by Caila Jaynes
“Good. I’ve been working on these guys for months. It’s about time they pulled the trigger.”
Gabe unbuttoned his dress shirt and shrugged it off, then carefully hung it up before he slipped off his trousers. He took care to align the creases perfectly before he hung the pants in the closet, and selected what he planned to wear for golf the next day.
As he moved about the room, Claire ran her gaze over his body, taking in his bare chest. He was handsome, but like many of the men she knew, looked better in a suit than in casual clothing. His belly wasn’t that firm. Not surprising with all of those rich meals he ate while entertaining clients. Gabe preferred golf to working out at the gym, and had often bragged about the deals he’d cut on the course. The hours he spent on the links had left his face and forearms tanned, but the rest of his body was pale.
Wearing only boxer shorts, he crawled into bed next to Claire and slipped an arm around her to yank her close.
“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he murmured before he lowered his mouth to hers, dipping his tongue inside to explore her mouth.
She slipped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss, and Gabe ran a hand up her waist to grasp her breast. When he squeezed a little too hard, she winced, but wanting to please him, she nipped gently at his bottom lip, knowing it was something he liked. He threw a knee over her hip, moving on top of her before she could react, and nudged her knees apart. Already hard, he rubbed his groin against hers, seeking friction, and she pressed back, pressing her head back into the pillow as she arched her spine.
All the things she wanted from him, needed from him, spun through her mind.
Touch me. Make me want you. Taste my skin, worship my body, make me feel special.
But none of that happened.
Reaching between them, he pulled himself free from his boxers and slid a hand up her thigh, pushing the silky nightgown he’d bought her a few months ago to her waist. A moment later, he thrust inside her, and Claire swallowed her disappointment.
Why does it have to be like this? So emotionless, so fast?
Back when they’d first become intimate, Gabe had been more patient, taking care to seduce Claire, to woo her. She’d enjoyed their time in bed then, but things had changed lately. He was distracted a lot these days and impatient, often skipping any semblance of foreplay, and in the last couple of months, she’d learned to fake her orgasms so he’d finish quicker. Not always, but on nights like this, when he was more into his own pleasure than hers.
Maybe it’ll get better, she tried to convince herself.
But what if it doesn’t?
Chapter Eleven
At eleven o’clock Sunday morning, Grayson pulled into the parking lot of a rundown motel Gibson’s text had specified, wired for sound and driving one of the beaters his team used for undercover work. Rex Gibson was standing next to his vehicle, a silver Corvette ZR1 with racing stripes, talking on his phone.
“Sound good?” Grayson muttered as he parked, pulling down the slouchy knit hat he wore to cover his earbud. A faded long-sleeved T-shirt, ripped jeans, and short boots completed his undercover attire.
Eli’s voice rang out in his ear. “Loud and clear.”
When Grayson unfolded his lanky body from his car and approached, Gibson ended his call and slipped the phone in his pocket.
“Are we on?” Grayson asked. “Do you have a picture of the girl?”
“About that.” Gibson rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Just got a text from my client. He wants someone else for the job.”
Grayson froze. “What do you mean?”
“When I told him you hadn’t actually nabbed anyone before, he wasn’t very happy.”
Who could have predicted he’d need a résumé stacked with kidnapping experience? Biting back a curse, Grayson said, “Let me talk to the guy. I’ll convince him.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why? Has he already gotten someone else?” When Gibson didn’t answer, Grayson tried again. “Let me talk to him.”
Gibson’s face turned red. “What’re you, deaf? I told you the answer’s no.”
“I just don’t get what the big deal is.”
“I don’t get it either,” Gibson admitted, then narrowed his eyes. “Why do you keep asking about this job?”
Grayson thought fast. “I was counting on that money. Now I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do.”
“Forget about it.” Gibson waved a hand, dismissing the protests. “I’ll cut you in on something else instead.”
Grayson ground his teeth as he looked toward his car. He needed to talk to Eli to figure out what to do next. More than ready to wrap up the conversation, he turned back to Gibson. “What’ll you cut me in on?”
“The clubs, just like you wanted in the first place. Gimme a call next week.”
“Fine. I have to go pick up my kid now, anyway.”
Grayson stalked toward his car, grumbling under his breath when the old Civic’s gears slipped as he pulled out. A few blocks away from the motel, he pulled into a convenience store parking lot. When the surveillance van pulled in next to him a few seconds later, he jumped out of his car and ducked inside the van’s side door as it slid open for him.
Eli turned from the surveillance technician as Grayson growled, “We’ve got a big problem.”
“I heard,” Eli said. “But the wiretap is paying off. We’re lucky Gibson’s not too paranoid and hasn’t swapped out his phone yet. A flurry of texts went back and forth just before your meeting regarding the kidnapping. We know who it is they’re planning to take.”
Grayson’s hope rose, along with gratitude that they’d been able to secure a warrant to tap Gibson’s cell phone. “Who?”
“Senator Thomas Parker’s daughter. Her name is Claire.”
“You’re positive?”
“Without a doubt. Her name, address, and photo were texted to Gibson this morning.”
