A Guilty Affair

by Maureen Smith

  And she’d slept with him.

  “Maybe it’s not so much what you did or didn’t say about Noah,” Lety elaborated. “It was the way you were around him. Slightly uncomfortable. A little on edge. For example, I remember being at Trevor’s birthday party and watching you go out of your way not to walk past Noah and the woman he’d brought as his date.”

  Riley gave a dispassionate shrug. “So maybe I was trying to avoid her. I seem to recall most of us thinking she was a bit of an airhead. Whatever happened to her, anyway?” she asked offhandedly. “Did she and Noah date for very long after I left town?”

  Lety snorted. “Of course not. You know that bimbo couldn’t hold the interest of a man like Noah Roarke. Neither could most of the women he’s dated since then. Although,” Lety said thoughtfully, tapping a manicured finger against her upper lip, “there was that one woman he stayed with for a long time.”

  Riley was surprised by how hard her heart was pounding. “How long?”

  “Several months—at least five, I think. Her name was Kimberly and she worked in the District Attorney’s Office. Smart, really pretty. From what I heard, she was absolutely crazy about Noah and was just waiting for him to pop the question.”

  Riley’s throat felt inexplicably tight. “So what happened?”

  Lety shrugged. “They broke up. According to what Kimberly told other people, Noah had ‘serious commitment issues ’and seemed to be holding out for a ‘perfect woman that doesn’t exist.’ As you can tell, she was pretty bitter about the whole thing. And who could blame her? Noah Roarke’s quite a catch. He’s caring, intelligent, has a great sense of humor, runs his own successful business. Not to mention that he’s fine as hell.” She chuckled, shaking her head at Riley. “You’re the only woman I know who seems to be immune to what a total package he is.”

  Little do you know, Riley thought, taking a sip of her white Zinfandel. She wondered what Lety would say if she knew Riley had spent the night making love to Noah, sobbing his name and doing unspeakable things with him.

  “Anyway,” Lety said with a mischievous grin that made Riley wonder for a panicked moment if she’d read her mind, “I figure now that you’re back in town, you can help a sista out.”

  “Sure. With what?”

  “Now that you’re working closely with Noah, you can put in a good word for me.”

  Riley stared at her in confusion. “You want to work at the agency?”

  Lety laughed. “No, silly! Girl, you’ve been out of the game for too long. I wasn’t talking about getting a job with Noah. I want you to hook me up with him.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I want you to get him to ask me out on a date.”

  Riley shook her head quickly, maybe too quickly. “I can’t do that.”

  Lety scowled. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m terrible at matchmaking. Just ask any of my old friends from college. Every time I tried to play matchmaker for them—which I’ll admit wasn’t often—it turned out to be a disaster.”

  Lety grinned. “Well, we’re not in college anymore, and I’m sure your matchmaking skills have improved since then.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “Come on, Riley. You’ve known Noah for years, longer than you’ve known me. And even though you say you’ve never been close to him, you could definitely tell me what his likes and dislikes are, what he looks for in a woman and what turns him off.”

  “Says who?” Riley sputtered.

  Lety gave her a look. “He was your fiancé’s best friend. Between what Trevor must have told you about Noah, and what you observed yourself, I think it’s safe to assume you know him pretty well.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Noah Roarke was an enigma, a man she’d never understood or pretended to understand. Before kissing her senseless last week, he’d scarcely ever touched her. And now that they’d become lovers, she had a feeling he would remain a mystery to her. He, like her, probably regretted what they had done last night. He was too noble, too devoted to Trevor’s memory, to make light of the transgression they’d committed. To cope with his own guilt, she could see him pushing her even further away.

  That, she realized, was an incredibly depressing thought.

  Lety was watching her carefully over the rim of her wineglass. “If you don’t think Noah would be interested in me—”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just—” The thought of him with another woman, any woman, makes me feel slightly ill. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. “Tell you what,” she said aloud. “I’ll bring up your name to Noah. If he seems receptive, I’ll start talking you up. Subtly, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lety agreed with a sly grin. “But not so subtly that he doesn’t get the message that I’m available.”

