Читать книгу Marriage Confidential - Debra Regan - Страница 10
ОглавлениеMadison knew precisely what he was asking and she was ashamed for not thinking of it earlier. Her desperate action had put him at risk. She blamed her oversight on being near him, close enough to touch. Holding his hand, having that strong, warm palm pressed against hers, brought her persistent fantasy to life with vivid detail. Despite the crazy twists and turns of the evening, despite knowing there were likely more problems ahead, this past hour with him had been nothing short of a dream come true.
And now she was waking up with a jolt. “Only the security clearance team is aware the wedding set is only for show.” The rings had been enough of a buffer for her, until tonight.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he stated, executing another perfect turn in the dance.
Of course it didn’t. Sam Bellemere, master of logistics and computer code, was searching for the bug—the flaw—in her story. “I have no reason to believe your home has been compromised.” She pushed the words through the tight smile she kept plastered on her face.
“A good start.”
“I never once used your full name in any conversation or correspondence until tonight.”
She felt more than heard his disbelieving snort. Did he have to push this here and now? She was worn out, had been working toward this evening for the better part of a year. She had a bottle of her favorite wine chilled and waiting at her apartment for her private celebration. “I will tell you the whole story. In person.”
“I know.” His hands flexed, underscoring the inevitability of those two words.
Was that a threat or a promise? Her body had an opinion, but that was nothing new. She’d worked her tail off through high school and college until finally realizing her goal of becoming a liaison with the State Department. The joy had dulled quickly when she ran up against the preconceived notions of men and women from different countries and cultures. It wasn’t a shock, she knew her research, yet facing it head-on day in and day out had challenged her resolve. The illusion of having a husband smoothed out those rough edges and gave her the respect and distance she needed to excel in her position. Even the team who handled her security clearance had been on board with the idea, since there wouldn’t be any issues with questionable romantic relationships.
At the office, with the people who knew her best, she’d found having a particular man in mind made the lie easier. Even if she didn’t share the details of the whirlwind wedding and happy marriage, it gave her story credibility. No need to fabricate height, hair and eye color, or how her husband smiled at her over a shared joke. All she had to do was picture the man dancing with her now.
Sam Bellemere, reclusive, wealthy and brilliant, was the embodiment of her ideal husband and she had no intention of admitting such a thing. At six feet, he was the perfect height for her. His brown hair and brown eyes might sound bland, yet thinking about the flecks of gold in his irises she’d noticed when he tutored her, recalling his exasperation and amusement with her struggle to learn what he mastered so easily, always made her smile. It was those sweet memories that convinced her coworkers she’d found her soul mate.
If only it could be true.
It was impossible to ignore how he’d bulked up as he matured, filling out through the shoulders and everywhere else since high school. He was light on his feet, his muscles firm under his tuxedo. She’d read in an interview that he kept fit by boxing at a gym across town. It was obviously working.
She reeled in her attraction before it became obvious. Her crush on him had begun that first week of his tutoring. No matter where she went, who she met or dated, or how many birthdays she celebrated, he was the standard by which she measured all men. She knew being stuck on a high-school crush was ridiculous. She worried there was something wrong with her emotionally. Every attempt to break through those persistent feelings had failed.
“Madison?”
Tonight was a dream twisted within a nightmare of potential embarrassment. She’d never meant for them to play the happily married couple in public. Her body heated with every sway and step she took near him, believing the impossible. If she were brutally honest, she’d admit her entire system had gone on full alert when he stepped into the security office. Without an ice bath, she didn’t stand a chance of cooling down any time soon.
“Madison?” He spun her out and back to him once more.
“Hmm?”
“What’s on your mind?”
She jerked herself back into work mode. “The hacker.” It wasn’t really a lie. She’d mastered the art of compartmentalizing and showing interest in one thing while her mind raced off in another direction.
She really should credit that skill to Sam, as well. In high school, he’d never done more than shake her hand the first day the teacher introduced them. Her fantasies had been outrageously different. Looking back, she knew the only reason Sam’s tutoring had been effective was that she’d been determined to prove she wasn’t the typical dumb blonde. She wanted to earn his respect as a student and win his attention as a person. It hadn’t worked, although she passed the classes she needed to keep her career goals on track. By the time they went their separate ways at graduation, she’d settled into the reality of being his friend, knowing she’d lost the chance to be his girlfriend.
