by Debbie Mason
Chloe fisted her hands in her hair, wailing, “I’m ruined. She ruined me. Everything’s ruined. I’m washed up at thirty-one.”
“Now, now.” GG moved to her side. “Nothing is ever as bad as it seems.”
“You don’t understand. The role I auditioned for in London—the one guaranteed to win me an Oscar—they gave it to a twenty-two-year-old. It was written for me, not for some nobody who can’t act her way out of a paper bag.”
It was becoming clearer to Grayson that Cat had nothing to do with Chloe’s trip to London. As he’d noticed, every time something didn’t go her way, Chloe threw Cat under the bus. He guided the two women up the steps. “I’ll make us a cup of tea.” He had a feeling he’d need something stronger before the night was out. “And you can tell us all about it, Chloe.”
She sniffed. “I don’t know if I can. It’s too depressing. I never should have listened to my sister.”
Grayson was about to defend Cat, then realized he didn’t want to deal with the fallout. He helped his grandmother out of her coat, then hung it up before crouching to unzip her boots. Both she and Fluffy were shivering. “How about I put on a fire? The three of you can curl up on the couch while I make you something to eat.”
“Nonsense, you forget your place, my boy. The other one can take care of the food and drink,” Estelle said, leaning heavily on her cane as she followed a sniffling Chloe to the great room.
“The other one is going to bed.” Cat’s voice came from the kitchen, followed by the banging of what sounded like pots and pans.
“That was uncalled for, Estelle.” He settled her on the brown leather couch. Chloe sat at the opposite end, curling her feet under her, looking as if her world had crashed and burned. Which made him think about his and GG’s close call. He found it interesting that Chloe hadn’t bothered to ask what happened. Even more interesting was Cat’s admission that she’d been preparing to come to their aid before she remembered who she was pretending to be.
GG shrugged in response to his reprimand, pulling the orange afghan from the back of the couch to wrap around Fluffy. “The girl pulled a fast one on us. I don’t appreciate being made to look like a fool.”
Neither did he, but really, what did he expect. It’s not like he and Cat were in a relationship. She didn’t owe him an explanation. At least on a personal level. But as it pertained to his case, she did.
Without responding to his grandmother, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling fireplace in the center of the room. From where he crouched, he could see into the kitchen. Cat stood at the island, wincing as she pulled at her upper eyelid. He held back a laugh as he lit a match, holding it to the kindling beneath the logs. It must have been torture for her to have her hair and makeup done every day. And now, he thought, as he stood up, he’d find out why she’d agreed to the charade in the first place. From her, not Chloe. He wanted the truth.
His grandmother looked up from her conversation with Chloe. “Where are you going?”
“To get our tea.”
“I suppose that might be for the best given that girl couldn’t make a decent cup to save her life. Add a little extra sugar in mine.”
“Mine too, Harry. And tell my sister when she’s done with her hissy fit that I need to speak to her. I want to know how bad the situation is.”
He made a noncommittal sound in his throat and headed to the kitchen. Cat stood at the stove with her back to him. She’d removed her boots, and from the looks of the island, hunks of her hair. Without looking at him, she pointed to a teapot on the stove. “Tea’s ready.”
He moved behind her. “I thought you were going to bed.”
“I am, but I was hungry.” She sighed, resting the wooden spoon on top of the pot. “Look, I’m sorry for not… Why are looking at me like that?”
“Your”—he leaned into her, plucking the false eyelashes from her lid—“lashes are falling off. What should I do with it?”
“Toss it.” She pulled at her other eyelid.
He took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “Let me.” She squinted as he pulled. “Your own lashes are as long as these. Why do you wear them?”
“I don’t. Chloe does.”
“Ah, I see. Hang on, one more.” He tugged, then offered the sticky lashes to her on the tip of his index finger.
“Thank you.”
She went to move away, and he held her in place. “You could have told me, you know. I would have kept your confidence.”
