For this particular man.
Borne on his arm and the swirling water, Arabella stared blindly up at the skylike ceiling and slid her hands through his wet hair. Feeling him dip and taste, dip and kiss, dip and delight.
Her legs tangled with his and her ponytail swirled around them and she hovered there in a suspension of pleasure, oblivious to everything except him.
I think you should know that...
He jerked his head up suddenly and swore. With a splash, his hand grabbed hers and her feet hit the bottom of the pool.
“Wha—”
“Someone’s out there,” he said under his breath. He was practically propelling her right out of the hot tub and she stubbed her toe on the step as she gained her footing and yanked at her top.
In one fell swoop, he grabbed up his shirt and her towel and their shoes while she snatched the strap of her book bag, upending the lightweight chair in the process. The racket it made echoed against the travertine and Jay didn’t even stop at the control panel to kill the hot tub jets. Their feet slapped wetly on first tile, then soundlessly on carpet as he pulled her around a corner and into an alcove next to a large metal ice machine.
“Who was it?”
“Sshh.” He cupped her head against his chest and edged deeper into the alcove. There wasn’t a lot of space for their bodies and it was so dark she couldn’t see. Only a slight gleam of light reflected over the stainless steel of the ice machine.
Adrenaline rushing through her veins, she slid her arms around him and huddled close despite the bundle of shirt and towel caught between them. His heart beat as fast as hers. She knew because she could feel it pulsing against her cheek. When his hand drifted upward and grazed her bare breast, desire cramped hard inside her. Until she realized he was just pulling up the straps of her halter to tie it behind her neck once more.
She pressed her forehead against him and suddenly wanted to laugh. And not being able to do so exacerbated the need to.
When the ice machine suddenly vibrated loudly and belched out a fresh batch of cubes somewhere in its metal innards, a muffled snort escaped, despite her best efforts to contain it.
She felt his chest rumble with silent laughter, too. His head dipped and his lips brushed her ear. “Sshh.”
She clung to him even more tightly, plastering her mouth against the bulge of his biceps. His rumbling silent laughter increased and he twisted slightly, picking her up at the waist and pressing her back against the narrow wall behind her. “Sshh,” he murmured again and then kissed her.
She forgot about laughing, then.
She twined her arms more tightly around his shoulders and her calf knocked into the ice machine as she mindlessly wrapped her legs around his hips.
His weight against her was heady. The rub of his tongue against hers delicious. When his head lifted too soon, she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back. “Don’t go,” she said against his mouth.
He let out a sound, equally muffled. Half exultant. Half frustrated.
All perfect to her ears.
He dragged his mouth from hers, running it along her cheek. “It’s the cleaning crew,” he whispered. “Hear the vacuum?”
She hadn’t. Not above her pounding pulse and the ice maker and the rush of music inside her head whenever his mouth touched her.
“Stay here.” He disentangled himself from her. “There’s a security camera in the hall around that corner. So stay here.” He edged out from their hiding hole.
If there was a camera, why was he leaving?
She didn’t have a chance to voice the question, because he was already gone.
She exhaled deeply and unwound her book bag strap from her forearm where it had twisted around without her notice. She slid it over her head crosswise then stuffed his shirt inside. She was cautiously feeling around the floor with her foot for the towel that she’d dropped when he returned.
He grabbed her arm. “We’ve got to be fast.” He pulled her back around the way they’d come, then he pushed her head down while they dashed—bent nearly in half—through the weight-lifting section of the fitness center. The lights were all turned on now, clearly illuminating them if they were noticed. His route made little sense to her, but there was no time to argue. Not with the way he dragged her along after him.
On the other side of the room, one person was using the big vacuum, another was polishing surfaces and a third wielded some sort of wand that emitted a fine cloud over the workout equipment.
None of them so much as glanced their way, not even when Jay pushed open the same one-way door they’d used to enter.
They slipped through, and he held on to the edge of the door with his fingertips, gingerly letting it close with a soft snick.
As soon as it was closed, Arabella dropped her bag on the ground and started laughing. “I can’t believe they didn’t see us!”
Jay’s laughter was deep and rich, too. His hand curled around the back of her neck and he pressed a fast kiss to her lips. “So much for a therapeutic soak.” He grabbed her hand. “The pool’s free game, though. What do you say?”
“I dropped my towel. And you don’t even have one.”
In answer, he grabbed the strap of her bag and pulled her around the side of the hotel to where the pool was located. “Good grief,” he said as he hefted the bag. “What’re you carrying in here?”
“Notebooks.”
“Full of what?” He curled his arm as if he was weightlifting. “Feels like you’re carting around a couple of my grandmother’s garden binders.”
“Nothing so productive.” She rubbed her nose, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Just stuff I...write.”
“Journals?”
Sure. That was close enough. She made a sound he took for agreement.
“Dear Diary.” Beneath the swag of lights crisscrossing high atop the pool area, Jay’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Tonight, I nearly got caught by—”
She reached up and pressed her hand over his mouth. “Stop!”