“Madison?”
“Yes.”
“The music’s over.”
Feeling the gaze of others on them, she stepped back and grinned up at him, playing the role of enamored spouse to perfection. Indulging herself, she brushed nonexistent lint from the lapel of his tuxedo so she could feel the solid muscle of his chest under his clothing. The images that flooded her mind nearly undermined her reserve and self-control.
“I need to stay until the guests are gone. Would you like me to call a car for you?”
His palm trailed down her arm until his hand engulfed hers. “Now that I’m here, I’m reluctant to leave without you.”
She knew he didn’t intend for those words to twine around her heart and yet she couldn’t stop the response. “When did you start enjoying social outings?”
“It’s a recent development.” His voice, low and rough, sent a shiver of desire over her skin. With another man she’d chalk up the comment as innuendo, but that wasn’t how Sam was wired.
Pulling herself together, she returned to her responsibilities of giving each guest a proper farewell and seeing everyone out of the museum as she gave more vague answers about their relationship.
Mr. Liu found her mingling with his wife and the other members of his party near the gallery and he signaled for a tray of champagne. “One last toast,” he said, holding his glass high. “May the gods of happiness, wealth and longevity smile upon you both, this day and always.”
They all drank to her marriage and Mr. Liu urged Madison and Sam toward the white jade cup on display while those who had arrived with him headed for the car waiting out front. “I had concerns, Mrs. Goode, as you know. Please also know I appreciate how efficiently you handled them.” He slid a look at Sam.
“It is my honor, Mr. Liu,” she replied. “We want you to be at ease, confident that we value the treasures you’ve shared here as much as China does.”
Mr. Liu met her gaze with direct, pointed interest. “I find it intriguing, Mrs. Goode, that you’ve kept a treasure of your own so well hidden.” He bowed slightly at Sam, maintaining eye contact. “Mr. Bellemere, it was an honor and good fortune to meet you personally this evening. Your company is of great interest to me.”
It shouldn’t have shocked her that Sam was known to leaders in China. He and Rush had established a global influence within the market of data security.
Assuming someone from the consulate hadn’t tried to plant listening devices in her apartment previously, they would be desperate to do so now that she was known to be married to Sam. Mr. Liu wasn’t even bothering with subtlety. If someone managed to bug her apartment, they’d soon learn she wasn’t really married to Sam. Madison was calculating the fallout, the timing and how to handle it as the men chatted about computer advancements.
With no more than a glance, Sam understood what she needed and helped her guide Mr. Liu toward the car and those waiting for him.
“My son has a great interest in the computer sciences,” Mr. Liu said, deftly shifting to an indirect tack. “He lacks follow-through and motivation, despite the best efforts of his family and educators. I’ve often thought it might motivate him to see what is possible.”
“How old is your son?” Sam asked.
“Nearly eighteen,” Mr. Liu replied. “He will begin at Stanford in the fall.”
“A very good school,” Sam said.
Mr. Liu ignored Madison’s attempts to lead him down the front steps. Resigned, she watched for an opening to rescue Sam from the conversation, but Sam seemed content. She let her mind wander over the evening, considering it a success. Regardless of the invisible, contained antics of the hacker, no one had suffered a misstep or misspoken word. Except her, by calling in her fake husband to save the evening.
She owed him more than an explanation, she thought, as Mr. Liu finally joined those waiting for him in the long black limousine. With a wave, she stepped back inside, startled to find herself alone with the museum director. Had Sam decided he didn’t need the full details of their fabricated marriage after all? For some inexplicable reason the idea made her sad as she and Mr. Wong chatted during the final walk-through of the museum.
When they reached the back hallway, she heard raised voices in the security office. Through the open door she saw Sam and Agent Spalding locked in a heated discussion.
“It’s not something I handle so casually,” Sam was saying. “You’ll have to go through the appropriate channels.”
“I am leading the only official investigation,” Spalding fired back. “It’s better for everyone if you cooperate up front.”
“We don’t even have an ID,” Sam retorted. “Bring over a legit ID and a warrant and someone can probably tell you if he has a Gray Box. Until then you’re shooting in the dark.”
“Is the overnight team in place?” Madison asked Spalding, striding forward and inserting her voice into the verbal fray.
