Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4)

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Stealing Gold (The Logan Series Book 4) Page 9

by Sally Clements


  That was her past. She could make her own future.

  She scanned the water. Adam had disappeared. A moment later, she shrieked as something touched her ankle. Before she could register what it was, she toppled into the waves. Then Adam’s strong arms were around her, holding her safe. She spluttered and blinked water out of her eyes.

  “You…” She couldn’t hold back laughter. “You bastard!”

  With a grin, he tightened his hold.

  Her arms curved around his neck, and she tugged at his hair. “Have you thought about my proposition?” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to be my man candy, or do I need to look elsewhere?”

  He growled and bit her neck softly, sending a tremor through her. “If you’re determined to mess around with someone over the next few weeks, you can forget targeting anyone else, I won’t stand for it.” One hand flattened over her breast. “Just as long as we both know the rules.”

  “No falling in love.”

  He nodded. “Friends with benefits. No regrets.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss on her lips. “No regrets,” he whispered again, reinforcing his words.

  “Your life is fun.”

  He’d always done exactly what he wanted, when he wanted. Had a tribe of Logans guarding his back, and supporting him unconditionally. Her mood dipped. Her life had never been like that. Lester had never cared about her at all, even though she’d thought he did. She breathed in deep. “I want my life to be fun too.”

  “Fun means accepting the unexpected.” He nibbled her ear.

  “I didn’t expect a stranger arriving at the front door with my panties.” It was the first time anyone had ever called her Mrs Logan, a title she no longer held. Adam had called her his wife, and even though it was no doubt meant to intimidate Paddy, a warm feeling had spread through her at being publicly claimed. As though she was part of his family too.

  His gaze swept the shoreline, then his fingers hooked into the straps of her swimsuit and peeled down the top. “I bet you weren’t expecting this either.”

  Her nipples pebbled in the cold water, until Adam cupped her breasts with his big hands. “I could introduce you to sex in the sea, but I reckon it’s overrated. And rolling around on the beach will get sand where the sun don’t shine.” He squeezed, then pulled up her swimsuit. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Ten

  A couple of days later, she stayed late recording, and got a lift home with Christine rather than call Adam to collect her.

  There was no sign of him when she let herself in, but the lamps were lit, and he’d lit a fire, making the cottage warm and welcoming. With a smile, she kicked off her shoes, strode into the kitchen to place the Indian take-out she’d brought home into the oven to keep warm, then went to find him.

  The bedroom was empty. The bathroom too.

  His office was dark.

  A noise came from the room she had yet to investigate—the one he’d called his home gym. She pushed open the door quietly.

  A long black leather bag swung from the ceiling, shaking with every punch of his boxing glove clad fists. He wore only a pair of black shorts, and his wide expanse of chest was gleaming with sweat. The cut of defined muscles flexing in his back, his strong legs, made her feel hot and needy.

  She’d loved his lean and rangy body before, but he hadn’t sported a six-pack like he did now. Adam’d always been so cerebral—it was something she’d found infinitely sexy about him.

  But buff worked too.

  When they were together, he’d spent most of his time inside—his attention glued to his computer. Unlike his brothers, he had no time for sport, or that was how it had seemed. Things had definitely changed.

  Something alerted him to her silent presence. He glanced behind him, and a wide, sexy smile spread on seeing her.

  “Hey, you’re home.”

  His shorts hung low on his lean hips, emphasizing the V between his hipbones.

  “I always meant to ask you. What happened to your glasses?”

  “Laser eye surgery.” He grabbed a bottle of water and drank. Even the movement of his throat as he swallowed was arousing.

  “I didn’t know you boxed.”

  “I started after I got rid of the glasses.” He put down the water, and stalked toward her. “Boxing and glasses don’t mix.”

  She glanced around the room. “So this is the gym, huh?”

  “It’s not great.” He grinned. “But let me give you the tour.” He clasped her hand. “Here we have the boxing area: one punchbag, one pair of gloves. He waved at the bottle of water. “The refreshment center.”

  She swallowed a giggle.

  “And over here, we have the rowing machine. If you sit up really straight, you can see the ocean through the window.”

  “So it’s just like the real thing.”

  He nodded.

  “Do you need to be a member to use the gym?”

  “It’s very exclusive, but you haven’t seen it all yet.” He pushed the door closed to reveal a hook on its back. “We have two pieces of classic exercise equipment here.” He took them off the hook and held out the other. “Skip?”

  “I’ll skip it.” Fooling about with him was fun. “I brought dinner.”

  “I eat dinner.” His eyebrows rose. “But I’m sorta sweaty. I should shower.”

  “Oh, coincidence. I also shower.” She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

  She washed his chest. He washed her hair, her feet, and every place in between.

  “I really like this bathroom.” She gasped as he ran the sponge over her thighs. “It’s surprisingly big.”

  “That’s the effect you have on me.” He tilted her chin and kissed her deep and wild. She wrapped her arms around his slippery torso, feeling giddy with joy. He’d always had a particular effect on her too. He made her happy. When they’d been newlyweds in their tiny apartment they’d plugged in his collection of game playing machines and raced cars around the screen. Had on screen kickboxed, with him always choosing to be the busty female warrior while she favored the muscle-bound barbarian.

