His San Diego Sweetheart

by Yahrah St. John

  “We have security cameras,” Vaughn said as he walked in. He walked deeper into the main room, looking into each individual office with the police following closely behind him. The place had been tossed about, but as he scanned the room, there were no obvious missing items.

  “Anything missing?” Officer Coyle inquired. He shook his head. “Not that I can see at first glance, but our president and other board members will need to assess the situation.”

  “If nothing is stolen, could have just been some kids involved in criminal mischief. We get that all the time. Young kids with nothing else to do except cause trouble.”

  “Or maybe they were looking for something specific?” Officer Reinhardt offered.

  Vaughn frowned. “Prescott George’s headquarters isn’t well known. There would be no reason for them to target us. I’d like to check the security footage. The cameras should have caught the perpetrators right in the act.”

  He was wrong.

  The camera feed on the computer in the reception desk showed nothing. The thieves had disabled the security cameras. He turned to the officers. “This was no random act. Whoever broke in knew what they were doing. How else could they have known that there were cameras and how to disable them?”

  “So you think it was an inside job?” Officer Coyle frowned, glancing at his partner. “Is there anyone in your organization that has a beef or gripe?”

  Vaughn could think of plenty. There were a number of the older members who thought the organization was going down the wrong path with their new recruits but he couldn’t think of a single one of them who would take it this far. “No, Officer, I don’t think so.”

  Officer Coyle shrugged. “Alright, well, if you’ll sign this—” He pulled out a tablet for Vaughn to sign. Then he handed him a business card. “This has all the details of the police report and it’ll be ready in twenty-four hours for you to pull online and submit to your insurance carrier.”

  Just then, there was a knock on the door and Vaughn could see a gentleman with the logo of the locksmith company on his shirt. “Thank you, officers.” He shook their hands.

  “If you think of anything, feel free to give us a call,” Officer Coyle said.

  Vaughn nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  After he took care of the lock and ensured Prescott George’s offices were secure, Vaughn returned home. On the way, he’d left a message for Christopher to call him first thing in the morning so they could discuss the incident. He had a hard time believing that the old-timers would go to these lengths. It had to be someone else, but who? They’d have to put their heads together and figure out who in their organization could be behind the break-in.

  The house was quiet when he got home. Miranda must have fallen back asleep. His groin tightened thinking about his beautiful wife. Vaughn climbed the stairs eager to see her. He stopped by her bedroom first, checking to see if she’d run scared and gone back to her comfort zone. He was happy to find it empty.

  He climbed one more flight and found her lying in the middle of his bed. However, sometime during the night, she’d gone downstairs and put on one of those silk nighties. Had he been hoping to find her naked and waiting for him? If so, he’d miscalculated. Instead, she was sleeping peacefully. Her hair was spread out around her like a halo on the pillow. She’d never looked lovelier except on their wedding day when she’d walked toward him in a confection of white tulle. He’d been breathless then as he was breathless now.

  Making love with Miranda had been better than he imagined. The responses she’d made when he’d kissed her, touched her and licked her had called out to every primitive male instinct in him to possess her and make her his. And it was messing with his head. With every other woman he’d dated, he’d been in control of their relationship, but not with Miranda. He wasn’t in control when he was with her and he didn’t like the feeling.

  His entire life had always been about structure, discipline and never showing his emotions. It was what the Commander had taught him and how he’d been groomed in the military. Miranda disrupted his well-ordered structure and made him dream, made him feel. And it made him uneasy. Vaughn didn’t know how to show his feelings except in action. He could show her how he felt, but put it into words? That’s where he faltered. Plus, he wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to hear them.

  He pulled off his track suit, tossing it carelessly across a chair, and joined her in bed. She didn’t wake when he reached for her and pulled her toward him. Instead, she snuggled even closer to him. Although he wanted her in his arms, it was going to mean very little sleep. Since her arrival in his life, everything was not in the box Vaughn usually compartmentalized his life in.

  How was he going to navigate the waters of their married life now?

  * * *

  Miranda awoke to find herself nestled in Vaughn’s arms, one thrown across her middle keeping her firmly in place while her rear was planted solidly against his groin. She shifted, trying to move away, but Vaughn merely pulled her into his embrace and that was when she began to feel his morning erection. A tingle began in the pit of her stomach.

  “Relax,” Vaughn whispered from behind her.

  Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded. He was awake? Could he hear her rapid heartbeat?

  “How long have you been awake?” She was afraid to turn around and face him. Afraid he’d see just how much he affected her.

  “Not long. Couldn’t sleep much.” And before she could react, he’d shifted her until they were facing each other. He looked drawn and tired.

  “Because of the break-in?” She, on the other hand, had slept soundly after he’d made love to her so thoroughly.

  He nodded. “I’ve been racking my mind thinking who could have done something like this, and come up empty.”

  “What happened?”

