“Shit.” Marnie was staring. “You love him, too.”
Francesca startled, confused by Marnie’s words until she saw the wedding planner flinch and go through the motions of remorse for her words.
“I’m sorry,” Marnie said. “That came out wrong. I meant I didn’t realize you were struggling with it. It comes as a surprise. Sorry.”
“I’m not. Really, I’m not. I’m marrying him, aren’t I?” Francesca’s eyes welled up, quite without any notice, and suddenly she was wiping tears. “Caleb’s right. I’m just shaken up because of the kidnapping. My father still doesn’t know, and I’m afraid he’ll find out and then I’ll really be packed away in bubble wrap.”
Marnie was clearly upset. “Any information on who kidnapped you or why? Has anyone approached you? Like your father, or someone from his security team?”
“Caleb has kept them in the dark. We think it’s for the best.”
“You don’t want to upset your father.” She nodded.
“He’s dying. The shock wouldn’t be good for him, but honestly, I’m horrible with keeping secrets.” Francesca felt foolish. “I’m afraid I’ll let it slip. He’s been gone a lot lately, so it’s been easier to keep things from him. I covered the bruising with makeup, so”—she touched her jaw— “life goes on, my father is none the wiser.”
“Well, I won’t tell. About anything. And I’m good at keeping secrets.” Marnie winked, and crossed the room, unzipping the garment bag draped over the upholstered side chair. “Here it is. Your mother’s wedding dress.” Marnie slipped the delicate lace confection from the bag and then puffed out the crinoline underskirt to adjust its lines. “Ready?”
Francesca shrugged off her bathrobe and revealed her slip beneath. Caleb hadn’t allowed her to dress for the day. She suspected it was to give him a head start if she wanted to leave the mansion on a whim. He obviously didn’t trust her to stay put, and if she weren’t so ashamed of the truth, she would have admitted he had no worries on that front. Francesca was afraid to leave. She’d canceled her appointments at Child and Family Services. The “accident” and her injuries were enough to suppress too many questions. It was unlikely she’d return, either. Not until this issue was resolved, because someone was trying to kidnap her, and she feared people being hurt in the crossfire.
Marnie helped Francesca don the dress and then tilted the floor-length mirror they’d brought down from her bedroom. Her reflection dazzled her and broke her heart. She was the spitting image of her mother in all her parents’ wedding photos. Francesca had long connected her father’s parental neglect to her resemblance to her mother. Blaming grief, rather than indifference, helped her forgive him, because she’d wanted a father, and a father who felt too much was preferable to a father who didn’t feel anything for her at all.
“It’s lovely,” Marnie said.
“Yes. It is.” Too bad she’d never wear it for Caleb. He was kind, solicitous even, but his passion for her was gone—he hadn’t touched her in a week! In its place was something else she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t even pretend anymore. The fantasy of him wanting to turn their fake engagement into a real marriage was just that…a fantasy.
She bit her lower lip, trying to stop her emotions from turning grim. Was it something about her that stopped people from loving her? The mirror reflected back an image of an attractive woman whose résumé was accomplished, and whom people seemed to like—even the ones with nothing to gain. So why did the men in her life continue to push her away?
Chapter Seventeen
The detectives stepped into Caleb’s office; Sullivan swept it for bugs that weren’t the Feds’ and then proclaimed it clean. He pocketed the device. “Francesca’s abductors brokered a deal with the Feds,” Sullivan said.
“Which fell through,” MacLain said. “The man they ID’d—”
“Scrivener,” Caleb prompted.
“He’s dead,” MacLain said.
“What do you mean dead?” Caleb didn’t believe it.
Sullivan arched a brow. “Death certificate, witnesses, cremated sort of dead. The Feds even interviewed the crematorium staff. Scrivener is dead.”
“No way.” That would signal a catastrophic breakdown of Caleb’s information pipeline. Too many snitches would have to be lying to him to make that believable, and yet…he combed his fingers through his hair, finding it hard to think past all the implications this news presented. The breakdown wasn’t an impossibility.
