Joanne Rock

Under Wraps


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what happened over at Premiere Properties after she’d been terminated six months ago for bogus reasons. Her boss, Vince Galway, had told her some b.s. about cutting back on promotions, but the company spent money hand over fist to promote its luxury resorts. Still, she had to admit she was curious. “What makes you think that?”

      “Nothing concrete.” Sarah sighed, a world of stress in one eloquent huff of air over the mouthpiece. “But there’s been a guy asking questions this week. He’s been discreet enough, saying he’s part of some forensic accounting team that Vince hired to double-check the books, but I think something’s up.”

      For the first time in six months, Marnie almost felt lucky to have lost the job she loved at Premiere. Her business was taking off, and she didn’t have any worries about corporate scams or office politics.

      “I’ll keep an ear out since I still do business with a lot of Premiere’s hotels.” In fact, Marnie had sent more than one client to the properties she used to promote. Although she didn’t think it had been fair that she’d been axed with no warning, she still recognized Premiere ran first-class resorts.

      “Thanks, Marnie. I’d appreciate any word.”

      Disconnecting the call, Marnie cranked the tunes back up, ready to get back into celebrating her successes. She’d dealt with enough crap these past six months to know that she damn well needed to toast the good stuff when it came along since life didn’t give you happy days like this all that often.

      Standing in front of the custom-made bookcase that displayed miniature buildings, crafts and other souvenirs from destinations all over the world, she placed her palms where Jake Brennan’s broad hands had once been and ran her fingertips over a smooth edge. He’d done a beautiful job on the piece and he’d done it for a song, all things considered. She’d really needed that financial break since she’d been trying to get the doors open for her business on a budget.

      Between the memories of the man, the champagne and the swish of silk around her bare legs, she experienced a rush of longing. Jake had been big-time attractive. Too bad she hadn’t been in a better place emotionally when they’d met or she might have invited him to stick around after the job was done. Maybe asked him out for a drink.

      Or—in her wilder fantasies—simply peeled off all her clothes and plastered herself to that gorgeous body of his.

      Walking her fingers across a shelf, Marnie blew a kiss to a model of the Egyptian sphinx on one side of the case and winked at a tiny replica of Michelangelo’s David. She had to freshen her flirting skills sometime, didn’t she? One day, she’d get back out in the dating world again.

      Retrieving her champagne glass, she knocked over an iron Statue of Liberty nearby. As she moved to straighten it, she noticed a smear on the back of the case—a dark spot that didn’t belong. Unwilling to suffer a smudge in an otherwise perfect display, she reached past the travel guides and mementos meant to entice her clients.

      But the spot felt smooth as glass—different than the rest of the wooden cabinet.

      “That’s odd.” Shoving aside a few more famous buildings for a better look, Marnie peered into a small circle of smoky glass.

      Her champagne flute fell from her fingers and shattered on the floor. The electric thrill pulsing through her over her good payday fizzled to nothing, even though the bass from an old club tune still pumped through the speakers.

      Because at the center of that smoky glass rested a tiny camera lens. Someone had been watching her.

      And given the way the gadgetry had been so perfectly incorporated into her custom-built cabinet, she only had one guess as to who that might be. After what she’d gone through with her ex-boyfriend, the next guy who crossed her would be wise to run for cover.

      And right now, it looked like that man was none other than her sexy contractor.

      Jake Brennan.

      MUSIC PULSED FROM INSIDE the Lose Yourself storefront facade until it sounded more like a raucous bar than a ritzy travel agency specializing in exotic adventures. If Jake Brennan hadn’t known Marnie so well, he might have turned around and come back another day, thinking she had company.

      But weeks’ worth of video surveillance on her fledgling business had not only taken her off his primary suspect list in a major white-collar crime. It had also taught Jake that Marnie liked to dance. And damn, but her shimmy-shake routine while stripping off her jacket and blouse hadn’t disappointed.

      He would have closed his eyes if she’d ditched more than that. Honestly, he would have. But he’d wanted to be sure she was alone before he went to the door. Could he help it if she had a habit of peeling off work clothes in favor of a silk lounging robe the second she shut her door for the day?

      Rapping on the door through the hole in the middle of a fat green holiday wreath, he grinned at the memory of old surveillance footage and the brief, two-minute snippet he’d allowed himself back in the car—just enough to see her whip off the clothes and grab the champagne. He’d made sure to only point the cameras toward her work space for legal reasons, even though she’d had plans to live in the back offices. That had eased his conscience somewhat since he hated the idea of spying on anyone who was innocent—especially in their most private moments. But at the time he’d installed the camera he now sought to remove, Jake had very good reason to think she was anything but innocent.

      Inside Lose Yourself, the volume of the music decreased. The quiet of the business district on a Friday night surrounded him and he couldn’t help a rush of anticipation at seeing Marnie now that he’d all but cleared her.

      “Who is it?” came her voice, sweetly familiar to him after scanning hours of video for evidence in his case.

      Yes, he’d gotten to know Marnie Wainwright so damn well that just hearing her voice had him salivating like Pavlov’s dog. And that happened even though he’d forced himself to shut off the video feed on those few occasions where she’d started to strip off a little more than a stranger had the right to see.

      “It’s Jake Brennan,” he called through the door. “I did some work on your office a couple of months ago and I think I might have left one of my tools behind.”

      He knew she’d remember him from his brief stint working there. He’d given her a steal on his labor, mostly because his work was entirely self-serving.

      Plus, she’d eyeballed him enough that day to make him think she hadn’t been oblivious to his presence in her office. If it hadn’t been for his suspicions of her back then, he would have asked her out.

      Now that he was going to retrieve the surveillance equipment and declare this part of his case finished, Jake looked forward to seeing her again without his work as a barrier.

      Inside, he could hear her slide a dead bolt and flip one other lock open. He could picture it perfectly since he knew the inside of that office like the back of his hand from watching Marnie run her business day in and day out. Other than the brief view he’d allowed himself in the car, however, he hadn’t reviewed any tapes in a while. Not since his case had led him in another direction.

      Slowly, the door creaked open.

      A whisper of black silk fluttered through the crack. She’d left the final latch on the door—a long hook like the kind used on hotel rooms—so she could see into the street without leaving herself vulnerable.

      Recognizing the black silk as the calf-length, sexy number she liked to wear around the place before bed, he swallowed hard, knowing damn well she wasn’t wearing much else.

      “Sorry to bother you so late—”

      The expression on her face froze him in his shoes. Pursed lips, a clamped-tight jaw and gray eyes staring daggers at him all suggested he’d interrupted something. Had she been arguing with someone on the phone? Protective instincts flared to life.

      “Is everything okay in there?” He stepped closer, trying to look past her into the familiar office interior that he’d seen