“What’s the matter, boyo?”
“Otis, the girl’s kind of a problem.”
“Which girl? The companion?”
“Yeah. She’s too smart. I think she’s onto me. I’ve been kind of saying dumb-ass stuff. I feel like I’m going to blow it. I’m coming off like some kind of scumbag nerd.”
“Really? That’s a new one.”
“Come on, man. I told you I was out of my element here. I am what I am. I have zero class, dude. You can’t make a silk purse--”
“You just have to remember your training. I think you have to start thinking with your brain and not what’s between your legs. I can arrange to get rid of her for a while.”
“I’ll kill you if you arrange anything where she’s concerned.”
“Really? And why would that be? Anything to do with that foster home you used to live in?”
Rob sighed. “You know.”
“You think we’re stupid, boyo? This has been a test of sorts. See if you can pass it. Want to go back to jail, kid? I can arrange it. When will you be checking in again?”
In professional mode, Rob said, “If nothing big happens, it’ll be a few days. And I don’t expect anything big to happen. I think what we have here are weird rich folks and a pair of screwed-up, spoiled, not-so-smart kids who are waiting for the big windfall. The insurance claims on the cars may just have been a run of bad luck like Todd Connors claimed they were. I don’t really believe that Connors was involved with Vasco in a business sense at all.”
“You’ve been wrong before.”
“Yeah, I sure have,” Rob agreed. “That’s putting it bluntly, Otis. Go home and go to bed before your wife gets pissed at you.”
~ * ~
When she heard the ruckus downstairs Riley was in the midst of one of those strange and unsettling dreams that come hand in hand with mental fatigue and a kind of frustration she’d rather not name.
She didn’t want to go down there to check out what the hell was going on, but went anyway, finding Robert and Todd in the dimly lit kitchen. The first thing she noticed when she walked in and flipped on the upper banks of lights was Rob’s impressive bare chest, bedecked with a silver pendant of some kind. It hung between impressive pecs, winking like a hypnotist’s amulet.
Thankfully she was distracted quickly from the spectacle of his chest by the sight of Todd. “My God! Were you in a car accident?” she asked.
“I fell face first down a flight of stairs,” he muttered.
“You look like you ought to be in the hospital.” Riley looked up at Rob who was in the process of wetting a tea towel at the kitchen sink. “Don’t you think he should get this checked by doctor?”
“He says he’s okay. As far as I can see, he’s not concussed,” replied Rob.
“I’m fine,” Todd insisted. He almost flew out of his chair when Rob applied the cold, wet towel to his cheek. One of his eyebrows was split open and his mouth and nose were still trickling blood. There was no way a simple fall down a staircase had done that.
“I’ve seen Fight Club. I know when a guy’s been hammered in the face. Don’t you think the police should be called?” Riley demanded.
“Why? To arrest the staircase?” Rob replied smugly.
“There’s no need to be a smart ass,” Riley bristled. “Don’t tell me you believe him?”
“What are the police going to do? He says he’ll handle this himself. I don’t think he has any broken bones. Maybe a cracked rib.”
“What if his spleen ruptures?” Riley asked smugly.
“Then it ruptures and he croaks.” Rob shrugged and grinned down at Todd. Todd was looking physically ill. “Right, kid?”
“Mary’s going to freak out about this,” Riley said.
“Jane, I don’t need you--” Todd hissed as Rob applied ice to his brow. “--tattling to my grandmother.”
“Mary doesn’t need to know. Todd’s going to lay low for a few days. Take a bit of a vacation or something.”
“Fine...” Riley lifted her chin. “Well, thank goodness Robert was here. He’s proved himself invaluable once again. I’ll leave you fellows to conspire alone now. Don’t forget to clean the blood off the floor. Alice won’t like it.”
~ * ~
Later, unable to sleep, Riley watched from her window as Rob crossed the yard, returning to the kitchen from Todd’s suite above the stables. Riley slipped on her robe again and found him in the kitchen cleaning the blood spatters off the kitchen floor. He wielded a mop with expertise, she observed, not exactly what one would expect of a pampered Eastern society-bred man. If she didn’t know better she’d believe he’d done a stint swabbing decks.