She felt his smile against her palm and her stomach swooped. She should have felt chilly in her damp swimming suit. Instead, she felt warm from the inside out.
She pulled her hand away and turned to face the pool again.
Even at that hour there were a half-dozen people in the water playing a noisy game of water volleyball. A few more guests lounged on the chaises surrounding it. They all had drinks in their hands, served up from the bar situated next to a small dais where a trio of musicians played live music. On the other side of the musicians sat another table with pale blue hotel towels stacked on it.
Jay gestured. “See? Towels.”
He was impossible to resist even when he was being impossible. When he was grinning at her the way he was now? It was a lost cause altogether. “Why would the hot tub be reserved only for guests but the pool isn’t?”
He shrugged. “The hot tub accommodates twenty people and the pool handles a lot more? I don’t know. Ask your brothers. They’re more likely to know the answer to that than me.”
She made a face. “If my brothers find out I’m here with you swimming, you’re going to regret all of this.”
His lips twitched. “Pretty sure I’m not.”
I think you should know that...
...I’m the perfect guy for you.
His confidence was intoxicating. “Swimming pool it is.” She stepped off the paved pathway and cut across the grass diagonally toward the nearest chaise lounge. She dropped her bag on it and kicked off her sandals and slid into the water.
In comparison to the night air, it felt warm and welcoming. Not quite at the level that the hot tub had, but it was still wonderful.
She expected Jay to follow her in, and when he didn’t, she slicked her hair out of her eyes and looked back at him. “Well?”
He was no longer smiling. Instead he was staring fixedly toward the bar where a tall man was watching them.
Then the man walked toward Jay and she saw the glint of a badge on his belt.
That’s when she placed him. He was the officer at the municipal building.
Not officer. Detective. Detective Teas.
“Cross,” he said as he stopped in front of Jay.
“I’ve already answered all your questions,” Jay said flatly. “I don’t know what else you want from me.”
“I’m not here to question you again,” the detective said. “Not yet, anyway.”
Arabella frowned. She was barely aware of the way Jay and the police detective had drawn the attention of the guests nearest them as she started up the steps. The night air no longer felt hot and balmy, the water no longer soft and warm.
Jay’s face tightened even more. He looked hard and nearly unrecognizable. “Then what—”
The detective raised his hand. “There’s been an incident. With your grandmother.”
Water splashed as Arabella scrambled out of the pool. She slid her hand into Jay’s.
He didn’t spare her a glance, but his fingers closed tightly around hers. “What kind of incident?”
The detective looked suddenly uncomfortable. “She and Mabel Forsythe got into it over at Provisions. Afraid they were both hauled in for—” He broke off, grimacing.
Arabella hugged Jay’s arm to her. “For what?”
“Public brawling,” the detective finally said, looking pained. “She’s gonna need you to bail her out.”
Chapter Eight
“Well? Anything you have to say for yourself?” Jay peered through the bars of the cell. It was empty except for his grandmother. An identical cell next to it held Mabel Forsythe.
Both women sat on the hard benches that lined the perimeter of each cell. They had their backs to one another and their arms folded across their chests.
At his grandmother’s stoic silence, he sighed and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “If Mom finds out about this—”
“She’d better not,” his grandmother warned. “I keep your secrets, you better be prepared to keep mine.” She suddenly looked over her shoulder at the woman sitting behind her. “And if I hear you’ve been spreading tales, Mabel Forsythe, I’ll hunt you down and finish what we started.”
Mabel looked fit to spit.
“She didn’t mean that, Mrs. Forsythe,” Jay soothed.
“The hell I didn’t!”
He eyed her. “Threats aren’t going to help the situation here, Granny. If you want me to post bail—” he’d already done it, but she didn’t need to know that “—then you’re going to have to explain yourself.”
She harrumphed and folded her arms again, looking prepared to sit there until kingdom came.
If his grandmother wouldn’t talk, then maybe Mabel would.
He moved past his grandmother’s cell—just thinking those words made something inside his head clang painfully—and stopped in front of Mabel. “What about you, Mrs. Forsythe? Do you want to explain what went on over at Provisions tonight?” Teas had already told him that Mabel’s daughter-in-law was driving in from Dallas to post bail, but she would be hours getting there yet. “I might be willing to look at paying your bail if—”
“You’d damn well better not,” Louella said furiously. “You’ll have your grandpa rolling over in his grave if you spend one red cent on that woman.”
That woman had risen to her feet, too, wrapping her arthritic fingers around the cell bars as if she were prepared to push them apart Samson-style. “Herb would still be alive if he’d married me instead of you.”
“You miserable—” Louella reached through the bars and yanked on Mabel’s hair, pulling the glossy brown coif askew to reveal the sparse white hair beneath.
“Ladies!” Detective Teas strode into the holding area and his bark echoed around the cement walls. “And believe me. Right now I’m using that term generously.” He glared at the women. “Keep it up and I’ll keep you both here all night. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is for her to admit she stole my strawberry jam recipe fifty years ago!” Mabel tugged her wig into place with a sharp jerk. “Just like she stole Herbert twenty years before that.”
