“We need to talk,” Colette says with a meaningful glance toward Penelope.
“I can tell it must be important if you come all the way here.” I get to my feet, slowly, as if this situation isn’t highly unsettling. “Let’s go inside.”
“Do you think you’re going to need me for this?” Penelope asks, surprising me.
I shake my head. “Take your time, I’ll be right back. I’m sure Ms. Grady didn’t mean to stay long.”
Colette hasn’t missed the jibe. She purses her lips in disapproval, but follows me inside the house and into the den.
“Can I offer you something?”
She slumps into a couch, leaning forward to cover her face with her hands. “Oh God, Carter, stop it. You can’t do this!”
“Do what?” It’s only 10 a.m., but I kind of feel like drinking again. Too many loose ends and wild cards.
“That’s Penny Elliot—which doesn’t come as such a big surprise to me, but you should know your fake gardener is trying to cut a deal. After all, that picture of you and Laydon does exist—”
“I didn’t know!”
“I believe you.”
That’s a cold comfort right now, but I’m not in the position to antagonize her too much, so I sit down and wait for her to continue.
“He knows that Penny is here. He will name names, and someone will connect the cases. If you let her go with me now, we could figure out something—”
“No!” We both flinch. I know it’s a risk, but the even greater risk lies in changing plans at this point. We need more time. “I can’t do that.”
“Come on. We agree that it’s important to bust Laydon. I don’t want you to become collateral damage because you had to live out some rich girl fantasy. I will talk to her. I’m sure you treated her well, and there’s still a chance we can make this go away. If my colleagues find out…” She shrugs, leaving me to imagine the possibilities, none of them good.
“You aren’t going to tell them, are you?”
She fixes me with an annoyed glare. “It’s only a matter of time, Carter! You’ve gone too far! I know you like to bend the rules for the greater good, but this is different. This is only for you, because you can’t possibly have anyone say no to you.”
“Are you done?” I ask, satisfied my voice sounds sufficiently icy. “She didn’t say no.”
“Penny Elliot was kidnapped from her apartment, taken to a private jet and flown here. No, I’m not done yet. Can’t you see that I’m trying hard to help you?”
“Penelope is my guest. She’s taking a year off from school and work. She can call her parents or friends anytime.”
Colette jumps to her feet, her stance radiating frustration. Too bad I can’t help her.
“Somebody will come here with a warrant, soon. I warned you.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing to worry about. I will, however, confer with my attorney to be prepared for any possible…let’s say, missteps by the police. I hope your colleagues will do the right thing and stay out of the way. I believe you have some bad guys to catch, but if anyone wants to come harass me, I’m not shying away from a long and messy lawsuit.”
I’m good at this. I can see the hint of doubt in Colette’s expression, even if she and I know that I’d be much better off avoiding said lawsuit. Messy is a euphemism. Being accused of any wrongdoing would put douchebags like Wellington at too much of an advantage. I can’t risk the integrity of my business, but I can’t risk Penelope either.
Colette squares her shoulders. “I see this was pretty futile. I’ll have to lay low from now on, so don’t expect to hear from me for a while. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Marlene will see you out.”
Lost in thought, I go back outside to join Penelope. To my dismay, I realize she barely touched the food on her plate.
“Is that the cop?” she asks.
“Don’t worry, she’s still on our side.” It’s amazing how my side became ours. Encounters with life-and-death situations and sleazes like Laydon easily make that happen.
“You keep telling me not to worry, yet a lot is happening all of a sudden. Who are you? What kind of businesswoman is involved in this kind of stuff?”
That’s a good question. “Security will be tighter from now on. We usually run a background check for new employees, but we’ll improve that too. I promise you, nothing is going to happen to you again, while you’re in my house. I’m sorry,” I interrupt my ramblings.
She goes back to eating her breakfast. Fortunately, Marlene brought some fresh coffee in the meantime.
* * * *
Marlene is present at the meeting, almost in tears as she apologizes profusely. I’ve known her and her husband for a long time. They’ve been working for me ever since I bought this property. I know they are beyond reproach. Hanks, that’s the name he gave to them, and on his résumé, had some friends in common. Apparently, he knew about Marlene’s long-term employment with me, and he asked if we were hiring, which, conveniently, we were at the time.
“His record was clean,” I say. “I don’t blame you. We just have to be more careful in the future. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.”
I remember the file on Penelope which was perfectly clean as well, no parking ticket, no missed payment ever even when funds were tight. Appearances can be deceiving, but not in her case. She is everything she promised to be.
After everyone is up to date, Nick and I talk to the staff about new and improved screenings.
Will this help to keep out the next Hanks? God, I sure hope so.
I don’t realize how late it is until Nick says, “It looks like everyone’s on the same page now. I’m heading home if that’s okay. Call me if you need me. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s word on Laydon.”
I have no idea where the day went. “Thanks. You can go.”
I walk him out, and he asks about Colette’s visit. “She’s not going to be any trouble, is she? I think right now we have all we can handle and more.”
“She came to warn me,” I reveal. “God, how could I be so stupid? Maybe I should listen more often to people who warn me.”
