by Joanne Rock
“I agree that it would be in my best interest to figure out who this person is before he targets me all over again.” Marnie stalked toward her work computer and sat down at the screen. At first, she simply squeezed her temples, as if she wanted to rub out all the worries in her head. Then, she peered up at him with new determination in her eyes. “Since I have this bastard to thank for putting me under suspicion and exposing me to a stranger, it would be worth the time off if I could help put him behind bars.”
Surprise, surprise.
She was going to agree to this without a fight. But she didn’t look happy about it. Figuring it would be in poor form to break out the victory dance while she was so clearly upset, he concentrated on all the plans he needed to make for this new strategy to work.
Jake watched her click through some keys to pull up a web page for a genteel-looking inn with wide white columns and a long veranda. Four stone chimneys dotted the roof. It could have been out of Gone with the Wind except for the fact that the place was surrounded by snow and decked with holiday evergreens. A cobalt-colored front door was the only feature of the building that didn’t fit with the classic Georgian architecture.
“You’ll get us into the Marquis?”
“Damn straight,” she muttered, clicking a code into the system that activated a reservation form he assumed wasn’t available to the general public. The photo of the Marquis didn’t even have a sign out front, though a caption under the photo gave an address in upstate New York. “I’ve gone through hell the past six months because of this. I had to move out of my house and into a room in the back of the business to protect my credit after I lost my job. My savings. All this time, I thought I’d done something wrong to make Vince question my capabilities, when in fact I just had an enemy I didn’t know about. An enemy who made me look like a criminal.”
He heard the hurt in her voice. Felt for her situation.
“Can you be ready to leave tomorrow?”
“Are you kidding?” She turned frosty eyes on him. “Someone wants me behind bars. And whoever it is, I have that person to thank for losing a great job at the worst possible time. So I can have my car gassed up and ready to head north in an hour.”
Surprised at her new level of commitment to the plan, he wondered if she had any idea how close they’d have to be throughout this trip.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for a flight out in the morning?”
“Tomorrow is a Saturday. We’ll be lucky to find an afternoon flight, let alone something in the morning.” She went back to her computer keys and started filling out information for the exclusive resort. “Besides, I won’t be able to get any sleep with this hanging over my head.”
Twenty-plus hours on the road with Marnie? His agenda shifted to accommodate the prospect.
“Fine, but you need to give an assumed name for check-in purposes, just in case the embezzler is someone who works on-site. We can pick up a wig or something on the way up.”
She nodded, lips pursed in a tight line.
“Plus, I want to take my SUV and we can spot each other in the driver’s seat so we can go straight through the night and into the day tomorrow.” Before she could protest, he added, “I’ve got four-wheel drive and it looks like we’ll need it where we’re going.”
“Fair enough.” She frowned as she paused her typing. “You can fill me in on how you think it’s going to be any safer for me there than here since—assuming you’re correct about where the embezzlement originated—we’ll be walking right into enemy terrain.”
“Easy.” He dug his keys out of his pocket. “You’ll be in disguise and hidden away in the room as much as possible. More importantly, you’ll be with me.”
She bit her lip but kept right on with the data entry thing, flipping to a new screen.
“And don’t forget,” he reminded her as he headed for the door. “We’ll need to stick together both for appearance’s sake and for safety purposes, so—only one room.”
At last, her typing fingers slowed. Stopped. He hadn’t expected to get that one past her.
“Is your client springing for the expense of this trip?” she asked, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.
“Yes. But while I’m sure he could afford two rooms—”
“That’s not necessary.” She went back to the keyboard, a golden brown lock of her hair sliding off her shoulder to frame her cheek. “I’ll get one room, but it’s going to be the biggest damn suite in the place. Vincent Galway and Premiere Properties owe me that much.”
IT WASN’T EXACTLY the kind of fantasy escape she tried to sell to her upscale clientele.
Even reclining in the leather passenger seat of Jake’s full-size SUV, Marnie didn’t think a twenty-five-hour car ride counted as decadent and indulgent. But at least—twelve hours into it—they were making excellent headway. Jake had shaved off some serious time overnight by tearing through Georgia and the Carolinas like a bat out of hell. Easy to do when traffic was so light. No one wanted to head north in the winter, except for a few die-hard skiers.
“You don’t think you could sleep if you leaned back the rest of the way?” Jake peered over at her from the driver’s side, his shades hiding his eyes now that the morning sun was well over the horizon.
He’d turned out to be a decent travel companion. He’d stocked up on bottled water prior to the trip and kept her cup holder stocked. Periodically, he pointed out rest areas and asked if she wanted to stop. Best of all, he’d given her control of the radio stations. Considering he had spied on her and played her for a fool by pretending he was a cute contractor instead of a dangerously deceptive P.I., Jake was turning out to be an okay guy.
She would have felt more comfortable around him, however, if she wasn’t still highly attracted.
