by Rae Rivers
“Alex.” Cole moved closer. “You’re bleeding.”
Alex looked down at her side. Her wound had started bleeding sometime during the evening and had seeped through the dressing and her blouse, settling into a big telltale red stain.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He stood directly in front of her, his body almost touching hers, and she tilted her head to look at him. “I just need a clean dressing.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I have to go.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a whispered curse. “It was you. The night of the auction it was you.”
****
“Ouch, that hurts!” Alex winced as Cole dabbed alcohol on her wound. She sat on the kitchen table with Cole positioned on a chair in front of her, the first aid kit spread out beside them.
Cole silenced her with a glare, his hand pausing over her wound. The bullet had grazed past her, missing her by a fraction but close enough to scrape away a large portion of skin. He didn’t know what annoyed him more—that she hadn’t told him about her involvement in the burglary, or that she’d been hurt. “Serves you right.”
“Remind me never to save you again.”
He dabbed the wound. “Why haven’t you had this checked out yet?”
“It was on my list but—ouch! Will you stop that?”
“Tell me again why you followed me home the night of the auction.”
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“I noticed the cat casing you out at Christie’s and I saw him follow your limo. I suspected he was pulling a job and was after the Renoir. I followed you both and waited until he went in.” Alex gasped and grabbed Cole’s hand. “Do you have to do that?”
“I have to clean this damn wound properly.” He ripped open the packaging for a clean dressing. “Why did you wait? Why didn’t you warn me?”
“And tell you what? That I thought there was a cat about to steal your painting? You would have laughed at me.”
“Sit still,” he grumbled and leaned forward to apply the dressing. Her blouse was unbuttoned and she wore a pink satin bra underneath—something Cole was trying very hard not to focus on.
“I needed to be certain. When he came back, I followed him in—”
“Why? Why not call the police and let them handle it?”
Alex sighed. “Cole, men like him don’t play nice. The slightest smell of a threat to his hit and he wouldn’t hesitate to pull his gun—and he did, didn’t he? There was no time to call the police.” She slapped his hand away from her waist. “If I hadn’t gone in when I did, you’d be the one with a damn bullet wound, not me. I knew something was going down. I might not have thought it through, but I was acting on my instincts and trying to save your ungrateful ass.”
Point taken. Cole sat back in his chair and studied her in silence. His gaze shifted from her flushed face down to her pink bra and settled on the patch on her hip. A range of emotions went through him and he lifted his head to meet her brooding stare.
“You saved my life and you got hurt doing it,” he murmured, his voice clouded with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. “Thank you.”
The mood shifted between them and they looked at each other in silence.
“Thank you,” Alex said softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
“What was that for?” Cole asked, trying to hide his surprise.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Cole had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t break into my house to steal a painting and then see me the following day to discuss security.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Just a couple of things you let slip but I only pieced it together when I caught a smell of your hair in the library.”
“My hair?”
He smiled. “It smells like vanilla shampoo and I recognized it from the other night.”
“I really had nothing to do with the robbery.”
“I know. I just wish you’d told me what had happened.”
“I had to be sure you’d believe me. I can’t afford to have the cops all over me.” She tugged her blouse closed. “There’s something else you should know though.”
“I get the feeling I’m not going to like this.”
“You’re not.”
Leaning back in his chair, Cole locked his fingers behind his head and looked at her. “Okay, hit me.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Your cat burglar knew where the painting would be and he knew exactly where to find the library.”
“But how could he know where the library is?” Cole pushed back his chair and paced the room. “Are you sure he didn’t just get lucky?”
“No. He knew. I was right behind him and there was no hesitation.”
“And the alarm?”
Alex buttoned her blouse. “They have equipment and methods that most people would find astounding. Either he has blueprints of your house or he’s been in the house before. His plan was simple. He knew you’re a billionaire with an art fetish—”
“I’d hardly call it a fetish.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out you’d bid on the Renoir. He cased you out, gathered his information, maybe snuck into your house before the heist.”
“But why not take any of my other paintings then?”
Alex paused, running it over in her mind. “Is the Renoir the most valuable painting you own?”
“No.”
Alex paced a few steps and then stopped. “He wanted the Renoir which means he has a buyer who’s interested in it.”
Cole cursed and dragged in a deep breath to steady the surge of anger summoned by that thought. “Do you know how this makes me look? It gives the impression that I can be taken advantage of, that I’m weak, and that pisses me off. It’s like giving a golden invitation to every business shark or art thief out there to make a move on me.”
She let him brood for a moment before shifting her gaze to meet his. “Look, we’ll sort this out. I’ll get some answers, but you have to trust me, okay?”
“We should let the police know you were involved.”
Alex nodded, but he sensed she wasn’t in complete agreement. “They won’t be able to solve this, Cole. They’ve got nothing to go on.”