“Yes,” Spalding answered, glaring over her head at Sam as if she weren’t there. “The team will stay on full alert outside and in.”
“Wonderful,” she replied. “Then it’s time for the rest of us to go home.”
“You can go once I’m confident your husband will keep me in the loop.”
She silenced Sam’s reply with a raised finger. “He gave you his word earlier. You watched him lend us his phenomenal expertise with zero advance notice this evening. What else do you need to hear, Special Agent Spalding?”
Spalding planted his hands on his hips. “Mr. Bellemere keeps secrets for a living.”
“No,” Sam interjected. “My company offers people and businesses secure cloud storage solutions. That is entirely different.”
“This is neither the time nor the place,” Madison emphasized, “to get into a philosophical discussion about online privacy. I am grateful to the FBI for helping this event run safely and smoothly tonight. Whatever the hacker’s goal, I’m sure we’ll all work together to root him out before he causes serious trouble.”
Obviously not even close to appeased, Spalding stood down for the moment. When she’d gathered her red silk shawl and her briefcase, the three of them along with the museum director walked together in a tense silence to the rear entrance of the museum. Satisfied with the alarms, Spalding offered Sam and Madison a ride. Sam refused for both of them.
“We’re covered.” He pointed to a limo waiting under a streetlamp on the far side of the parking lot. “My driver’s waiting.”
Spalding muttered something Madison didn’t hear because she was nudging Sam toward the car. They had more important issues to discuss. At half past midnight, she hoped he’d let the discussion wait until morning.
The driver opened the rear door for them, giving her a small nod as she slid into the plush leather seat, followed closely by Sam. Maybe he left events with women all the time. Her heart sank a little at the thought.
When the driver was settled behind the wheel, she leaned forward to give him her address.
“Mr. Bellemere already provided the destination, ma’am,” he replied.
“Thank you.” She sat back and caught the grim expression on Sam’s face. “What’s wrong?”
He ignored her. “Jake, have you left the car alone at all tonight?”
“No, sir,” the driver said. “I gassed up after I dropped you off. When I received your message, I stuck close. Didn’t park until about an hour ago and no one has been near the car.”
“Thank you.” Sam turned the full force of his attention to her, irritation snapping in his eyes. “You can start explaining right here, right now.”
“What do you mean?”
Sam’s dark eyebrows arched as if her confusion baffled him. “Do I have to spell it out? The car is clean. It hasn’t been left alone for anyone to tamper with.”
“Tamper?” He was deliberately trying to scare her and he was succeeding.
“How often do they sweep your office for listening devices?”
She folded her arms and stared out the window. “Often enough,” she said, refusing to take the bait.
“Why do they sweep for those devices?”
“Okay, point made. Stop being a jerk.” She was too tired for any more diplomacy tonight. “I’m glad your limo isn’t bugged. I’m sure your house isn’t either.”
“If we’re lucky we’ll catch them in the act when we arrive.”
“You’re being unreasonable. Wait. We?”
“It’ll raise too many questions if the first time I show up to one of your events we don’t go home together.”
“You’re overreacting.” Her molars might crack from the strain. Thoroughly exhausted, she refused to give his paranoia more fuel.
“Jake, are we being followed?”
“Always a tough call on a Friday night in traffic.”
Sam grunted. “Do what you can to find out.”
“Sam, I’m tired,” Madison said. “I want the peace and quiet of my apartment.”
“You promised me answers about this whole marriage business.”
“Isn’t the morning soon enough?”
“No. I’d like to hear the whole story tonight.”
“Hang on.” She scooted closer to him and lowered her voice. “You still don’t sleep?”
He pushed a button on the console in the ceiling and the privacy screen rose between them and the driver.
Suddenly the space was far too intimate and way too reminiscent of her silly teenage-girl prom night fantasy. The illusion she’d harbored of Sam walking into the dance and taking notice of her as a girl rather than a friend. In her illusion, he’d crossed the room and kissed her right there in front of everyone. Even back then she’d known it was an impossible dream. Sam was too shy for such a public display, but she’d dreamed it anyway, night after night. Now she was a woman and she had a better understanding of what to wish for and with whom.
“Madison.” His hand was gentle and warm against her bare shoulder. “Just tell me the story.”