  He’d even bought a sing along program, and they’d spent happy hours blasting out power ballads, always trying to outdo each other. He did a particularly impressive Freddie Mercury impression, if she remembered.

  His hands slipped and slithered over her soapy breasts. She pushed him back against the tiles and curled her hand around his rigid length. Maybe they could play those games later, but right now there were other, more physical games to play.

  *****

  “Do I look okay?”

  It had been almost a week since that topless kiss in the sea, and Stacy stood before him in the living room, one hand on her hip while the other played with the silver buckle of her belt. Ink black jeans clung to her thighs and tapered to her ankles. Wedge heels made her legs go on forever.

  Her hair, the color of butterscotch, was pulled back into a high ponytail emphasizing the slash of her cheekbones, and she’d done something different to her eyes, something with eyeliner and shadow transforming her into the type of mysterious heroine that might knock on Sam Spade’s door.

  She said something, but god knows he couldn’t remember what.

  Women’s clothes were amazing. Her top was made of some clingy gold fabric that shimmered when she moved. His ring glittered on her finger. Not the marriage finger; the one on the other hand. She started wearing it today, and he was not the only one at the studio to notice.

  They hadn’t been keeping the relationship secret, but they hadn’t been flaunting it either, unless you count the ring wearing.

  “Adam.” Stacey waved a hand in front of his face. “Is this too casual? Too dressy?” She smoothed her hands over her thighs. “Should I wear something else?”

  “You look amazing.” Every day since that evening in the sea, they’d kissed whenever they wanted. He reached for her, but she danced away.

  “Uh-oh. No. We’ll be late.”

  Sh
e grabbed the clean shirt he’d left on the bed and brandished it in front of him. “Anyway, you can’t be ready again.” She grinned as her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans.

  After work, they’d tumbled onto the sofa and ripped off each other’s clothes, then taken a shower which had rapidly escalated into a make-out session. He’d never showered so much in his life—because having her in the shower was so amazingly fantastic.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you…?”

  Adam rearranged his stirring hard on with one hand and took the shirt from her with the other. “Yes. Let’s go before we get distracted again.”

  *****

  When they arrived at the party, Sean rushed over and took her through to the back garden where a group of people were chatting in the sunshine clutching bottles of beer.

  “You want a drink?” Adam asked, and when she nodded, he wandered off to a table at the side of the house to fetch them.

  “This is my wife, Amanda.” Sean glanced over to a smoking BBQ, and grimaced. “Excuse me, I better go check on the burgers.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you, Stacy.” Amanda’s smile was warm and welcoming. “It’s great you could come.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it.” Adam was chatting to Sean with two beers clutched in his hand. His brow creased, and he glanced over at her with something akin to worry in his eyes. What’s that about?

  “We thought maybe… Well, you know, because of the news…” Amanda watched her carefully for a reaction, and when Stacy didn’t answer, she frowned. “You did hear the news?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Amanda grimaced. “You better come inside.” She took Stacy’s arm and let her through the kitchen into the quiet living room and closed the door. “This morning’s paper.” She picked the newspaper off the coffee table. “There’s an article in it about your manager. Apparently he’s in hospital in Bali.”

  Stacy took the paper and sank onto the nearest armchair.

  “The television news has been running the story nonstop as well. He was conned into a card game by hucksters who tried to rob him, and when he refused to pay they beat him badly.” Amanda sat beside her. “I’m so sorry, I felt sure you’d know.”

  “My manager’s on the run.” There was a photograph of someone in a hospital bed. Someone whose face was covered in bandages, and accessorized by tubes. “Are they sure?” Her chest hurt. Lester had stolen from her, but once he’d been the closest thing to a father she’d had, and seeing him like this—

  The door opened, and Adam and Sean entered.

  “I just found out.” Adam was at her side in moments. He read the story over her shoulder.

  It was difficult to know what to do next. Anytime there’d been a crisis, Lester had dealt with it. Now Lester was the crisis. Who would know what was going on?

  After a couple of minutes, it came to her. “I need to call my FBI contact.”

  Sean and Amanda left the room to give them privacy. Stacy found her cell phone and searched for the number with shaking hands.

  “I’ll get you a proper drink.” Adam placed the beers on the coffee table, and left the room.

  It was Saturday. No doubt Agent Black was spending time with his family. But she couldn’t wait. She had to know. After a few rings he answered.

  “Agent Black?”

  “Miss Gold. I was going to call you.” There was a hint of apology in his voice. “I didn’t want to disturb you at a weekend.”

  There was no time for pleasantries. Her fingers clutched the phone tighter. “I just found out. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Silently, Adam came back into the room clutching a glass of amber liquid which he placed before her.

