Her Mr. Right?

by Karen Rose Smith

  He addressed Neil. “I’d like to talk to Isobel for a few minutes. Alone.”

  “Why is that necessary?” Neil countered, on the defensive, ready to protect her.

  Isobel wanted to know what the judge was thinking and to get a glimpse behind the stoic facade he wore. “It’s all right, Neil.”

  “You’re sure?” It was his investigator’s voice that wanted the truth.

  “I’m sure. I’d like to get to know your dad better.”

  “I’ll be in the living room,” he told her as he went inside. She knew if she needed him, all she had to do was call.

  A slight breeze ruffled the leaves on the decades-old trees and blew Isobel’s hair across her cheek. She swept it away and just waited.

  “Let’s get to the bottom line,” the judge decided. “Are you and my son serious?”

  “Maybe you should be asking him that,” she responded softly.

  He frowned. “I didn’t come out here to spar with you.”

  “Why did you come out here?”

  He looked a little surprised that she was questioning him.

  “I want to know what Neil’s getting himself into. It’s been a long time since he brought a woman here.”

  “Exactly how long has it been?” she asked.

  As if debating whether he wanted to answer her or not, he took a few moments, then he replied, “He hasn’t brought anyone here since his divorce.”

  Could Neil really be serious about her? Did they have a chance to be together beyond his investigation?

  Before she could even answer those questions in her mind, the judge warned, “Don’t think you’re going to get your hands on his money. After one failed marriage, I’m sure he’d ask for a prenuptial agreement.”

  “I didn’t know Neil had any money,” she blurted out honestly.

  The judge motioned to the house and the surroundings. “When you saw this, you knew. I’m sure Neil indicated the lifestyle he grew up with.”

  “Your property and standard of living has nothing to do with Neil now.”

  “He’ll inherit someday. A smart woman—and you strike me as a smart woman—will consider that.”

  Up until now, Isobel had tried to remain polite. After all, these were Neil’s parents and, truth be told, she wanted them to like her. But the judge already had a preconceived notion of who she was. So maybe she needed to do some plain speaking to get her point across.

  She looked him straight in the eye. “Money can’t buy happiness. If I wanted proof of that, I can look at you and your wife and know it.”

  He blustered. “Who do you think—?”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “I know about loss. My mother died four years ago. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. No amount of money will bring her back. I suspect that’s what you feel about the son you lost. Neil told me there’s distance between you two, and that’s what I can’t understand. You lost one son, but you still have Neil. You should be proud you raised such a wonderful man and you should be doing everything in your power not to lose him, too!”

  Silence stretched long between them until the judge decided, “This isn’t any of your business.”

  “You made it my business when you came out here to question me.”

  After he studied her for a few tense moments, he looked into the darkness and the trees in the backyard. “Neil and I haven’t been close since before Garrett died.”

  “Is that because Garrett was your favorite?”

  When the judge’s gaze found hers, she knew she was right.

  “Maybe he was after he was born, but I was always proud of Neil. I had great expectations for him. He could have been anything he’d chosen to be. If he didn’t want to go into law, he could have become a doctor, a physicist, absolutely anything. But he has no ambition. You heard what he said about going into politics.”

  She leaned forward, interested in how Neil’s father thought. “Why do you believe ambition has to be lofty? Neil became a police officer so he could catch the bad guys. Now he holds a trusted position in the Attorney General’s Office. Why isn’t it enough for you that he cares about what he does, that he thinks he can right wrongs his way?”

  Neil’s dad fell into silence again. Finally, he asked, “That’s the way he sees it?”

  “Yes, that’s the way he sees it. As a judge, you see the results of a situation. Neil takes an active part in finding out the truth, making sure the right person gets blamed, which doesn’t always happen in the legal system.”

  When Neil’s father didn’t respond, Isobel wondered if maybe she should leave him and go inside.

  His voice was somewhat less arrogant when he concluded, “You and my son have more than a…surface relationship.”

  She knew what those code words meant. The judge thought they were sleeping together and that’s what had brought them together. Maybe their attraction had brought them together, but she and Neil communicated on lots of other levels, too. “Yes, we do.”

  “I don’t meet many young women who say what’s on their mind in such a thoughtful manner,” he admitted a bit awkwardly.

  “I handle sticky situations a lot, so I’ve had practice.”

  The judge gave a light chuckle. “You’re a match for Neil. I can see that. He needs a strong woman. He has a stubborn streak that I’m sure he didn’t inherit from me.” There was some slight amusement in Neil’s dad’s words and she wondered what would happen if he and his son had an honest and heartfelt conversation.

  The subtle relaxation of tension between them led Isobel to say, “I think you and Neil are more alike than you realize.”

  “But we don’t want to admit it?”

  With her cards on the table as well as his, she could afford to be diplomatic, “Something like that.”

  “I think I just saw Neil’s shadow pass by the French doors. We’d better assure him I haven’t upset you to the point of tears.”

