A look passed between them. As high as the passion was at that moment, they were both keenly aware of how well their bodies meshed together. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a glow on Michael’s toned body.
Slowly, he pressed forward, his penis pushing deep, hitting the spot inside her that made her quiver. As his thrusts quickened, her pleasure grew.
“You’re mine,” he growled. He kissed her and leaned into her so her clit rubbed against his pubis. She felt a wave of sensation rush through her like a lightning storm.
“Yes! Oh yes!” she screamed.
Nicole bucked wildly, her legs turning to jelly. She cried out with each deep plunge, whimpering as he slid in and out. It was slow torture, and she writhed uncontrollably from side to side as he sank into her all the way to the hilt. Little contractions from her orgasm sent waves of pleasure from her nipples to her toes.
Michael slowed, lowering her legs. “Turn over,” he ordered, and she quickly did as she was told.
She lay face down on the bed, and he drove into her from behind, grabbing both her ass cheeks in his hands. Nicole gripped the sheets, trying not to scream. She moaned happily instead, each stroke causing her to gasp for air. She rolled her head back with pleasure and opened her legs wider.
From the moment her chest met the silk sheets, she was lost in a world of sensuality—a world that he commanded. He conjured wild shivers with each stroke of his hand, with each nip he gave her sensitive flesh. Nicole knew that Michael was getting close to his own orgasm; she could tell by the speed of his thrusts, the intensity of his breathing.
“Please don’t come inside me,” Nicole said. After having thrown caution to the wind as far as condoms went, she thought she’d better at least make an effort at contraception.
“Of...course...” Michael said between thrusts.
The truth was, she didn’t want him to pull out at all. It felt way too good. But at this rate, there would surely be another time…
“Delicious,” Michael groaned from behind her. He gripped one ass cheek in each hand, and pulled out just as he began to shoot jet after jet of warm creamy come. The sensation of it spraying all over her back was intense, and Nicole wished she were face-up for that final moment.
Michael lay down on top of her, a thin film of come and sweat between them. He kissed her neck and behind her ear. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.
The kisses sent shivers down her spine and between her legs, where her core was still warm from her orgasm. She already missed the feeling of him inside her. She swore to herself that if they were going to be a couple, she would go on the pill so he could remain inside her as he came.
Michael collapsed on his back, closed his eyes, and sighed with pure contentment. He pulled Nicole to his side, and they lay there together, lost thought, until she finally rolled over and put her arms around him.
“Thank you,” she said, overcome with emotion. “That was… amazing.”
~ ~ ~
Nicole opened her eyes and was disappointed to find herself alone in Michael’s room. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and got out of bed, reaching for his shirt, which was draped across the chair. She pulled it on and buttoned only the middle button. Walking by the mirror, she turned and looked at her wild, sexed-up looking hair and her cheeks, reddened by slight whisker burn.
She found Michael standing in the living room with his back to her, staring out at Biscayne Bay. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, hugging him. He turned in her arms and brushed her lips with his, pulling her to his side so they could stand together and stare out at the lights that twinkled across the water.
Michael seemed about to speak several times before he abruptly said, “Why don’t I drive you back to the island, and you can stay at our house? We have plenty of room. That way, I know you’ll be safe.”
She felt as though she’d been slapped; she was safe here. Had his feelings changed so quickly? He seemed closed off, and she wondered what she’d said or done to change things.
“No,” she said after a brief struggle to stay calm. What she wanted was for him to ravish her here, on the terrace overlooking the beach. “I’ll be safe at my house. I’ll lock my bedroom door.” She pinched herself, concentrating, willing herself not to cry.
He cleared his throat and said, “Please change your mind. Caroline counted on me to be your friend.” He hesitated. “She knew, if there came a day when you needed someone, that I would step up.”
Unable to squeeze a single word out through her tight throat, Nicole squared her shoulders and headed to the bedroom to exchange his shirt for her clothing. The ostentatiously large bathroom had everything, and she wished she could indulge in the marble walk-in shower with several showerheads. But she knew that if she stood under the warm water, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears that were threatening to stream down her face. She dressed quickly, holding his shirt to her face for a moment when she was done, inhaling his scent one last time.
She walked into the living room to see Michael staring out the sliding doors with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He must have changed when she was in the bathroom.
She picked up her shoes and smoothed down her dress. “I’m ready to leave.”
He stared at her, lowered his head, his eyes fixed on hers, and brushed her knuckles with a soft sweep of his lips.
Nicole said nothing as he led her to the elevator, trying to ignore his unwavering stare. How stupid could she be? Had this all been about some damn promise to her grandmother?
The eager anticipation she’d felt when they left the island earlier was gone. Now she felt sad, not to mention humiliated. She just wanted to pull the covers over her head and not think about his kisses ever again.
The headlights illuminated the road as they drove down the highway in silence. “Michael, I’ve been thinking about Lucia,” Nicole said into the darkness. “I can’t help feeling sorry for her.”
“Forget about her,” he said sharply.