Nick has read between the lines. “You couldn’t know about Hanks. None of us really did. We just got lucky.”
“Yeah, lucky. He would have sold her to Laydon for a few hundred.” My stomach churns at the thought.
“You got there in time, and Ms. Elliot is safe,” he reminds me. “Will you be taking into consideration what Grady told you.”
I sigh. “You know I can’t.” Fortunately, he doesn’t try to change my mind.
“I guess you’re right. Good night, Carter.”
“Good night.”
Chapter Twelve
We replace the bandages with band-aids, and we settle in for a quiet evening with a light meal, rice, fruit, a glass of wine much unlike yesterday that almost turned into a drunken binge. We turn in early, but it’s not to sleep, not yet.
Penelope regards me curiously. “Why am I here?” she asks.
“Oh, there I thought the heavy questions could wait until everything is back to normal.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yes, I know, but I told you before. I wanted you. This is why you’re here.”
In the big scheme of things, this is still relevant to the truth, even more so when I did such a shitty job keeping her safe.
Penelope shakes her head, laughing. “No one does that. It’s not exactly easy to figure you out, but you’re not a bad person. Believe me, after my run-in with the real bad guys, nothing you did can compare, and that’s a good thing. I want to understand.”
“Is that so hard to believe?” I’m so relieved to be finally here, alone with her, no one interfering for the moment. It’s getting me in a mood. “That someone would look at you and simply couldn’t resist?”
She blushes.
“Besides, I think we’ve already established I was right. I love to touch you. I love the way you feel, and
I knew it would be that way. I knew you’d feel the same.”
“You’re not even having second thoughts. You’re that sure.” Penelope laughs again, a bit self-conscious, her cheeks a healthy pink.
“I’d like to touch you right now,” I murmur, scooting closer to her. “Would that be okay? I’ll be careful.”
It might be delicate at this moment, only a day after two criminals tried to steal her away from me, when she’s still bruised, but maybe a distraction will be welcome. I know how to touch her. She knows it too, her eyes darkening at the suggestion. I kiss her lips, very softly, placing my hand on her thigh above the band-aid. Her breath catches in her throat as my hand wanders upwards.
“Are you still having doubts about why I chose you? Let me remind you.”
Her eyes never leave mine, a small gasp escaping her when my fingers brush over the fabric of her panties, back and forth, lightly, then slip underneath. She moves her hips forward, into my touch, and I’m pleased, but not surprised to feel warm wetness coating my fingertips.
“You are beautiful. You are everything I want. Let me show you.”
“You are…very convincing.”
Penelope leans back into the pillow, opening her legs further to me, and I follow the silent invitation, stroking her gently until her breathing becomes faster, she closes her eyes, arches her back, closer to the inevitable climax.
“I like this,” she confesses. I reach up with one hand to touch her cheek, the skin warm under my touch. “This is all weird, but…I won’t lie to you. I want it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I take my time with her. After all, it’s not like the world as we know it could crumble around us at any moment. For a few hours, I want to forget about Colette’s dire prophecies, and with Penelope squirming under my touch, it’s a lot easier. It’s an amazing, heady mix, lust, affection, power. She takes my fingers easily, her body warm and ready.
“I want you to have everything you want.” I press deeper into her, my thumb brushing over her clit, and I feel her tighten around my fingers in answer. “Do you want to come?” She moans, a little dirty talk pushing her closer to the brink. “You’re almost there. I can feel it,” I say, keeping up the rhythm. “You’re so hot. When I saw you the first time, I knew you’d be perfect. You knew it too, that I could make you feel this way, didn’t you?” She stiffens, a series of helpless sounds spilling over her lips as she gives in, gives herself into my hands completely.
Only when her body stills, her breathing still coming in gasps, I carefully withdraw my fingers. Penelope opens her eyes, gazing up at me with a warm sated smile. The world has righted itself once more.
* * * *
I know Penelope wants to reciprocate, but I tell her not tonight. I want tonight to be all about her, do whatever possible to chase away the memory of last night’s events and what they could have led to. I want her to know her home is here with me, and there’s one particular way of conveying the message that always seems to work best for us. After taking a quick shower and brushing teeth, we retreat to my bedroom once more. There’s no need for sleepwear this time.
To be honest, I didn’t plan on bringing her to my office or my bedroom so soon, but everything happened quicker than planned, even the unexpected, bad surprises. As surprises go, this is a beautiful one, Penelope, gloriously naked, stretched out in the center of the king size bed. I stand there for a moment, just watching her, and she giggles, a bit nervous.
“Could you come over here? I feel weird.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so. Does that mean I’m allowed to leave the house unattended?”
I climb onto the bed with her, gently part her thighs to kneel between them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?” I believe her question was only half-serious, now that she has learned not everyone out there is friendly. I haven’t told her about Hanks being arrested, or that Laydon is a possible next candidate. Another time. For now, I want her attention elsewhere.
“You’re so funny.”
“Don’t I know it.”
A light touch reveals that talking is not all she had on her mind either, and I lean forward to taste her, smiling at her whispered, “Oh God.”