  “Not much actually. Some things were tossed about, but nothing seemed to have been stolen. The police thought it might have been kids involved in criminal mischief.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  His expression was introspective and he was silent for several minutes. “No.” He shook his head. “This was no robbery. Nothing was taken even though there were plenty of expensive electronics. Whoever broke in knew what they were doing because they disabled the security cameras.”

  Miranda frowned. “Do you think it could be a member of Prescott George?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Vaughn tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed. He was bare chested and wearing boxer briefs and she couldn’t help but notice his chiseled abs, tight behind and impressive package. She’d felt him this morning, thought he might even try for another round, but he hadn’t.

  Did he still want her? Had last night been a mistake? Or a one-off?

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I have to go back to Prescott George and help clean up,” Vaughn said and went into the bathroom.

  Seconds later, Miranda heard running water as he took a shower, without her. Vaughn was acting as if nothing had happened between them. That he hadn’t made her cry out and orgasm several times. Could he so easily forget the intimacies they’d shared?

  And if he did, what did that mean for their marriage?

  Chapter 11

  Miranda needed a diversion. She was filled with dread over Vaughn’s blasé attitude about spending the night with her. But could she blame him? The more she thought about it, she had been the one who’d insisted on a marriage of convenience and yet she’d changed the rules last night. He was a man after all and he hadn’t resisted her advances. She’d known he’d wanted her and she allowed herself to give in to that need. And he’d fulfilled her every desire.

  Was that what scared him away?

  Not knowing how he felt or what he was thinking was driving her crazy and putting her on edge. Making her wonder if there was a w
ay out of this mess. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in her decision to marry Vaughn. Was there anything she could do to end their misery? She knew it was a long shot, but she called her legal counsel in Chicago to see if they had found a loophole in her grandfather’s will. Unfortunately, they gave her the same spiel they’d given her over a month ago, which was that their research hadn’t yielded any results. There was no way around her grandfather’s wishes that she marry.

  Miranda felt trapped and had to get out of the house because everywhere she looked, she saw Vaughn and it hurt. So she decided to meet Sasha for lunch. They hadn’t seen each other since the wedding when Sasha had tried to talk her out of marrying Vaughn and “making the biggest mistake of her life.” Despite the awkwardness between her and her husband after making love, Miranda didn’t feel that way. Because of Vaughn’s generosity, she was getting access to her inheritance. Without him, all her hopes and dreams might have gone along the wayside. So if anything, she was grateful to Vaughn.

  She met up with Sasha at a restaurant not far from the beach. Because of Vaughn, she’d quickly become accustomed to the fresh ocean air and the breeze that came with it. Sasha had already arrived and was sitting outside at one of the café tables underneath an umbrella. She rose to greet Miranda. “Hey, love,” Sasha said with a kiss and hug.

  “Hey, girl.” Miranda returned the embrace and sat down across from her.

  “How are you?” Sasha asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been awfully quiet the last couple of weeks since walking down the aisle. How is married life?”

  “Going good, going good.”

  A waitress came over with menus and took their beverage orders. Miranda focused on reviewing the menu, but could feel Sasha’s eyes on her.

  “That answer was a little too pat if you ask me,” Sasha responded. “So let’s be real.” She leaned forward across the café table into Miranda’s personal space. “You married a man you’d only known for barely a week and have spent the last weeks primarily in his company. You know I want the details. What’s he truly like?”

  Miranda put the menu down and settled back in her seat. “He’s pretty wonderful,” she answered honestly. “He’s kind and respectful, thoughtful even.”

  “Those are some amazing traits. Are you surprised?”

  Miranda sighed. “I guess I kind of am. I didn’t know what I was truly getting into. Other than he had an admirable background in the Navy, came from a solid family and was richer than sin.”

  “You forget incredibly handsome,” Sasha added with a mischievous grin.

  Oh she hadn’t forgotten that, thought Miranda. It was the first thing she’d noticed about her husband when he’d come out of the ocean and she’d been treated to his shockingly beautiful body. Those broad shoulders. Those incredibly powerful thighs. He’d had quite an effect on her then and now. When he was within a few feet, she could feel every part of herself. Her breasts would constrict in her bra and there was an ache in the lower half of her body. She was so much more aware of her physicality when she was around him.

  “Yes, my husband is attractive.”

  “And does he find you attractive?” Sasha pressed.

  Miranda blushed. Completely giving herself away. “Yes, I believe he does.”

  “Something tells me you more than believe,” Sasha said, zeroing in on her reluctance to say more. “Have you kissed? I mean other than the wedding?”

  “We have.”

  Sasha sighed heavily. “Jeez! Why are you making me pull this out of you, Miranda? You asked me to lunch because you have something on your mind. So tell me what’s going on. What’s got you so on edge? Or should I ask who?”

  “Alright,” Miranda sighed. “I admit that my relationship with Vaughn has progressed.”

  “You’ve slept with him?”

