Secret Seduction (6 page)

Maybe he was right, but he didn’t want to explain that he’d blown through most of the advance they’d gotten for the job. After all, the van hadn’t been cheap, and they still had a lot of traveling to do, so he’d set some money aside for his expenses. Now he thought he’d have to hire a few other guys to help watch the ports, maybe send them ahead to Rome. He still had a few other methods of getting his hands on the girl again; he’d be damned if he let her slip through his fingers next time.

R
ic Derby sat in the office at his art gallery, The Blue Spot, in Portland, Oregon and stared at the clock. His one o’clock appointment hadn’t lasted long enough, leaving him with over an hour to kill before his next appointment. An appointment he’d been waiting for his whole life.

One little pink stick had said “yes”, so he was pretty sure the answer was yes, but his new wife of just under a year hadn’t trusted it. So he’d had to go down to the corner store, just before midnight, where he had bought one of every kind of pregnancy test. Still, Roberta hadn’t believed those either, hence their doctor appointment at four today.

He was so nervous, it was like he was back in college taking a test, and he prayed to God that he would pass this one. They hadn’t planned on getting pregnant this soon, but neither of them could be happier or more nervous. Ever since Roberta had retired from the Portland Police Department as Detective, she’d been head of security for their art galleries. He enjoyed working with her and loved spending time with her every day.

When the phone rang, he was almost too engrossed in his thoughts to register the sound.

“Blue Spot Galleries.”

The voice was computerized and almost too low to hear. “If you ever want to see your sister, Katie Derby, alive again, you will wire ten million dollars to the offshore account by this time tomorrow.” Ric rushed to write down the bank information that was said and repeated quickly.

There was a click and Ric felt like passing out. It took him less than five seconds to pick up the phone and dial it again.

“Dad, someone’s…”

“I received a call, too, son. Not two minutes ago.”

Just then Roberta, Ric’s wife walked in. “Hang on, Dad. Rob’s here.” He punched the speakerphone button as Roberta looked at him with a questioning look.

After filling his wife in on what was happening, he watched her put on her “cop mask” and take charge of the call as she got to work. When they hung up with his father ten minutes later, she had the FBI on the phone and was relaying every detail of the calls.

Rodrick had updated them on Katie’s last whereabouts. She’d been in Greece the last time he’d heard. They had decided the best thing to do was work with Damiano and Dante in Italy to track down the trail.

Fifty minutes later, Ric and his father had chartered a plane to Rome. Roberta would stay behind and work with the FBI, while waiting for any other calls.

Three hours later, Ric and Rodrick were both sitting on his private jet, watching the ground disappear beneath them. Rushing to find Katie had been something both of them had demanded to take part in.

Something wasn’t right. Jason had been waiting too long for Katie to come back out of the restroom. Grabbing his bag, he headed to the back and banged on the woman’s restroom door. When no one answered, he tried the door handle. Jerking it open, he was shocked to see Katie in a small white tank top and tight little shorts. She had her head in the sink, and her face and hair were under the fast stream of water coming from the faucet. She was lathering up her hair with shampoo and he noticed bubbles running down her bare neck and arms.

When he’d barged in, she’d jerked her head up, slamming it on the corner of the sharp metal faucet.

“Ouch, damn it, Jason!” She rubbed her head with her fingers, near the spot she’d just hit.

Recovering, he quickly shut the door behind him, locked them in, and walked over to her. He dropped his bag next to hers then took her head in his hands and looked at the small injury.

She was still bent over the sink, her wet hair dripping in her eyes and face. “Here, let me see. Oh, man. You’ve got a small cut here. The faucet must have been sharp.”

“Can’t I just have a few minutes to clean up without having you barge in here acting like you’re a white knight trying to rescue me?” He could see tears of pain in her eyes as she looked up at him. Then again, he thought, maybe they were from the shampoo dripping into her eyes.

“Shh.” He pulled her head back towards the sink. “Here, let me help.” He started splashing water over her soapy head.

She braced her hands on the sink ledge and held on. He could see her shifting her feet to bend over and knew that the position was probably uncomfortable for her.

“There was so much flour in my hair, I just had to clean some of it out,” she said over her shoulder, while trying to look at him.

He turned her head back and placed it over the sink, then he cupped his hands, scooping the water up and gently dumping it over her hair, washing the bubbles from it.

She became very still while holding onto the side of the sink for support, so he continued rinsing her hair until it was clean. When he was done, he bent over and picked up the small hand towel she’d dropped.

