“Look, you’re all flushed.”
He turned to get the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator, and she rolled her eyes at his back. Flushed? She was flushed? Couldn’t the man see she was a puddle just waiting to be lapped up?
He poured her a glass over ice, popped the top on a beer for himself. “We’ve done enough for one day. I’m thinking steaks on the grill. We’ll see if you can put a salad together. Hey.” He reached out to steady the glass he’d handed her. “Your hands are shaking. You’ve been overdoing it.”
“No, I…” She could hardly tell him she’d just given serious thought to biting his neck. Carefully she removed her glasses, folded them, set them on the table. “Maybe a little. There’s so much on my mind.”
“I’ve got the perfect antidote for overthinking.” He took her hand, pulled her to the door and outside, where the air was full of heat and the heady perfume of roses. “A half hour of lazy.”
He took her glass, set it on the little wrought-iron table beside the rope hammock, put his beer beside it. “Come on, we’ll watch the sky awhile.”
He wanted her to lie down with him? Lie down cupped with him in that hammock, while her insides were screaming for release? “I don’t think I should—”
“Sure you should.” To settle the matter, he gave her a yank and tumbled into the hammock with her. It rocked wildly, making him laugh as she scrambled for balance. “Just relax. This is one of my favorite spots. There’s been a hammock here as long as I can remember. My uncle used to nap in this red-and-white striped one when he was supposed to be puttering around the garden.”
He slid his arm under her, took one of her nervous hands in his. “Nice and cozy. You can see little pieces of sky through the leaves.”
It was cool there, shaded by the maples. She could feel his heart beating steadily when he laid their joined hands on his chest.
“I used to sneak over here a lot. Did a lot of dreaming and planning in this hammock. It was always peaceful over here, and when you were swinging in a hammock in the shade, nothing seemed all that urgent.”
“It’s like being in a cradle, I suppose.” She willed herself to relax, shocked to the core at how much she wanted to roll on top of him and dive in.
“Things are simpler in a hammock.” He toyed with her fingers, charmed by their grace and the glitter of rings. He kissed them absently and made her heart turn over in her chest. “Do you trust me, Bailey?”
At that moment, she was certain that, whatever her past, she’d never trusted anyone more. “Yes.”
“Let’s play a game.”
Her imagination whirled into several erotic corners. “Ah…a game?”
“Word association. You empty your mind, and I’ll say a word. Whatever pops into your head first, you say it.”
“Word association.” Unsure whether to laugh or scream, she closed her eyes. “You think it’ll jog my memory.”
“It can’t hurt, but let’s just think of it as a lazy game to play in the shade. Ready?”
She nodded, kept her eyes closed and let herself be lulled by the swing of the hammock. “All right.”
“City.”
“Crowded.”
“Desert.”
“Sun.”
“Work.”
“Satisfaction.”
“Fire.”
“Blue.”
When she opened her eyes, started to shift, he snuggled her closer. “No, don’t stop and analyze, just let it come. Ready? Love.”
“Friends.” She let out a breath, found herself relaxing again. “Friends,” she repeated.
“Family.”
“Mother.” She made a small sound, and he soothed it away.
“Happy.”
“Childhood.”
“Diamond.”
“Power.”
“Lightning.”
“Murder.” She let out a choked breath and turned to bury her face against his shoulder. “I can’t do this. I can’t look there.”
“Okay, it’s all right. That’s enough.” He stroked her hair, and though his hand was gentle, his eyes were hot as they stared up through the shady canopy of leaves.
Whoever had frightened her, made her tremble with terror, was going to pay.
While Cade held Bailey under the maple trees, another stood on a stone terrace overlooking a vast estate of rolling hills, tended gardens, jetting fountains.
He was furious.
The woman had dropped off the face of the earth with his property. And his forces were as scattered as the three stars.
It should have been simple. He’d all but had them in his hands. But the bumbling fool had panicked. Or perhaps had simply become too greedy. In either case, he’d let the woman escape, and the diamonds had gone with her.
Too much time had passed, he thought, tapping his small, beautifully manicured hand on the stone railing. One woman vanished, the other on the run, and the third unable to answer his questions.
It would have to be fixed, and fixed soon. The timetable was now destroyed. There was only one person to blame for that, he mused, and stepped back into his lofty office, picked up the phone.
“Bring him to me” was all he said. He replaced the receiver with the careless arrogance of a man used to having his orders obeyed.
Chapter 6
Saturday night. He took her dancing. She’d imagined hunkering down at the kitchen table with books and a pot of strong coffee as soon as dinner was over. Instead, he swept her out of the house, before she’d finished wiping off the counters, barely giving her enough time to run a brush through her hair.
She needed a distraction, he’d told her. She needed music. She needed to experience life.
It was certainly an experience.
She’d never seen anything like it. That she knew. The noisy, crowded club in the heart of Georgetown vibrated with life, shook from floor to ceiling with voices and busy feet. The music was so loud she couldn’t hear her own thoughts, and the stingy little table Cade managed to procure for them in the middle of it all was still sticky from the last patron’s pitcher of beer.
It astonished her.
Nobody seemed to know anyone else. Or they knew each other well enough to make love standing up in public. Surely the hot, wiggling moves done body against body on the tiny dance floor were nothing less than a mating ritual.
He bought her club soda, stuck to the same harmless drink himself, and watched the show. More, he watched her watch the show.
Lights flashed, voices echoed, and no one seemed to have a care in the world.
“Is this what you usually do on the weekend?” She had to shout into his ear, and she still wasn’t certain he would hear her over the crash and din of guitars and drums.
“Now and again.” Hardly ever, he thought, studying the ebb and flow of the tide of singles at the bar. Certainly not a great deal since his college days. The idea of bringing her here had been an impulse, even an inspiration, he thought. She could hardly brood and worry under these conditions. “It’s a local group.”
“I’ve been duped?” she repeated doubtfully.