  “As you’ve probably seen, he’s in Bali.” The agent coughed. “Which has got to be the stupidest place for a fugitive with a gambling problem to go. We don’t have an extradition policy with Indonesia, but gambling is illegal there. It appears he was lured into a card game aimed at tourists, and when he didn’t have the money to settle the debt, they attacked and almost killed him. It’s a common scam—gamblers can’t go to the police because they’ve been involved in illegal activity. Usually they just beat up tourists, and intimidate them into withdrawing money from an ATM, but in this case he collapsed so they dumped him from a car in a rough neighborhood.”

  The thought of anyone being treated so badly, even Lester, was abhorrent. “He looks badly hurt.”

  “He is. They had no idea of his health complications. The doctors say he has a bad heart, and terminal cancer.”

  “I had no idea either. So, what happens now?”

  “Once they learned he was wanted in the United States, the authorities were keen to hand him over, but he’s in no condition to travel right now. Once he is, we’ll be bringing him back to face charges. Are you in Nashville at the moment?”

  “I’m working in Ireland. I’m supposed to be here for another few weeks.”

  “You may have to come back sooner. Once we have him in custody. I can reach you on this number?”

  She nodded, then realized that he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

  “Fine. I’ll keep you posted. We’ve tried to keep the fact that he’s a fugitive out of the news, but I doubt it will remain secret for long, so I reckon the press will be trying to track you down for a statement. Because of the time difference, it’s probably smart for us to communicate by email too. Text me your email address and I’ll send you mine.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  She dropped the phone onto the sofa. Reached for the glass and swallowed a mouthful of brandy, feeling it burn all the way to her stomach. “They’ll extradite him when he’s well enough,” she told Adam, who slung an arm around her and tugged her close. “I should feel happy he’s been caught, but I just feel…” She shook her head, unable to put her turbulent feelings into words. Lester had stolen from her, and even worse, he’d stolen the year she should have had with Adam. She couldn’t feel anything for him. Couldn’t have any sympathy.

  “We’ll go home.” Adam’s lips moved against the top of her head.

  “No.” She eased away from him and swallowed another mouthful of brandy. “I don’t want to leave. We came to enjoy ourselves and I’ll be damned if I’ll let Lester screw up any more of my days.” She squared her shoulders. Stood. “Come on.” She reached for his hand. “Introduce me to everyone.”

  *****

  She was hurting. But the casual observer would never know it from the way Stacy mingled with the other guests at the party. Most of them had the sense to follow her lead and not talk about her manager, but when someone broke the unspoken code and did, she made some quick comment and changed the subject.

  Adam’d never thought he’d have sympathy for the man who’d helped to destroy his marriage, but Stacy’s determination to brush off the other man’s situation was disturbing. It was as though she was blanking her mind of inconvenient memories—writing Lester out of her history, even though once he’d been everything to her.

  Pretending it meant nothing. In exactly the same way she’d ended their marriage, with an iron-willed purpose that made her appear hard and unapproachable.

  He hovered. He couldn’t help it. When the sun sank in the sky, someone produced a guitar and started to strum it, and she was right there in the middle of things, humming along, smiling, laughing, drinking. As though her heart wasn’t aching, her world hadn’t been turned upside down.

  “Will you sing something, Stacy?” Amanda asked.

  “She’s your biggest fan. You know she has all of your albums,” Sean added.

  Amanda blushed and swatted her husband. “You promised you wouldn’t tell her.” She gave Stacy a bashful smile. “It’s true. I didn’t want to come over all fangirl, but I love your music.”

  Stacy smiled back. “What would you like me to sing?”

  “Girl Boy, Your Toy.”

  It was one of Stacy’s big
gest hits—a light and breezy upbeat country number, the lynchpin of her concerts and always demanded from the audience when she was on tour. Stacy borrowed the guitar, perched on the edge of the picnic table, and started to play.

  By the time she got to the chorus, most people were singing along. She put her whole self into the music, effortlessly holding the audience in the palm of her hand. The song was so familiar Adam found himself anticipating the rise and fall of the melody, waiting for the riffs. It was a great song, but lacked the depth, the soul deep personal connection that was so obvious in the new songs she’d been writing. He wished she’d play one of those instead.

  When the song ended, she handed back the guitar as the party guests clapped and crowded around her, complimenting her performance.

  Everything was a performance. The way she smiled. The way she laughed, as though nothing in the world touched her. A good looking young guy handed her another beer, and she clinked it against the bottle he held in his hand and brought it to her lips.

  Adam hadn’t moved an inch since the last time she’d seen him, but she didn’t glance his direction. It was as though he didn’t exist.

  The crowd was thinning out—some people were saying their goodbyes to their hosts. Adam walked over to Stacy’s side. She was deep in conversation, but her gaze flickered to him. “Are you ready to go?”

  She smiled her magazine interview smile. “The guys were telling me about a great session in a pub nearby. We thought we’d go and check it out.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. Me, Liam, and Donal.” She waved at her companions.”Why don’t you join us?”

  Anger flashed through him like poison injected into a vein. “Excuse me for a moment, guys.” He took her arm and walked her a little distance away so they would not be overheard. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She jerked out of his grasp. “What do you mean? I’m just having fun with my new friends.” Her jaw tightened. “What’s your problem, anyway. Are you jealous?”

  “Do you want me to be?”

 

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