“I wanted to. But if anyone found out, Chloe would have been in breach of her contract. And then she’d blame me for her losing her job.” Her shoulders lifted on a half laugh. “Which she obviously thinks I have. I can’t win with her.”
“So why do you keep trying?”
She wriggled from under his hands and turned back to the stove. “She’s my sister. It’s my job to protect her.”
“Is that what you were doing, protecting her?”
“Yes, from… being fired, yes.”
So not quite ready to open up to him. “You know, Cat, it is her career. It was her choice to audition for the role. What would you have done if she got the part? Pretend to be Chloe for however long production lasted?”
She stared at him, then briefly closed her eyes. “You’re right. I didn’t think that far ahead. I guess I should be thankful she didn’t get the role.”
“How can you be so selfish?” Chloe said from behind them. “I’m heartbroken. Completely devastated, and you’re happy I didn’t get the role.”
“Chloe, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry you didn’t get the part. But we didn’t think it through. Harry’s right. I couldn’t—”
“What else have you been up to besides ruining my acting reputation?” She interrupted Cat, her eyes narrowed. “Did she make a move on you?”
“Pardon me?” He groaned inwardly when GG entered the kitchen. Surely she’d keep her mouth—
“She kissed him. At the Christmas bazaar. But Harry only kissed her back because he thought it was you.”
Chloe shrieked, lunging for Cat. Grayson stepped between them. “Stop it, Chloe. There’s no reason—”
“You’re trying to steal my boyfriend just like I stole Easton from you. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“You didn’t…” Cat slammed the wooden spoon on the pot. “It was fourteen years ago, Chloe. Get over it. I have.” She flicked the knob on the gas stove to off. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Harry, if you’re hungry, you can eat my Beefaroni.”
* * *
Thanks to the O’Connor sisters, Grayson missed his opportunity to do a thorough search of Molly’s and Sam’s rooms. Actually, it was not so much Cat’s fault as it was Chloe’s. It took forever to calm the damn woman down. Twenty minutes in Chloe’s company reminded him why he’d sworn off actresses, and why he preferred her sister. It was close to eleven by the time he snuck out of the house.
Sam and Molly had arrived back from the bar just moments after he’d entered her room. Luckily, they were loud enough that he had time to escape through the patio door. From what he did find, the connection between Molly and Sam appeared to stem from an affinity for recreational drugs.
Grayson turned off the headlights as he drove through the wrought iron gates. He didn’t want to wake the residents of the house. Actually, he didn’t want to wake Chloe or GG, but he most definitely wanted to wake Cat. He was tired of playing games. He wanted to take her off his list once and for all. Who was he trying to kid? He wanted her, period.
If he expected her to trust him, he had to trust her enough to tell her who he really was. So he would. Tonight. But first, he had to make it clear to her that she was the one he wanted, not Chloe. And that somewhere inside of him, he’d known it wasn’t Chloe he was kissing at the Christmas bazaar, but her. Given Cat’s past experience with the FBI, he had to make sure she believed at least that before he revealed his true identity.
Getting out of the parked SUV, he quietly shut the driver’s-side doo
r. The only way to ensure his grandmother and Chloe didn’t hear him and wreak havoc with his plan was to sneak in Cat’s window. Trudging through the snow to the back of the house and her bedroom, he stayed in the shadows. Her lights were off. He blew on his hands, weighing his options. He didn’t want to leave it until tomorrow. Slowly, he eased the window open.
* * *
Cat rolled over and reached for her ringing cell phone. “Ty, it’s midnight. What—”
“We were right. He’s a cheater.”
She rubbed her eyes, then propped herself up on the pillows. “Okay, I’m not following you. Who were we right about?”
“Harry. He’s cheating on you with Chloe, and on Chloe with you, and now he’s cheating on the two of you with Molly.”
She was going to go through the whole “he can’t be cheating with anyone because he’s not in a relationship with them,” but the fact Harry might be seeing Molly was relevant to her investigation. And yes, dammit, she didn’t have a right to be ticked, but the thought he might possibly be getting it on with Molly bothered her. So she did want this information, even though she kind of didn’t. “All right, I’ll bite. Why do you think he’s with Molly?”