  “You haven’t upset me, Judge,” she assured him.

  He opened the door. “Good, because I think I’d like to have more conversations with you in the future.”

  Neil was standing inside, and he studied her closely. “Everything okay?”

  To Neil’s surprise, the judge patted his shoulder. “If she can hold her own with me, she can hold her own with anyone.” He shrugged out of his jacket. “I’m going to find your mother and see if I can rustle up another piece of that apple pie. If you’re interested,” he pointed his thumb at the kitchen, “I’ll be in there.”

  After his dad left the room, Neil took Isobel by the shoulders. “I hope he didn’t insult you. He has a way—”

  “He didn’t. Actually I think your dad and I understand each other.”

  Neil finally broke into a smile. “The same way your dad and I understand each other?”

  “Precisely.”

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to tell me about it. Do you want a piece of pie?”

  She didn’t, but she could nibble while Neil and his father took a few tenuous steps toward each other. “I’ll have a cup of tea. You have a piece of pie and we’ll see if we can’t have some conversation that doesn’t put everyone on edge.”

  “That’ll be the day.” Neil brought her into his chest for a tight hug and a quick but deep kiss. When they broke apart, he said, “We have separate rooms at the inn and that’s the way it will stay if you want it that way. But I—”

  Neil’s cell phone rang. After he fished it out of his pocket, he checked the caller ID. “It’s my office. I need to take this.”

  Apparently Neil’s office never shut down and he was always on call. She wished their kiss had been longer, deeper, more intimate. Tonight…

  She still hadn’t made up her mind about tonight. She reached up and stroked his jaw. “I’ll save you a piece of pie,” she assured him, and went to the kitchen, considering the consequences of joining Neil in his room tonight…considering her regrets if she didn’t.

  Neil’s phone call had trou
bled him, Isobel could tell. He’d acted as if it hadn’t. He’d eaten his piece of pie, complimented his mother on it again, and asked his dad how his book was going. But underneath it all, she could see in his eyes when he looked at her that the call had bothered him.

  He’d been so careful with her as they’d checked in at the Victorian inn where he’d reserved their rooms. He’d kissed her good-night at her door—the other room on their floor was unoccupied—with more restraint than she’d ever felt him use. It hadn’t been what she’d expected at all. She’d expected to be swept away. She’d expected him to kiss her senseless until there was no decision to make. But he hadn’t. He’d told her he’d see her in the morning and went into his room, next to hers.

  Isobel changed into her nightgown. She attempted to read and didn’t absorb any of the words on the page. She tried to sleep but thoughts of Neil and what they could be doing together kept her awake. Then there were the sounds from his room, the creak of the floorboards, first on one side of the room and then the other, the hum of the small printer he carried with his computer that told her he might be working, the sound of his door opening as he went into the bathroom, ran the shower, and then returned once more to his bedroom.

  Maybe if she took a shower she’d be able to sleep, maybe it would relax her. Twenty minutes later, Isobel had showered, too, and dried her hair. It was a soft mass of wild curls all over her head. After she slipped on her nightgown once more, she studied her face in the mirror.

  What do you really want? she asked herself.

  That answer was easy—another night with Neil, a whole night with Neil, maybe every night with Neil until he left Walnut River. Sure, she could try to keep her heart safe. She could pretend the love she felt for him would go away after he was gone. She could deny the desire that right now made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before.

  Or…

  She could take the risk of finding out if he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Sliding into the satin mules that matched her gown—the slippers, gown and robe had been a set Debbie had given her last Christmas—she left the robe hanging on the bathroom door. She hesitated in the hall outside Neil’s room. Was she being altogether foolish?

  There was only one way to find out. She knocked.

  When Neil answered his door, his face was more stoic than she’d ever seen it. He looked down over the pale-green, satin nightgown, his gaze lingering on her breasts, on the curve of her hips, before returning to her face. “Do you need something?”

  His voice was gravelly and she hoped that was because she was affecting him the way he was affecting her. He wore navy flannel jogging shorts and a drawstring dangled tantalizingly at his navel. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t get this over with and find out if she was going to sleep in her room or his.

  “Can we talk?” she asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

  The nerve in Neil’s jaw worked. “If you come in and go anywhere near the bed, I might not let you leave until morning.”

  “Maybe I won’t want to leave until morning.”

  “Are you saying—”

  She blurted out, “I’m saying that I’ve never stood at a man’s door like this before…that if you don’t let me inside, you’ll have to carry me somewhere.”

  Instead of stepping back so she could enter, he folded his arms around her and held her tight. “Knees still wobbly?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. I know you’ll catch me if I fall.”

  Then his smile faded. “I didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want…or that you’d regret.”

  “I’m here of my own free will. My only regret would be not coming to you tonight.”

  This time when Neil kissed her, he did sweep her away. He didn’t hold back. He took as much as she could give and then he took some more. She couldn’t distinguish his taste from hers and she didn’t want to. She couldn’t remember what it was like to take a breath and she didn’t care.