“We’ve been married almost two years. July Fourth is our anniversary.”
“How patriotic of us,” he quipped.
She tilted her head. “It came down to available time off for me, time between projects for you.” She managed to play it cool until the driver suddenly took a hard right. The force dumped her into Sam’s strong embrace.
“What the—”
She tried to be grateful as he righted her before she could snuggle deeper into his embrace. “He’s checking for a tail,” Sam explained.
“Does this happen often?”
“Rush only hires the best. You’d be surprised how many people try to hassle us.”
So maybe his paranoia had stronger roots than the trouble she’d dumped on him tonight. Maybe, with a little time, he’d understand her rash actions.
“Which is my real question,” Sam pressed. “Why did you choose me?”
She brought her mind back to the issue, tried to deliver the facts in a linear, logical order. “I’m aware other cultures view single women differently, even when they’re in the US,” she said. “I hadn’t worried much about it, but it soon became obvious I needed a polite excuse to rebuff advances. Wearing a wedding band is a common tactic, although it doesn’t always stop the most persistent people.” She rubbed the platinum setting on her finger with her thumb.
“What do you mean?”
She glanced up, catching a flash of anger in his brown gaze. “Possessive of a wife you just met?”
His short bark of laughter was cool, breaking the tension. “Apparently.” He motioned for her to continue. “Creating a mythical husband is understandable.”
“I based the myth on you.” She moved her hand up and down. “Your looks, skills, all of it. Easier than creating a husband from scratch.” She hoped he believed her. “I promise I never used your full name. I can’t recall using your first name very often and never with anyone outside of my office.”
“Why was I the foundation for your imaginary husband?”
She swallowed, too mortified to give him the truth. The car swerved again and this time Sam fell her way. His big palm landed with a delicious pressure on her thigh and she marveled that the silk didn’t just evaporate under the heat.
He drew back quickly, the question lurking in his eyes.
“Because you were a friend I trusted.” Because using him gave her fake husband more than an image and career, it gave him a personality. “As for tonight, the most expedient way to get you on the guest list was to own the lie and make it real. No one would question the clearance for my husband.”
“Ah. Got it.”
He didn’t, not completely. If she was lucky, he’d never know the whole story of her ongoing infatuation with him. “Besides, you did owe me a favor.”
“I’d say we flew right by even and you owe me now.”
He was right and she felt terrible for it. “We don’t have to keep up the ruse.” She could manage things from here. “You saved the day blocking that hacker. Now you can go do your thing and I’ll do mine. We don’t have to play happy couple anymore.”
“You’re wrong about that.” He drummed his fingertips on his knee.
She frowned at him. “Pardon me?” She knew the schedule and while there were several events where a date would be nice, his presence wasn’t required. “I can go back to attending functions alone. It’s not a big deal.” After the past few hours she knew having Sam around would be the real problem because she let his presence distract her.
“I disagree. Now that I’ve been identified, there will be repercussions. Liu already assumes a relationship to me through you.”
“He’s lamenting the idea that his son is a loser who will shame the family,” she said. “The topic tends to come up at every opportunity.”
Sam gave her a look she remembered, the one that was part query and part disappointment in her answer. “Is the kid a loser?”
She preferred discussing a stranger to confessing her personal sins. “He’s young, arrogant and entitled. That may or may not improve while he’s in college.”
Sam sighed, apparently satisfied. “The museum will need to stay on alert. They should also take stronger measures to shut out more hacks.” He opened his mouth to say more, but the intercom beeped.
“Trouble,” Jake reported.
“You know what to do,” Sam replied. “Don’t worry,” he said to Madison.
“What trouble?” Madison twisted in her seat. The street behind them was crowded with headlights. “What does he know to do?”
Sam shrugged and she wanted to slap that smug expression off his face. “He drives a specific route we can tap into later for potential identification.”
“Can he do that and then take me home?” she pleaded. “I have a meeting first thing in the morning.” She wanted to get out of these heels and into her pajamas before she wrote up her report on the evening.
“On a Saturday?”
“Really?” She leaned back. “That’s rich, the perennial workaholic criticizing my schedule.”
“What happened to your famous, unflappable composure?” He patted her knee. “You pulled off a marriage charade along with mostly false assurances that an irreplaceable treasure from China is secure without batting an eye. Sitting back while my driver evades a tail shouldn’t be a big deal.”