“I’d feel sorry for anyone who had Chester and Rena Grey for parents,” Nicole said, then hesitated before going on. “Grandmother must have wanted her to have the money or she wouldn’t have made out the withdrawal slip. I’ve decided I’m going to ask Ellis to send her a check.”
The Ferrari turned a sharp corner, and she swayed toward him. Michael resisted the temptation to stop the car and take her in his arms. He’d been hurrying things along between them, but he knew he needed to slow it down. It wasn’t fair to take advantage of her at a time when she was worried and frightened. He also didn’t want her in someone else’s arms. The thought of that made him grind his teeth. A creak from the back seat jerked his thoughts to the present. Get ahold of yourself; it’s only the wind. All this talking about strange voices and intruders climbing out of windows must be getting on his nerves.
“If Lucia is Mrs. Kirkland Alexander, I ought to share the estate with her,” Nicole said.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“I don’t want to give up the house or have to sell it, but I feel a responsibility toward my cousin’s widow. It’s hard to believe she’d feel the same way about the family home as I do, though. I hope I’m not forced to sell.”
“Here’s something you probably never thought of,” Michael said. “Her old friend Zander is a self-confessed blackmailer and thief, and yet she hasn’t attempted to turn him in. Why? The only reason I can think of is that she’s afraid of what will come out. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucia Grey ended up in jail.”
“I hope not.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. That sounds more like the truth than anything I’ve heard so far,” Michael said. “Hold off on any check-writing.”
It surprised her when Michael took one hand from the steering wheel and put his arm around her, drawing her close to him. With his lips close to her ear, he said in a low whisper, “When I say your name, hit the floor. Understand?” For an instant, his cheek pressed against hers. Then he releas
ed her and said, “Nicole, let’s grab a drink in South Beach.”
Before she could move, a voice behind them said, “You’re not going anywhere.” Michael’s foot touched the brake, and the man in the back of the car said, “Keep going, or I’ll let my gun do the talking.”
Nicole took a quick look at Michael by the dashboard lights. She knew her face was drained of color and was unable to control the fear that invaded her body. She met his gaze and managed an uncertain smile.
“It’s loaded, buddy,” the man in the backseat said quietly.
There must be a way to get help. Nicole went over the possibilities, fearing any rash move would result in Michael taking a bullet to the head.
As Nicole shifted her position, the voice warned, “Don’t turn around. I won’t hurt you unless I have to, but I’m not going to give you a chance to identify me.”
“But I can identify you,” Nicole said.
Michael groaned. “Quiet, Nicole. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“He’s the man who broke into my house and threatened Lucia. The same one who chased me along the beach path. He’s Zander Farrell.”
“Shut your mouth,” the man in the back of the car snarled.
“What do you intend to do?” Michael asked. “What do you want from us?”
“Look,” Zander said at last. “I had a different idea when I got into this car. But I changed my mind. I heard what the two of you were saying. You’ve got everything wrong. I could tell you things that would surprise you.”
“You can tell them to me,” Michael said. “Let me take Nicole home first.”
“And have her call the police? You can forget that.”
In the distance, Nicole saw the lights of an approaching car nearing them at a slow speed. As it drew nearer, Michael threw the car into a skid, darting in front of the oncoming car and stalling the motor.
“Down, Nicole!” he yelled, and she dropped to the floor.
The other driver stopped with a screaming of brakes, and Michael threw open his door. “What are you trying to do?” the other driver shouted.
Michael didn’t answer. He jumped out of his seat and raced down the road after the shadowy figure that had dashed out of their car and now darted in and out of the glare of headlights toward the trees.
Nicole sat breathless, listening to the pounding feet. She waited, tense, until the two men came back, walking this time. Zander came blinking into the glare of the headlights, his coat ripped and his face swollen. Behind him walked Michael, the revolver gleaming in his hand.
“Nicole,” he said briskly, “you drive. Farrell and I will ride in the back.” Then he said to the man in the other car, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t do much damage to your car.”
“My car’s fine, but I can’t say the same for my nerves. Where are you taking him?”
“To the police. Stay where you are, Zander,” Michael ordered.
“Do you need any help?” the man asked, but he was already getting back in his car.
“Thanks, I have this under control,” Michael reassured him.
The man didn’t waste any more time; he jumped into his car, his tires squealing as he drove away.
“We need to talk first,” Zander implored. “I told you that you had everything wrong. Let me explain.”
When Michael hesitated, Nicole said, “Give him a chance to explain before turning him over to the police. I, for one, would like to hear what he has to say.”
“We have no way of knowing if he’s telling the truth,” Michael said, reaching for his phone.
“Please,” Nicole said, her voice coming out unsteady and strained.
Michael surrendered. “All right.”’
It was late, but the Edwardses might still have a house full of guests, and she didn’t know where else they could go. Her house seemed the best option. Nicole turned the car towards her house. The two men in the back were silent, though Nicole could see Michael’s face in the mirror, grimmer than she’d known it could be, intently watching the man beside him.