  Neil was hard against her. She could feel his heat through his shorts, through the thin layer of her gown. With him six inches taller than she was, neither of them could get the satisfaction they wanted. His hand slid down her back to her buttocks and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him and her slippers fell off. He walked backward until they reached the bed and then he sat with her, kissing her, until they tumbled onto the mattress, each reaching for the other. They were as hungry for each other as they had been the first time. Even hungrier.

  In spite of their eagerness, Neil didn’t rush. He pushed the spaghetti strap of her nightgown off one shoulder and tasted her skin along her collarbone down to her breast. Her nightgown kept getting in the way so he helped her out of it, then dropped his shorts.

  After a long, teasingly seductive kiss, he whispered against her lips, “Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”

  She kept her eyes closed, still lost in desire. But she heard him rifle through his duffel bag. In no time at all he was back. Now she did open her eyes and what she saw in his took her breath away.

  “I want you so much my fingers are shaking,” he admitted wryly as he tore open the condom packet.

  “And I want you so badly I’m shaking all over,” she confessed. Taking the packet from him, slipping out the condom, she waited for him to lie back so she could prepare him.

  “Are you going to torture me?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “I wouldn’t call it torture.” Her voice was as sensually enticing as her fingers as they teased and tempted and then finally rolled down the condom to cover him.

  As soon as she finished, he pulled her to him for a kiss and then rolled her over so he was on top. “This time I’m not going to hurry.”

  “You hurried before?” she teased.

  “I lost control before.”

  Then his mouth was on hers again and Neil filled her senses and her mind and her heart. As he promised, he didn’t rush. He kissed every inch of her until she was mindless with need, calling his name, begging for fulfillment. Finally he entered her slowly, oh so slowly. When she lifted her hips to take more of him, he chuckled, then continued his tempting possession. By the time he filled her completely, she was halfway there, rising fast, reaching for the farthest star. He began thrusting, taking her farther and farther until she caught the starburst and let it break all around her. His release sounded just as satisfying, just as wrenching, just as heart-enveloping. He said her name so tenderly tears burned in her eyes. Moments later, he was cuddling her, holding her so close she still felt one with him. She fell asleep that way, dreaming of tomorrow.

  Isobel had fallen asleep by the time Neil slipped away from her and went into the bathroom. His mind was a turbulent maze, his thoughts scattered and unfocused because of what had just happened between them. She’d given herself to him completely.

  So now what was he going to do? The phone call from his supervisor, Derek Grayson, was a complication he’d never expected. The mole, whoever it was, had digitally altered his voice every time he called. Today he’d left a message on Neil’s supervisor’s answering machine. Derek had repeated it verbatim.

  As Neil climbed into bed beside Isobel once more, he studied her, knowing that this newest information certainly wasn’t true. The gist of it was that Isobel Suarez was taking kickbacks from Pine Ridge Rehab.

  How he wanted to tell her about it and trust her with the information. But he couldn’t. He had to go by the book. He couldn’t prejudice this investigation in any way.

  Doesn’t sleeping with her prejudice it? the devil’s advocate inside his head asked.

  No. Because he knew she wasn’t guilty. He was absolutely certain.

  He needed time to figure out what to do. But how much time could he give it? Could he get to the truth in the questioning he had left to do?

  Or would he have to formulate a plan that could tear them apart?

  Chapter Ten

 
; The past week had been…

  Neil couldn’t even describe it as he lay beside Isobel in his room at the Inn after the senior center auction.

  He ran his hand tenderly through Isobel’s curly hair. She was cuddled naked by his side, nestled into his shoulder, and he wished he could keep her there forever. But after tomorrow, she’d look at him differently. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to take the allegations against her to her supervisor. He’d hoped he’d have figured out over the past week who the mole was, that the information his office had received was groundless. But that hadn’t happened and he had to get to the truth. His investigation had to take precedence over anything personal, didn’t it?

  Would Isobel ever forgive him for following regulations and keeping the charges against her to himself until they could be handled as his supervisor suggested? He hadn’t needed Derek to remind him that if he gave the information to Isobel, she could clean up anything she’d been involved in. They had to go through the proper channels. As soon as he reported the claims against Isobel to her supervisor, he’d be on the phone to Pine Ridge, warning the administrators there not to talk to Isobel until the investigation was over.

  “I can’t believe we raised almost nine thousand dollars,” Isobel mumbled against his chest.

  “That’s what you’re thinking about at a time like this?” he teased, partitioning off his work from his personal life as he had all week. Each day they’d managed to steal time for themselves. This afternoon, they’d come back to the Inn, eager to undress and please each other in bed.

  “What better time?” she returned. “I want to know why a bachelor needs a handmade quilt.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as she sifted her fingers through his chest hair.

  “My mother likes anything hand-crafted. It will make a wonderful birthday gift.”

  “You don’t need it to keep you warm on long, cold nights in Boston?”