MacLain grimaced. “Her abductors are sticking with their testimonies, saying Scrivener hired them, but if we approach a judge asking for immunity with such conflicting intel—”
“‘A dead guy made me do it’ will get us laughed out of chambers,” Sullivan said. “They’re no longer credible, so the Feds want to drop this thread and move on to more promising avenues of inquiry. The op’s mission is to link Hamilton to the extortion rings. It’s time to remember that, Smith.”
Caleb restrained himself from snarling. The Feds wanted what they wanted, and if Francesca wasn’t of use to them, they had no skin in the game to make her safety a priority. “Last I heard, kidnapping was FBI jurisdiction.”
“Do you want them to send over an agent to officially open a case?” Sullivan’s skepticism was spot-on. No. That would be…complicated.
“Fuck.” Caleb’s stomach burned from stress, and his head was pounding from lack of sleep. If Scrivener was dead, not only did his snitches lie, the abductors lied and he’d believed them. And not incidentally, the guy who squealed didn’t hold up his end of the deal to tell the truth. That couldn’t go unpunished. “Scrivener, dead or alive, is on me. I should have verified the facts before—” He stopped, realizing he’d almost revealed he’d gotten first dibs on questioning Francesca’s abductors.
Sullivan picked up on his hesitation. “Before what?” he said.
“Before I worried Marnie.”
“She cried,” MacLain said. “This Scrivener guy scares her, so I’m glad he’s dead. She wouldn’t tell me what he means to you two, and she was too upset for me to press, but I deserve to know.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Caleb didn’t want to think about it.
“Smith. She cried. I want to know.”
“Keep me out of your marriage,” Caleb said.
MacLain bared his teeth. “She committed a federal crime thinking she was saving you. I’d say it was you fucking with my marriage.”
“Take her home,” Caleb said. She wasn’t safe here.
“Talk to the Feds,” MacLain said, ripping his glasses off. His blue eyes flashed with frustration. “I’ll wait while you give them a call, see if they’ll drop the charges without her coming through with her end of the deal. She doesn’t have a choice about being here. And we both know by hook or by crook, she’d be here anyway. You matter to her, Smith. Don’t fuck around.”
Caleb met MacLain’s glare with one of his own. Sullivan arched a brow, scratching his scalp under the wig and dislodging it enough to force him to readjust it on his head. “Do we know yet why Francesca was kidnapped?” he said. “Or are we still wallowing in conjecture?”
“We’re wallowing,” Caleb said.
MacLain shook his head. “The Feds declared it mission creep, so let’s focus on the ledger. Our warrants expire tomorrow.”
Caleb felt his stomach tighten again. “He’s made it clear I’m not getting it until he dies, and only if I marry Francesca. And twice I’ve asked her to approach her father, but things keep getting in the way. First our engagement and then the kidnapping. I can’t catch a break.”
“Or she’s playing us. Or maybe the father is.” MacLain exchanged worried glances with Sullivan.
Sullivan turned to Caleb. “Hamilton is selling off his companies, consolidating. The Feds just got a heads-up today. It’s really why we’re here. Wanted to know if you knew anything about this, and if so, why the fuck you haven’t told us.”
“News to me.” Caleb wanted to get back to Francesca. They’
d been away too long. “How good is their source?”
MacLain shrugged. “We’re unwilling messengers. Fed stooges, thanks to Marnie. I’ll tell them you don’t know anything about it.”
“This is first I’ve heard.”
Sullivan folded his arms, confronting Caleb. “You’ve got to push Francesca again. She’s our last shot, and we’ve run out of time.”
Sullivan was right. “Let’s get back,” Caleb said. “She’ll wonder where I am.”
“Tight leash?” Sullivan smirked.
Caleb snorted, thinking of how Sullivan and his new fiancée, Harper, were attached at the hip. “Offering to lend me yours?”
“Fuck you,” Sullivan said.
Caleb flipped him the bird as he rushed back to the parlor, knocked, and without waiting for a response, threw open the door. He wanted to see the wedding dress on Francesca, and this would be his only chance. Marnie, stealthy and quick as a bunny, appeared out of nowhere, slapping her palms over his eyes with such vigor, his face stung.