She couldn’t tell what he expected of her. At this hour she didn’t care. “Take me home. I’ll be safe in my building.”
“Fake or not, tonight you’re safer with your husband,” he said, catching her as the driver’s next turn pitched her into him again.
She couldn’t control her runaway imagination. In a flash she could clearly see life as Sam’s wife. It would be bliss to come home after a long day and talk with him over a pepperoni pizza and a couple of beers. Never once in her fantasy had she seen a face other than his when she thought of a husband.
Preposterous. Impossible. Wishful thinking at its finest. The car bounced a little as the driver entered a parking garage with too much speed.
“Now we’re clear,” Sam said a moment before Jake confirmed the status. The limousine came to a halt and Sam pushed open the door, extending a hand to help her.
Resigned to the strange turn of events, she placed her hand in his. “Where are we?”
“My place.”
She glanced around at what appeared to be an average concrete parking garage without the typical foul odors. Only five parking spaces were occupied, all of them with luxury vehicles. She recognized a sporty Porsche crossover in smoke gray and the sexy lines of a deep blue Lamborghini. She couldn’t name the other three without taking a closer look. Wherever they were, the neighbors were apparently as wealthy as Sam.
Her feet ached from the high heels as he led her toward an elevator in the corner. “Sam, I really should go.” If she slept without removing the heavy makeup on her face, she’d wake up looking like something from a bad horror movie. That would be mortifying and a certain end to their friendship, just in case lying about the marriage hadn’t done that already. “I need—”
The elevator doors parted automatically at their approach and she glanced around for the motion sensor, forgetting her protest.
“Intrigued?” His lips twitched in a smirk. “What do you need, Madison?” he asked, pulling out his phone.
You. Thankfully, she bit back that absurd, knee-jerk response. “My apartment,” she managed. “I’m sure your place is...” The elevator opened to a penthouse and the sparkling nighttime view of San Francisco stole her breath. “Oh, Sam.” She couldn’t stop herself from walking in, admiring everything in sight.
“You like it?”
It wasn’t anything she imagined his home might be. Not the casual mess that always surrounded his work space at school. Of course it wouldn’t be like that. He was a man now, a lauded expert at the top of his industry. The position obviously paid well. The furniture had a lived-in feel, modern, clean lines without feeling too stark or glossy or new. Nothing in her fantasies had prepared her for this, for seeing him in this kind of space. She could happily snuggle into the corner of that big couch next to Sam and forget there was a world out there that needed them.
Exasperated with herself, she wondered if anything would smother the torch she’d carried for him all this time. He’d never given her the first signal that he thought of her in a romantic way. Unlike his business partner, Rush, there was never a whisper of Sam having any romantic ties. Maybe that was why her heart was so stubbornly locked on to him.
She forced her gaze away from the stunning view and faced him. “I need to go home.” Staying here would be unbearable. He’d already commented on her lack of composure. “I need my space and my things.”
“Let me guess?” He started typing into his phone. “Toothbrush and toothpaste. Do you still prefer that striped brand you used when we were kids?”
“Pardon me?” How did he know what brand of toothpaste she’d used in high school?
“My bathroom is surely lacking.” He held out the phone to her. “Put in whatever you need and it will be here within the hour.”
“No.” It was closing in on one in the morning. She jerked her hands behind her back and clutched the handle of her briefcase. “No, thank you. Take me home, please.”
His gaze narrowed and his brown eyes were calculating something as he studied her from head to toe. His thumbs flew over the surface of his phone and then he pocketed the device.
Before she could react to that, he’d slipped a hand around her elbow. “Take off your shoes.”
“Take me home.”
His jaw clenched, but his touch remained gentle. “I didn’t blow your secret out of the water tonight, did I?”
“No.” She tried to smile. “I appreciate that more than I can say.”
“Thank me by listening for a minute. Your feet need a break from the shoes.”
“You can’t know that.” How did he know that?
“Take them off,” he said. “And follow me.”
She gave in, stifling a whimper when the cool hardwood floors soothed the soles of her feet. He guided her toward the kitchen, pausing to pull out two bottles of water. He opened both and handed her one. Without a word, he continued on toward an office.
