Jack looked skeptical. “Who?”
“The Gambinis.”
He stared at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “The Gambinis. What are you talking about?”
Cassie’s voice rose in excitement. “Someone told me recently that Margo Fleming is originally from Chicago, and that she has ties to the Gambini crime family. Blowing up a boat would be right up their alley, wouldn’t it?”
“Just hold on a second before you get too carried away. First of all, the Gambinis operate out of New York, and secondly, who told you that Margo Fleming has Mafia connections?”
Cassie shrugged. “Does it matter? If it’s true, that could explain everything. The boat. The beach house. Everything.”
“Yeah, except Mafia hit men don’t usually miss their targets,” Jack said dryly.
“No one’s perfect. Besides, maybe they never meant to hurt me. Maybe they’re just trying to warn me. As long as I stay away from Owen…” And that was a bit of a problem because Cassie would bet her last dollar that Celeste was even now off somewhere with Fleming. And she’d arranged for Cassie to remain behind to take the heat.
So tell him, a little voice urged Cassie. Tell Jack the truth. He’ll know what to do.
And, of course, that would be the logical thing to do. Tell him the truth, and end the whole charade right then and there. Spill her guts, and voilà. The matter became Celeste’s problem once again. Cassie could go back to her safe, nondescript little life and forget that any of this had ever happened.
Except for one thing.
She didn’t want to.
Because in spite of the danger—or maybe even because of it—she’d never felt so energized. So alive. And she liked it. She liked being the center of attention. She liked having Jack Fury look at her…as if he just might kiss her right then and there and be damned with the consequences.
Cassie had never had a man gaze at her in quite that way. Not a man like Jack, anyway. He was cool and hip and mysterious, and he moved through a world she could only imagine. A dark, dangerous, exciting world that Cassie wanted to be a part of, if even for a little while.
“Tell me about your relationship with Fleming,” he said quietly.
Cassie glanced up. “I don’t really like to talk about that.”
Jack’s gaze deepened. “I’m not judging you, Celeste.”
“I know, it’s just…I don’t want you to think badly of me,” she admitted.
Her candor seemed to surprise him. He reached out and took her hand, and that surprised Cassie. Then thrilled her. Even so innocent a contact made her have X-rated fantasies. Jack Fury seemed to bring out the worst in her. Or the best, depending on one’s perspective.
He squeezed her fingers. “I’m hardly one to cast stones. I’ve done some things in my past I’m not exactly proud of, either.”
“Really?” Like what? Cassie wanted to ask him.
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’m not perfect like that cousin you talked about. I’ve made mistakes just like everyone else.”
Cassie sighed. Defending herself was getting old. “You’ve got the wrong idea about my cousin. She’s far from perfect. She’s made her share of mistakes, too. Take her wedding, for example. She had a change of heart at the last minute and practically left the groom standing at the altar.”
Jack winced. “Now that’s just cold.”
Oh, you can forgive Celeste for having an affair with a married man, but you think I’m terrible for getting cold feet?
Cassie just couldn’t win with this guy. He seemed determined to dislike her no matter how hard she tried to dissuade him of his preconceived notions—about her and Celeste. But she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that she couldn’t compete with her glamorous cousin.
Still, she had one thing Celeste didn’t have. She had Jack Fury’s attention at the moment, and Cassie was suddenly determined to make the most it.
Who knows? Maybe by the time he finds out the truth, he’ll be so in love with me that he won’t care who I am.
Or who she wasn’t.
But…was that really what she wanted? She’d just ended one relationship. Was she ready to jump into another?
Probably not. An involvement was the last thing she needed at the moment. Instead, Cassie knew she should be trying to get her head on straight, and then decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Romance would only complicate matters.
But a man like Jack Fury didn’t come along every day, and Cassie wasn’t ready to see the last of him. She had a sudden, burning desire to know everything there was to know about him. What he’d been like growing up. The kind of women he’d been involved with.
She would give a lot to have a few minutes alone with Betty Fury.
When Cassie glanced toward the bar, she found Jack’s stepmother watching her. And she had a very strange look on her face, as if she recognized Cassie, but couldn’t quite put her finger on where they’d met.
Cassie was getting that a lot lately. And it was funny because back home in Manville, no one had ever mistaken her for Celeste, possibly because her cousin had moved away years ago. Or possibly because the pretense had brought out a side of Cassie that she’d kept hidden for most of her adult life.
Maybe it wasn’t so much the new clothes or the highlights in her hair that made her look like her cousin. Maybe it was her new attitude. Her new determination to live life to the fullest.
And Jack Fury seemed like a damn fine place to start to Cassie.
Chapter Nine
By the time they got back to the hotel, dusk had fallen. Cassie expected Jack to drop her off, but instead, he pulled up in front of the Mirabelle and handed his keys to the valet. As he came around the car, Cassie studied him with surprise. “You don’t have to come in, you know. I’ll be fine.”
“Actually, I probably should have mentioned this sooner, but I’ve booked a suite here. I’m in 3B.”
