Nothing but Trouble

by Tory Richards

  “What about clothes? Surely you don’t expect to keep me in nothing but your shirt.”

  Brent opened the door, pausing in the threshold to glance back at Sophie. Her expression wasn’t hard to read. If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. A slow smile formed on his lips. Her chin raised a notch for every second his eyes raked over her scantily clad attire. He liked his shirt on her.

  “Make yourself at home.” He indicated the direction of the closet with a sweep of his arm. “What’s mine is yours. Feel free to search for something more suitable to wear.”

  Instead of acknowledging his comment, she sat down at the small table, placed the paper napkin over her lap, and then waited. She didn’t make eye contact with Brent again, but he had a hunch she wouldn’t touch her breakfast until he was on the other side of the door and she heard the sound of the lock being turned.

  Chapter 10

  “The senator’s expecting you, Mr. Howard; go right in.”

  Brent ran an appreciative glance over the senator’s secretary before walking past her desk and opening the door. Senator Adams was sitting at his desk; his head buried in a mountain of paperwork; a drink to the left of him and a plate with a half-eaten sandwich to the right. The mid-day news was on the TV in the corner but he appeared to be ignoring it.

  “Help yourself to a drink before you sit down,” he instructed Brent, still not looking up from what he was reading. “I’ll be right with you.”

  It was a little early in the day but Brent decided he could use a good stiff drink. The portable bar held a little bit of everything but he reached for the scotch, pouring a generous splash into a heavy crystal glass before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. He was just relaxing back when the senator gave a deep sigh, removing his glasses before tossing them down on top of the material he’d been studying. Leaning back in his chair he linked his hands behind his head and stretched, directing a narrowed gaze on Brent.

  “How’s my daughter holding up? She giving you any trouble?” The look in his eyes clearly revealed he was slightly amused over the prospect. He obviously didn’t have a clue that Sophie was nothing but trouble.

  Brent shrugged. “She’s your daughter; what do you think?” Taking a sip of the best scotch money could buy; he studied the senator over the rim of his glass, thinking about the lady in question. In fact he couldn’t stop thinking about her, which troubled him. She roused feelings in him he wasn’t prepared to deal with. All he wanted to do was kiss that smart mouth of hers every time she opened it. Slide his tongue inside the sweet warmth behind those sharp little teeth and drive them both a little wild. Change the sass to a purr.

  “Sophie’s a gentile lady. Her grandmother, God rest her soul, raised her and she was from the old school. I’ve never known my daughter to lose her control over any situation.”

  Well then, he doesn’t know his daughter very well. Brent thought about the scratches furrowing his chest, wondering what the senator would say about those. “For the most part you’re right on the money.” He didn’t see the need in bursting the older man’s bubble. “But she’s shown a little spirit now and again.” Unable to help the slight twitching of his lips he camouflaged it with another sip of his drink.

  “You mean she’s not using her womanly wiles on you to control the situation? While growing up, that little girl kept me twisted around her baby finger using such trickery. Something she picked up from her grandmother.” Senator Adams paused long enough to take a sip of his drink. “My mother was a southern bell during her day and taught Sophie that a little charm goes a long way. She’s used to getting what she wants.”

  And knew how to get it too. Brent wisely kept the thought to himself. He’d experienced a little of Sophie’s womanly seductiveness but he’d yet to see the southern charm the senator was talking about, except maybe when she was playing her damsel in distress act. If Sophie tried that stuff on him she’d end up wasting her natural born talent.

  “I think that’s the problem, she’s not getting what she wants. I bring out the worst in her.” He couldn’t help the little smile that spread across his chiseled lips, forgetting to disguise it this time.

  The senator’s eyes narrowed suddenly, giving Brent a long, hard look which quickly turned into a speculative gleam. “That little bit of news is interesting.”

  Worried about the glint in his eye Brent decided it was time to get down to business. He finished his drink, welcoming the raw burn that settled in his gut. At least it gave him something else to think about other than the little witch in his bedroom. “Have you found out what’s going on between your daughter and Lord, if anything?” he asked, setting his glass aside.

  Shaking his head negatively, the senator’s mouth became tight and grim beneath his neatly trimmed mustache. “Not a damn thing so far. Jonathan’s a sneaky bastard. He appears to have a lot of people in his pocket and all of them spineless cowards. Not a one willing to spill the beans on anything we can use, if they know anything. It’s frustrating as hell and my team isn’t getting anywhere.”

  Buying off your enemies was just one of the perks of being a millionaire. “Senator, if you don’t mind my asking, what makes you think Sophie doesn’t want to marry him?” He knew money was a powerful incentive. “Has she given you any reason to believe…”

  “No!” Senator Adams snapped, leaning forward with a fierce expression on his square-boned face. “I know there’s something going on here, Brent. Every time I look at her when she doesn’t know I’m watching I see the way she cringes away from him when he gets too close. I see the relief in her eyes when he finally walks away. A woman in love doesn’t act like that.”

  He took a deep breath, reaching for his glass and swallowing the contents in an angry gesture. It surprised Brent to see his hand actually shaking. He’d never known the senator to show weakness of any kind.