In the beginning, I thought restraints would serve her well, to really let go, abandon all responsibility and residual guilt for wanting what I could offer—but this is even better.
Penelope knows where she belongs—here, with me. Sweet surrender. It’s not a metaphor. One year, we might be kidding ourselves. With something this good, it’s hard not to lose track of the specifics. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let her go. At least, at this moment, she doesn’t want me to, judging from her soft whimpers, her body moving underneath me, shuddering, still wanting more—and she gets it all.
When she’s asleep in my arms, I indulge us for a few minutes before I put on a robe and steal away to my office. There are messages from one of the women I hired to play one of the friends who’d break the news about Penelope to the book club. It’s not good.
They won’t let go, she writes. I had to lay low for a while. I stare at the screen, thinking that Penelope’s impeccable record and work ethics present a problem. We were careful, with the people we placed and the job they did.
Still, no one seems to believe that she’d simply take a few months off, and meanwhile, Hanks is trying to cut a deal. Damn it. I don’t want to go, but it looks like I can’t avoid it. I have to talk to the people on the ground, so to speak—and maybe I’ll have to talk to the local police about the shooting, give them a story that will not make them go so easy on Hanks while still getting to Laydon.
Taking over Wellington’s business was child’s play in comparison, though I see he’s still dissing me in the press. I’ll have to issue a statement on that too. It feels like too much reality all of a sudden. Oh well. I’ll take care of it, as usual.
* * * *
The day is already dawning when I crawl into bed, for a few more minutes. Penelope is still asleep. I am tempted. What if I took her along? I’ll have security personnel with me at all times, nothing would happen to her. I know it’s impossible, but I indulge the fantasy for a little while, thinking we could go somewhere else, Europe maybe…We can’t. I have to take care of business, and Nick will have to hold the fort.
When Penelope starts to stir, I call Marlene and ask her to prepare a room service breakfast, comfort style. What I have to tell Penelope is not so comforting.
She hides halfway under the covers, obviously a bit mortified when Marlene rolls in breakfast. Even I’m surprised how she managed to get waffles ready this quickly, but I’m grateful. I’ll have to sweeten up the news every which way that I can.
“What time is it?” Penelope asks when we’re alone again.
“Early.” I get out of bed, put on the robe again until I realize she doesn’t have any clothes in this room. I open the wardrobe and hand her another robe. “I thought we could still have breakfast together. I need to leave for a few days, take care of a few things—this time for real.”
She looks crestfallen, and, I realize, scared. “Nick and Marlene won’t let you out of their sight, and we’ve taken measures to increase security. I’m sorry, but I can’t postpone it.”
“What am I going to do in the meantime?”
“Try to relax. Don’t talk to strangers.” She walks into my embrace, and I hold on tight, the moment too raw, too emotional. “I can’t stay too long anyway. We heard that Hanks, the wannabe gardener, has been arrested, and he might try to cause me trouble. Not with so much success as I haven’t heard from the local police yet, but I promise, I’ll be back soon to deal with it.”
“I feel bad,” she confesses. “You deal with this all by yourself. Is there really no way I can help you?”
“You do help. Coming home to you is the best I ever had in my life.”
Penelope ponders my words as she sits down to eat. I
didn’t expect an answer, so her next words startle me.
“What happens after that, when you come back? You said you’d take a vacation too, but that time has gone now, so…You’ll be here for a few days at a time and then go back to work, and I stay here?”
I hold her gaze until she blushes. “You know the rules.”
“I thought you trust me, after everything.”
“I do more than trust you.” I hope she gets the meaning, because with all this trouble brewing, I’m not ready to say the words. Yet—or ever. I’m sure she knows the truth anyway. “I want all of you—we both need that time.”
“As long as you lock me in, you’ll never have all of me,” she says, sounding sad about her conclusion. It is a sad one indeed. The truth doesn’t always set you free, does it?
“Give me a little more time. I’ll help you with a way to resume your studies, and find a job. Until then, I’m going to be selfish. I want you all to myself. I believe you have enjoyed yourself. Haven’t you?”
She doesn’t answer, aware that this is an argument she can’t win at the moment.
“Be safe,” I whisper. “I have lots of plans for you when I come back.”
Penelope tries to suppress the smile, but she fails. All those plans will come to pass soon.
* * * *
Coming back to headquarters and the life before her is frustrating and headache inducing. No wonder my carefully planted person had to go into hiding. Actually it looks like the police are looking for her. She should be in the South of France by now, so there’s no reason to worry.
A weary-looking detective keeps in touch with the parents. There’s not a lot they can do, looking for a woman who is of age and has called in to tell them she’s okay…There are more pressing cases, but at some point, there might be a ping on the radar, an international law enforcement effort. I check in with Nick, but there’s nothing new, regarding Hanks or Penelope.
I steal away to have lunch by myself in a nearby bistro, needing to escape the phone and computer for a moment. On my way back, I’m passing by a sheet of paper taped to a store window, flinching at the picture.
Surrender Your Heart Page 12