“I can’t sleep when I’m wound up,” she told him finally. “Doesn’t matter if I’ve got the world’s best accommodations and total silence. If I’m upset, nothing short of an animal tranquilizer would help me close my eyes.”
“That explains a few late-night dart-throwing sessions.” He changed lanes to avoid a semitruck trying to merge into traffic.
All around them, the lush greenery had faded, leaving them in a brown and gray barren part of the country. No snow yet, but the temperature had dropped a good twenty-five degrees.
“You know, I don’t think it’s fair that you’ve got all kinds of inside dirt on me and I don’t know much of anything about you.”
Maybe her attraction would lessen as she got to know him better. Real life had a way of dousing the best fantasies. Besides, talking about his world would keep her from picturing him watching her dance around her office in her skivvies at midnight when she realized she’d left some notes out front that she wanted to work on.
The thought of him keeping tabs on her all that time sent a fresh wave of awareness through her. She so could not let herself start thinking he was an okay guy, damn it. She needed to help him with his investigation—find out who wanted to frame her—and get back to rebuilding her life.
“You want the life story?” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with a staccato beat that smacked of impatience.
Too bad. She was only too happy to turn the tables on him. Let him see how it felt to be the one under the microscope.
“A few highlights would be nice.”
“I’m a Midwestern farm boy turned Marine. I liked it a little too well. After my last tour was up, I figured I’d put the skills to use and became a cop.”
The life story was decidedly condensed.
“What brought you to Miami?” It seemed more appropriate than asking him how many women he’d spied on while they undressed.
“More varied and interesting crime.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t quite sure what that said about his psyche, but she could respect the desire to utilize his skills.
“I’m good at my job. Rather, I was good at the job before I quit the force. At the time I figured I might as well challenge mys
elf.” He downshifted for construction work ahead and then tapped the windshield lightly; on the other side, snow had begun to fall. “And you can’t beat the weather.”
“Tell me about it. I have a coat from my trips to ski destinations, but since I usually scheduled those in the off season, I’ve hardly ever worn it.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the topic of wardrobes came up. “The resort we’re headed to has extensive shopping facilities if you need anything, by the way. We’ll have to buy some clothes for the parties.”
Up ahead, traffic condensed into three lanes as they left Washington, D.C., in the distance. The snow was falling faster and Jake switched on the wipers.
“I brought a suit,” he assured her, clicking a button for the defrosters. “I should be fine.”
“Actually—” She adjusted a fleece blanket on her lap that he’d brought in case either of them wanted to sleep on the way. But even if she could have talked herself into sleeping, she was a little afraid that the man was so much on her mind she might end up moaning his name during a sexy dream or something equally embarrassing. Between Jake and their unconventional destination, she was having a hard time keeping her thoughts on the straight and narrow. “This resort caters to a very particular clientele. The name Marquis is a nod to the underground gentlemen’s clubs that served British aristocrats in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Guests are expected to uphold the fantasy element of the experience, so we’ll have no choice but to dress like the natives.”
He cut a quick glance her way, eyes full of skepticism.
“I hope you’re messing with me.”
“I wholeheartedly wish that I was,” she answered, envisioning herself stuck in layers of petticoats with a bustle and corset.
“What kind of hotel imposes a dress code?”
“First of all, this is not your normal hotel. It’s a privately owned club—more like an elegant country house that offers exclusive invitations. Second, the period costumes aren’t mandatory. But if we don’t play the game, it would be like wandering around a nudist colony in a tux. You don’t want to stick out at the resort if you’re there to question people and track down information.”
“I’m not wearing a sissy-boy collar up to my chin with a two-mile necktie.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s called a cravat.” And it would be a far cry from the blue dress shirt he wore with a worn-in white T-shirt underneath.
Though she was pretty sure he would look as mouthwatering in one as the other. Her gaze darted over his broad shoulders. Everything about him broadcast power. Strength. Hotness.
“Whatever.”
“The good news is that I recall a lot of functions that call for masks of one sort or another. That will help me mingle more since there will be very little chance of being recognized that way.”
In the pocket of her trench coat, her cell phone vibrated with an incoming message. Checking it, she saw a note from the management at their destination.
“It’s a confirmation for our reservation. They want us to know that we’ll miss the main seating for dinner and that they’ll serve us in our room.” She scrolled down the screen, not ready to think about sharing a bedroom with the man in the driver’s seat. The suite contained a queen-size bed plus a trundle; apparently pullout sofas weren’t period-accurate for their furnishings. The trundle thing had always struck her as amusing since they so obviously weren’t meant for people bringing kids to the hotel. Apparently a trundle was the Marquis’s comfortable answer to a threesome sleeping arrangement.
But in their case, it meant Jake would be sleeping only a few feet away from her, even in the biggest room available.
How awkward would that be to go from throwing darts at him to bedding down with him in a thirty-hour span? A quick shiver chased down her spine.
“Sounds good. I won’t be ready to face a bunch of role-playing swingers the moment we step into the place anyhow.”