Francesca shrieked. Caleb moved to the right, trying to get past Marnie without jostling her, but she was adamant and mirrored his moves, thwarting him.
“It’s unlucky,” Francesca said. Caleb didn’t care, but Marnie wasn’t relenting.
When he zigged, Marnie zagged. “The groom can’t see the bride in the dress before the ceremony.”
Caleb grabbed her wrists and pulled them to his chest. Leaning, his face inches from hers, he growled. “Really?” This was a fake engagement. Marnie knew it and so did Francesca. Yet Marnie appeared honestly horrified that he was on the precipice of breaking this taboo.
“Turn around, Caleb!” Francesca shouted from across the room. He immediately sought her out, but only caught a glimpse of long tawny hair at the couch’s edge. The rest of her was hidden.
Sullivan chuckled, irritating the hell out of Caleb, but MacLain was not amused. It forced Caleb to back off, because it occurred to him he was revealing more than he was learning.
“Whatever.” He released Marnie’s wrists, and she slapped her palms over his eyes again.
“Caleb, go back in the hall,” Francesca said. “Give me a second to change.”
Caleb pivoted, embarrassed to be told to leave and furious there were witnesses to his humiliation. “Hurry up, Francesca.” MacLain and Sullivan followed him out, closing the door behind them. They turned their backs to the security camera aimed their way.
“You’re in love with her,” MacLain whispered.
“I’m a good actor,” Caleb whispered back.
“Does she know?” Sullivan said.
“There is nothing to know.” Caleb leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Shit. Now he couldn’t even hide that he loved her.
“Can you complete the op?” MacLain glared.
“We’re dead in the water,” Caleb said. “You know that.”
“You have to use her,” MacLain said. “We’re out of options, Smith, and fuck, wasn’t using her the original plan you agreed to?”
“I am using her. I am.” He lifted a hand, indicating the room they’d just left. “We’re fucking engaged, dammit. She trusts me. She’ll do whatever I ask. Or do you doubt that?”
Neither detective contradicted him. And they couldn’t. They all knew she loved him. Francesca couldn’t hide a thought, never mind something this big.
“So you’ll do it?” Sullivan studied him as if he thought Caleb was leaving wiggle room.
“What part of I am don’t you understand? But it’s not working because she knows nothing, and her father wants to keep it that way. I’m trying.” Except he hadn’t tried nearly hard enough. He’d used her mainly as a cover until now, not the unwitting agent she was supposed to be. “The likelihood of Hamilton revealing anything of value to his daughter is nonexistent. The Feds didn’t factor that in, and I’m working with what I’ve got.” He glared at them both. “Tell that to Special Agent in Charge. And if he doesn’t like how I’m handling this, tell him to send someone else. Let the next guy marry her.”
“The warrants end tomorrow,” Sullivan said.
“It’s impossible,” Caleb said.
MacLain shrugged. “That’s why they pay you the big bucks. Coach her, but be prepared to run if she reveals you’re the one asking. Or just leave. Cut and run.”
Sullivan slapped Caleb’s shoulder as if commiserating. “Because she might be acting, too.”
The parlor door opened, and Francesca spilled into the hall, bubbling with laughter. “You almost saw the dress! You gave me a scare!”
Caleb pulled her into his arms. “I had no idea you were superstitious.”
Marnie cleared her throat, gaining his attention. “We have an appointment across town. Need anything”—she held his gaze—“we’re here for you. Otherwise, we’ll see you in a week to finalize the invitations and rehearsal dinner.” Marnie kissed Francesca’s cheek, and the “wedding planners” were gone.
Caleb followed Francesca back into the parlor, dread weighing heavy on his heart. He locked the door behind them.
“Where is my father?” she said. Caleb shook his head, having no idea. His men hadn’t called in yet, and if they didn’t soon, he’d follow up. “Are you busy?” she said.
Her tone puzzled him. “What do you need?”
Then she smiled, and it became clear what she had in mind…what he had in mind the moment he locked the door. His body grew heavy with arousal and he was as eager as her. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, offered him her lips, her gorgeous, luscious lips, that never had anything bad to say about anyone, he thought, how am I going to leave her? As soon as the thought popped into his head, he knew. He’d leave her devastated…by his lies and betrayal.
