Uncontrollable

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Uncontrollable Page 11

by Susan Kearney


  The women’s discussion jerked him back to the moment. Melanie’s tone was hurried and hushed. “Donna didn’t say who was following her.”

  “But you think she knew him?”

  “Maybe. She didn’t even say if the person was male or female, but she wouldn’t have been frightened by a woman. When I suggested she call the police, she refused and mentioned a problem at work. At the time, I thought she was changing the subject, but now I’m not so certain that work and whoever was following her weren’t connected.”

  “What kind of problem did she have at work?” Amanda sounded both patient and curious, but Bolt’s impatience was escalating. Melanie seemed to be stalling. Either that or she was a very poor storyteller, and he wished she’d get to the point.

  Melanie took a moment to remove a hanky from her pocket and blow her nose. “Donna wanted to model full-time, but Hathaway wasn’t giving her enough look-sees—going out to visit photographers and clients with the hopes of impressing them to gain a job. She thought Hathaway might be holding her back.”

  Bolt hoped the handkerchief wasn’t a signal to someone else and kept careful watch. A bus rolled by. Taxis seemed to be switching shifts and the blackness of night started to ebb into a dirty gray dawn.

  “I don’t understand.” Amanda remained calm. “Hathaway’s agency earned a commission every time Donna modeled. Wouldn’t he want to find her all the work she could handle?”

  “Apparently Donna had overheard a conversation where a client specifically asked for her. Hathaway told them Donna was busy that day—but she wasn’t.”

  “So you have no proof that the person following her was connected to work, only your suspicions?” Amanda asked.

  Melanie shrugged. “I’m just guessing. I could be wrong, but I’d thought you’d want to know, especially about Hathaway’s diary. Donna told me he wrote everything in it. Perhaps there’s incriminating evidence.”

  “Did Donna say where he kept this diary?”

  Melanie shook her head.

  “Why couldn’t you tell me about my sister on the phone?”

  “Donna made me promise to be careful. She’d heard odd clicks on her phone, believed someone might be opening her mail, and then she was dead. I spoke to a lawyer and he said not to bother the police. I didn’t have any real evidence to help them solve Donna’s murder. And—”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t want to get involved,” Melanie sounded torn, guilty but frightened. “If someone believes that I know more than I do, they might decide to kill me, too.”

  Amanda hugged the other woman. “I understand. Thank you for meeting me. Could you tell me one other thing?”

  “If I can.”

  “Do you know if my sister showed my picture around Hathaway’s office to anyone else?”

  Good question. Clearly Hathaway was in the dark about Amanda’s identity, otherwise he probably would have confronted or simply refused to hire her. But someone else at the company might recognize her as Donna’s sister and tell Hathaway. Knowing how easily her cover could be blown made Bolt uneasy. He didn’t like depending on Melanie’s silence to keep Amanda safe—but what choice did he have? Vowing to redouble his vigilance, he perused the street but saw nothing of concern.

  “I don’t know if she showed around the picture or not. But I haven’t said a word to anyone.”

  Melanie’s statement only partially reassured him. She could easily be lying, setting a trap. Trusting Amanda’s safety to a stranger rubbed him wrong. And yet, Bolt had been in this business long enough to know that help could come from unusual sources.

  “Thanks. Is there some way to get in touch with you if I have more questions?”

  Melanie shook her head again. “It’s too dangerous. I’ll contact you. And if you find the diary, I’d like to know if it helps you.” Melanie briskly turned and limped away.

  Bolt didn’t totally relax until he and Amanda were digging into breakfast at the corner diner. Something was niggling at the back of his mind. His gut told him the meeting was a setup, but he had yet to discern what had his hackles up. He hoped the tail he now had on the mysterious Melanie would unearth something.

  Perhaps his growing protectiveness toward Amanda was to blame. She’d lost her parents and now her sister. He would make damn sure she didn’t suffer another blow.

