Protecting His Interests Page 13

  “I’m sorry, Gabe, but I can’t just do whatever you say. Either I’m an active participant in the planning, or we don’t do this at all.”

  “What?”

  “I refuse to be led around by the nose anymore.” I marched down the hall to my room and fumbled with the key card.

  “I’m not leading you around—”

  “Yes, you are—and I’m sick of it.”

  “Scarlett—”

  “No.” I opened the door and turned to face him. “You’re just like Henri. Both of you like to tell me what to do.”

  “I don’t tell you what to do,” he said as he followed me into the room.

  “No?” I tossed the key card and my purse onto a nearby table.

  “Of course not.” He stood before me, tall and immobile like a wall. Under different circumstances I’d be intimidated, but not now. For far too long I had been living in other people’s shadows. I was tired of being told what to do.

  “You’re telling me that I need to trust that breaking in to that house is the best option. I need to trust you with the planning of this break-in, but you have no more experience with robbery than I do. There’s no reasonable explanation of why you should be the one in charge.”

  “There’s one.”

  “What is it?”

  He pressed his lips together in frustration.

  “We’re in agreement, then,” I said when he didn’t immediately respond. “We’ll do this together. Now, I don’t see why we have to break into the house at all. Rumor has it that Rocco and Edgar are living together. We could just ask your boss to help us—”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to make him suspicious. If he and Rocco are mixed up with Bridget and they are all selling stolen artwork, then my asking to examine the paintings might tip them off.”

  “But what if he’s innocent? If it was me, I’d want to know if something illegal was going down in my own house.”

  “I don’t want to take that chance.” He closed the distance between us and rubbed my arms. “If Edgar and Rocco are in on this, then doing anything out of the ordinary could cause them to start covering their tracks. We have to be discreet.”

  “We can’t break in. What if we get caught?”

  “What if Bridget is allowed to proceed unchecked?”

  “What if we’re wrong? I mean, she asked me to see the artwork. She had to know that I’d become suspicious.”

  “You said yourself that your expertise is contemporary art.”

  “Then why ask me there at all?”

  “She didn’t ask you. She asked me, and I insisted that you come along. Remember?”

  I did remember. “Doing something like this could ruin her reputation for life.”

  “And send her to jail. That’s why we need to be sure.” He shifted his hand and hooked his thumb under my chin. “That’s why we need to sneak in there and take a second look at those paintings.”

  “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell if those paintings are real. They’d have to be brought to someone who knows more about—”

  “There’s no time for that. The auction is coming up too fast. Besides, I trust your instincts.” He lowered his arm and smiled. “Do you still have that paper with the layout?”

  “Yes.” I nodded to the corner of the room. “It’s in my purse.”

  “Good. Pull it out and bring up the names of some of those paintings online. I’m sure if you study up a little on what we saw today, you’ll learn enough so that we’ll know whether or not to bring the police in on this.” He brushed a stray hair from my temple. “Look, this auction is connected to Henri’s death somehow.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Call it a gut instinct. He was murdered at the Morales estate, the same place where the auction is being held. Two weeks before, someone else from Cox Escort Services was killed at a house party Morales and Bridget attended.”

  “How do you know?”

  He hesitated a moment before responding. “Edgar told me. He was there, too.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “And the murder before that happened to an escort from Cox Services who was studying to become an artist at a local community college.”

  “How do you—”

  “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that all of these incidents are connected. I’m willing to bet you that something is going to happen at that auction, something big. I need to know if those paintings are involved somehow.”

  “But breaking in to someone’s home . . .”

  “We won’t steal anything. We’ll just have a look and leave. No one will know we were there.”

  It didn’t sound so bad when he put it that way, and I really did want to have a second look at those paintings. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I’m not trying to manipulate you.” He brushed his fingers along the side of my cheek. Heat spread over my skin, traveling down my center and burning through my core. “And I would never force you.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger against my chin and smiled. “All I’m doing is asking for your help. I know better than to try and do anything else.”

  I tried to suppress a smile. “Do you?”

  “Absolutely.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, letting his warmth and scent surround me. When he slid his tongue over my lips, I parted them, inviting him inside. I tilted my head as his taste filled my mouth, silently urging him deeper.

  “Take now for instance,” he said when he finally pulled away for breath.

  “Now?”

  He nodded and stepped back. “Now I want nothing more than to rip those clothes off your body and have my way with you, but I’m not going to do it.”

  I swallowed and leaned against the end table for support. “No?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He held his hands out to the sides. “I’m not going to touch you because I’m not in control here.” He took a step back toward the bed. “You are.”

  “Me?” My voice cracked as I took a step forward.

  “You.” He tugged his shirt from his pants and pulled it over his head. “Do whatever you want to me, Scarlett. You’re the one in control.” He dropped his shirt to the floor. “Always have been.”

  I stepped forward and pushed his chest, causing him to fall back onto the soft mattress. “I’m talking about more than just in the bedroom.” Although I had to admit, the idea of being in control in the bedroom was kind of hot.

