Silken Threats (18 page)

Before he could argue further—or suggest getting it on with her friend a floor below her was a bit of an obnoxious he-man move—she stepped up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“We don’t get many chances for happiness. It’d be a real shame to waste one. Especially when you both need it so badly.”

Lilah’s words were still rolling around his head a half hour later as he lay staring up at the ceiling. Her townhome was three stories and he had the first-floor guest room. Bailey snored gently at his side, his occasional whimpering and motions of running in place suggesting he was in a deep sleep.

Lucky mutt.

Tucker slammed a hand into his pillow, fluffing it up before crossing his arms behind his head. Visions of Cassidy, a few floors above him, filled his mind’s eye. He’d gotten a tour when they arrived, his architect’s nosy nature expecting no less, and he’d seen her bag in a guest room on the third floor.

The urge to go to her kept beating at him, along with Lilah’s words of encouragement.

And every time he shoved back the covers to go to her, his own beleaguered thoughts battered him with a round of arguments that had him lying back down again.

Don’t take advantage of her.

She’s in trouble. Only a complete jerk would try to get it on under the circumstances.

Give her space.

He’d rotated in a few other choice, expletive-filled comments in his mental battle, which was the only reason he could figure he didn’t hear the door slide open.

“Hey.” Cassidy’s voice traveled the width of the room. “Are you up?”

“I’m up.”

The movement and sliver of light from the hallway was enough to pull Bailey from his dream-induced puppy adventures and he sat up, his body instantly alert. As soon as he realized it was Cassidy, he settled down, a happy little sigh echoing from his throat.

First Lilah and now the dog?

Tucker shook off the odd thought and motioned Cassidy in. “I’m awake. What’s the matter?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“It was a big day.”

She moved closer to the bed, and his already tense body tightened painfully. An oversize gray T-shirt with the SMU logo emblazoned across her chest stopped midthigh, setting off her long, slender legs. That vibrant hair hung around her shoulders in curly waves and the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the silky strands nearly had him off the bed.

Don’t take advantage.

He wanted to curse his conscience to hell and back but still, he stayed where he was.

“Tucker?” She moved against the bed, lifting one knee to lean against the mattress. He felt the light depression of her weight and nearly groaned at how close she was.

At how easy it would be to reach out and touch her.

“Cassidy.”

“Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Then please don’t make me wait for you any longer.”

Her smile was bright in the slivers of moonlight that shone through the slats of the blinds. That smile was warmth. It was invitation.

And in that moment, he knew she welcomed him.

He reached for her, dragging her until she sprawled against his chest, his lips trailing a path against her throat as his hands played around the hem of her T-shirt. His fingers brushed over the soft skin of her lower back and he inched the cotton up before she shifted, slipping along his body like quicksilver.

Before he could stop her, she levered herself into a sitting position over his midsection and stared down at him. “This is for us. Let’s forget what’s outside and ignore what’s waiting. This is ours.”

“Ours.”

The word came out on a husky whisper before he pulled her full against him, his mouth hot on hers. She went willingly, a partner in their midnight discovery of each other’s secrets.

* * *

Tucker moved his fingers over the sensitive skin of her spine before drifting on a lazy path toward the sides of her breasts. She levered herself off his chest and reached for the hem of the T-shirt before his seeking hands stopped, gripping hers.

“Let me.”

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light in the room and she could see the wide pupils in his dark eyes as he looked up at her. She reveled in that look—the one that made her feel like a goddess—and dropped the hem to give him free access.

He lifted the material in one fell swoop, the neckline catching on her hair before he pulled it completely from her body. That dark, magnetic gaze never wavered but she watched, fascinated, as he clenched his jaw the moment his hands began to move over her skin.

Here was a man in control.

And in that instant, Cassidy acknowledged just how desperately she wanted to make him lose it.

Sharp darts of pleasure radiated from her nerves everywhere he touched. Her skin was on fire with the joy of being with him. With the joy of being worshipped.

He caressed her in lazy circles over her stomach as he worked his way, with exquisite slowness, to her breasts. By the time his hands covered the heavy globes, she pressed herself against him, whimpering as his fingers played over her aching nipples.