Cassie’s heart flip-flopped. “3B? But that’s—”
“Right next door to you,” he finished. “It’s for your own protection. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Cassie was thrilled at the prospect of having him so near, but even as she conjured up all kinds of interesting scenarios she tried to caution herself about losing her head altogether. If Jack really was on the trail of a jewel thief who had targeted Celeste’s diamond, then keeping an eye on her suite made sense.
But…and this was a very big but…
Cassie still didn’t trust him. Not completely.
An Interpol agent on an undercover assignment in Houston, Texas? A jewel thief who had targeted Celeste out of all the rich, diamond-studded heiresses in the world? What were the chances?
And yet it was just far-fetched enough to be true. After all, maybe an international jewel thief would think he’d have easy pickings with the good old boys down in Houston. And Owen Fleming was certainly a big enough schmuck to broadcast his purchase of a ten-carat diamond ring for his mistress. Word could easily have gotten out about the three-million-dollar piece of jewelry. So yeah, Jack Fury’s story could be true, and Cassie wanted to believe that it was.
But as they walked into the lobby, his father’s warning rang in her ears. “Watch out for that boy of mine. He’s a real slick talker. Always has been.”
They were halfway across the lobby when she halted. “I don’t have my room key. It was in my purse.” Which was now at the bottom of the Gulf, probably in several hundred pieces. She shivered as the reality of her close call came back in full force.
“We’ll get you another one from the front desk,” Jack said.
The woman behind the registration counter looked up with a smile as they approached. “May I help you?”
“I’ve lost my key card,” Cassie said. “I need to get another one.”
“Of course, Miss Fortune.” The clerk glanced at her curiously, then began to type on the keyboard. She studied the computer screen for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to charge you fo
r this one. It’s hotel policy.”
“No problem. Just put it on my account.”
“And I’ll need to see some form of identification.”
“That’s a bit of a problem,” Cassie told her. “I lost my purse—”
Just then, Lyle Lester stepped out of his office and spotting Cassie, hurried over to the desk. “Is there a problem?” he asked anxiously. As usual, he was dressed all in black—black knit shirt, black jacket, slim black pants. His gaze went back and forth from Cassie to Jack, and something that might have been disapproval flickered across his brow.
“I’ve lost my purse,” Cassie explained, “And unfortunately, I don’t seem to be able to get a new key without my ID.”
“I’ll handle this,” he said to the woman.
She glanced up in surprise, then shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mr. Lester.”
She hurried off to busy herself at the other end of the counter while Lyle took over at the computer. Within moments he had programmed Cassie a new key card, which he produced with a slight bow. “Here you are. You’re all set.”
As Cassie took the key, her fingers brushed Lyle’s, and a shiver went up her spine, but not the good kind. She all but snatched the card from his hand. “Thank you.”
His gaze moved to Jack. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Jack Fury. I’m in 3B.”
“Oh, yes, of course, Mr. Fury. You checked in yesterday, I believe. I trust your stay with us has been…satisfactory?”
Jack shrugged. “So far, so good.”
“Excellent.” Lyle shifted his focus back to Cassie. “And how was Galveston? We weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow.”
A warning shiver shot through Cassie. Jack was still standing behind her. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could sense his keen interest. “How did you know I was in Galveston?” she tried to ask casually.
One brow lifted. “You asked us to make all the arrangements for you when you booked your suite. You don’t remember?”
Cassie nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. And I suppose since you did make the arrangements that I should tell you the rental car is still in Galveston. Unfortunately, the car keys were also in my purse.”
“Not to worry. I’ll notify the rental agency immediately. If you could just give me the car’s location…”
Cassie supplied the details, then she and Jack turned toward the elevator. He took her elbow—possessively she thought…hoped?—as they crossed the lobby.
“Somebody has a little crush,” he said under his breath.
Color flooded Cassie’s cheeks. Was she that transparent?
“Could he be any more obvious?” Jack muttered.
“Oh, you mean Lyle.” Whew. “He says he’s a fan.”
“I’d say he’s more than that. The guy was practically panting—”
Panting? “Oh, my God.” Cassie whirled and grabbed Jack’s arm. “We forgot Mr. Bogart! Sissy’s going to kill me!”
“Sissy? Who’s Sissy?”
“My cousin—” Cassie bit her lip. She was getting way too careless.
“The same cousin you talked about earlier? You called her Cassie before.”
“Uh, Sissy was her nickname when we were little.” Nice save, Cass.
Or maybe not. Jack’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “What does she have to do with Mr. Bogart?”
“She…she gave him to me. Yes, and she’s still very protective of him. She’ll kill me when she finds out what I’ve done.”
“All right, calm down,” Jack said. “I’ll call my stepmother and ask her to take care of him until we can come pick him up. She’s great with dogs. He’s in good hands.”
“Are you sure? Because Mr. Bogart can be a bit of a pill at times. And he doesn’t exactly take to strangers.” Except for Jack. The dog had warmed to him immediately, and Cassie wanted to assume that was a good sign. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t get Stu Fury’s warning out of her head. Watch out for that boy of mine.