  He ordered coffee, a toasted bagel with cream cheese, lox, capers and onions. Amanda preferred a Western omelet with orange juice and coffee. He appreciated that she didn’t chatter, giving him time to contemplate her conversation with Melanie, but by the time the food arrived, he had yet to figure out what was wrong.

  Amanda dug into her food with enthusiasm and he enjoyed watching her eat. Too often women picked at their food and pushed it around their plate but never seemed to put any in their mouths. Amanda, however, ate with a delicate and enthusiastic sensuality. He liked watching her lift a bite to her lush lips. He enjoyed her satisfaction as she tasted her food and swallowed.

  “The coffee’s heaven.” She eyed him over the brim of her cup.

  “Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.”

  She raised a speculative eyebrow at his partially eaten food. “The bagel’s not to your liking?”

  “The food’s fine, but something about Melanie’s bothering me.” He lifted the bagel, bit and chewed, the odd combination of flavors one that he hadn’t tried until another Shey Group operative who’d grown up in New York turned him on to it. He loved the food in New York and the city’s vibrancy, so different from the slower pace of home.

  “Melanie didn’t grovel over Hathaway as every other model does.”

  “That’s it!” Bolt swallowed the last bite of his bagel. “You’re brilliant.”

  “I am?” She grinned and then rubbed her brow as if she had no idea what he was talking about. “I didn’t want to push it by asking Melanie about Hathaway. She was spooked enough as it was.”

  “Well, at least it seemed as though she isn’t in collusion with Hathaway. Otherwise he would know your identity.”

  “Maybe he does know.” She shivered. “Maybe he’s waiting to kill me as he did Donna.”

  “If he knows your identity, he will never hire me. But if he offers me the job, we’ll know your cover is still good.” Bolt was certain of that much. “I think your cover is safe for now. But I get the feeling Melanie’s hiding something and using us for her own purposes. She sure wants us to find his diary.”

  “Maybe he wrote about Melanie in it.”

  “That makes sense. I’d be willing to bet my next paycheck that Melanie was just as affected by Hathaway as every other woman, but after her accident she couldn’t get near him. A man like Hathaway surrounds himself with beautiful, successful people. Hathaway wouldn’t want to be seen or photographed with Melanie. The man’s all about his image.”

  She ignored the cup of coffee in her hand. “So you think Melanie was living vicariously through my sister? That she pretended to listen to Donna’s modeling stories when in reality she wanted to hear about Hathaway?”

  “Maybe.” Bolt frowned. “We need to go deeper into Melanie’s background. She seemed way too eager for us to find that diary, as if she has reasons of her own to hate Hathaway and wants us to do the dirty work. But we need to be careful. I don’t trust Melanie or her information.”

  “Okay.” Amanda checked her watch. “But if I don’t want to be late, I need to leave for work.”

  * * *

  BOLT DIDN’T HAVE an opportunity to talk to Amanda in private until they met on the roof for lunch. He handed her a corned beef sandwich with sauerkraut on rye bread and a dill pickle. “Hope you have a breath mint.”

  “Who cares?” She bit into the sandwich. “Delicious.”

  Since she hadn’t pressed the panic button, Bolt assumed she hadn’t been around Hathaway this morning. And he was still waiting for the phone call to summon him to check Hathaway’s security.

  Amanda sipped from a diet soda. “You look ha
ppy with yourself.”

  “I did more research on Melanie Carter. She and Hathaway were once an item.”

  “Now that’s interesting.” Amanda cocked her head to the side. “That might help confirm your theory that Melanie was more interested in Hathaway than my sister’s modeling career.”

  “I haven’t told you the best part.”

  “What?” Her eyes brightened in anticipation.

  “Hathaway supports Melanie. After deep digging we found a connection between one of his subsidiaries and checks to Melanie.”

  “Was he involved in the car accident?”

  “No. He was in Milan at the time.”

  “And they never married or had a child?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe they’re friends.”