“Because, not thirty minutes ago, I saw him sneaking out of her room.”
Before she had a chance to let the information sink in, she heard a scraping sound outside her window. “Ty, are you here?”
“No, do you need me to be?” He blew out a noisy breath. “I’ve upset you. I shouldn’t—”
“Quiet, I hear… I gotta go. I think someone’s trying to break in.”
“Oh. My. God. Should I call the police?”
“I am the police. Well, I was.” She almost hoped someone was breaking in and that that someone thought this was Chloe’s bedroom. After the episode with her sister tonight, Cat wanted Chloe’s would-be killer caught yesterday.
Cat rolled over, quietly easing open her nightstand drawer to reach for her gun. It wasn’t there. She was sure… She racked her brain. The last time she remembered seeing it was the night of the party for Harry and Estelle. Maybe she’d left it in Chloe’s room. A bump against the outer wall drew her mind back to the more immediate problem. “Ty, I’ll call you back.”
She disconnected and tossed her phone. Staying low, she crawled out of bed, moving silently to the window. It was a moonless night, making it difficult to see anything but a dark shadow. The window opened soundlessly. She’d wait until they were fully in the room before making her move. There was no way she was giving them an opportunity to escape.
It was a man. He was powerfully built, had dark hair, and was more than six feet tall. There was something oddly familiar about him. But she didn’t have time to give it more thought as he pulled himself all the way into the room. He quietly lowered himself onto the floor. Once he was on his knees, she made her move.
She jumped him from behind, bringing him down to the hardwood floor. Before she had a chance to utter a word, he flipped her effortlessly onto her back. His large body covering hers, the cold from his leather jacket and jeans seeped into her body, making her shiver. Or maybe it was the realization that her intruder was Harry, a man she’d wanted to be underneath for a couple of weeks now.
His white teeth flashed in the dark. “I must say, I prefer being on top.”
Heat radiated through her. She ignored it. “Dammit, Harry.” She pushed on his chest. “What were you thinking breaking into my room? I could have shot you.” Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t been able to find her gun.
“Did I ever tell you how sexy you look holding a weapon?” His eyes glittered down at her as icy cold fingers moved to her lower spine. “I wanted to talk to you. Alone. This seemed the only way.”
“I can think of a couple of others.” Ones that didn’t involve her lying on the floor beneath a heavy, muscular body. A man who smelled of fresh air and wood smoke and thought she was sexy. Apparently he thought her sister and Molly were, too. “Harry, it’s after midnight. I’m tired. Can you get off me now?”
“I will. But first I have to be sure you’re you.”
She blew out an aggravated breath. “Of course…” Her words stuttered in her throat when he lowered his mouth to hers. Teasing her lips open with his tongue, he wrapped an arm around her waist. His other hand cradled the back of her head as he rolled to his side, bringing her with him.
She was still processing that Harry was actually kissing her when his mouth left hers. He drew back, gently tugging on her hair. “Real, and very beautiful.”
“Harry, I—” Her voice came out a throaty whisper, and she forgot what she was about to say when he moved his hand to her face, trailing his fingers down her cheek to her mouth. He rubbed his thumb over her damp bottom lip. “No makeup, and naturally gorgeous. Yes, I think it is you, love. But just to be sure.” He replaced his thumb with his mouth.
Desire stole through her as much from his words as his kiss, leaving her helpless to deny the attraction. She wanted him, wanted this, had wanted it for weeks, if she were honest. This kiss was real and deep and passionate. So much more than the one they’d shared at the Christmas bazaar. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tunneling through his thick hair as she touched her tongue to his. He groaned into her mouth, moving his leg between hers, smiling against her lips when she released a helpless moan. She needed to get closer, feel more of him, and she removed her hands from his hair, placing them under his leather jacket to explore his broad chest and taut abs. As though sensing her need, he rolled her to her back. Their kiss turned hotter, more frantic. And then her cell phone rang. It was as effective as a cold shower, wrenching her from her lust-filled state.