  Riley chuckled, glancing at her watch. “Of course. Anyway, I’ve gotta head back to the office. It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Lety said, signaling for the waiter. She shook her head as Riley pulled out her credit card. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch is on me.”

  “Oh, girl, you don’t have to—”

  “I know, but I want to. Consider it a small homecoming gift. Besides, it’s the least I can do for the woman who may be hooking me up with my future husband.”

  Riley could only muster a weak smile.

  Ten minutes later, as she drove back to Roarke Investigations, she realized that it had never occurred to Lety that Riley might be interested in Noah.

  Which is as it should be.

  When Riley arrived at the office, she was unprepared for the sight of Janie, Kenneth and Noah huddled around Janie’s computer in the reception area. All three glanced up in unison as she approached the large desk.

  “Hey Riley,” Janie and Kenneth greeted her cheerfully.

  “Hey y’all.” Her eyes met and held Noah’s for a prolonged moment before sliding away. Striving for a normal tone that would mask the sudden quaking in her knees, she asked, “What’re you guys watching on the computer?”

  “Daniela e-mailed some photos from Italy,” Janie answered.

  “Looks like she and Caleb are really having a nice time on their honeymoon,” Kenneth added.

  “Nice? Try incredibly, unbelievably romantic. They’re taking moonlit gondola rides in Venice, exploring lush, beautiful vineyards in Tuscany, touring ancient cathedrals and museums in Florence. Oh, look, here’s a photo of Michelangelo’s David!” Janie sat back in her chair and heaved a long, plaintive sigh. “All right, I admit it. I’m jealous.”

  Chuckling, Noah clapped his brother on the back. “Looks like you’d better start calling travel agents.”

  Janie tilted back her head and batted her long eyelashes at her husband. “Well, now that I think about it, our anniversary is coming up in August….”

  Kenneth scowled good-naturedly. “Damn that Caleb Thorne.”

  Smiling at the couple, Riley left the reception area and headed down the corridor to her office. She’d barely sat down behind the desk when Noah materialized. Dressed entirely in black—his surveillance attire, as she’d learned—he struck a negligent pose in the doorway, propping a shoulder against the door frame and folding his arms across his wide, muscular chest.

  He didn’t speak for several moments, his dark, hooded eyes roaming across her face as if he were trying to reconcile the coolly aloof woman before him with the passionate lover who’d writhed in his arms the night before. If Riley had anything to say about it, he would never see that side of her—the wanton side—again.

  “Did you have a productive day?” he murmured.

  She nodded briskly. “I took plenty of notes from the court hearing I attended this morning. I’ll go over everything with you and Kenneth whenever you’re available. Also, I typed up the minutes from Friday’s meeting with Delilah Stanton and left it on your desk while you were out yesterday. Did you see it?”

  “I did,” he said softly. “Thank you, Riley.”


  She faltered for a moment, at a loss for words. Seeing her reaction, his lips curved in an ironic smile. “Contrary to what you might think of me as a boss, I do know how to show my appreciation when it’s deserved.”

  “Good to know.” Clearing her throat, she pointedly shuffled papers on her desk. “Was there anything else you wanted? If not, I have a lot of work to do before I leave at five.”

  “Actually,” Noah murmured, “I do want something from you.”

  The way he said it, in that low, silky baritone, made Riley’s pulse accelerate. As carnal images rolled through her mind, she strove to maintain her composure. “What is it?”

  “I want you to go out on surveillance with me this afternoon.”

  “What? Why?”

  He chuckled softly at her stricken expression. “Because my brother thinks it’s time for you to be shown the ropes.”

  “But…today?”

  He lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Today’s as good a day as any.”

  “Not really. Like I said, I have a ton of work to do and—”

  “Riley.”