“I know.”
He blew out a frustrated breath and studied her from across the room. She wore black pants, her pink bloodstained blouse hanging loose around her hips. Somewhere during the course of returning to the townhouse, she’d kicked off her shoes—a far cry from the composed woman he’d seen the last two days. But their circumstances had changed tonight. Noting her disheveled appearance and the fire in her eyes gave him the sudden urge to kiss her. Hard.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Alex murmured.
“What thing?”
“Staring at me and making me all nervy.”
Cole smiled for the first time in what felt like ages, the smile easing some of the tension that coursed through him. Hell, he’d had a long day and he shouldn’t be thinking of sex at a moment like this. But he was. He wanted her.
He stared at her in silence as his inner conflict fought a small battle of its own. In the end, common sense won and he sighed in resignation. “Let’s pick this up in the morning,” he suggested, wondering how he could find her so damn sexy at a time like this.
“I have a couple of errands to run tomorrow and then I’ll meet you at your office.”
He shook his head. “I’ll be in meetings most of the day so I’ll see you back here when I’m done. I’ll organize for Warren to collect your things in the morning and you can get settled here while you wait.” The thought of having her in such close proximity to him sent heat spiraling through him. “A business associate is hosting a charity dinner party tomorrow night at the hotel. As it’s a huge affair, the press will be out in full force. I could use some decent arm c
andy with a kick.”
Alex laughed. “God, that description completely kills my image.”
“I think it’s pretty appropriate. Can you go?”
“Sure. Shall I meet you there or at home?”
Home. It sounded so domesticated. “At home.”
She nodded and winced as she reached for her bag. Clearly, she still hurt more than caring to admit.
“Alex?”
She looked back at him.
“Please have that gash checked out tomorrow. I need you. You’re no use to me if you’re down with an infection.”
Alex smiled. “There’s no chance in hell that a wound as small as this will bring me down, Anderson. I’m way tougher than that.”
Chapter Eight
Wednesday evening
Cole was sipping a neat shot of brandy when he found Alex standing in the library staring down at the street below.
God, she’s lovely.
She’d chosen a startling red Valentino evening gown and had pinned her hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She had a beauty, sexiness, about her that easily rivaled the rest of the female race.
Misplaced desire shot through him and he frowned.
“Ready?” he asked, needing a distraction from the direction his thoughts were headed.
Alex turned to look at him and took his breath away. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at the drink in his hand. “Heavy day?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Just a seller being difficult. You look nice.” An understatement, but he left it at that.
“Thanks. Arm candy with a kick at your service.”
He smiled as she passed him and followed her into the hallway.
They reached the front door and Alex stopped abruptly, whirled around, and smacked straight into Cole’s chest, catching him off guard.
He grasped her shoulders to steady her. “Forget something?”
“Sorry, I forgot my purse.”
Instead of releasing her, he kept his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze, the attraction sizzling between them real and alluring.
They fell silent and when she backed against the door, he moved closer, his gaze unfaltering.
“Cole.”
His hand slid to the back of her neck, drawing her in. He shifted his focus to her lips and his mouth hungered to taste her.
“This would be really, really bad,” she whispered.
He dipped his head toward hers until their lips were almost touching. “I know. But it would also be really, really good.”
“Yes.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“I know.” Her eyes shifted to his lips and he sensed her struggle. “But we can’t.” She dragged in a deep breath and pushed at his chest. “I work for you. This would complicate things.”
“I can do complicated.” He lingered for a moment longer, aching to touch her. “But you’re right. This would complicate things.”
It took agonizing restraint to pull away and retrieve her purse on the table behind him.
“You’re looking for trouble,” she warned, snatching her purse from him.
He chuckled but didn’t reply. Judging by the hard bulge in his pants and the mad heat that swept through his body, it appeared that trouble had found him.
****
Alex inhaled as they settled inside the stretch limo and tried to regain her composure. Her heart pounded frantically against her chest and her breath consisted of choppy gasps of air. As tempting as the kiss had been, common sense still reigned, and she’d somehow mustered the strength to pull back.
God, how she’d wanted him to kiss her.
Unable to stop herself, she stole a glance at him. He was freshly shaven and dressed in a black Armani suit with a white shirt that matched even whiter teeth. The man possessed an aura of power around him she found thrilling.
“Did you have that gash checked out today?” he asked her, his voice casual, too casual.
A ploy on his part to get them back on level ground, no doubt.
“I did.” She’d selected her mother’s physician, known for his discretion. The fact that she’d always liked him was an added bonus.
Cole handed her a drink. “What did the doctor say?”
“I’ll live. How were your meetings?”
“I walked out of a negotiation and told John to deal with it.”
“Negotiating another deal for a new hotel?” Some people collected stamps for a hobby. He collected hotels.