“Tucker.”

His voice was a lazy whisper as her head fell back, the simple joy of being touched filling her with wonder.

When his hand drifted away she opened her eyes, captivated by the wicked grin that reflected back at her. With one hand he supported her lower back while he maintained that exquisite contact with her breasts the other.

And then he leaned forward, capturing her bare nipple between his teeth.

A hard moan fell from her lips as the warm suction drew her in, deeper and deeper, against the sexy ministrations of his tongue.

Over and over, he circled her body, the erotic heat driving her slowly mad. A hot, achy need centered in her core and she writhed against him, desperate for him to release the pent-up longing.

As that ache expanded, filling her limbs with restless energy, she focused on returning the pleasure. With sinuous motions designed to torment, she slid against his body. The thin scrap of silk that still covered her core added another layer of torture against her heated body as she explored the perfection that was Tucker Buchanan.

Long, ropey muscles corded his arms and shoulders, the latter thick and rounded and hard. As she traced a path along his chest, she gloried in the hard planes and angles, so firm to the touch.

Eager to mimic the same pleasure he’d given, she ran her tongue over the heat of his chest before circling the tight skin of his nipple. He exhaled on a harsh intake of breath, the motion spurring her on as she drifted, lazy as a Sunday afternoon, to reward his other nipple.

“You drive me crazy.”

“Likewise, Ace.” She grinned up at him, the glorious pleasure suffusing her in generous waves. “I also happen to still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“That’s funny. So do I.”

He shifted, ready to capture her underneath him to continue the pleasure, but she beat him to the punch, her hand snaking quickly beneath the waistband of his briefs.

Tucker stilled at her touch, another hard exhale escaping his lips as she tightened her grip. “Told you I had a few tricks.”

“So you did.” He gritted his teeth and she watched—no, gloried—when his eyelids drooped to half-mast.

And then she added a few more, stroking his body and pushing him through his paces as he pressed himself into her hand.

He said her name again—the sound like a miracle to her ears—before his hand gripped her wrist, stemming her movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his ears. “Oh, but I think I do.”

A harsh laugh escaped his throat, half need, half joy, but he held her steady. “Much as I hate to have you stop, I have a few other plans for you.”

“Tell me about them.” She marveled at the rough whisper that seemed to emanate from the depths of her toes.

“I have an even better idea. Let me show you.”

He rolled her onto her back, and she used the momentum to push his briefs down, cupping the firm lines of his buttocks in her palms. He twisted and finished the job, then returned his hands to her waist and the thin layer of silk that still separated their bodies. “Game foul. You’re overdressed.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

He had his hands at her waist, the material halfway down her thighs when he stilled, his forehead dropping to hers.

“What?” It took Cassidy a moment to see through the haze of passion and realize he’d stopped moving. “What is it?”

“I don’t have anything...any protection.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, the sound dark and dangerous. It stopped her for a moment... Was that really her? The carefree temptress with a secret?

“Why are you laughing?”

“Look in the end table.”

Confusion stamped itself in his passion-glazed eyes, and Cassidy took pity on him and reached for the slim drawer herself. “Lilah to the rescue.”

“She keeps condoms in her guest rooms?”

“Not as a general rule. Or I don’t know, maybe she does, I’ve never looked before.”

“So how do you know they’re there?”

“Because she told me so before she said good-night and closed my bedroom door.”

“The woman bakes small slices of heaven and she even serves it up in her guest rooms. Remind me to buy her something.” Tucker’s hand closed over hers in the drawer as he snagged a foil packet. “Like a car.”

She laughed hard at that, the unrefined giggle too carefree and happy to hold back. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

His answering grin was as carefree as her own before he narrowed his gaze, the smile falling away. “You’re amazing.”

“Right back at ya, sexy.”

“No. I mean it. You’re truly something special.”

She quieted, the compliment washing over her like sunshine on a spring day.

All her life, she’d battled the feeling of not being enough. Of never quite living up to expectations. How extraordinary, then, to look into this man’s eyes and feel just right.

Absolutely, positively, 100-percent right.