  “What?”

  There was a hint of steel beneath the smile he gave her. “It wasn’t a request.”

  Riley opened her mouth to protest, then snapped it shut, opting to glare at him instead.

  Unfazed, he chuckled again and slowly straightened from the doorway. “Be ready to go in half an hour.”

  With that, he turned and sauntered from the room.

  When Riley climbed into the nondescript sedan parked outside the office building thirty minutes later, she was still seething with indignation. She didn’t appreciate being manhandled by Noah, boss or not. It was a rather bad habit of his that would have to be nipped in the bud.

  He was speaking quietly on the cell phone and barely glanced at her as she slid into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. He started the car and backed out of the parking space, and within minutes they were headed north on I-35.

  “Sorry about that,” Noah said as he got off the phone. “Anxious client.”

  Riley nodded shortly. “Where, exactly, are we going?”

  “To Joseph Stanton’s workplace. He’s supposed to get off at four. We’re gonna tail him to see if he goes straight home.”

  Despite her annoyance with Noah, Riley couldn’t help feeling a twinge of excitement at the idea of being on her first surveillance assignment. It was the same rush she felt when chasing a hot lead for one of her stories.

  Noah’s mouth twitched as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I figured you might change your tune about accompanying me once we were out on the road,” he drawled.

  Riley scowled. “That doesn’t excuse your high-handedness, Noah. Just for the record, you don’t have to order me around to get what you want.”

  He inclined his head slightly. “You’re right.” Before Riley could gloat over the concession, he added, “Next time I’ll just pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and carry you out to the car.”

  Riley gasped. Without thinking, she reached over and punched him on the arm.

  “Ouch! Hey, you can’t hit me. I’m your boss.”

  “So fire me!” she hissed.

  Noah looked at her, took in the ferocious expression on her face, then threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  Huffing out a sigh of disgust, Riley crossed her arms and leaned back in the seat. But she wasn’t entirely immune to the rumble of his deep, husky laughter, and it wasn’t long before she found herself fighting the tug of a grin.

  When Noah’s mirth had subsided, he shook his head and smiled at her. “You’re priceless, Riley Kane. I never knew you had such a temper.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s a lot about me you don’t know,” she grumbled.

  “True enough.” Their eyes met briefly, then slid away.

  Silence stretched between them until Noah reached over and turned up the volume on the CD player. As John Coltrane’s “I Want to Talk About You” filled the interior of the car, Riley was flooded with vivid memories of coupling frantically with Noah on the pool table with the seductive wail of the sax in the background. As heat pooled in her belly, she clamped her thighs together and turned her face to the window.

  Soon Noah exited onto a busy downtown street and parked two blocks down from a small glass office building.

  “Stanton is a maintenance worker for the property-management company located inside that building,” Noah explained as he threw the car in Park, cut the engine and buzzed down the windows to let in a cool summer breeze. “He drives a beige Chrysler three hundred with tags that read NO AVG JOE, so he shouldn’t be hard to spot. He gets off at four, so we’ve got another twenty-five minutes to wait for him to pull out from the rear parking lot.”

  Riley nodded, peering through the windshield. “Should we get closer?” At Noah’s vaguely amused look, she clarified, “To the building, I mean.”

  “I know what you meant, and no, we shouldn’t get any closer. We don’t wanna risk detection.”

  “Do you think Joseph Stanton knows his wife has hired a private investigator?”

  “It’s possible,” Noah said, leaning back in his seat. “I always advise my clients not to do anything to alert their spouses to the fact that they’re being investigated. Don’t change your habits, don’t ask too many questions about their activities, and never, ever, threaten to hire an investigator.”

  “Shouldn’t that last one be obvious?”

  “You’d be amazed how many people, especially women, blurt out threats like that in the middle of a heated argument. It makes it that much harder for us to monitor a cheating spouse who already suspects he—or she—is being watched.”

