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Dangerous Obsession

Page 8

by Jessica R. Patch


  She knocked quietly. “Wilder,” she murmured. Pushing the door open, she entered the foyer and inhaled the scents. Masculine. Something spicy and sweet. It felt like a safe haven. Oddly, like home. In a way she’d never felt home before. How was that possible? Tiptoeing on, she entered a massive open living room and kitchen, but none of the decor caught her eye. Not when Wilder Flynn sat at a sleek, black, baby grand, playing each note with his own fingers.

  Wilder played piano? Not just tinkered, but played masterfully.

  Dazed, she watched his fingers travel furiously across the keys, bringing this story to life. She crept closer until she stood directly behind him.

  This man who knew everything didn’t seem to know she was here at all.

  She was infringing on his privacy. His moment. But she couldn’t pry herself away.

  His thick hair hung over his closed eyes and the scruff on his jaw had thickened during the late-night hours. He wore a simple white T-shirt stretched over the sleek muscles of his back and arms, which moved fluidly as his fingers sped up and down the keys. Gray sweats covered his powerful legs, and he pressed the pedal with bare feet. A fresh shower scent dizzied her senses.

  The melody slowed, softer...softer...until it came to a close. He remained still, breathing.

  Cosette didn’t dare move.

  Finally, he whispered, “Come sit with me, Cosette.”

  “You knew I was here?” She rounded the piano bench and sat beside him.

  “I’ve left the door open every night since you moved back in.” His eyes met hers, arrested them. His husky voice wrapped around her like ribbons made of silk. “In case you were afraid to be alone. In case you needed me.”

  She didn’t want to need him. Not for anything but CCM’s security. She’d been fighting it daily. If he wouldn’t open up to her professionally, he’d never open up to her personally. He was everything she thought she wanted and everything she was sure she didn’t.

  His expression was vulnerable. She should tell him what had brought her downstairs, but she couldn’t force herself to do it. Not now. Not in this moment. This moment where the air swam thick and warm, filling all the emptiness and cold in her bones with a gentle warmth that tingled to her toes and dared her to linger, to bask in it.

  This man was beautiful. Complex. Woven together like a spider’s web. If she kept holding his gaze, he’d have her trapped in it. No way out. How could he do this—settle her nerves without speaking? Calm her fears with a look. But what was behind those intense green eyes? She would never know his secrets. His fears. Maybe he feared nothing. No one.

  “I didn’t know you played,” she murmured.

  “Surprise,” he softly teased. Could she be wrong about him opening up? If he didn’t want to reveal this intimate truth about himself, he wouldn’t have been playing. Wouldn’t have left his door open. Was it a metaphor? Was he ready to open up to her, and if he did, what would that do to her? Could she continue to keep the guard up around her heart? Even now it was turning to rubble.

  She searched his face, hoping to find the answer. Slowly, she reached up, paused—she’d seen him stop Macy from running her hand through his hair. But he didn’t move. Cosette’s pulse raced as she slid his hair from his eyes. It was every bit as silky and thick as she knew it would be, starting a loop-de-loop in her belly.

  He didn’t reject her. Didn’t seem to mind her exploring the ebony strands, and she couldn’t help herself. He laid his hand on her knee, stroked it with his thumb, but said nothing.

  She swallowed hard. Blinked.

  “Wilder,” she rasped.

  He inched toward her. Stealthy. Slow. Holding her gaze captive. Not asking permission, but letting her know his intent.

  She couldn’t stop it.

  Wouldn’t.

  His lips feathered against hers and parted, hovering. His spearmint breath tickled and teased her mouth. “Do you want me to kiss you, Cosette?” His nose nuzzled against hers like a wisp of wind.

  Her hands trembled.

  Her stomach dipped and knotted.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Grasping her waist, Wilder slid her across the bench until her leg brushed his, his lips never leaving hers, but never fully touching them, either. He caressed her cheek with his hand, searched her eyes, and mixed with longing, she spotted hesitation in his.

  Enough that she grasped reality. For once she was standing on her own two feet. Wasn’t this her past MO when feeling lonely or afraid...running to a man? This wouldn’t end with a happily-ever-after. This was all hyped up emotion on both their parts. She’d needed comfort.

  Who knew what he needed? He would never say.

  “Wilder?”

  “Hmm...” His fingers skimmed her jawline as his mouth fully met hers, lost in this tender moment.

  Cosette pulled away before it became more intimate, before she lost all reason. “This isn’t right.” Even if nothing had felt more right in ages. “You’re emotional from playing and I’m...I’m...” Falling into old ways. She could kick herself. “Open up to me. Let’s talk this musical score out.”

  In an instant, he masked the transparency and dropped his hands. Stood from the piano. “I’m sorry. I’m your boss. And that was out of line. Not right, like you said. I’m not emotional. I’m a good pianist. I made you emotional.” Frustration and a hint of anger laced his words.

  “Nothing wrong with emotions, Wilder. I don’t understand what you’re afraid of. Why you won’t just talk to me professionally. Personally, even. Are we not friends?”

  He licked his lips, huffed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what we are, Cosette.”

  That was a heavy blow. “I thought we were friends. Coworkers.”