“Herb never gave you the time of day and you know it, Mabel. And that recipe was my mother’s before it was mine. I have it written down in her handwriting in my recipe card box.”
“Lies.”
“And you can’t cook your way out of a pot of stone soup! That’s why your Donny, God rest his poor soul, kept coming over to eat dinner with Herb and me!”
Teas sent Jay a weary look. “They’ve been at it like this since we brought them in.” He unlocked Louella’s cell and pulled open the door. “Sooner you get her out of here, the sooner we’ll all have a little peace and quiet.” He beckoned. “Come on now, Mrs. O’Brien.”
His grandmother gave Mabel a goading smirk as she sauntered out of her cell. “I’m sure your daughter-in-law will be here soon. We all know how fond she is of you.” She glanced up at Jay as they followed the detective out of the holding area. “Only reason Donny Jr. moved to Dallas was because Charlene refused to live in the same town as his mama.” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down and Mabel obviously heard, because her shrieks followed them until the heavy door to the holding area clanged shut behind them.
“Here.” Teas handed Jay a sheaf of papers. “Judge has ordered your grandma and Mrs. Forsythe to keep one hundred yards away from each other until their hearing’s scheduled.” He focused on Louella. “Ma’am, you understand that if either one of you breaks that order, you’re both gonna end up in a cell for a mite longer than a couple hours?”
“Might be worth it,” Louella grumbled, “just to make her suffer.”
“You’d suffer, too,” Jay pointed out. He gestured toward Arabella, where she sat on a bench looking worried. “Now go over there and say hello to Arabella. She’s the one who drove me here.”
“I don’t appreciate being spoken to as if I’m five,” his grandmother said thinly.
“Then don’t act as if you’re five,” he returned.
Her lips compressed and she turned away from him, marching across the room to Arabella.
Jay blew out a breath and looked back at the detective. Even though he’d spent the last few weeks loathing the other man, he knew that Teas could’ve made this situation a lot more difficult. He extended his hand. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
Teas looked resigned. He shook Jay’s hand. Firmly. But briefly. “First time I’ve ever arrested two women of their...ah...”
“Maturity?”
“Afraid maturity wasn’t one of the things on display.” He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Do your best to make sure she follows the judge’s order,” he advised.
“I will.” Jay started to turn away, but looked back at the detective. “How did you know where I was tonight, anyway?” He hadn’t seen his grandmother since morning. She hadn’t known where he’d be, any more than he’d known she was going to have dinner at Provisions with her supposed friend Mabel Forsythe.
“You’re not going to like the answer.” Teas glanced past him.
Arabella and Jay’s grandmother were sitting together now. Jay wasn’t sure if the fact that they looked deep in discussion worried him more or less than whatever Teas was going to answer. “Regardless. I still want the answer.”
Teas capitulated with a small shrug. “We’ve had you under surveillance since the day I brought you in for questioning.”
Of all the things Teas could have said, that was the last thing Jay expected.
His jaw tightened until it ached. “Surveillance,” he said through his teeth when he could finally form a word that didn’t involve the furious outrage bubbling in
side him. “You’re wasting a helluva lot of time and taxpayer dollars.”
Teas pursed his lips. “Not so sure ’bout that. You’re hiding something, Mr. Cross. There’re just too many gaps in your timeline for my taste. And I’m the kind of detective who tends to follow up on that sort of thing.”
Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “My private business has nothing to do with Hotel Fortune’s misfortunes.”
The detective was unswayed. “Sounds like the name of a bad song, Mr. Cross.”
Jay returned the man’s stare. If the cop was looking for a reaction, he’d wait a long while.
And then he felt Arabella touch his arm. “Jay.”
He finally looked away from Teas.
“It’s really late,” she murmured softly. “I think your grandmother’s exhausted.”
He exhaled sharply. Of course she was exhausted. Once Jay and Arabella had arrived at the station, it had taken a few more hours before the bail had been processed. And now, it was nearly 3:00 a.m.
He didn’t exchange another word with Teas as he went to collect his grandmother from the bench. Exhausted she might be, but the only evidence of it was in her eyes. He still took her arm as they left the municipal building.
Arabella led the way, glancing over her shoulder periodically as if she were nervous.
Police stations probably had that effect on most law-abiding citizens.
She’d changed out of her swimsuit into a swingy yellow sundress before they’d driven to the station. Jay, on the other hand, was wearing the wrinkled shirt she’d pulled from her canvas purse and a pair of old cowboy boots he’d fortunately had stored in his truck.
God only knew where he’d managed to drop his tennis shoes during their escape from the fitness center.
The end result, though, was that Arabella looked like a ray of sunshine and he looked like an advertisement for Menswear Don’t.
At least the only ones following him around these days were the cops who didn’t care what he looked like so long as they kept trying to link him to the balcony collapse.
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