Читать книгу Road To Temptation - Terra Little - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Olivia was sprawled across Elise’s king-size bed with her feet waving in the air, lying in wait for Elise when she emerged from her walk-in closet with a packed Louis Vuitton carryall and her portable gun safe. “That delicious specimen downstairs,” she said, sitting up and announcing as soon as she spotted Elise, “is Broderick Malcolm Cannon.” She consulted the iPad in her hand and nodded in approval at what she saw on the glowing screen. “He’s thirty-seven, single and, according to the information that Eli was able to dig up on short notice, very financially solvent, which is always a plus in my book. Oh, and he owns Cannon Corp, which is apparently some sort of underground investigations firm with hush-hush assignments and a very high-level security clearance. Even Eli couldn’t find out much about it, but he did say that our Mr. Cannon has a reputation for being a bit of a beast in the field, so we can assume that he’s probably at least a little dangerous.” She paused to giggle delightfully. “And, hopefully, an animal in bed, which makes the fact that Eli didn’t find anything to support your theory that he could be a serial killer very good news. For you, I mean.” She set the iPad aside, looking pleased with herself until she noticed Elise’s incredulous look. “What? I’m sorry but he’s hot. Did you really expect me not to comment on it? What is it about fine men, exactly, that makes you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Elise said, lying through her teeth. She dropped her carryall on the upholstered bench at the foot of her bed, then plopped down next to it and unlocked the gun safe. Opening it, she took out a pearl-handled Ruger .38 pistol and began loading it. “What I am is pissed.” When she was done, she snapped the revolver into a leather holster and dropped it inside her tote. “I can’t believe I let the three of you talk me into this.” Badger was more like it but, whatever. Either way, the result was the same—she’d been ganged up on and guilted into hostile compliance. Adding an apologetic and pleading Joel to the mix via Skype had not only compounded the pressure that Olivia and Broderick had piled on her, but it had also been a stroke of evil genius on Olivia’s part. She was good, Elise had to give her that. Damn good. The traitor.

“Why can’t you believe it?” Olivia asked, and Elise didn’t buy the confused expression on her face for one second. “This is a perfect example of why you and I started Carrington Consulting in the first place, isn’t it? To help people? To help women? If you’d stop thinking about yourself for one second and think about the situation from Mr. Cannon’s perspective, you’d see that he’s really nothing more than just another client who’s in need of our services.”

“Let’s not forget that he’s just another client who, according to Eli, runs a very successful security firm of his own. If he handles the kinds of cases that you and Eli seem to think he does, then he probably has resources at his disposal that we’ve never even heard of. Doesn’t it seem a little strange to you that he needs my help? Why doesn’t he just put one of his minions on Meagan’s trail, so that he can deal with his other case without any interruptions?”

“Probably because, thanks to the little fender bender that you caused this afternoon, there isn’t time.”

“Of course there’s time,” Elise refuted, jumping up from the bench and throwing up her hands in outrage. When Olivia only smiled, she snatched up the safe and took off for the closet again, unable to shake the feeling that she was being hoodwinked and bamboozled. The more she thought about it, the more irritated she became. “Meanwhile,” she chirped in a voice that was somewhere near the soprano range, “don’t I get a say about how I choose to spend my time?” She brought a pair of jeans and a sweater out of the closet with her and dropped them on the bed.

“Of course, you do,” Olivia cooed.

“Except that, thanks to you and Mr. Chippendales down there, apparently, I don’t.” She shrugged out of her jumpsuit, tossed it on the bed and snatched up her jeans. “He doesn’t really need me and you know it. And stop calling him ‘Mr. Cannon.’ You’re such a suck-up.”

“Maybe so, but you have to admit that this arrangement makes sense. This way, if something does come up while you’re together, it’ll be easier and less time-consuming to deal with. Besides, it probably won’t even come to that because, thanks to Meagan’s obsession with social media, you already know that she’s in the Jefferson City area and has been for several hours. Once you two get there, you could drive from one end of that place to the other in, what, an hour or less? You’ll find her, toss her in the car with you and get back on the road,” Olivia predicted, waving a dismissive hand. “Trust me, you’ll be back here by this time tomorrow evening, if not before, at which time I will try very hard to refrain from saying ‘I told you so.’”

Elise paused in the midst of jumping into her jeans to glare at Olivia. “All right, then why don’t you go in my place?”

“I would, only I’m not the one he was down there seducing in his mind. You are.”

Elise’s sigh was long-suffering. “Why is everything about sex with you?” she asked, dropping a peach cable-knit sweater over her head and smoothing the hem around her denim-clad hips. “I think you need to see someone about that.”

“I think it’s cute that you think that,” Olivia shot back. “The question is, why is nothing ever about sex with you? My God, Elise, loosen up a little, would you? He was flirting with you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you just now and you didn’t even seem to notice. How long has it been since you’ve been out on a date, because this could be a prime opportunity for you to—”

“Are you serious right now, Olivia?”

“Oh, come on. Tell me you don’t find him attractive and I’ll shut up.”

Elise was instantly conflicted. Despite the fact that she and Olivia were opposites in more ways than they were alike, they couldn’t be closer. Even when they were at each other’s throats, they’d always been as thick as thieves, partners in crime in whatever nefarious scheme that one or the other had masterminded. If there were secrets between them, Elise couldn’t think of very many, and, if there was a subject that was or had ever been off-limits, it didn’t immediately come to mind. Under different circumstances, keeping the fact that she was attracted to a man from Olivia wouldn’t even occur to her. It wasn’t like she’d never been pursued by a man or been interested in one, and, contrary to what Olivia seemed to believe, she had actually dated twice as many men as she’d ever slept with. Which wasn’t saying much, but, still. It was just easier for both of them if Olivia didn’t know every single detail of her sex life. Like the fact that she’d just turned thirty-three and had only ever had three lovers. She knew her sister, and, in Olivia’s hands, information like that would die a very slow and painful death.