  “I know.” He leaned back on the mattress and propped up his muscular torso with his elbows. “But you have to admit that the bedroom is a good place to start, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t change the subject.” I pulled off my clothes and straddled his hips. Reaching for his belt buckle, I undid his pants as I talked. “I’m not going to let you lead me around by the nose, Mr. Ferreira.”

  He raised his brows. “Even if it is for a good cause?”

  I paused, considering his words. “You can still ask me for what you want, and if you make a convincing argument, then I’ll let you have your way.” I smirked and unzipped his pants, dragging them off his legs. “But I wouldn’t let it go to your head. I’d need to assess your requests on a case-by-case basis.”

  “I see.” He inhaled sharply as I reached in between the folds of his boxers and wrapped my fingers around his cock.

  “I’m not the same girl I was in high school. I won’t tolerate being lied to, or manipulated.”

  “I told you, I’m not—”

  I stroked his shaft, cutting off his words. “Since I’m as curious as you are about what Bridget is up to, I’ve decided to help you with this break-in, but it will have to be on my terms.” I ran my finger over the tip of his cock. He closed his eyes and groaned. I could almost see the pleasure ripple through him. “Understood?”

  “What?”

  “I said, do you understand?” I leaned over and flicked my tongue over his head, catching the bead of moisture forming t
here.

  “Yes,” he hissed as I planted my feet on the floor and wedged myself in between his thighs.

  “Good.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at me, and for a moment, I was reminded of the boy I had fallen in love with so long ago. The same eagerness was there, the same uncertainty.

  “Back in high school, I was an idiot. I was—” He gasped as I slid my lips over his cock, pushing him deep inside my mouth.

  I had enough of talking, enough of laying down the rules. In this moment, he was giving me complete and total control, and I wanted to take advantage of it.

  I worked up and down his length, pressing my tongue along the underside of his shaft as I moved. He sat up and pushed back my hair as I worked. I sensed him watching me, and it made me feel powerful.

  Using my free hand, I gently cupped his balls and tugged them away from his body. He groaned and spread his legs apart, inviting me closer. I threw myself into the moment, and the more he seemed to lose control, the more powerful I felt.

  “Scarlett.” He tightened his grip on my hair, and I hummed my approval. Anticipation rippled around him as I worked, and I could feel him getting closer and closer to the edge. I pushed deeper, harder, and as I quickened my movements, he tugged my hair in time with my thrusts. He was trying to take over, I realized, and the knowledge caused me to pull away.

  “No.” I gently pushed his shoulder, leading him back onto the mattress. “You’re not taking charge. Not this time.”

  “Scarlett . . .” Whatever he was going to say was lost as I climbed up and straddled his hips. Grabbing his base, I positioned his shaft against my opening, sliding it through my slick folds.

  “You aren’t allowed to touch. Only watch.”

  “Come on. Let me just—”

  “I can leave.” I dropped his shaft and lifted my leg as if to climb off him.

  “No! Wait. I won’t move. Promise.”

  I slowly let my leg down and repositioned his cock. “Good.” I lowered my hips and impaled myself on his length. For a long moment I sat there, enjoying the stretching motion deep inside my core. Then I grabbed my breasts and started moving up and down his shaft.

  “Oh my God.” Gabe flexed his fingers on the mattress but didn’t touch me. “You look so beautiful.”

  I massaged and stroked my nipples, focusing on how the desire was building in my core. “Don’t touch,” I reminded him.

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  I rode his length, gliding up and down as the sense of urgency crawled through my body. Dropping my breasts, I planted my palms on his chest and rubbed my fingers over his nipples.

  Gabe groaned and fisted the blankets. “Scarlett, please.”

  I tilted my head up, letting my hair fall down my back. Closing my eyes, I focused on the pressure building in my core. The air heated, and the primal flesh-on-flesh sounds filled the air. I whimpered and groaned as I rode him, quickening my pace as I felt myself coming closer and closer to the edge.

  Letting go of his chest, I found his hands and threaded my fingers through his. Guiding him, I placed his fingers at my hips and held him there as the urgency within me grew. He pushed up his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. His determined grunts caused my breath to quicken and soon I felt myself hovering on the edge.

  “Gabe. Oh yes.”

  He shifted his hand and slid his thumb over my clit. A bolt of pleasure rushed through me, causing me to tumble over the edge. Light exploded through my body, numbing my mind to the point of bliss. As I cried out his name, I felt him stiffen beneath me and knew that he had tumbled into oblivion as well.

  For a long time, we hung there, suspended in the moment. Then when the euphoria finally started to fade, he wrapped his arms around my waist and turned us until we were lying side by side on the bed.

  I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. All I wanted to do was to huddle in the cocoon of ecstasy we had made and stay there forever.

  Unfortunately, reality came all too soon. I started thinking about Bridget and the paintings. I thought about the risks we would have to take in order to uncover the truth.