  “I’m your boss. I don’t date my people.”

  “You don’t date anyone. Why? What if that beginning of a kiss had progressed? What would that have meant?” By George, she’d make him talk.

  He heaved a sigh and turned his back on her, raked his hands once again through his hair, then spun around. “You came here for a reason. What was it?”

  The coldness of his voice confirmed her decision to back away emotionally. He didn’t get his way; now he was angry. Typical behavior of someone who felt entitled, who felt ownership over someone. If that’s how he wanted to play it, okay. But she couldn’t hide the disappointment and the nagging feeling that she was projecting more negative behavior onto Wilder than he was guilty of in order to protect herself. “I got an email. From you.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t send you an email.”

  “I know that now. Looks like someone hacked your email address or something. It’s on my laptop. Upstairs.”

  Where terror reigned.

  And hope was lost.

  “Once again, Jeffrey’s been in my home.”

  Wilder was in her heart.

  She wanted neither man in either place.

  FIVE

  Wilder brooded in his office. Last night had been a debacle. He’d slipped over the edge. Had lied. Granted, he had been emotional. Torn. Macy showing up with Renny had dragged up everything from the mission that had gone horribly wrong. The fact that Cosette had a stalker kept Meghan and her death front and center. And his feelings for Cosette had been unleashed in that song.

  She nagged the mess out of him to open up and whined that he didn’t. Well, she was wrong. He did work through his feelings. Through the piano. He emptied them all out with every note.

  What was he going to do about her? What would that kiss have meant? she’d asked. That was the million-dollar question. If he allowed himself to fall headlong into Cosette, he would never recover. Never have any control. She made his head dizzy already.

  But that touch last night...

  She’d touched him hundreds of times.

  But it never felt l
ike that.

  Like her hands were meant to slide through his hair, bringing comfort and hope. And a word he refused to bring to his tongue.

  In that moment with her right next to him, needing him...his heart had reached out for her. Touching his lips, he sighed. She’d pulled away and rightly so, but he didn’t expect it to power through him like a shotgun shell, buckshot spraying every artery, every muscle, shattering him.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give her everything he had.

  He couldn’t.

  Instead, he’d let his frustration at himself spill into his words like ice. He regretted that. Needed to apologize. The email and video she’d been sent had taken precedence. After watching it, he’d called the police and met them at the apartment. Cosette didn’t notice anything new missing since the last break-in except for the jewelry box. Police fingerprinted the place and took a report. It was nearly three fifteen this morning when they’d made it back to CCM.

  His phone rang.

  Teddy.

  “What’dya got for me?” he said.

  “You want the bad news or the bad news?” she asked.

  “Mmm...how about the bad news?”

  “That’s what I thought. Jeffrey Levitts took a medical leave of absence six weeks ago. He’s not scheduled to return until July.”

  Wilder’s stomach knotted.

  Teddy continued. “I used my womanly ways and found out he had surgery on his rotator cuff, but the interesting news is that he’s not recuperating at home. No one has been in or out of it. I’d know because I’ve been watching.”

  “Did you happen to get disoriented and find yourself where you didn’t belong?” Wilder asked.

  “You know...I did.” A smile coated her words. “The guy hasn’t gotten over Cosette. There are framed pictures of her and the two of them together all over his place, and a section of his closet is empty, like her stuff was gone or he packed a bunch of clothing. All that hung in that little sparse section was a ladies’ robe and a pair of house shoes on the floor.”

  Wilder’s veins ran green. Cosette never said she’d had that kind of relationship with him. He grabbed his tension ball and squeezed until it hurt. “Anything else?”

  “Unfortunately, no. There is no evidence of where he might be traveling or recovering. He has one social media site, but it’s set to private. I can make some calls. Do more searching.”

  Wilder basically had all he needed. “Thanks, Teddy. I’ll let you know.” He hung up as his office door opened. Evan Novak entered. Wilder had given him and Wheezer the email Cosette had been sent. If anyone could trace it, it would be Wheezer and Evan—both cyber geniuses. Evan had taken down dozens of criminal cyber rings while working with the Secret Service.

  “I would like to give you good news,” he said.

  “Why bother?” Wilder groused. “No one else is.”

  Evan’s brow inched upward a fraction. “Remember when I was framed?”

  “Five months ago? I don’t have dementia, Evan.” Wilder tossed his tension ball across the room. It smacked the wall and landed on the floor with a thud. “Sorry. I’m just...” What? It felt like someone had cranked a windup toy and turned it on inside him.

  Evan grabbed the ball and tossed it to him. “Maybe squeeze on this and throw a baseball. But not at the wall. Which reminds me. Painters are finally on the east side of the house. Should be done day after tomorrow.”

  Wilder smirked. “Sorry.” Guess he’d be saying that a lot in the future. “What does you being framed have to do with Cosette’s email?”

  “Whoever sent that bogus text to Jody used the same software to make it look like you emailed Cosette. They must have known she’d never open an anonymous email. Also, it sent a virus to the computer, which means they have access to her information and photos—or did. I handled it.”