  “No kidding,” Riley murmured. Absently she reached inside her purse and dug out a box of Hot Tamales, which she held out to Noah. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.” He grinned as she began munching on the cinnamon-flavored candy. “You look like you’re sitting courtside at a Spurs game. Are you enjoying this, Riley?”

  “Not really. Are you?”

  “About as much as I’d enjoy a root canal.” At her surprised look, he said grimly, “Believe it or not, domestic surveillance cases are my least favorite. I hate having to break the news to my client that their spouse is indeed cheating, especially when you throw children into the equation. It’s a lose-lose situation for everyone involved.”

  Riley observed his stony profile. “So why do you take domestic surveillance cases if you hate them so much?”

  A shadow of cynicism touched his mouth. “It’s part of the services we offer. And, yes, it helps pay the damn bills.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging you.” She smiled ruefully. “There were times, back when I was at the Houston Chronicle, that I hated being an investigative reporter. I had to be pushy and obnoxious just to get the scoop, which meant I often crossed the line and intruded on people’s lives at a time when they needed their privacy the most, like after they’d suffered a devastating tragedy.” Idly she ran a finger down the pleat of her cream-colored slacks. “I’ve never told anyone this, and I’ll kill you if you breathe a word to anyone, but there were days I used to go home and cry myself to sleep because I felt so horrible about the kind of work I did.”

  Noah had stopped staring through the windshield and was now watching her quietly.

  “It’s true,” Riley said with a shaky little laugh. “I was a barracuda reporter by day and a weeping willow by night. And then one day I received a letter from this sixteen-year-old girl whose parents had been murdered a year earlier. She told me that my articles on the murders had helped the police solve the case and find the real killer. She actually thanked me for being such a good reporter. Can you believe it?”

  “I can,” Noah said softly. “You are a good reporter.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “I keep that letter in a special place in my office. Every time I begin to question the integrity of what I do, I pull out the letter and r
ead it over and over again until I feel better.” Her smile softened. “And wouldn’t you know it? That sixteen-year-old girl is now a prelaw major at Howard University in Washington, D.C. We get together once a month for lunch or a trip to a museum or to see a play. She’s like the little sister I never had.”

  When she’d finished speaking, Noah said huskily, “That’s an incredible story, Riley.”

  “I think so, too.” She laughed, waving a hand beneath her eyes. “Okay, you have to stop looking at me like that, Noah, or I’m going to embarrass myself by blubbering like an idiot. And then you’d never take me on another surveillance assignment.”

  He chuckled softly, but glanced away as she’d asked.

  After a few moments, Riley said, “What percentage of your clients’ spouses are actually proved to be cheaters?”

  “Hmm. About eighty-five percent of the men, less than forty-percent of the women. But we don’t get a lot of husbands wanting to investigate their wives, so those numbers are skewed.”

  Riley nodded, leaning her head back on the headrest and studying him from beneath her eyelashes. “But I’m sure it still holds true that men are more likely to cheat than women.”

  “That’s probably an accurate assessment.”

  “Why do you think that is, Noah? Why do men cheat?”

  His mouth twitched. “I can’t speak on behalf of all men, Riley.”

  “All right, then. Speak on your own behalf. Have you ever cheated on a woman?”

  He scowled. “Can we please concentrate on keeping an eye out for Stanton?”

  She chuckled. “We have fifteen more minutes. And you’re avoiding my question. Have you ever cheated on a woman, Noah?”

  He turned his head slowly to meet her curious gaze. “Not intentionally.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” he said softly, “you can cheat on your girlfriend without ever touching another woman. You can cheat in your heart by wanting something else—someone else—and not being fully committed to the person you’re with.”

  As Riley stared at him, she wondered if he was thinking about Kimberly, the woman he’d dated for five months, according to Lety. Had he had an affair of the heart that led to his breakup with Kimberly? Was that what she’d meant when she told others Noah was holding out for a perfect woman that didn’t exist?