Grayson closed his eyes in relief. Now that they knew who the target was, they could get the girl into protective custody. “Any idea who it was Gibson texted?”
“The texts were made from a burner phone that pinged off a tower in DC. We’re working on identifying who it belongs to. Get this, though. Claire Parker has a boyfriend, Gabe Rogers, who’s being investigated by the SEC. He’s been running a Ponzi scheme that’s about to implode.”
“So he’s desperate.”
“Exactly,” Eli said. “His clients have given him millions over the past few years to invest. But instead of investing it all as promised, he’s been using most of the money to fund a lavish lifestyle. Mansions, expensive cars, you name it. But now clients are starting to demand results, and a few have asked for their investment back. He’s scrambling to recruit more clients so that he can make payments to the original investors.”
“What’s his background?”
“Graduated from Wharton six years ago and moved to DC to start his investment business. A real whiz kid. Built his company from nothing, and supposedly had an investment portfolio in the nine figures.”
Grayson mulled over the new info. “Any chance of a connection between the boyfriend’s money problems and the kidnapping? He could probably get a nice ransom for her from the senator.”
“Possibly. The Parkers are old money. Either way, we’ve got to get the girl into protective custody.”
“Agreed,” Grayson said, then surprised himself by adding, “I’ll take this one.”
“You sure about that?” Eli scoffed. “Protection detail isn’t exactly your favorite assignment.”
The protective instincts that had surged when Gibson first mentioned the kidnapping rolled through Grayson again, solidifying his decision. “I’d like to take care of it.”
Eli cursed under his breath. “We have a problem. Zara is undercover on a case, so we can’t pull her to have a female agent on the protective detail. It’s not mandatory, but it does help to put a female protectee at ease to have another wom
an there.”
Grayson snorted. “My new partner’s about as touchy-feely as they come. He’ll put any woman at ease in no time.
“All right.” Eli chuckled and then gave him Claire Parker’s address. “You and Jeremy can handle this one together. But I’m going to have to recruit another female agent. Just having one on the team isn’t cutting it.”
Chapter Twelve
After breakfast Sunday morning, Claire said polite good-byes to Gabe’s guests, then slipped away for a quick two-mile run on the beach. She set a steady pace, breathing through her nose as her arms pumped, and did her best to clear her mind. Gentle waves rolled onto the sand, sometimes surprising her and forcing her to dance away from their reach with a laugh.
She hit the one-mile mark and turned to retrace her steps, feeling energized and loose by the time she reached the resort and loped up the steps to a side entrance. A well-dressed elderly woman gave Claire a curt nod as she entered the elevator, the woman’s lips pressing into a thin, disapproving line as she scanned Claire’s running attire. The mismatched running shorts and oversized T-shirt she preferred to run in weren’t expensive or trendy, but Claire didn’t care. They were comfortable, and that’s what counted.
After a quick shower, she changed into a pair of eggshell-colored slacks, a coral sleeveless silk blouse, and a pair of sky-high strappy sandals. When she added the matching lightweight jacket for her flight later in the day, she’d look more the part that her parents and Gabe always expected her to.
With a quick peek into the living area, she found she was still alone, so decided to call her parents since she hadn’t spoken with them in several days. Unable to reach them, she called her father’s chief of staff, Peter Cooley.
“Have you spoken with my father?”
“We talked first thing this morning,” Peter said, his deep voice rumbling over the phone. “The town hall meetings have gone well and his polling numbers are trending up, but your mother isn’t thrilled with traveling on a bus.”
“That’s my mom,” Claire said with a chuckle. “A woman of the people.”
“Fred’s picking you up?”
“Yes, if you don’t need him.”
“Not today. What time does your flight get in?”
“Two o’clock.”
“Have a good flight,” Peter said. “When I speak to your father, I’ll let him know you’ve been trying to reach him.”
When Claire ended the call, she walked into the living room to find Gabe had returned from the restaurant and was sitting on the couch, frowning as he tapped away at his laptop.
“I was trying to reach my parents.”
He glanced up from the screen. “Get ahold of them?”
Claire sat next to him, wishing he would set his laptop aside and put his arm around her, but he didn’t. “No, but I spoke with Peter. He said the bus tour is going well.”
“That’s good. Your dad’s opponent has been getting a lot of media attention lately.” Gabe glanced up and finally focused on her, then reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze. “I know you’re stressed with school, but maybe we can take a real vacation soon. Somewhere quiet, with no clients.”
At Claire’s doubtful look, he leaned back from his laptop and held up his hands. “I promise. We can go anywhere you want—except for your parents’ mountain cabin. Having no internet is a deal-breaker for me.”
“Going on vacation means no work, you know,” Claire said.
“Babe, I can’t do that.” Gabe frowned, then his face brightened. “Actually, I’ve got something that might help your parents the next time they go.”
He stood up and headed into the bedroom, returning with two boxes in hand. “Here.”
Raising a brow, Claire accepted the larger package, still in its shrink-wrap. “A satellite phone?”
“I picked it up on my last trip, thinking it would help your mom and dad when they’re off in the wilds of Virginia,” he said with a smirk.
“That’s so nice of you.”