Did she find Broderick Cannon attractive? Of course she did. What red-blooded woman in her right mind wouldn’t? But that was another little nugget of information that Olivia didn’t need to know because, with it, she’d have the power to drive Elise crazy.

“Okay, yes,” Elise reluctantly conceded. “He’s attractive. But that’s not the point. This isn’t a date.” She snatched up a pair of silver hoops from her dressing table and put them on, then reached for her watch. “This is me being tricked into riding off into the night with a man that I barely know. Which reminds me, in the event that I’m never seen or heard from again, do me a favor and tell Mom and Dad that I did love them, no matter what you always said to them behind my back.” Olivia was giggling way too hard for Elise’s taste. “I’m glad you think I’m so amusing.”

“Not amusing, just in dire need of some serious loosening up. You do know that we’re not in high school anymore, right? There are no more midterms and finals to study for. It’s okay to have a life now.” She caught the distressed look on Elise’s face in the dressing-table mirror and launched into a full-fledged laugh. “Hey, I’m just trying to save you from a future filled with a bunch of cats and a house that looks like a shoe.”

“Yeah, well, as long as this shoe house of mine has a heated pool and local pizza delivery, I’m good.” She stepped into tan pumps and grabbed her cell phone from the dressing table as soon as it rang.

“I’m just saying. No one would blame you if you let your hair down a little...for once. I can’t think of a better way to kick off a vacation than with hot, sweaty sex. Milk isn’t the only thing that does a body good, you know.”

Relieved to see Eli Seamus’s name flashing on her cell’s screen, Elise touched an icon to accept the call and put the phone to her ear. She covered the mouthpiece, hissed at Olivia to shut up and, when she didn’t, waved a hand for her to at least quiet down. “Eli,” she said into the phone. “Hi, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Please tell me you found something helpful.”

Nearby, Olivia murmured something about seeing her downstairs. After nodding, she listened to what Eli had to say.

As soon as she’d been able to pry herself away from the dynamic duo downstairs, she had excused herself to her room to change clothes and pack an overnight bag. But first, she’d called Eli and shared what little case information there was with him, hoping that he’d be able to pin down Meagan’s exact whereabouts quickly enough to eliminate the need for a partnership and, even worse, a road trip. But, as she listened to Eli’s report, she realized that there was no way out, at least not yet, anyway. He agreed to stay on top of things and let her know if something interesting popped up but, in the meantime, it looked like she was stuck playing Robin to Broderick Cannon’s Batman.

Dammit.

Resigned to her temporary fate, Elise emerged from her bedroom ten minutes later, ready to get the show on the road. She found Olivia and Broderick in the study, sitting close together, with their heads bent even closer and their voices hushed. “I’m ready if you are,” she announced, interrupting their nearly nose-to-nose exchange. Their heads flew up guiltily, as if they’d been caught sharing government secrets. Trying not to scowl, Elise slung her tote strap over her shoulder and looked from one face to the other. She wasn’t jealous. Really, she wasn’t. But, damn, did Olivia ever turn it off? “Shall we go?” she asked, glancing at her watch meaningfully and then pinning Broderick with another look. He rose from the couch slowly, smirking. Was he really smirking?

“Of course. After you.”

* * *

“Truth or dare?”

She turned away from the passenger-side window and looked at him like she was surprised to see him sitting in the driver’s seat. “What?”

“I said, truth or dare?”

It was almost ten o’clock at night, and they’d been driving in complete silence for an hour. A few miles back, at around the halfway point, the Hummer’s GPS navigation system had routed them away from the interstate and onto an isolated stretch of paved service road that weaved through several miles of pitch-black farmland. It would eventually lead to a rural road in Jefferson County, and, shortly afterward, they would enter Jefferson City limits via a small residential community on the south end of town. But not for at least another three thousand six hundred seconds, which, in Broderick’s estimation, was just about enough time for the spicy, exotic fragrance clinging to Elise’s skin to finish driving him crazy.

Every time he inhaled, he was transported back in time to a mission in Bangkok, to a smoky massage den in the red-light district, and a 3:00 a.m. curfew that he’d taken his punishment for missing with a sleepy, satisfied smile. Every exhale was an irritating little reminder that it had been five months since he’d known anything close to that kind of satisfaction.

Something had to be done and, unfortunately, Truth or Dare? was the first PG-rated solution that came to mind. It wasn’t the best idea that he’d ever come up with but a distraction was in order and at least this one would end the ridiculous silence between them. Or not, he thought as the light cast by the dashboard console illuminated the doubtful smirk on her face.

“I’m not playing a silly game with you, Mr. Cannon.”

He bit down on a smirk of his own and cocked a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“No, I’m not afraid and I’m not ten, either, so your peer-pressure tactics won’t work on me.”

He glanced over at her and then took his eyes to the rearview mirror. “You sure about that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Then prove it,” he challenged, catching her eyes for one tense second and then winking at her. “Play with me.”

“No.” Crossing her arms underneath her breasts, she shifted in her seat until her both her knees and her nose were pointed toward the passenger-side window. She looked like a proper nineteenth-century schoolmarm, except that he was 99 percent sure that she wasn’t wearing any panties underneath her skintight jeans, and, if he stood over her at just the right angle, he could see down the front of her sweater. Her breasts were freckled, too, and bubbling out of the top of her bra in a way that was anything but proper.