She hadn’t a clue who he was.
Tilting her head back, Francesca smiled, viewing him through a lens devoid of reality. Her face shone with love, and he’d be a fool to think his revealed anything less. She trusted him, wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was his fault she saw what she did when she looked at him. He’d presented this version of himself…someone who didn’t exist. None of what either of them were feeling was real, but it felt real. To both of them. And when Francesca discovered he’d conned her, these feelings would be snuffed out like a candle in the wind, and that would be just as real. That moment was coming any day now.
Her silk robe slid lower on one shoulder, revealing her delectable, tempting skin. It begged for a taste, for him to run his hands over every inch of her, and from the look in her eye, she was game. Biting her lip, smiling that naughty smile, his better angels took a hike and he grabbed her ass, pressing her softness against his erection…something he’d held in check for too long. She wiggled, forcing a growl out of him, and then slid her hands up his chest. He had to kiss her. Just once. But then she tilted her chin, standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips, and reason slammed home.
“I can’t.” He couldn’t betray her with a kiss anymore. No more. Their lovemaking meant something…a promise he couldn’t keep. He was more than this op, and had to live with himself after it was over.
“No?” She rubbed her lips against his, her seduction devastating as his hunger clawed at his resolve.
“I told you. I have to—” Pound on three abductors, and demand to know why they’d lied to him. Except this time, he wasn’t going to be so nice.
“My father. Yes, of course. You’ve kept him waiting long enough.” Her disappointment made his disappointment a bit easier to handle. “Will I see you tonight? I mean, before I fall asleep?”
If he slipped into bed and she was awake, he’d make love to her. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Probably not.”
“Oh.” She avoided his gaze.
“It’s this…” He had no choice. He had to press her to ask her father. “It’s this ledger thing. It’s a box I need to check, and I can’t fully protect your father’s businesses without it. How the hell does he expect me to if the most important items are floating out
there, unsecured? He doesn’t trust me. Honestly, Francesca, it’s getting hard to justify sticking this out under these conditions. He’s setting me up to fail.”
He’d startled her. “You’re leaving? But, but…what about…”
“I’m beginning to wonder if he even wants me to take over the company.”
She turned her back on him. “Oh…I don’t know. Really?”
“Unless your father has a quick change of heart…” He shrugged. “My leaving might be for the best.”
“How quickly?” She peered over her shoulder, speculation heavy in her gaze.
The warrants expired tomorrow. “Tomorrow. I don’t think waiting longer helps anyone.”
Francesca tightened her robe belt and took a deep breath. When she turned to face him, her smile was overly bright. “It would be a shame to invest all this time only to give up now. I’ll talk to my father.”
“I don’t know. He’ll think I’ve pressured you to approach him and see it as a weakness. That will make things worse.” He shook his head, not needing to fabricate his expression of conflicted emotions.
“So I don’t tell him.” Her smile was wobbly. “Tonight. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
And it was done. He’d seduced her to sin against her father. Francesca was now an unwitting agent of the Feds. “Tell him you’re interested in talking about his business, because that’s what he’s interested in.”
She nodded. “I’ll tell him since we’re marrying, I’ll want to help you. Like”—she swallowed hard— “a business partner. If we really were marrying, that would make sense.”
“Or…” He hesitated, not wanting to burst her bubble, but needing a better plan. “You could talk over dinner tonight. Drop the query in then, angle the conversation to invite discussion about the ledger.”
Worry colored her expression. “Will you be there?”
“I think conversation would flow more freely without me. Your father needs to feel this question is coming from you, for you. He’s proven he doesn’t trust me, or he’d have already told me.”
“If he only knew. You’re the most trustworthy man I’ve ever met.” She said it as if she couldn’t understand her father’s reticence. So innocent. So easily swayed. “I think bringing you into his company is be the best thing he could have done. I just don’t understand his hesitancy. He hired you because he’s dying, but…maybe that’s it. Maybe if he finishes handing all the information over to you, he won’t have an excuse to avoid thinking about his health.”
Seduced by Sin (Unlikely Hero) Page 18