“Yes. I’ve had my eye on a piece of property in California. The owner needs to sell but he’s stalling.”
“Why?”
“We’re haggling about price. He knows I have the money to back any offer so he’s pushing hard for a better price. I, on the other hand, am not willing to pay more for the property than it’s worth so that he can spend long vacations in the Caribbean.” He sipped his drink and shot her a pensive glance over the rim of his glass. “But he’ll cave. They all do.”
Alex smiled. “You sound very cocky. Might want to check that ego of yours.”
“I plan to own that property,” he murmured with solid confidence and she was unable to decipher the look that crossed his face. “I’m the only one interested in it with enough money to back the deal. He’d be stupid not to sell to me. I like the property and the area and I think one of my hotels would do well there.” His eyes narrowed and his dark gaze moved over her body. “Besides, if I want to own something, I do.”
She knew instinctively he wasn’t talking about his stalled property deal anymore, and met his eyes in an unspoken challenge. “I can’t be bought or owned, Cole.”
A brief flash of amusement sparked in his dark blue eyes and then disappeared. “I doubt anyone would ever be able to own you,” he said and chuckled. “Besides, whoever tried would get far more than they bargained for.”
“True.” She smirked at him, grateful that the fleeting moment of tension had passed. “To be honest, I’ve yet to meet a man who has the balls to have a showdown in a relationship with me.”
She looked out of the window. “You need to remember that I’m here tonight on a business capacity and not as a real date.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
She glanced back at him. “What I mean is that although I’ll be attending as your date, I’ll still be working the room.”
“Working the room? That sounds like something a prostitute would say.”
“For your security,” she said, feigning impatience. “Even though I’m wearing heels tonight, I still have to do my job so if a situation arises then just back off and let me, okay?”
He fell silent, settled back in his seat, and fixed an unnerving gaze on her.
“Fair enough,” he replied a moment later. “Did you settle in okay this afternoon at the house?”
“Yes. Charles and Warren were great.”
“Good.” Cole glanced out the window. “We’re almost there.”
“Who’s our host for this dinner party?”
“Mike Willis.”
“The real estate guru?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“He was once a client. One of my partners worked with him.”
Before Cole could reply, the limo came to a stop outside the hotel entrance and he scowled as several reporters scurried around them.
“Wow,” Alex said softly, staring at the mob of people outside.
“Want to back out?”
“Never.”
He smiled and made a move to exit the limo, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. “Cole. Let me do my job.”
With a frown, he nodded and they both exited the limo to a mob of excited reporters.
“Mr. Anderson, are there any new leads regarding the attempted robbery at your house this week?” a reporter from The New York Post shouted.
A second reporter pushed ahead, following the couple as they moved to the front door. “Mr. Anderson, when did you and Miss Foxley start dating?”
A flurry of qu
estions followed and as they reached the steps, Alex turned to face them. When she spoke, her voice was clear and professional.
“I’m here as a representative from Body Armor and not as Mr. Anderson’s date. Due to the robbery at his house earlier in the week, we felt Mr. Anderson’s security was at risk. Body Armor is assisting with his personal protection as well as with the upgrade of his home and office security.” She nodded and dashed inside, ignoring their onset of questions.
“What was that for?” Cole grumbled, taking her arm.
“Don’t be so cranky.”
“I quite liked the fact they thought you were my date.” Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, “You make a hot date.”
“And you’re so looking for trouble,” she repeated, tilting her head toward him and smiling against his face. “I was sending a message.”
“Saying what? That Cole Anderson can’t get a date?”
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that Cole Anderson can get a date. No one doubts your masculine mojo. Once word gets out, every professional art thief in New York will know we’re in the process of upgrading your security.”
“Ah, clever.”
“And also,” she said, flashing him a bright smile, “I was letting them know that I’m here as your bodyguard so if anything happens and I have to do my job to keep you safe they won’t think that Cole Anderson stands back and allows his date to kick ass for him.”
“You’re so cool,” he breathed and slipped an arm around her waist.
****
Alex stood in the doorway, her skilled gaze sweeping across the room in search of her target, her sole purpose for being here tonight.
Cole.
Everyone was dressed to impress. Diamonds glittered, business cards swapped hands, and everyone stood with a glass in their hand, chatting and laughing. Elegant chandeliers and hundreds of candles lit the room, providing a romantic and warm atmosphere. The band played in the background while several waiters walked around, dressed in black suits. They would’ve blended in well with the other suits had it not been for their nametags.
It was easy to see the difference between the wives in the room to that of the women whose purpose was to be there as mere arm candy. Alex could also spot the doting wives and the more unfaithful ones, scouting the room in search of some amusement of their own. She surveyed the men, able to differentiate between the men who favored their alcohol as opposed to the ones that favored their wallets.