Rob, thank goodness, had slipped on the white shirt he’d worn at dinner. It was still open and the tails flapped around his lean hips. He rested on the mop handle, gazed at her for a long moment, then flashed that devastating smile.
“What are you up to, Rob?” she asked from the doorway.
“It looks like I’m mopping the floor.”
“You know what I mean. What’s going on?”
Rob raised a dark brow.
“I thought you had sense. You’re in the insurance business, right? Isn’t it better to have this trouble with Todd checked out, just in case there are any legal ramifications?”
“He got the piss knocked out of him, Riley. That’s about it.” He gave the floor another swipe, slopping water over the bucket. He set the mop against the counter. “Todd said it had to do with a fight over some stripper at a bar. Okay? He doesn’t want anyone to know. I suggest we let him handle it. And let him face the consequences. I figure the kid’s had too many people fighting his battles. He has to grow up sometime.”
Riley let out a deep sigh. She couldn’t really argue with that. “Is Belinda home?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since dinner,” he said. “Why the interest in Belinda’s whereabouts?”
She stiffened. Did he think she was jealous? “I thought the two of you might have gone clubbing.”
Rob said nothing about that. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“No, Thanks. Alcohol never helps me sleep. I’ll just go back to my room.”
“Maybe something warm?”
Riley hesitated but agreed. “I’ll make tea if you want to finish that floor.”
They both went to their tasks. Rob watched her as she made the tea, wishing she wasn’t the naturally suspicious type. The last thing in the world he needed was to get the police involved. The cops might find out that Todd had a hand gun in his jacket pocket. Rob hadn’t mentioned noticing it to Todd, but the gun made things one hell of a lot more interesting. The kid was in trouble of some kind, though the ass-kicking seemed a little unsubtle for Vasco’s exacting standards.
It wasn’t clear to Rob who’d kicked Todd’s ass or why. He figured if he could ingratiate himself a little further into Todd’s good graces, he might get a little more information. It was going to get him a lot further than romancing that twit Belinda. That was like communing with a bag of doorknobs.
He just hoped someone didn’t finish the job on Todd before he could get a few names. He was a little miffed at Riley for interrupting, but looking at her in that body-skimming silk robe and wondering what she had on beneath it had pushed this mess in the back of his mind.
She carried tea and a bottle of Grand Marnier to the table, leaning a bit to place a cup in front of him. He caught the scent of something light and floral, maybe her bath soap. Rob had to fight an all pervading desire to take her in his arms, to slant his mouth over hers. “Thanks.” He sloshed the liqueur liberally into his china mug of steaming tea. “Want some?”
She bit her lip, aggravating his libido further. “Oh, why not? Want some chocolate chip cookies? I know where the cook keeps the stash.”
He remembered the night they’d made love in that trailer in old Farley’s yard: the night that had been the beginning and the end for them. “Okay,” he muttered. “C
areful crossing the floor there. It’s pretty wet.”
She avoided the wet spot to get the cookies. Her hands shook a little opening the bag. Rob ate several cookies just to fill the void in the conversation. He didn’t know what to say to her. He wanted to steer this impromptu tête-à-tête away from the subject of Todd, but he knew her mind was on what had happened. Riley was like a dog with a ham bone when she was worried about something.
“Don’t worry about this, Riley. Todd’s just kind of a goof, isn’t he? No doubt he’s been in trouble before,” Rob assured her.
“He’s a spoiled brat. He needs to take care of himself.”
“True. Maybe he should get his own first-aid kit for the guesthouse,” Rob said with a chuckle. “Maybe he could hire a buxom nurse.”
She smiled at that, wrapping her fingers around the mug. “Why was it that you were still awake and heard him come in?” she asked.