“Although—” her thumb hovered over the scroll key on her phone “—we are invited to the evening entertainment that starts at eleven.”
“Should I be afraid to ask?” He cruised past signs for Baltimore as the snow coated the landscape.
A few cars with Christmas trees tied to their roofs passed, the sight a little surreal during this conversation about private sex clubs and role-playing naughty aristocrats.
“Apparently it’s a vignette called The French Maid.” Jamming the phone into an open compartment on the door of the SUV, Marnie didn’t want to think about it anymore, let alone discuss the nature of the club with Jake.
“You’ve been there before. What are the entertainments like?”
“I—” Her cheeks heated at an old memory. “I don’t consider myself overly uptight, but I couldn’t sit through the only one I ever started to watch.”
“You’re blushing?” He sounded far too amused.
“How would you possibly know that if your eyes were on the road?” The air in the SUV’s interior felt warm and heavy—too intimate by half.
She shoved the blanket from her lap and tossed it in the backseat.
“Details, please.”
Retrieving her bottle of water from the cup holder, she took a long swig, partially to delay. Partially to cool off.
“It was that good?” he prodded, all too aware of her discomfort.
“No. I don’t know.” It would be important to prepare for their stay, to steel herself against whatever wayward thoughts the place inspired. “It was more elegant than I imagined it would be. More of a peep show exhibition than anything overt.”
“You ran because it was a turn-on.”
“I didn’t run. I left because it felt icky to share a steamy moment with a room full of strangers.”
“How was it any different than watching a movie at the theater?”
She pointed toward the sign for 95 North where the interstate divided.
“There’s more anonymity in a theater somehow with the chairs all facing one direction. Plus, that’s a movie. This had real live people acting it out in front of us and the show was nowhere near PG-13. The entertainment at the Marquis felt more…communal.”
Now Jake reached for his water bottle and chugged it faster than she had.
“Maybe this isn’t the best topic for someone who needs to drive for ten more hours, after all.” He replaced the water and cracked the window.
Had she been aware of him before? Now she could practically feel the warmth of his exhalations across the console between them.
“You asked,” she reminded him.
“And with good reason. The more I know about this place, the better.” He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt even though the neck was open. “But for now, maybe we shouldn’t dwell on the gratuitous nudity.”
“I never said anything about nudity.”
“And you see where my mind went anyhow? Moving on.” He cleared his throat and straightened a pant leg at the knee. “Did you bring anyone to that show with you? A work colleague, friend, boyfriend?”
“As a rule, I don’t mix business with pleasure and I always traveled alone in my work for Premiere.”
“You should make a list of everyone you remember from that last trip—anyone from management to waitstaff who stands out in your memory, anyone you came in contact with who worked there.”
“Okay.” Grabbing her phone, she slid open the keypad to type some notes.
“I’ll have you email it to my office and we’ll run some background checks to see if anything unusual comes up.”
“We should do that before we arrive. Did I mention there’s no wireless on-site? Or phones, either. Well, you can have a phone, but if they see you with one in any of the common rooms, they hold it until your departure date. You have to agree to that in a waiver when you check in.”
“For a luxury resort, it’s damn restrictive, isn’t it? Although I’m sure that’s what makes it all the easier to commit a crime from a place like that. Less eyes watching your every move.
”
“On the contrary, there are eyes everywhere. They’re just more focused on erogenous zones than technology.”
He slid another sideways glance at her and she felt it shiver over her skin as surely as if he’d touched her.
“I’m beginning to think the surroundings are going to prove a hell of a distraction.”
No. The biggest distraction would be Jake himself—but she didn’t want to put that into words when she needed to be building barriers against him instead of demolishing them.
“As long as we focus on finding a crook, we’ll be fine.” Some anonymous scumbag had cost her a lucrative living and tried to have her jailed for a crime she hadn’t committed. The sooner she found out who, the easier she’d sleep.
“Or…” He rubbed a hand over his jaw like a man in deep thought. “Instead of ignoring the obvious, we could act on it.”
She blinked, not sure she’d understood.
“Excuse me?”
“Part of the problem is not knowing how we’re going to deal with the inevitable sexual chemistry once we’re bumping up against each other day and night in a small space.” He got into the left lane and slowed down as an exit approached.
“I think it’s imperative we ignore that in a working relationship.” She hadn’t been kidding about not mixing business with pleasure.
“It’d be easier to ignore if we confronted the chemistry, tested the wattage and found out it was just some idle urge, wouldn’t it?” Getting off the exit, he darted into a coffee shop parking lot.
Next thing she knew, the SUV was in Park and Jake Brennan had his seat belt off. He reached over to pop hers open with a click, as well.
When his knuckles grazed her hip, she knew this wasn’t a routine java run. He’d pulled the car over with a clear purpose that he communicated through a hot perusal of her body, from thighs to hips, belly to breasts.
“That’s a ludicrous idea.” Mostly because she had the feeling that “testing” any chemistry would uncover a wellspring so hot it would take days to tamp it back down.