She swallowed hard, the moment expanding in her chest like a warm flow of lava. He’d captured her heart, and she’d known it immediately. Had realized it the moment she’d seen at him from the front steps of her business, when he stood staring up at her with his ugly dog at his side.

But as he stared down at her now, his body poised over hers, she knew everything had changed.

She loved.

Reaching down, she guided him inside her body and braced herself for the onslaught of pleasure.

And as they both began to move—their rhythms matched and in tune with each other—Cassidy let herself fall.

Chapter 16

T
ucker lifted his arms to stretch and came awake around an armful of woman instead. Memories of the night before flooded his mind as a gentle hum of satisfaction lit under his skin.

He ran a hand along her side, molding his fingers to the gentle swell of her hips. She stirred under his questing hands, and a light moan drifted from the depths of her throat. His already erect body stirred to life, anxious to pick up where they’d left off a few hours earlier.

She stirred next to him, a groggier moan spilling from her lips before she rolled into him on a dull “oof.”

Her eyes shot open at the contact, sleep rapidly fading from those rich depths of blue.

“Morning.”

“Well.” A light blush filled her cheeks. “I think I’ve just proven I’m nothing if not graceful first thing in the morning.”

The cute blush brought him up onto an elbow before he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her lips. “I like clumsy.” He trailed a line of kisses along her neck. “With a side of delightfully mussed.”

“Um, Tucker.”

“Hmm?” He ran his tongue over her collarbone and delighted in the sleepy taste of her.

“Before you explore too much farther I think someone else needs your attention.”

Tucker felt the cold nose against his leg as Cassidy’s words registered and reluctantly rolled over to stare at Bailey. “You’ve got great timing.”

She patted his shoulder before pushing against him. “I’d say he’s got great control considering he’s not that far past puppyhood.”

“Yeah.” Tucker patted Bailey’s soft head. “He’s a good boy. But he’s got lousy timing.”

After one last lingering kiss, he got out of bed and tugged on a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt, then opened the bedroom door. Inspired, he turned back to stare at her. “Is it too much to ask you not to move an inch from that spot?”

“It wouldn’t be if I didn’t have an appointment this morning.”

Visions of more bridezillas floated through his mind, and his face must have registered his horror because she quickly waved him off. “Vi, Lilah and I are looking at a new venue. We’re evaluating it for our clients.”

“Sounds...fun.”

“It will be.” She pushed a thick wave of hair behind her shoulder, and Tucker’s mouth went as dry as the Sahara. “And since the three of us will be together you really are off the hook from coming with us.”

“I thought we agreed last night. Out in groups.”

“And mathematically Lilah, Violet and I make a group.”

He saw the very neat corner she’d backed him into and kept his mouth shut. He’d make a better argument after he had a cup of coffee.

Or so he told himself.

“Look. Go get Bailey out and we can talk about it over breakfast. Lilah’s making French toast to butter you up.”

A hard snort rose up in his throat. “You can’t think I’m that cheap and easy.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She winked before she slinked out of bed, naked as the day she was born, and headed toward the shower. “I think I’ve got your number.”

Twenty minutes later Tucker was on his third piece of French toast and second side of bacon and had to admit he was feeling awfully cheap and way too easy.

Evidently, the man who’d taken pride in living off rations for a week while he plotted to blow up a major enemy thoroughfare was an easy mark when it came to gourmet fare and perfectly cooked pork products.

“The location is three miles from the office. We’re driving together and we’re meeting two event planners once we get there, one of whom is a former professional wrestler.”

Tucker shot Cassidy the fish eye as he snagged another piece of bacon. “You’re making that up.”

Cassidy lifted up three fingers in the Girl Scout salute. “Honest as the day is long. He wrestled as Jungle Jim the Destroyer. Look him up. There’s no way someone’s taking a shot at us in broad daylight.”

The three of them had made different versions of the same argument since Lilah had set down the first plate of French toast and he’d pretty much agreed to their plan when another thought hit him. “And what about the jewels?”

“I’ve got a safe upstairs. They’re already locked in there and there’s no reason to think they’re going anywhere, especially after I set the house alarm,” Lilah said.

“We need to get them in a safe-deposit box.” Violet eyed the plate of bacon before reaching past it for a bowl of mixed berries.