  “I don’t think so. Here’s the strange part. There are no records of any phone calls between them. If they were friends, or if he was paying her out of kindness, we should have found something.”

  “Hathaway doesn’t seem the type to be quietly charitable. If he was giving her money on the up and up, he’d want publicity for helping an injured ex-model.”

  “True,” Bolt agreed.

  “I don’t understand why Melanie mentioned the diary. It’s almost as if she wants us to search Hathaway’s private quarters. But what could be in a diary that’s so important to her?”

  He shrugged. “Since we’re searching for the bottle, it won’t hurt to look for the diary as well. If he has a bedroom safe, he might keep the diary and the perfume bottle there together. If we get in, maybe we’ll both find what we’re after.”

  Bolt finished his sandwich. Food tasted better around Amanda. The sky seemed bluer, even on an overcast day. And out here on the roof, she looked wonderful.

  Bolt wasn’t eager to find the perfume bottle. That would mean their working together would come to an end. As much as he worried about her being alone with Hathaway, he needed more time with Amanda. Time to figure out what he wanted from her.

  But how?

  While the mission had to come first, Bolt was determined to make the most of their time together. And later, he’d simply have to use his ingenuity to ensure they had a chance to work out what they wanted from each other.

  Her cell phone rang. “Hello?” She signaled Bolt with a thumbs-up and a wide smile. “Yes, sir. I know a security expert. He used to work for my former boss. I’ll give him a call and see if he’s available.”

  Bolt loved a good plan. And Hathaway had just bitten into the bait. Now all he had to do was hook him and reel him in.

  8

  AMANDA RETURNED to Hathaway’s office with a plan to try to befriend a few of Hathaway’s models in the hope of finding out gossip about the agent and Melanie. But the newer models were too busy to chat and the more experienced ones didn’t deign to speak with Hathaway’s executive assistant unless they wanted something.

  So Amanda bided her time and hoped that Bolt would secure the security expert’s job so he could work in the office alongside her. Although she knew he was always close by, she looked forward to him being able to roam freely through the offices. She’d set up the meeting between Hathaway and Bolt for midafternoon. And with so much riding on the outcome, as the interview hour approached, her nerves drew taut. It didn’t help that she’d barely slept the night before.

  In a very short time, she’d learned to rely on Bolt to protect her. Early this morning, when he’d watched her back while she’d spoken to Melanie, she’d felt safer due to his presence. Sure, the closer he could remain, the quicker he could intervene with any nefarious plans Hathaway might have. Just the memory of Hathaway’s penetrating gaze on her made her antsy. Knowing he was in his office, and could call her in any time he desired, had her on edge. And yet, relying on Bolt, knowing he’d protect her, made her realize that sharing the danger was creating a heightened sense of trust between them.

  Hathaway was up to something. Every instinct warned her that he was scheming to have her. She’d seen the predatory hunger in his eyes and understood that a man like Hathaway was unaccustomed to anyone defying his wishes.

  Exactly one hour before Bolt was to arrive, Hathaway requested she come to his office. Her stomach knotted with dread. Sixty minutes could be a very long time to resist the man if he tuned his electric magnetism to high voltage. In his presence, she wished she could close her eyes, plug her ears and hold her breath to resist whatever he did to engage the erotic center of her brain.

  But she had no idea how his powers worked. She only knew that at his summons both trepidation and anticipation filled her, and that her abnormal excitement and adrenaline rush was a telltale signal that he was already beginning to affect her.

  Damn.

  Stalling, she fixed coffee for Hathaway but none for herself. Despite walking slowly, she managed to delay only a few minutes before entering his office. She expected to find him behind his desk, but he stood at the window, surveying the city street below as if it were his private domain.

  “We need to discuss last night.” When he turned to her, his stance reminded her of a predatory cat about to pounce.