“If Betty can handle my old man, I doubt Mr. Bogart will give her much trouble.”
“You’re probably right,” Cassie murmured as the elevator doors opened.
They stepped inside, and as the doors slid closed, a feeling of déjà vu swept over Cassie. She couldn’t help lifting her gaze to the ceiling. Had someone been on top of the elevator the other night?
“Is something wrong?” Jack asked.
She tried to shrug off her unease. “I guess everything is just now catching up with me. It’s been quite a day.”
“So tell me more about this cousin of yours.”
Cassie turned in surprise. “Why? I thought you said you had no interest in her.”
Jack shrugged. “Call it a hunch, but I’m starting to think she might somehow be involved in all this.”
“She isn’t.” Not in the way he meant, anyway.
“How do you know? You said you hadn’t been close in years. People change.”
“Not…Cassie.”
He gave her a strange look. “Once a do-gooder always a do-gooder?”
What was with the attitude? He’d never even met Cassie. Well, at least, he didn’t know that he had. Why had he taken such an apparent disliking to her?
And what was it about Celeste that made a man like Jack Fury lose his perspective so utterly? That made him willing—almost eager—to overlook her flaws?
Would he ever be able to look at Cassie the way he looked at the woman he thought was Celeste?
No, because you’re not his type. You’re not exciting. You aren’t the least bit glamorous. Face it, you’re just a poor imitation of your cousin, and when Jack finds out how you’ve tricked him—
Okay, so she’d just have to make sure he didn’t find out. Because once he knew the truth, she might never see him again. Not without a sheet of bulletproof glass between them, anyway.
For now, she would do just what she’d promised herself to do. She’d live for the moment. She’d have herself a little adventure and let the future sort itself out.
Because this was the new Cassie, after all. No, this was the real Cassie. A woman determined to embrace life at any cost.
Right now, though, she’d rather embrace Jack Fury.
Because trustworthy or not, the man was seriously sexy.
As if reading her mind again, he lifted a hand to her cheek, and every nerve ending in Cassie’s body tingled. She felt as if she’d been plugged into a giant electrical outlet.
“You have sand on your face,” he murmured.
She gulped. “I do?”
His gaze deepened as his fingers brushed across her skin, and for one brief moment, Cassie could have sworn he was going to kiss her. His touch lingered and…the elevator pinged.
He didn’t even notice. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from hers.
His head lowered. He was going to kiss her. Cassie held her breath.
And then the doors slid open.
“Well, hello,” a surprised voice said from the hallway. “Are you two getting off?”
If Cassie had her way…
She glanced toward the door, and seeing Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard’s curious expression, she took a step away from Jack. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Ambrose…Pritchard…”
“It’s Evelyn, remember?” She trained her blue gaze on Jack, who had his thumb pressed against the open button. “And who is this?”
“This is Jack Fury,” Cassie supplied quickly. “Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Jack murmured.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” She presented him a delicate hand as she stepped onto the elevator.
Jack took her arched fingers and hesitated for a moment, as if not quite knowing what to do with them. Then he gave her hand a gentle shake before exiting the elevator behind Cassie.
“Celeste, dear, did you have a good time in Galveston?”
Cassie whirled. “How did you—”
The doors slid closed, hiding Mr
s. Ambrose-Pritchard’s expression.
“You told her you were going to Galveston?” Jack asked.
“No, I never said a word. How in the world could she have known?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a pensive frown. “But it seems our suspect list just got a little longer.”
AS THEY WALKED toward Celeste’s suite, Jack could hear the phone ringing inside, but instead of hurrying to unlock the door, she merely leaned against the wall and stared up at him. Her makeup had long since worn away, and the freckles he’d glimpsed earlier were now even more pronounced. They spilled across the bridge of her nose and onto her cheekbones, making her seem young and vulnerable and utterly alluring.
Those freckles added an interesting dimension to her features, Jack decided, because they were such a contrast to the rest of her. There was nothing innocent or vulnerable about that body of hers. It was curvy and soft and all woman.
He had the strongest urge to finish what he’d started in the elevator, but the interruption had probably been for the best. Getting involved with a woman like her was not the smartest move a guy like him could make. He was just a working-class stiff, and she was…way out of your league, Jackie.
Yeah, yeah, he knew all that. Unfortunately, certain parts of his anatomy hadn’t received the message yet.
She was still staring up at him through her lashes. They were dark except for the tips, which were golden. Funny how all of a sudden he was noticing all sorts of enticing little details about her.
“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” she asked almost shyly.
“A nightcap? We haven’t even had dinner yet. As a matter of fact…” The telephone kept right on ringing, and Jack glanced at the door. “Don’t you want to get that?”
“In a minute.” But she still made no move to open the door, and Jack decided she must be avoiding someone’s call.
When the ringing finally stopped, he saw her let out a long breath. Only then did she unlock the door. “You were saying something about dinner?”
Unauthorised Passion/Intimate Knowledge Page 11