Not a single light was on when they drove up. When they entered the house, Michael caught Nicole’s attention with a sudden movement. He motioned with his eyes for her to leave them alone.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” Nicole said as she got her first clear look at Zander. He moved like a feral cat, slim and dark, with burning eyes that seemed almost black. She realized she’d seen him several times before; she just hadn’t known his name.
Zander met her eyes and then Michael’s; he didn’t seem to be afraid of the gun, which Michael had pointed at his chest.
“Be careful with that,” Nicole said, gesturing to the weapon. “I don’t like the idea of having a dead person on my floor.”
“Not loaded,” Zander admitted.
Nicole looked at Michael, who withdrew the clip, looked at it, and nodded.
“This talk will have to be private.” Zander looked at Michael, then Nicole.
“This is my house, and you just threatened my life,” she said evenly. “I deserve some answers.”
“Please,” Michael mouthed.
Nicole huffed and left the two men alone together. But taking a page from Chester’s book, she stayed nearby to eavesdrop.
She stood behind the door, straining to hear the voices coming from the library. At first, the men yelled profanity-laced threats at one another. Then they cooled down and had a steady dialogue that seemed to last forever and of which she could only make out a word or two. How did Chester do it? Suddenly, she heard a loud crash followed by a thud. Then total silence. She ran into the library.
“Michael,” she screamed as she spotted his motionless body on the floor. She ran to his side and dropped to the floor beside him. “Michael?” she called, her voice laced with concern.
She sat down and cradled his head in her lap, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Zander. Nothing. She whooshed out a breath as Michael’s face began to show signs he was coming around. His breathing seemed shallow. She fished his phone out of his pocket. Tugging at her lower lip with her teeth, she fumbled with the buttons.
“Michael, please wake up,” she pleaded, giving up on the phone for the moment. She pressed his face against her breasts and whispered his name.
“Where’s Zander?” he groaned, rolling out of her arms, catching his head between his hands.
“I don’t know. When I ran into the room, he was gone. I’m calling the police.”
“No,” he yelled, grabbing his phone out of her hands. “I’m going to handle this quietly by myself. No police; there’s no good way to explain what happened tonight. We’d all end up needing lawyers.”
“What did you and Zander talk about? Why did he hit you?”
“Not now, please, my head is killing me.”
Nicole’s emotions burst to the surface and erupted in fury. She jumped to her feet. “What?” she yelled. “A strange man holds us at gun point, and you insist on talking to him alone. Then he knocks you out and escapes, and when I ask what’s going on, all you can say is ‘not now’?”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
“Trust you?” she yelled. “This is my business, and I have a right to worry about this and get some answers. It’s my life, inheritance, and money we’re dealing with. I thought we were in this together. How about trusting me?”
They stared at each other, their eyes locked in a silent duel.
“Leave, I’m tired,” Nicole said, giving him a disgusted look. “I will not be treated like a recalcitrant child. I will not let you make all the decisions and act like my only role in this is to do what I’m told, like I’m not worthy of having my questions answered about my own damn life. From now on, I’ll handle my own problems. Lock the door on your way out.” She brushed past him and raced up the steps.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE WALLS OF Michael’s study were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the books’ leather bindings reflecting the sunlight pou
ring through the French doors. There was a massive desk, deep, comfortable leather chairs, and ambient lighting, which allowed a person to work and read in comfort. The doors stood open, giving a clear view of the backyard, which led down to the private beach. Cecilia had put her personal stamp on the room, with its soft blue walls and fresh greenery from their garden.
“I’ve always liked this room,” Private Investigator Gentry Swain said as he looked around. “This is a room where a man can think undisturbed.”
“I like this room too,” Michael said. “Cecilia took everything I wanted into consideration when she designed it. She did a great job.”
“She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?” said the third man in the group, who stood in front of the open doors.
Michael stole a quick look at Sebastian Brant’s face. Apparently, his matchmaking idea hadn’t been so bad after all. Brant never took his eyes off Cecilia’s face when they were together. I’m positive she feels the same way, Michael thought. She’d been different of late, quieter, caught up in her private thoughts. I hope it works out. Sebastian was a great guy and a good friend—an excellent choice for Cecilia; he could make her happy.
For a few minutes, the three men sat, caught up in their thoughts.
Sebastian was the first to speak. “Well Michael, are you going to tell us why you called us all together? I’m sure Gentry is just as curious as I am. What’s up?”
“There’s one thing I have to let you in on, Sebastian,” Michael started. “As you know, Gentry has been a friend of the family for a long time, as well as a respected member of our business community.”
“I know all that, Michael,” Sebastian said.
“What you don’t know is that Gentry is also an ex-FBI agent. He’s here to help us get this case solved.”
“Why the big secret?” Sebastian asked.
“Gentry felt that as few people as possible should know. In light of what I’m about to say, I thought I should fill you in on what’s been happening. I just got a report,” Michael continued, “that our assumption that the hacking of our computers began in our New York office was correct. Now, however, it seems the base of operations has been switched to the Miami area. They have the same type of land scheme going on in the next county over. And once again, Edwards Inc.’s name is appearing on the transactions.”
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