  “The one time I questioned her about it she brushed it aside saying I was imagining things. Said there was nothing that would keep her from getting married.” He snorted scornfully, reaching for a decanter and refilling his glass, some of the liquid splashing over onto his desk. “I should have asked her point blank if she loved the bastard.”

  Brent had seen Sophie react to Lord the same way so he knew the senator wasn’t being paranoid or just an overprotective father. Leaning back in his chair, he quietly observed his old friend. His reaction was normal for a father who loved his daughter, and had qualms about her reasons for marrying a man most of the public feared and disliked. He couldn’t help wondering if it went a lot deeper than that, though. Maybe the senator disliked Lord for other reasons. He sounded like he had a personal vendetta against his daughter’s fiancé.

  “Go ahead and say it,” the senator quipped, obviously reading his mind.

  Brent shrugged. “It sounds like you have more reasons for breaking up their relationship. Maybe your suspicions aren’t grounded. It wouldn’t be the first time someone married for money.”

  “My daughter isn’t like that, Brent,” he said, shaking his head vehemently, his brows drawn together. “Sophie has more money than she’ll ever spend in her lifetime. Yet you guessed right when you said I have reasons for wanting to stop this. I know Jonathan, too. He’s a ruthless, blackmailing bastard who doesn’t do anything without it benefiting him in some way. I’ve heard stories about him for years.”

  Brent wondered what kind of dirt Lord had dug up on Sophie, or the senator. He searched his memory for anything he could recall hearing during the ten years they’d known each other; some tiny bit of gossip that usually had a way of surfacing when someone ran for office, whether it ended up in the news or not. However, nothing came to mind that would ruin the senator’s career.

  “Then maybe you’d better focus on what that something could be,” Brent remarked dryly, running his hands through his dark hair. “Because if Lord’s blackmailing her, it must be pretty big. And when you find out what it is you’d better be prepared to make a dec
ision.”

  He knew the senator was smart enough to figure out what he meant. When the time came, his decision would probably be based on whether he wanted to continue with his political career or not. Could he sacrifice Sophie if it came to that?

  The news came back on, catching Brent’s attention. He turned in time to see an instant replay of an earlier broadcast about Sophie’s abduction, his eyes turning hard with contempt. “I specifically told Lord not to notify the media. If this had been a real kidnapping her life wouldn’t have been worth squat after this aired the first time.”

  A snort erupted from Senator Adams, who was also watching the news as well. “Jonathan’s always been more concerned with how he looks in the public eye. He thrives in the limelight. But that doesn’t make things easier for you, Brent.”

  “Yeah.” Brent nodded regretfully, deciding there was really nothing more he could add to that. “I contacted Lord with the particulars a couple hours ago,” he revealed, turning away from the TV. Lord’s indignant reaction to his outrageous demands still caused him to smile.

  “Don’t make things too easy for him. I need more time to dig around.”

  “Ten million in unmarked bills to start out with. He’s demanding proof that Sophie’s alive and well. I’m going to send him a snapshot, which he’ll never buy. He’ll want something more tangible like hearing her voice on the phone. By the time we go back and forth with that you should have enough time to find what you’re looking for.” He prayed.

  “Hopefully,” Senator Adams added with a grin. “I like your plan, even if it makes you seem a little incompetent.”

  They both knew Brent was anything but.

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Sophie’s face flashed before Brent’s eyes as he rose to leave. A sudden worry of what kind of mischief she’d been up to while he was gone filled his gut with dread. “I think it’s time I get back.” He held out his hand.

  “Tell my daughter I…” The senator caught himself, rising to his feet and taking Brent’s hand. “Never mind.” Both men knew what he’d been about to say. “I’ll expect a phone call every day at the agreed upon time.”

  Brent prayed the next time he phoned, the senator would have an update; like it was over and he could release Sophie. Tom was already complaining that the stress was making his ulcer act up. Moreover, he was convinced he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison. Brent hoped telling Tom to eat the chocolate gun he’d used on Sophie calmed his fears long enough to get him through this.

  As he pulled into a parking spot at the apartment complex a flash of white caught his eye, causing him to glance up in time to see several pieces of paper floating to the ground. He slid from the vehicle, shielding his eyes against the sun while taking in the small plane flying overhead. The advertisement banner trailing behind it was a normal sight, some advertisement for a seafood restaurant down the road, but he didn’t for one minute believe they were getting away with littering the area with flyers.

  When one landed at his feet he bent, snatching it up out of curiosity.

  “Son of a—” He skimmed over the handwritten note with growing trepidation. In the prettiest penmanship he’d ever seen were the words, Reward! I’m Senator Adams’ daughter and I’ve been kidnapped! I’m being held in a seventh floor apartment in Bayside Towers!

  His unease quickly grew to rage of gigantic proportions as more flyers began to float to the ground around him like falling snowflakes. Sooner or later someone else is bound to get nosey and pick one up too. He crumbled the paper in his fist, making a run for the ground elevator. As it made a slow ascent to the seventh floor his mind raced with options of what he could do, short of ringing her little neck!