  Before she dropped the coffee cup, she set it on his desk. While she suspected he was referring to the electronic bug she’d found, his words had been ambiguous and could just as easily be regarding her orgasm. Unwilling to comment until she was certain of the subject, she remained silent, barely refraining from twisting her fingers together.

  “You were most helpful.” His tone was curt, thoughtful and not the least bit kind. His glinting eyes reminded her of diamonds, powerful and cutting.

  “As executive assistant, it’s my job to help you.”

  “Good. Then help me out, again.”

  His hard eyes pinned her and her nerve endings fired. All of them. It was if he’d waved an invisible magic wand and showered her in lust. Her body instantly turned on, and with pulse-pounding certainty, she knew he was determined to have her. Right here in his office. Right now.

  Bolt’s coming.

  But not for an hour.

  Get a grip.

  How?

  Focus on business.

  “When Bob Timmins arrives, he’ll sweep your office for other electronic devices. He’ll also test your phone system and computers. He suggested doing so here in the office, in your limo and in your home.”

  Hathaway nodded and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I usually prefer to work with women. I find them much more amenable and willing to follow orders.”

  Again, he drenched her with lust. Only the idea of “Bob Timmins” showing up for the interview and finding her naked with Hathaway kept her from ripping off her clothes.

  She licked her bottom lip. “My former employer was very satisfied—”

  “With you?”

  “With Mr. Timmins,” she corrected, continuing to play dumb although she knew damn well that Hathaway was toying with her. But he couldn’t possibly know that her breasts ached and her nipples were hard. He couldn’t know that her panties were damp. He couldn’t know that, when she placed her hand into her jacket pocket and deliberately poked her finger with a thumb tack, the pain barely registered.

  “So tell me, Amanda. How do you like working for me?”

  She didn’t want to answer personal questions, yet she had to take care not to offend him. If he fired her, she’d never get the proof she sought. Amanda took a deep breath, cocked her head to one side and appeared to be thinking about his question. Every second she stalled was another moment closer to Bolt’s ETA and she would no longer be alone with Hathaway. “I haven’t been here long enough to come to any conclusions.”

  “Come on. Are you telling me that I haven’t made an impression on a bright girl like you?”

  “Oh, you’ve made an impression. The office is beautiful—”

  “I’m not asking about the decor.”

  “And your models are—”

  “I’m not asking about the models, either.”

  If his powe
rs were a storm, the wind would have been gale force. She’d been standing but her legs shook so badly, she feared her knees could no longer support her. She sank into a chair, but now she had to tilt her head back to look at Hathaway and his eyes glittered, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. And she hated how difficult it was to resist lusting after him when she despised him.

  “Amanda, I’m asking if you like working with me.”

  “Oh. It’s been…” She couldn’t finish. She hated the man and he was turning her on. Oh, God. She was drawn so taut she thought she might explode for real even without Bolt’s touch. Her mind was reeling from Hathaway’s assault and she needed every working brain cell to resist, but Hathaway was playing word games, forcing her to split her concentration.

  Gritting her teeth, she focused. She needed to come up with an inoffensive response.

  “You were saying?” Hathaway prodded.

  “Working for you…is interesting.”

  She couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation much longer. Not when she was having trouble keeping from panting. Not when she was barely controlling the urge to beg. She glanced at her watch and only five minutes had gone by. She wasn’t going to hold out for an hour.

  The thumb tack wasn’t working as she’d hoped. She had the feeling if she tried to flee the office, Hathaway would stop her. And if he touched her, she might give in to the need burning through her like a wildfire.

  She was losing control. She needed Bolt. Reaching into her pocket, she pressed the panic button. And prayed like hell that Bolt was only one floor below and would get here fast.

  “Interesting.” Hathaway drummed his fingers on his desk as he loomed over her. “ Interesting is rather a bland word. Surely you can do better?”

  “I’m not a walking thesaurus,” she snapped, totally annoyed that he wanted her to think. She wasn’t in the mood for mind games. No, she’d much rather…

 

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