Cassidy spoke first. “That assumes we’re keeping them. We’ll know more once we talk to Mrs. B. We’re headed there after the event meeting.”

“Have you considered the fact she might not talk to you? Something’s got her spooked, and if she thinks keeping quiet is for your own good, the likelihood of getting something out of her is slim.”

“That’s why we need to go there and see her. I’ve known her my whole life.” Cassidy pushed a piece of toast around her syrup. “I just need some time with her to convince her to trust us with whatever this is.”

Tucker wasn’t so sure but he kept his thoughts to himself. He’d fielded a text from Max earlier and his grandfather still hadn’t budged on whatever it was he knew.

“Max and I will join you at the hospital.”

“We don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“Then you all can take Mrs. B. and we’ll take Max Senior. I don’t know about you, but I’m done being left in the dark.”

* * *

In the end, Tucker accompanied the women to their appointment at a new high-rise hotel that had opened downtown. He told himself it was nothing more than curiosity over Jungle Jim, but one glance at Cassidy, her head bent close with Lilah’s and Violet’s, and Tucker knew he was deluding himself.

It was her.

She’d captivated him and he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

Add on the very real threat lurking, waiting to strike at her and her friends like a snake in the grass, and he decided his time was better spent tagging along.

“What do you think, Tucker?” As if she sensed he’d zoned out to another planet, Cassidy reeled him back in, a smug smile stamped across her face. “Do you like the silver drape for this sweetheart table or the soft mauve?”

“Neither. I would prefer a deep, dark red.”

“A bold choice.” Violet nodded before tilting her head to stare across the ballroom at a picture only she could imagine. “But a potential clash for a spring wedding.”

“Why the red?” The teasing lightness had vanished, replaced by genuine curiosity as Cassidy lifted a swatch of tablecloth they’d each touched and discarded earlier.

“Because it’s bold. It says look at me.”

“Everyone’s already looking at the bride.”

“No.” He shook his head, not sure why it mattered to him so much to reiterate his point. “Red says we’re a couple. It says look at us, standing here boldly before you. It says we’re having a party to kick off our forever.”

The three women stared at him in various states of surprise, but it was Cassidy who moved up and slid her hand in his. “What a lovely sentiment.”

“Is it sentiment if it’s true?”

“I’d say so.” She pressed a brief kiss to his lips. Although quick, it hinted at something more. Something permanent. And as Tucker followed them from the ballroom to the kitchen, he couldn’t get the image of something more out of his mind.

An hour later Cassidy found him seated at one of the undressed table rounds back in the ballroom. Although he’d had every good intention when he followed the women into the kitchen, Lilah’s in-depth questioning over how the hotel prep staff manned their warming stations, the number of available cook tops and proper ice-making equipment had finally forced him to throw in the towel.

He had a few phone calls to make and some follow-up on an upcoming job, and the quiet of the ballroom gave him a chance to work through his ever-growing to-do list.

“That’s an hour of my life I can’t get back.” She flopped into a chair opposite him and dropped her head into her hands.

“I thought you wanted to do this?”

“I did. Until I felt my brains leak out of my head over a discussion of cake-serving techniques. We need to learn to split these trips up.” She winked. “Or ditch Lilah with the head chef the moment we walk in.”

Tucker laid a hand over hers, grateful for the reassuring contact. He knew they were safe here. Had kept an eye on the perimeter as well as every strange face they passed.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to settle this morning.

She lifted her hand, palm-up, and laced their fingers. “Did one of us at least get some work done?”

Whether it was the gentle question—partnership filling each and every word—or the feel of her fingers wrapped in his, Tucker wasn’t sure. But in that moment, something clicked.

Swift and immediate, with all the force of a bullet dropping into a chamber.

Or a stubborn, lonely man falling hard and fast into love.

“Tucker?”

Her smile remained gentle, but he saw the questions in her eyes. He wanted to answer them—all of them—but instead he swallowed hard around the dryness that coated his throat like powder. “I got some details on a job site I need to visit next week.”

“That’s good.” She squeezed his fingers. “Good and
normal
.”