  * * * *

  Sophie was standing at the bay window, slowly releasing more homemade flyers, when she heard Brent’s angry voice in the other room, demand, “Where the hell did she get all that paper?”

  She couldn’t help smiling when she heard Tom repeat the same story she’d told him. “She said she wanted to write down her thoughts. That it would give her something to do, and take her mind off being cooped up. Why? What happened?”

  “There are flyers all over the damn parking lot! Pack up anything personal and be ready to leave in five minutes; we can’t stay here now.”

  Sophie could tell by Brent’s voice that he was getting closer to the bedroom. The next thing she knew the door flew open and slammed against the wall. She let out a small shriek, pressing her back against the window frame. Her eyes rounded with fear as he stomped toward her. The look on his dark face convinced her that he might just toss her out the window. She quickly threw the rest of her flyers out before running to the other side of the room, and putting the bed between them.

  “You’ve really done it now,” he said between clenched teeth, his eyes glittering with cold fury. Uncurling his fisted hand, he let a paper ball drop to the floor.

  Sophie’s gaze watched it hit the carpet before she unwillingly met the storm simmering in Brent’s predatory eyes. There was no use denying it; he’d caught her red-handed. And there was no sense in trying to run, since she knew he’d only catch her. She had no choice but to stand her ground. She took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. Yet, when Brent was within a foot of her she lost her nerve and spun around to flee.

  “Not so fast!” His hand shot out, catching the collar to her shirt, effectively halting Sophie’s escape before it even got started. The sound of buttons popping off and seams ripping caused her to gasp. “You’re turning out to be more trouble than you’re worth,” he growled, jerking her backwards against him.

  “You would have done the same thing!” Sophie insisted, bracing herself for his retaliation. What did he expect me to do, sit around like some helpless woman and calmly await my fate? Her father had taught her long ago that there were some things in life she could control just by simply taking command.

  “You’re too clever for your own damn good,” he remarked, his gruff tone laced with what sounded like grudging admiration.

  “I’ve had plenty of spare time on my hands,” she replied smartly. The more time they wasted discussing it the longer the authorities had to arrive. “If I were you, I’d take off while you still have a chance.”

  “Don’t worry about me, lady. You’re the one who’s going to pay the price for your little trick.”

  What did he mean by that? Brent spun her around; his lips thin with anger. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your plans,” she said in an insincere tone. She wasn’t sorry about anything.

  “That’s okay, I’m about to ruin yours.” He gave her a shake and the breath caught in Sophie’s throat when she felt the shirt slipping off her shoulders.

  “There’s nothing you can do that would make matters any worse,” she retorted heatedly. If she didn’t do something soon she would end up stark naked. As the soft fabric began to slide over her breast she made a grab for it, jerking it back into place.

  Brent’s gaze dropped and Sophie glanced down to see plenty of cleavage and the swell of one breast. Her gaze widened when she realized the hard little nubs outlined against the material were her nipples.

  He sucked in his breath, letting his grip slacken.

  “Making an escape with a half-naked woman won’t go unnoticed,” he grumbled angrily.

  Especially one as well known as I am. She smiled, meeting the anger simmering in his eyes. “Looks like you have a problem.”

  “Come on.” He pulled her with him to the closet. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”

  “Where are we going?” Once inside the closet he forced her in front of him. He started looking through his clothes. “If I were you I’d let me go. You’ll have a better chance of getting away.” The confined space of the closet made Sophie very aware of their proximity. Brent’s scent was intoxicating. The heat radiating off his body made her aware of him as a desirable man.

  Growling something unintelligible beneath his breath, he continued searching throu
gh his things over the top of her head. “If I had time I’d wipe that smug expression off your face,” he threatened, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

  Tom chose that moment to stick his head into the room. “I’m all packed.”

  “Check the place over thoroughly; make sure there’s nothing here that will give our identities away. Then I want you to get the hell out of here and go home. I don’t want you any more involved than necessary.”

  “But…”

  “You heard me, Tom. It’s just the princess and me from here on out. The place we’re heading isn’t big enough for the three of us.”

  Sophie gave Tom a thorough inspection, committing him to memory so she could give the authorities an accurate description later on. She could tell by his expression that he was almost relieved, yet hesitant. After a moment he turned and left.

  Her gaze returned to Brent to find him scowling down at her. “I think your partner’s worried about his share of the ransom money,” she said.

  He released a tired sigh. “Believe me, if we get any ransom, he can have it all.”

  “What will you get?”

  He was in the process of pulling a pair of sweats and a lightweight jacket off a hanger, when her question caused him to pause. “Peace and quiet,” he said after a while. “And don’t waste your breath giving the authorities our description later; I saw how you were looking Tom over. We’ll be out of the country before you can count to ten.”

  Sophie was secretly relieved at his comment. She’d wondered why they hadn’t kept her blindfolded, worried at what that could mean. She’d seen enough movies to know it didn’t usually bode well for the kidnap victim when they saw their kidnappers’ faces.

  “You’re awful sure of yourself.”

  “You think you’re the first person we’ve kidnapped? I’ve been doing this a long time, princess, and they haven’t caught me yet. Remember the Holland case?”