was rubbing her temples, and she looked up at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. “I just don’t know what else they expect me to do.”
Her voice sounded so desolate, but then as if she’d released a deep, dark family secret, she straightened and walked toward him. “If you can just call me with your developments, that would be great. I just need to know for sure whom I met with and where that painting came from. As my father so eloquently stated, we’ll pay you whatever is necessary for a speedy turnaround.”
Was she dismissing him? Yes, she definitely was. Sam would have taken the hint if she hadn’t looked so sad and so sexy at the same time. So instead of turning to leave the office, he reached out and took her free hand.
“I’ll call you every day to let you know what I uncover.” She looked up at him, confusion and something just a little darker in her eyes. Sam moved closer until his chest pushed the folder she was clutching against her breasts. “In fact, I’ll call you twice a day, and you don’t have to pay extra for that service.”
Her nipples tingled and she stifled a groan. There was clothing between them and even that dammed folder, and still the heat from his body had mingled with hers, creating a fiery sphere around them. She inhaled deeply but the breath was ragged coming out, hitching on the huge swirl of sexual frustration mounting in the pit of her stomach.
God, she needed either a vibrator or a quickie right away. Before she did something clearly out of character and jumped Sam Desdune’s bones.
Chapter Four
“So how long have you known him and are you sleeping with him?”
Monica was never one to beat around the bush, Karena thought the moment she stepped into her office and into Monica’s barrage of questions.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, closing her office door behind her and praying none of the staff had been walking by and overheard.
“The P.I., Karena. How long have you known him?”
Monica sat in one of the guest chairs, her long legs crossed, arms resting on the sides.
Karena rounded her desk, dropped the folder then plopped down into her chair. “It’s been a really long day, Monica. I’m not in the mood for your interrogations.”
“Then you’d better get in the mood,” Monica said, glaring at Karena. “Because if Daddy finds out you hired him because you’re sleeping with him, he’s going to go ballistic. And if this man doesn’t figure out what the hell is going on with Leandro and that painting, we’re both going to be out of a job.”
“We’re heirs to the company, Monica. How can we be out of a job?”
“That’s a name on a piece of paper that rides on the fact that our father is still breathing.”
Karena groaned, letting her head rest on the back of her chair. “It is not that serious, Monica, really.”
“So you are sleeping with him,” she accused.
Don’t I wish. “No. I’m not sleeping with him. I met him a few months ago when I went to Maryland to visit a friend.”
“What friend? Oh, that girl who’s always getting herself into trouble.”
“Noelle’s not like that anymore. And this trouble she was in was serious, life-threatening serious. Sam and his partner helped her out.”
“Sounds like you need to get better friends.”
Karena was about to say something else when Monica held up a hand. “Don’t get all uptight. I’m just trying to keep a handle on all this.”
“D&D Investigations has a good reputation. I trust Sam to get to the bottom of this.” And she did. From what she knew of him so far, he was a good investigator and a good friend. She only hoped her traitorous body could keep it together long enough for him to do the job.
“Well, you know how men are, so just be careful working with him,” Monica quipped.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I work with men all the time and I don’t get this type of warning from you.”
“The other men you work with all the time don’t look at you like he was.”
Karena flicked her wrist in Monica’s direction as a way of dismissing her remark. “You’re starting to sound melodramatic, like Deena.”
“Oh, please, nobody is as melodramatic as Deena. I swear that girl lives in a world of her own.”
“Well, she is a writer,” Karena said in defense of their younger sister. Deena Lakefield was the free spirit of the family. Being cooped up behind a desk all day would have the same effect on her as kryptonite would on Superman, she thought with a smile.
“Deena doesn’t know what she is from one day to the next.” Monica stood. “Be that as it may, she’s our lost cause of a sister no matter what. You, on the other hand, are salvageable and I don’t want you getting your head all twisted over some man just because he looks good, smells good and watches you like you’re the only woman on earth.”
Her words had Karena sitting straight up in her chair. “He’s all that, huh?”
Monica was not amused, although the corner of her mouth did lift in a smile. “He’s not bad to look at, but you know my philosophy on men—especially good-looking men.”
Yeah, Karena knew, and it was a damned shame. How a woman as strong as Monica could let one man tear her down and destroy her faith in the entire species was beyond her. “He’s working for the company, Monica. That’s all.”
“Mmm-hmm,” was her response as she walked out of the office.
“He’s working for the company,” Karena repeated once more when she was alone.
He’s working for the company…so why am I am thinking of his strong arms and how they’d feel wrapped tightly around me?
He should have gone back to Connecticut immediately after leaving her office. Bree was there; he’d already called and briefed her on the situation. She would be working on it until it was time for her to leave for the day. Sam could go back to the office and help her or he could go home. Yet, it was almost six-thirty in the evening and he was still in Manhattan.
After leaving Lakefield Galleries he’d stopped at the library, using the Internet to retrieve a list of all art galleries in Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs. He wanted to know which ones were showing Leandro’s work and which ones were trying to get more information on the man.
In the past few hours he’d visited six galleries, three of which had pieces of Leandro’s on display, two that were negotiating to buy pieces and one that had tried valiantly to get in touch with Leandro’s agent with no success.
Now Sam found himself turning into the same parking garage he’d been in earlier, heading back to Lakefield Galleries.
“Hi, we don’t have a showing tonight so I’m just about to lock up,” the friendly receptionist whose name he now knew was Astrid told him.
“I was hoping to catch Ms. Lakefield,” he said. “Karena Lakefield,” he amended when she stepped behind the desk and looked down at her computer screen.
“She hasn’t logged off her computer yet so she’s probably still here.”
“Does she do that often?”
“Do what?”
“Work late,” he said, realizing he’d spoken aloud. He’d been thinking that a woman as fine as Karena should have an active social life. Invitations to parties and friends to hang out with should be taking up the majority of her time.
Oh, no, that was his ex-fiancée’s lifestyle he was thinking about. Leeza Purdy was the queen