She pulled back, breathless. “I have to answer. It’s probably Ty. If I don’t, he’ll call the police.”
“All right, then,” Harry said, his accent thick and sexy. Releasing her, he sat up and shoved his fingers through his hair.
She scrambled to her feet and hurried across the room to grab her phone. “Everything’s fine, Ty. No, no one was there.”
Listening as Ty gave her crap for not calling him back, she watched Harry close the bedroom window. He turned, shrugging out of his leather jacket, which he carefully draped over the black beanbag chair in the corner of her room.
Ty huffed in her ear.
She dragged her gaze from the man prowling toward her bed and turned on the bedside lamp. “What? I know. I’m sorry, I fell asleep. No, there’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe I’m getting a cold.” She frowned when Ty told her of his plan to catch the three-timing Harry, who, at that moment, was stretching out beside her on the bed. Harry tucked an arm behind his head and smiled, crossing his feet at his ankles, looking like he intended to stay the night.
A minute ago, she’d thought Ty’s call couldn’t have come at a worse time. But now, after being reminded about her sister and Molly… At least Cat hadn’t done something stupid like making mad and passionate love with him on her bedroom floor. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay. Night.” She disconnected, leaning over to place her phone on the nightstand.
“Ty feeling better knowing you’re tucked safely in your bed?”
Hearing Harry’s deep, suggestive voice didn’t make her feel safe. Nor did seeing his gorgeous face and dangerously powerful body taking up two-thirds of her bed. Before Harry had a chance to distract her, she said, “Yes, but I should warn you he plans to investigate you tomorrow.”
“Whatever would prompt him to investigate me?” There was a hint of tension beneath the amusement.
“He thinks you’re a player, and that you’re three-timing my sister with me and Molly.”
He glanced at Cat, his hesitation causing her heart to skip a beat. She stiffened when he pulled her down beside him on the bed. “I’m not three-timing anyone.” He pressed a finger to her lips when she opened her mouth to ask about his visit to Molly’s room at the lodge. “Just give me a chance to explain. I’ll tell you about Molly, and it’s not what you th
ink. But before I do, it’s important that you believe I’m not interested in your sister. I’m not, love. Not in the least. Granted, she can occasionally be sweet, and there have been times I felt sorry for her. But more often than not, she’s demanding and self-centered. You’re the one I’m interested in. You, and only you.”
She crossed her arms. “So how do you explain the kiss at the Christmas bazaar? And what about yesterday? I saw the way you looked at Chloe. I mean me pretending to be Chloe.”
“How do you explain the kiss we just shared?”
Brain freeze. Stupidity. Lust. Hope. Sadly, it was probably the latter. “You don’t answer a question with a question, Harry. It doesn’t work that way.”
“All right, if you won’t answer, I will. We have something, Cat. A connection, chemistry, whatever you want to call it.”
“But you said you didn’t want a relationship.” She should have stuck with the Cat-Chloe thing because what she just said made it sound like she wanted something more than a fling.
“I didn’t, until I met you.”
Okay, that was nice, and more than she expected. “So, what you’re saying is, because of the connection thing, you knew it was me all along.”
He made an apologetic face. “Well, no. I thought I was interested in Chloe, too.”
She supposed she should appreciate his honesty. But really, she wouldn’t have minded if he’d kept that to himself.
“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that. I feel bad enough as it is. And while in here”—he pointed to his head—“I thought you were Chloe, in here”—he placed his hand over his heart—“I knew it was you. And another part of me did, too, but it’s probably best if I don’t put my hand there.” He waggled his eyebrows. “But you’re welcome to.”
She started to laugh, and he smiled, turning on his side. “Now, to explain about Molly.” He stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ear in teasing sweeps. “There’s something I should have told you for a while now, but I’ve been—”
At a quiet knock on her door, she covered his mouth with her hand.