“And I got an update from Max. His grandfather is still playing the stubborn mule card.”

A small sigh left her lips. “Which means we’re going to spend another afternoon at the hospital.”

“Looks like it.”

“Which also means I am not going to think about all the work I have to get done in the next two days before another round of fittings.”

Her phone went off, echoing through the cavernous ballroom. Tucker dropped her hand as she reached for her purse and busied himself with his own phone, looking up when she gasped.

“What is it?”

Her eyes narrowed on her cell’s glass face before she bypassed the call.

“That was an awfully coincidental blast from my past.” The phone beeped as the voice mail notification popped up. “That was my ex-fiancé.”

“Which one?” When she shot him the eye, he lifted his hands. “Come on. It’s a valid question.”

“Number two. And somehow I don’t think he’s calling so we can take a jaunt down memory lane.”

* * *

Cassidy fought the swells of anger and forced herself to ride them like waves on the ocean. No matter how high they rose she pictured riding them out, then flowing gently back to shore.

But damn it all to hell.

The calm vanished as her mind worked through the realities of Robert’s call.

She didn’t believe in coincidence.

And she was fast coming to believe there was no way every horrifying thing that had happened in the past few years wasn’t connected.

First her sister. Then her brother-in-law. Even the attack on Mrs. B.

There was no way they weren’t connected in some way.

Of course, what did that say about her and what was shaping up to be her abominably poor judgment?

For days she’d fought the rising sensation that she didn’t really know the people in her life. Was that their fault? Or had she created the distance all on her own?

“Play the voice mail again.” The light, flirty teasing that had filled Tucker’s voice as they’d walked through the hotel had vanished at the news that Robert Barrington had reappeared in her life.

“Absolutely not.” Lilah interjected her sizeable opinion into the discussion. “I’ve heard that slimeball’s voice enough times already. We know what that voice mail says and we all know damn well what it means.”

“He’s in on this.”

The words fell from Cassidy’s lips, and she was surprised by the sorrow she heard there.

She’d been engaged to the man. Had been on the verge of joining her life to his. Had things worked out, they’d have been married for over three years now. They’d likely have a child or one on the way. Maybe both.

And she’d be married to a criminal.

The accusations continued to fly through her thoughts, as unwelcome as they were true.

“Are you going to call him back?” Violet’s question hovered over the table like a bubble everyone watched, waiting for it to burst.

“Nope.”

“What if he’s behind this?” Ever the diplomat, Violet leaped to the question of the hour.

Cassidy knew she was playing with fire. Knew that whatever was going on had its roots in something far more dangerous—and with people who played by a depraved set of rules.

But on the subject of Robert she refused to budge.

“Then he’s got to come to me. On my turf. On my terms.”

* * *

The man known as the Duke viewed the array of gemstones laid out on his desk, a full-scale replica of the one JFK used in the White House. He was still working on how to replace this desk with the one in Kennedy’s presidential library and knew in time he’d figure out how.

In the meantime, he’d focus on the issue at hand.

He ran a finger over one of the stones.

He’d heard the rumors for years. That the replicas of the Crown Jewels created during World War II were later secreted out of Britain, still intact. And to think they’d been sitting in Texas ever since.

The owners of the jewels thought themselves so adept at keeping the secret, but those at home had talked.

Someone always talked.

He’d learned the lesson young. His father was a brutal taskmaster, schooled in the old ways. He was a man who understood the value of silence, secrecy and absolute dedication to one’s task and he’d instilled it in his only son.

By honing those skills and taking advantage of the grand masses who didn’t have the drive or the perseverance to do the same, the Duke had learned one could always find success.

And now he had.

Or nearly had.

For all the intel he’d managed to secure, he’d never been able to acquire a full accounting of the contents smuggled out of England. The most likely scenario was a set of replicas, fully matched to the largest stones in the collection, with the smaller stones unduplicated as they were considered less at risk.

Or less valuable. Only the very biggest and best for a monarch.

He ran a finger over the three largest pieces—the replicas of Cullinan I and II as well as the Koh-i-Nor. The most well-known of the Crown Jewels, the copies were extraordinarily well-done and would command a premium on their own.