  “Promise me we won’t get caught, Gabe,” I whispered. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. When he spoke, it sounded as if he was on the verge of sleep. “We won’t get in trouble.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m a cop.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he sat up in bed. “I mean—”

  “You’re a what?” I blinked my eyes as the shock of his statement penetrated my fuzzy brain. “Did you just say that you were a cop?”

  “No, of course not. I mean . . .”

  “I thought you were an escort.”

  Guilt washed over his features as he turned and looked up at me. “I am, sort of.”

  “So you’re a cop who moonlights as an escort?”

  “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “Like what?” He reached for me, but I pushed his hand away. “Gabe, what’s going on?”

  He sighed and folded his hands behind his head. “I’m working undercover.”

  I blinked and tried to process this new information. “So everything we’ve been doing these past several days—”

  “Has been me trying to catch the Escort Killer, yes.”

  “Even dating me?” Shock slammed into me as the truth hit home. “You used me to get into those parties. And the art show.” I started to get out of bed, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

  “I’ll admit to doing some things in order to catch the killer, yes.” He sat up and met my gaze. “But dating you, being with you in the way we just were . . .” He cupped my cheek. “That was not an act.” He shifted his gaze to my lips. “Being with you has never been an act for me, Scarlett. While seeing you again was a surprise, I saw it also as an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity?”

  “I meant what I said earlier. You hold all the cards. You’re in control. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed since high school. Back then, I was running away because I was scared.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I’m not scared anymore.” He inched closer. “I want to be with you, Scarlett, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  I eased away from his tempting lips. I was mad, damn mad, and I wasn’t going to let him kiss his lies away. Not this time. “You can stop lying to me for starters.”

  “I have, I will. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Not anymore.”

  “I have so many questions.”

  “I’m sure. And I’ll answer as many as I can.”

  I tugged my hand from his and crossed my arms. “How can I trust that you aren’t lying to me now?”

  He twisted his lips into a half smile as he shifted his gaze to my lips. “Because you are the one in control now. Not me.”

  “Sure doesn’t feel like it.”

  “I know I’ve hurt you in the past, but I promise, I’ll spend a lifetime trying to make it up to you.”

  “Oh yeah? How?”

  “I don’t know, but perhaps this will be a good start.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my own.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Scarlett

  I woke up to a room full of darkness and a heart full of guilt. Despite my anger, I had let him have his way with me. We had sex not once, but twice, and I secretly think he was trying to tire me out so I wouldn’t yell at him.

  Gabe was a cop. Suddenly everything made sense. Now I understood his casual demeanor, his confident questioning. His friend on the police force wasn’t a friend from the army, but a coworker. Evidently they both had been working this case for a while. Between kisses, he told me of his suspicions, and how important it was that we identify those paintings. He promised me that everything was going to be fine, and all I had to do was trust him. He’d take care of everything.

&nbs
p; Trust him, despite the lies. I felt as if I was in high school all over again. Part of me wanted to walk away from all of this. I didn’t need this, especially with my gallery in so much financial trouble. On the other hand, if Bridget was selling stolen paintings and involved with the Escort Killer, then everyone in the art world was at risk. She had made a lot of enemies during her career. All of them would be in jeopardy. I owed it not only to myself, but to my colleagues, to get to the bottom of this. It was for that reason that I decided to help Gabe with his little trip to the Morales estate. Nothing more.

  I squinted as a cell phone light blinked on next to me on the mattress.

  “Who are you texting?” I asked.

  “Sal. I have to let him know that you know, and what we’re planning to do.”

  “Is he going to get a warrant?”

  Gabe shook his head. “There isn’t enough time, and I’m not entirely sure we can convince a judge we have probable cause. Besides, we don’t know how well connected these people are. If they learned of a warrant to search the mansion, they could move the artwork and we’d have to start over.” He brought the phone closer to his face and read the screen. “He wants us to take pictures while we’re there.”

  I turned and stared up at the ceiling. “So he’s okay with us breaking in to someone’s house to look at the paintings?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I turned to face Gabe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Gabe texted something and put down the phone. “I’m under cover. That means I do whatever it takes in order to get the job done, even if it is a little shady.”

  “Shady? What we’re talking about isn’t shady, it’s illegal.”

  He shrugged. “If it gets us the information we need, then it will be worth it.” He picked up the phone and began texting again.

  I tossed my arm over my head and closed my eyes in disgust. This wasn’t going to end well. I could feel it.

  Gabe was right, though. We didn’t have many options, and we were running out of time. There were so many questions, and so few answers. Somehow, everything I wanted to know centered on the man in bed next to me. It didn’t give me warm fuzzies. The last time we were a couple, I had felt the same way. He had told me all of these hurtful things back in high school, things that had sent me into a depression that took months to recover from. Back then, I had thought that we had formed a real connection, but learned that he was only using me as a “pleasant diversion” his senior year. Now, just when I thought he was starting to care for me, I learned that he was using me to gain access to the art show so he could catch a killer.