He turned her around so she faced the mirror and slowly rubbed her hair dry. He leaned her head down so he could gently part her hair where the small cut was. He noticed the bleeding had stopped thanks to the cold water, but he still made sure it was clean before continuing to dry her hair.

He wiped the water from her shoulders and arms and his eyes roamed over her in the mirror. He noticed that her face was pink and looked flushed. Then he saw that her white tank top had gotten a little wet from leaning over the sink. He could just make out dark circles through the wet material, and enjoyed seeing her nipples poking upward, thanks to the cold water.

He became painfully hard as he stood behind her. Looking up into her face, he noticed that she was now watching him in the mirror. She had a look on her face like she’d never seen him before.

“What?” She sounded breathless.

“What? What?” he almost whispered in response.

She watched him in the mirror, and it took all his will power not to look at her nipples through the wet shirt again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Like what?” He tried to stop thinking about her, about wanting to see all of her.

Her hair had been so soft under his hands and he had thoroughly enjoyed washing it; there was something so intimate about the simple act. In the small room, he could smell her shampoo, a sexy scent with a hint of honey, just like her.

The room seemed to be getting smaller, and he licked his lips and watched as she started to finger comb her hair.

He bent down and reached into his bag and pulled out a small comb, then watched her face in the mirror as he started to gently pull it through her hair.

He enjoyed seeing her eyes close in pleasure as he kept running it through her hair, making sure to gently work out any tangles. She leaned back against him, and he thought she would feel what she was doing to him, since he was pressed right up against her tight little butt. If she moved just a little against him, he was sure he would explode right then and there.

When her hair was combed smooth, he set the comb down on the counter-top and she opened her eyes to look at him in the mirror. He could see the passion and maybe a hint of something else there. Determination?

With his eyes on her, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her neck, just below her ear. Her eyes closed again and she moaned with delight, leaning her head back against him. His hands roamed up and down her arms, spreading small bumps along her skin. He licked the underside of her ear and dipped his tongue in, just for a taste. He slowly nibbled on her earlobe and swore he heard her purr.

Her body was pressed tight against his and when he moved his hands to her front, he pulled her back tighter against his desire. Her eyes flew open quickly and then she smiled at him in the mirror. He just smiled back and continued his kisses along her jawline until she relaxed back against him. He watched in the mirror as he slowly moved his hands up until he cupped her perfect breasts with his hands and felt her tight nipples peak against his fingers. He rolled them lightly between his fingers and enjoyed seeing her eyes cloud as she leaned her head back against him, totally losing control.

He moved one hand slowly down her flat stomach until it rested at the top of her shorts. When she didn’t push him away, he dipped his hand between her skin and the denim, feeling her soft skin, playing his fingers over the soft hair that covered her below. Using just his finger, he roamed farther down until he found her hot and wet. He parted her soft folds and pushed a finger into her slowly. Her hips stopped moving and she closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder with a moan.

He slid his finger in and out a few times, slowly. He could feel her slickness and wished he could see all of her, taste her, smell her, and lap her up.

Then he rubbed his finger over her again and felt her hips moving slowly with his movement, gliding his finger farther.

He wanted to yank her tight shorts down quickly, then bend her over and bury himself in her sweet wetness.

She was riding his finger and he could tell that she was on the verge of coming when there was a light knock on the door. Her eyes flew open and as she looked at him in the mirror, he watched realization flood her face, and her cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

Removing his hand slowly, he kissed her neck and said against her skin, “We’d better be going. It’s getting late and we have a lot of walking to do.” He bent to get his bag, trying to shake the image of Katie, wet, hot, and on the verge of coming in his hand, out of his mind.

Three hours later as the sun was beginning to sink lower, his mind was on anything but Katie in a wet shirt and tight, little shorts.

“Can you complain any more?” he asked over his shoulder.

“You said we were just outside of town. You didn’t say we weren’t going to stop in that town. Why are we still walking? Why haven’t we stopped?” She reached over and yanked on his arm until he spun around and looked at her. Her hair had dried in the sun, leaving it curly. Sweat was rolling down her neck and face and he could see she wasn’t going to take another step until he answered at least one of her questions.

“We haven’t stopped yet, because we are not where we are heading.” He tried to turn around.

“Jason Allen Keaton!” She stomped her foot and looked at him like his mother used to. It didn’t have the same effect. “Where are we heading?”

“Rome.” He started to turn around again.