  Miranda nodded. “Last night. But we didn’t just hop into bed. We took time to get to know each other and so far everything has been going well.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  How was it that Sasha could read her so accurately? They hadn’t seen each other often since they’d graduated from college. Yet, her friend had hit the nail on the head. Was she that obvious? And if she were, why didn’t Vaughn pick up on her anxiety last night and this morning? Instead, he’d rushed to the office. She understood he had to address the break-in, but the least he could have done was acknowledge what had taken place between them.

  “I don’t know.” Miranda finally answered Sasha’s question. “Last night was incredible.” Her face colored admitting it, but it was true. “Better than incredible. But then he got a phone call about a break-in at Prescott George.”

  “The Millionaire Moguls club?” Sasha asked, leaning back in her chair to regard Miranda. “That’s surprising.”

  “As soon he got the call, he rushed off.”

  “Are you upset that he left? Perhaps he was the only person they could reach.”

  “I know that logically,” Miranda responded. “He had to go because they couldn’t reach the president. But once he got back, he didn’t try to wake me up and talk about it. And this morning, he didn’t mention what had transpired between us. Was I just another one of his bed bunnies?”

  “I highly doubt that,” Sasha said. “He married you. Not any of them.”

  Sasha had a point.

  The waitress set down their sparkling waters. They quickly ordered so they could return to the conversation.

  “I know you’re perturbed because he didn’t acknowledge that you’d become intimate, but it’s reasonable that he’d be preoccupied with Prescott George. It’s a prestigious organization and something like this just doesn’t happen to them.”

  Miranda frowned. “You make me sound unreasonable!” She didn’t think so. “I would have just liked to know how he felt. Or if he regretted our time together last night.”

  “No, not unreasonable, just maybe more emotional than Vaughn. You know men are not highly evolved like us, Miranda. They don’t recognize how serious having sex is for us women.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m sure I’m right. But let me ask you something. Are you regretting spending the night with your husband?”

  They hadn’t just had sex, not in Miranda’s mind. They’d made love. What they’d shared had been beautiful and mind-blowing. At least to her. Perhaps Vaughn felt differently, but she didn’t know because he hadn’t deigned to talk about it.

  “Miranda?”

  “I heard you. I don’t regret it,” she finally said. “Or I didn’t, but over the last twelve hours I’ve begun to have my doubts. And his behavior thus far hasn’t helped alleviate my fears.”

  “Don’t overanalyze it too much.”

  “What?” Miranda stared back at her incredulously. “You always analyze everything, Sasha. That’s why you’re such a sought-after marketing consultant.”

  “Precisely,” Sasha said, pointing to her. “That’s business. This is personal. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t be so hard on Vaughn. Give him a little slack. He was forced to leave and turn his back on you to take care of something very near and dear to his heart. You don’t know for sure that he has any regrets. When he gets home later, talk to him about it. Clear the air.”

  Miranda continued her lunch with Sasha. Perhaps she was in her head too much and being too hard on Vaughn. They were going to be married for the foreseeable future and she couldn’t possibly continue with this ambiguity between them. When she returned home later, she was going to find out exactly how he felt. One way or the other.

  * * *

  “So you’ve no idea either who could have done this?” Vaughn asked Christopher when they met up later that morning. Over several hours, they’d made a lot of headway in getting Prescott George’s offices returned to their normal state of order. Couches and chairs were back upright. Paintings that had been
hanging skewed on the wall were perfectly positioned. Papers that had littered the floor last night had been swept up.

  “No, I’ve no idea,” Christopher replied as he paced his office. As an officer of the organization, Christopher had his own office. “We’ve never had something like this happen before. Did the police have any ideas who could have done this?”

  Vaughn shook his head. “They thought it was just teenagers causing trouble, but here’s the thing, Chris. Whoever ransacked this place knew what they were doing.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because they disabled the cameras.”

  “So there’s no footage of the break-in?”

  “Nope. So it had to be an inside job. Someone in the organization or with access to Prescott George. There’s no other explanation.”

  Christopher shook his head. “Vaughn, that’s a crazy notion.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Vaughn persisted. “And it’s naive if you think otherwise. Why would anyone trespass and damage property without taking anything?”

  Christopher seemed introspective as he took in Vaughn’s words.

  “Nothing was taken. Surely you must see the truth in what I’m saying. We have the best and most expensive computers and electronics in this office. And thieves choose to throw things around, damage artwork, but not steal anything?”

  “I guess you’re right. Everything is accounted for, but how do we go about finding out the culprits?”

  “Secretly,” Vaughn said. “We need to identify a list of suspects and quietly investigate them.”

  “Investigate our own members?” Christopher asked. His brown eyes filled with bewilderment. “I can’t believe it’s come to this.”

  “Neither can I, but we have to find out who it is, especially with our benefit coming up and announcement as Chapter of the Year. What’s it going to look like if we’re embroiled in a PR scandal?”

  “I agree with you. I’d like you to hire a private investigator.”

  Vaughn didn’t mind Christopher giving him an order. Prescott George was important to him and he would have been doing it on his own if Christopher still had misgivings. “I think it’s a smart move.”