. “There is one more thing. Adri told Mari she was going out of town to care for a sick mother, funny thing is, Adele Crenshaw died in 2010.”
“The bitch lied,” Arturo scoffed. “Not surprising. Do you know where she actually went?”
“No, but we will. And the cock and bull story about bill collectors is also fiction. Her joint accounts with Dunbar are very healthy and she also has several individual accounts that scream of suspicion on a store manager’s salary.”
“We need more. Tail her,” Arturo ordered. “Tap her phones, put her on constant surveillance, and have your men become visible, not blatantly so, but enough to make her watchful. I want her scared and on edge so she’ll make a mistake. Then we’ll have her. In the meantime, I’ll look into Dunbar’s activity from the inside.”
“Don’t we need warrants or any of that shit?” Reed asked.
“For BSE, no. I have their full support. They want to shut down the technology leaks ASAP. As far as private citizens go, thanks to your sneak and peak laws in the Patriot Act, we’re not to that point yet. But I’ll move up my weekly meeting with my FBI contact just to make it all legal. I wouldn’t want her getting off on a technicality once we nail her.”
“Sounds like you have it all under control and Adriana Dunbar has just become our new prime suspect. Keep me up to date. Cap, out.”
Chapter Fourteen
He was ten minutes early as he entered the circle drive to her house. Instead of parking out front, he took the turn around the far side of the house to the rear entrance he’d been using all week. At the door, he peeked in and saw her running around frantically like a headless chicken. At his knock, he grinned, seeing her come to a skidding halt on the tile floor.
“I’m not ready,” she cried as she threw open the door that led into her bright sunny kitchen. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair pulled up in a casual ponytail high on the back of her head, and she was slightly winded. Before he could tell her to take a breath and relax, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “Come in, sit, and have coffee. There’re blueberry scones in that bakery box on the island if you’re hungry. I’ll be down in ten.”
She whirled to race down the hall, but suddenly stopped and spun back. “Make that fifteen, maybe even twenty.”
As she turned once more, ready to make a mad dash towards the door, his arm snaked around her waist from behind and caught her mid-stride.
“Whoa there. We’ve got plenty of time.” He closed the door behind him with his foot and walked her forward, toward her huge center island. Once there, he shoved the string tied white box aside and lifted her, plopping her behind on the smooth marble countertop. This put her level with him, face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and mouth-to-mouth. His hands curved around her hips as he leaned in. “This is supposed to be a relaxing getaway, chérie. Breathe.”
She nodded, inhaled deeply, then slowly blew it out.
“Again.”
On the second measured in and out breath, he felt the tension ease by slow degrees from her body.
“Better?”
“Yes. I’m a mess, aren’t I?”
“A beautiful mess,” he clarified as he moved in for a kiss. Although they’d had dinner together every night this week, and made love either at his suite or upstairs in her bed, they ignited as though it had been a month.
Lips, tongues, and hands were wildly searching and touching as buttons came quickly undone. The front door slamming loudly effectively doused their uncontrolled passion, however. They froze, both looking toward the door that led to the main hall.
“Expecting someone?”
She shook her head frantically, her fingers moving over her buttons at breakneck speed. “No one has a key except my kids.”
“We’re home!” a youthful feminine voice called out. “Mom?”
“Holy crap,” Mari whispered in alarm. “It’s Beth.”
“Whose Porsche is parked in our driveway?”
Hearing a male voice, she squeaked next, “And Jordy!” Quickly, she jumped down, putting her clothes to rights, while eyeing him with a glare.
“How are you still perfectly put together?” she hissed.
“You’ll have to work harder at it next time.” But as he teased her, his hands rose to help with her buttons as she tucked her shirt back into her shorts. She’d missed one in her hurry, however, and he had to undo what she’d just done.
“It’s annoying,” she whispered. “You look ready to walk a runway and I must look like I’ve been getting the business on my kitchen counter.”
“Not quite, but nearly.”
“Arturo!”
“Hey! Is that your new car?” Jordy asked, footsteps sounding in the hall.
“You were supposed to park in back,” Mari hissed.
“I did, petite.”
Still fumbling with her shirt, the frantic pace not helping at all, she grumbled, “Leave it to Jordy to scope out an expensive sports car from the front yard. He’s got a sixth sense.”
“Why is there a suitcase by the door? Are you going somewhere?” Beth called, as her lighter footsteps joined her brother’s heavier tread as they drew nearer.
“If it’s there she can’t have left yet,” her son reasoned, sounding very close.
“Oh my god!”
“Mari, it will be all right.”
“Mom?” Jordy said from the doorway, purely shocked.
“Wait,” Arturo urged, but she spun around, her hair a tousled mess from his fingers, but much worse, her blouse was still only half done up. To him, she looked hot, but to her children—well, with her lips red and swollen
from his kisses, he could imagine what they were thinking.
In the door, stood two college age kids. Both tall and blond, they were obviously siblings. Except for their vivid blue eyes, neither looked anything like their mother. They were staring at them, wide-eyed and red faced from the doorway. The girl’s blush was clearly due to embarrassment; the boy’s ruddy cheeks were from different emotions entirely, the lack of a poker face something he definitely inherited from his mother. First came shock—his mom apparently was a non-sexual being to him—uncertainty, then a hint of anger entered his narrowed gaze that fixed directly on him.
“Who is he?” The heat of his disapproval shifted briefly to Mari, then slammed back to Arturo.
“He is a friend.”
“More than that, I think,” Jordy challenged. “Your blouse is undone.”
Gape mouthed, Mari’s hands flew to her buttons. She turned her back to them as she began to do them up; unfortunately, she missed another one. His hands stayed hers and he bent and whispered in her ear. “Take another deep breath and slow down. Then check them, petite. You’ll find you’ve skipped a few.”
She gasped in dismay, not heeding any of his directives except the last one as with trembling hands she started over. Arturo stepped around her, blocking their view while she got herself together.
“I am Arturo Durand. Your mother minimized our relationship somewhat, we have been seeing each other for several weeks now.”
“I didn’t even know you were dating,” her daughter cried, clearly upset and as surprised as her brother. “It’s so soon.”
“It’s been over three years,” Mari said softly in her defense.
“Are you going somewhere?” Jordy asked.
“We were leaving for Galveston shortly,” he answered truthfully.
“Arturo!” she protested.
“You haven’t told them we’ve been seeing one another?”
“You’re dating?” Beth gasped. “And going away for the weekend?”
His phone rang on her last word. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “I’m sorry, Mari, but this is work. I must take it.” She nodded, her gaze fixed on her children. He stepped away after giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze.
French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) Page 14