“I had a new bed to get used to. I’m sort of an insomniac. These cookies are good,” he said taking another cookie. “Chocolate chip’s my downfall.”
“I like my homemade ones best. Angela won’t let me in the kitchen except on her day off. Lately I forget to make them. These are from a bakery on Commercial Drive
.”
“Do you make cookies for guys you like?”
She frowned at him. He wished he knew what she was thinking. “I did once. He didn’t deserve them.”
“Guess I’m out of luck then.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t say that.”
Rob popped the last bite of his cookie into his mouth.
The man really was impressive, Riley thought again.
And she really had to let this go. He talked for a while, telling her about the cities he’d been and where they had the best cookies. He had an affinity for Mrs. Fields. The best cookies he’d ever eaten he’d had in New York, at some little bakery on the Upper East Side.
“Do you think we should check on Todd? Just in case?” she asked later.
“He’ll live,” Rob said.
Riley sighed. “Then I’d best get back to bed. I think you may have put a little too much booze in my tea. I never drink.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve had a lot of substance abusers in my family. That’s why it’s hard to see Todd behave this way. He has everything going for him and he chooses to waste it all. Do you want me to do the dishes?”
Rob smiled in his easy way. “I’ll do it. I know how to load a dishwasher. I can also do laundry, shut the lid of a toilet seat and cap the toothpaste.”
“Wow. You’re going to make some woman very happy one day.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” he said huskily.
She gave herself a mental shake and got quickly to her feet. “On that note, I’ll say goodnight, Robert. Hope you get some sleep.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. He’d been looking at her legs. She was pretty certain of that and she couldn’t help but be flattered.
She walked two steps across the ceramic tile floor before her foot slid in something: a puddle of water that Rob had left when he was mopping.
Nine
Rob leapt up from the table, but it was too late. Her feet went out from under her, landing her on her butt in the wet patch.
“Oh, cripes. Riley, are you okay?” Rob said, crouching over her.
She gritted her teeth. “Guess you should stop bragging about your domestic skills.” She yanked her robe back over her bare legs, which were bent akimbo. She figured he could probably tell her what color her panties were. Thank God she was wearing them. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I can do it myself,” she growled.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Jane, just let me help--” He tried to help her to her feet, his hands under her armpits. His knuckles brushed the side of her breast. She stiffened, the wet floor hindering her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. “Let me do this. This is so--”
“This is perfect.” Rob pulled her up to her feet, right into his arms. “I couldn’t have planned this better.”
Riley swallowed, looking up at his mouth. Her hands were splayed over his hair-dusted chest and she wondered why they weren’t at least cooperating by pushing him away. She could feel the flutter of his heart through his warm skin.
“I should--” Riley didn’t know what she should do. She knew too damned well what she shouldn’t. She dropped one hand, but it grazed his hard, bare stomach on the way down, setting off a lightening reaction in her body.
Oh, boy...
Maybe it was just heightened olfactory nerves, but his subtle cologne--if it was cologne--ought to be branded a deadly weapon to female defenses at this close range. She had to get as far away from him as she could, get back to her room, maybe indulge in a cold shower. Maybe don a dress of sackcloth, something appropriate for a martyr.
She looked down at his chest, so very close to hers--a big mistake. He was breathing hard. His nipples were beaded hard as pearls. It was cold in the kitchen. That was all it was, she told herself, not some crazy sexual electricity that arced between them.
He gazed down into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“God, sweetheart, you certainly are.” Robert smiled, slowly lowering his dark head. She knew what was coming and she told herself she ought to push him off and get out of there in a big hurry. This was not good. Not good at all, but her brain didn’t seem to be connected to her body at the moment. Her body seemed an entity all on its own and it knew exactly what it wanted to do.
Robert pressed a light kiss to her forehead, brushing his lips over her temple, then the curve of her cheek, making her shiver. She should have moved right then, just let that be enough, but Riley closed her eyes and the next thing she knew Rob’s warm, commanding mouth had covered hers in a kiss that sizzled a searing path all the way to her toes.