  Wilder groaned. “I hate that software.” Would Jeffrey Levitts know about anonymous free software that could be downloaded off the internet and used to browse dark websites and hack systems? The average American wouldn’t. But if he was into dark stuff, which he probably was, then he might have found it. “Hate. It.”

  “Not more than me, man.”

  Someone had framed Evan for tipping off gun dealers about a sting he was in charge of, and then used it to put out a hit on him. He’d been on the run with Jody and both of them had nearly been killed.

  “Probably not.” Wilder squeezed the tension ball, then laid it on the desk. “Something else is bothering me. Muffins.”

  A divot formed along Evan’s brow. “Muffins?”

  “Blueberry.” Wilder rubbed his chin. Cosette had called it an accident, and maybe it was, but his gut kept pressing him about it.

  Cosette knocked and entered. Face all professional. Not a hint of warmth. He’d done that. Hurt her.

  “Wilder’s troubled by blueberry muffins and I have an appointment with the CEO at Mill & Dunn Manufacturing. He’s beefing up security so I can’t stay and help right now.” Evan patted Cosette’s shoulder. “But even if I could, there’s no way to trace who sent the video. Sorry.”

  Cosette’s nose twitched. “Thanks, anyway. If the CEO is wary of employee threats, call me. I can come out and go through files. Do a threat assessment for them.” She turned to the door. “And can I get a ride to the clinic?”

  He glanced at Wilder, uncertainty in his eyes. Yes, they’d had a little rumble. Evan turned back to Cosette. “Sure.”

  “I’ll take you,” Wilder said. Was she now going to try avoiding him? Not happening. He was still responsible for her safety.

  Evan glanced between the two of them and landed his gaze on the tension ball. “You’re gonna need a bigger ball.” With that he shut the door, leaving them alone.

  “Evan is capable of dropping me at the clinic.”

  Wilder ignored her statement and studied her. There were dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t slept last night. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just let someone else drive me to work.” She frowned.

  “Not for that. I’m sorry about last night. For the way I acted. I wasn’t mad because you pulled away from a kiss. I’m relieved you did.” Relieved because he could keep better control now. Stay focused. Keep his secrets buried.

  “Relieved?” Pursed lips and a flash of heat in her eyes met him with full force.

  “I mean...” He raked a hand through his hair, only reminding himself of when Cosette had run hers through it. “You didn’t come to my apartment for that. You were frightened. I should have reacted better. Stopped playing the second I heard you come in. Let you stay the night, bunked on the couch so you could get a good night’s rest.”

  “Let’s just forget it and chalk it up to emotions running high. We’re professionals. I work for you, like you said.”

  Another reason to keep a distance. If things went south in a romantic relationship, he’d lose the best behavioral expert he’d ever worked with. Not to mention Cosette was about to embark on a new leg of her profession with the equine therapy. How would that work if things didn’t pan out between them? Questions that didn’t need answering. There was no them and never would be.

  But there had been a her and Jeffrey.

  “I heard back from Teddy.”

  “And?”

  He gave her the rundown on Jeffrey’s surgery and medical leave. “She found photos of the two of you.” It killed him to think about the robe and house shoes. “Did he give you back any personal belongings that you might have left over there?”

  Cosette inhaled. “No...but I don’t remember leaving anything there. A coffee cup maybe. Why?”

  “She found your robe still hanging in the closet and your house shoes in there, too.” He watched for a reaction.

  He got one.

  Cosette slammed her hands on his desk and leaned forward, f
ury in her eyes. The Cajun in her just came out like claws on a mad cat.

  “What are you implying, Wilder Flynn?”

  “I’m observing facts,” he said quietly.

  Her brown eyes were like an angry bull’s. “You’re jumping to conclusions. How dare you! Those aren’t mine. Do you know me at all?” She spun and hauled it to the door, but he grabbed her arm.

  “I do know you.”

  Her chin jutted out. “But it never crossed your mind that those items might belong to another woman.”

  “Not when he has pictures of you and him around his home. I wouldn’t think another woman would approve. I know if we were together and you had pictures of exes, I’d have a come-apart.” He tried to lighten the mood, but he missed the humorous mark.

  Cosette didn’t even crack a smile. “I wouldn’t be so uncaring. But conversation over come-apart is key to relationships. I’ve had exes who operated in the latter. Too many. Too often. I’m done with that kind of relationship.”

  Target marked.

  Locked in.

  Engaged.

  Hit.

  She was comparing him to everyone else and he was clearly coming up just as short as they did. Wilder had been lumped into the loser pile. Maybe she didn’t know him.

  Grinding his jaw, he said, “I’ll drive you to work.”

  “I’m riding with Jody. If Evan’s here, Jody’s here. I need to ride with her, Wilder.”

  Fine. She needed breathing room after last night and his accusation just now, and Wilder needed some time to lick his wounds. She’d drawn blood. “Ride with Jody,” he murmured. “But before you go, you need to know that I don’t think you jump into physical relationships. I just...” What? Was so jealous he blurted out the worst? Needed to know the truth even if it shouldn’t have mattered? But she mattered to him. More than he could ever admit.

  “Observed facts.” She heaved a sigh and clutched the doorknob. “Thank you, though.”

 

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