Last winter, Claire and Gabe had spent a few days at the property her parents had bought several years ago in the Blue Ridge mountains . . . hundreds of acres of unspoiled forest that teemed with white-tailed deer and wild turkey. Thomas and Eva had built a beautiful lodge-style cabin there, but it was a little too quiet and remote for Gabe’s taste. Cell and internet service was spotty in the mountains, which meant they were often out of touch, and Gabe had nearly had a fit when he couldn’t check his investment portfolio on the hour.
Claire had loved the isolation, finding the quiet solitude a balm to her unsettled soul. The beautiful mountain scenery and crisp blue skies drew her outside to the cabin’s deck each morning, and she’d begged Gabe to bundle up and go on snowshoe hikes with her through the forest in the afternoons. Each and every time, though, she’d ended up going alone.
Gabe smiled and held out the other gift, a rectangular jewelry box. “And this one’s for you. A small thank-you for flying down here to help me this weekend.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Really, I was happy to help.”
Setting the satellite phone beside her on the sofa, Claire picked up the small box. No doubt it contained something expensive. Over the past year, Gabe had given her jewelry that had to be worth over a hundred thousand dollars. It made her uncomfortable to accept such lavish presents from him, but whenever she tried to refuse one, he accused her of not loving him and froze her out for days afterward. Unable to deal with his mood swings, she’d learned to accept his gifts graciously.
“Open it, Claire.”
She gave him a nod, opening the box and widening her eyes with surprise when she saw the diamond tennis bracelet resting on the black silk inside. The morning sunlight streaming through the windows caught it, making iridescent pinpoints of light bounce on the wall.
She must have been silent too long, because he frowned and asked, “Do you like it?”
“Of course.” Claire quickly met his gaze. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much.”
A satisfied smile brightened his face as he sat beside her. He picked up the bracelet and fastened it around her wrist, then tapped it pointedly as he caught her eye. “I’ve got another diamond in mind, but I think your parents would prefer to be around when I give you that one.”
Claire’s breath caught as she stared at him. They’d never even talked about marriage before, so where was this coming from? She and Gabe had only been dating for a little over a year. He treated her well . . . she should love him.
She closed her eyes at the thought. She did love him. It was just the stress of everything that had her worked up. Between law school and her father’s campaign, the past month had been insane. She was just overwhelmed, that was all.
That saying about a girl marrying someone like her father? If she married Gabe, that’s exactly what she would be doing. He was on a similar high trajectory as her father, but rather than political ambitions, his were more financial. Thomas Parker wanted to steer the country; Gabe Rogers wanted to steer the world’s financial markets.
Gabe reached for his phone and glanced at the screen. “Around the holidays, maybe?”
Nerves darted around inside Claire’s stomach like arrows, but she ignored them and gave him a jerky nod. She needed time to think about this, time to assess what marriage to Gabe might mean for her.
Being Mrs. Gabriel Rogers would bring her securely within his world, in orbit around him and his wants and needs 24/7. She’d probably have to give up her own hopes and dreams, although, to be honest, it wasn’t as if she even knew what those were for certain, just that they weren’t what her parents wanted for her. And they definitely wouldn’t mesh with what Gabe wanted.
Time for a subject change.
Trying to keep her voice even, she said, “This was a successful weekend for you.”
To her relief, he went with the change in topic. “Thanks in large part to you. The wives loved you. You’re like a good-lu
ck charm. I only wish you could stay the week, although you probably wouldn’t have much fun with the group that’s coming in tomorrow. It’s all men, so it’ll mean several rounds of golf and a lot of expensive Scotch.”
Gabe’s phone pinged and he picked it up. As he tapped out a response to the message he’d received, he said, “We should pick out a diamond together when we get back to DC.”
Claire nodded but said nothing, re-running the conversation inside her head.
Why wasn’t she more excited about this? Was it because he’d taken her by surprise, or was it because something was wrong? Claire’s mother regularly reminded her that she’d married Claire’s father right out of college. Claire was twenty-four, two years past that. She couldn’t use the excuse of being too young.
Or could it be because he assumed you’d say yes, and didn’t even ask? an impish voice inside her asked.
Gabe tucked his phone back inside his pocket. “Are you sure you don’t mind that I’m not taking you to the airport? I have a tee time in twenty minutes, but I have a car coming to pick you up at eleven.”
This wasn’t anything new. Gabe was usually too busy to spend time doing something mundane like picking her up himself. It was much easier to send a car for her instead.
“No, it’s fine; you go ahead. I need to pack anyway, and I don’t have much time.”
“I guess I need to say good-bye now,” he said and pulled her close.
As Claire returned his kiss, she tried to muster the emotions she should be feeling right now. Passion, excitement, anticipation.
But all she felt was dread and a sinking feeling that if she wasn’t careful, her life would no longer be her own.
Chapter Thirteen
A little over an hour later, Grayson had changed clothes, packed an overnight bag, and switched to the task force’s Suburban he normally drove before picking up his new partner, Jeremy Cox. The kid wasn’t as experienced as Camden, but he had the discipline and training needed for the job. That was all that counted.