Riley found herself sliding her palms up over the taut muscles of his chest, through fine, dark hair covering warm skin, her hands cupping his wide shoulders beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.
The kiss grew more intense, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips; Riley’s hand slid up further, curling at the nape of his neck to grasp his hair.
Oh, God, she thought crazily, he tasted so good. Faintly like toothpaste and tea and chocolate and a delicious flavor all his own. He made her body ache with need, every limb suddenly weak and trembling. She wanted to take him up to her room or follow him to his, damn the consequences.
The sound of someone clearing her throat broke the spell.
Riley wrenched herself out of Rob’s hold, staring up at the intruder. It was Belinda Connors and she was dressed to the nines in a back leather halter top, matching hipster pants and stiletto heeled boots. Right in fashion for a Vancouver glam girl. She made Britney Spears look tame. Riley suddenly experienced a surge of resentment and envy that appalled her.
“Hi,” Belinda drawled. “What’s going on here?”
“A little midnight snacking,” Rob announced.
Riley gave him a look that could have peeled paint.
“Whatever,” Belinda said, tilting her head, obviously amused. “I was looking for you, Robert. I went to your room but you weren’t there.”
He cleared his throat. “Oh?”
“I wanted to know if you’d take me to a party.” She gave Robert a sexy little smile.
“It’s a little late to be leaving for a party, isn’t it?” Riley asked.
“Maybe for some people,” Belinda said looking pointedly at Riley. “Robert’s sophisticated enough to know that people don’t turn into pumpkins at midnight. As a matter-of-fact, midnight’s when everything gets fun.” She walked over to the table, picked up a cookie and extracted a chocolate chip. She nibbled at it. “Have you two seen Todd tonight?” she asked.
“I think Todd said that he worked late tonight. He was beat and went up t
o bed.” Rob told her.
Beat? Riley almost giggled out loud.
“My brother worked late? That has to be a joke.”
“Why would you even want to know?” Riley asked bluntly.
Belinda shrugged a tanned, glittered shoulder. “I ran into some mutual friends who wanted me to say hi to him. They wondered how he was doing lately. That’s about it, if it’s any of your business.”
“You’re quite right, Belinda. It isn’t my business. I ought to remember my place,” Riley said, and with that excused herself and walked out, mindful this time of the still slippery floor. She couldn’t even bear to make eye-contact with Rob. Even without looking at him she could feel those perceptive, near-black eyes blazing a path to her soul.
~ * ~
“You’ve got to do this for me,” she hissed at Craig the next evening.
Craig flashed a smile. He was draped like a bad, half-naked bordello painting over the massive leather couch. “I can only show him lofts if he wants to see them, Rye. I can’t force people to use my services.”
“Robert Murphy needs to look at lofts. He said he wanted to about a week ago. Please. Just call him.”
Riley pulled her legs up onto the seat of her chair and hugged her knees. She took another sip of her almost full bottle of beer. It was totally unlike her to drink the gruesome stuff but she was stressed out about Robert Murphy. She’d even had to tell Mary that she wanted to take her vacation at the beginning of next week because she couldn’t stand it any longer.
Now she had to scramble to make sure that she was organized enough to continue her search for her sister. She had this feeling it was all going to be a colossal waste of time, as usual. She was going to try to conduct the actual search in Washington State this time. Mary had told her she could use a cabin she owned not far from Mount Baker, so she didn’t have to squander money for a motel. And if she found anything she wouldn’t have that far to travel.
It was the aloneness she wanted.
‘Cabin’ was not really the word Riley would use to describe Mary’s place. From the pictures Mary had shown her, it was more like a log mansion. It had once been Todd’s favorite place to go with his grandmother. The stories Mary told about his antics, his love for nature and animals, made Riley almost want to like the hyper little kid Todd had been. Belinda had hated going there because Mary refused to get satellite television, of all reasons. Apparently her son, Blake, couldn’t stand the place either when he was alive.
B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart Page 12