Wetwork

by Marie Harte

  He shook his head, feeling for her. She shifted and her hair moved, exposing marks on her throat. He reached out and gently touched the bruises. “What happened?”

  She flushed and backed away. “Nothing important.”

  “Emma, talk,” he growled.

  She blinked.

  “Emma…”

  “Scott threatened me,” she blurted. “He held my neck and squeezed. But it wasn’t like when you did it.” She bit her lower lip. “I didn’t like it. It hurt.”

  “Shit.” I’ll kill him.

  “Let it go, Trevor. I don’t want you doing anything and getting in trouble for it because of me.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Get caught.

  “He and Ruth are gone. My problems are over.”

  “Honey, you know they’ll be back. You need to be prepared for that.” He saw her droop and hated to add to her troubles, but he’d do anything to keep her safe. “And there’s more. Remember I told you I work for a security company? Well, one of our cases might end up bleeding over onto you.”

  “Me?”

  “Tony and Lorraine Lancaster are getting a divorce, and Lorraine hired us to help figure out what assets he’s hiding. Turns out Tony’s a criminal. He buried a ton of money I recently found out about, and now he’s going after some of the guys on the team.”

  “Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” She reached for his hand on the table.

  He gripped hers, enfolding her smaller hand in his much larger one. “I’m fine, but you might not be. We had dinner together, remember. I didn’t notice anyone watching us, but we can’t be too careful.” He paused. “We’re going to have to take some time apart from each other. It’s not what I want,” he said hurriedly. “But I won’t put you in danger.”

  “I understand.” She seemed stoic, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

  “Emma…”

  “I’ll be right back.” She left him for the back room, and he worried she might start crying. She’d looked so dejected, and after all that mess with her sister too.

  He found her in the back staring down at the counter.

  “Emma?”

  She didn’t answer him.

  He looked to see what had her attention and noticed a silver wrapped box sitting on her counter.

  “What’s this?”

  “It wasn’t here before,” she whispered, sounding scared.

  “Damn. Emma?” Had Lancaster’s men realized how much she meant to him before he did?

  “Oh geez. This makes my day from hell complete.”

  Then she crumpled, right in front of him, and he had his hands full of a weeping woman crying so pitifully she hurt his heart.

  Emma felt like a fool for sobbing in front of Trevor, a man she wanted to make a good impression in front of. But another creepy gift, on top of everything that had happened that day, broke her.

  “Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

  Trevor felt so solid, so real hugging her to him. Like a steady rock who would never let her fall. He’d been cancelling their date because he had his own problems. He sure the heck didn’t need more of hers.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to cry all over you.” She sniffed. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Emma, what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry. I think you should leave. This isn’t your problem.”

  His hold on her tightened. He lifted her up onto the counter, sat her beside the present, and caged her between his strong arms. “We don’t know each other very well yet. I was saving this talk for after a few more dates, but we’ll have it now. Honey, I respect your right to be independent, how you work so hard and try to help everyone else. But right now, when it comes to your welfare, I’m in charge. What the hell is with the present?”

  She realized he wasn’t going to budge. Ignoring the thrill of his command, she relented. “I have a secret admirer, apparently. At first I thought it was a harmless crush. Someone left me a pewter bird, you know, for Sweets ‘n Tweets? Then it was a mask, then panties.”

  “Panties?”

  “Yeah. And the last gift came Friday. A pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.” She blushed, but Trevor didn’t look intrigued. He looked angry. “I have no idea who or what this is about. I thought maybe Scott was messing with me, but I asked him and I don’t think so. I wondered about a few other men I’ve seen, but none of them seem to fit. It’s probably just some harmless prank.”

  He didn’t seem to think so, and truth to tell, neither did she. A pewter bird was one thing. Panties and handcuffs? That was way too personal for anonymity. Trevor didn’t ask as he slowly unwrapped the next gift, careful to use napkins to remove the wrapping. He told her he planned on taking the box to their independent lab to run it for prints.

  After unwrapping it, he found a DVD inside. “I want to see this, but not here. You’re coming with me.”

  Forty-five minutes later, she sat with him in his office in a posh building high up on a floor overlooking the sound. Some view, she thought as she waited for the DVD to finish being virus-checked.

  “All clean.” Trevor sounded and acted differently. More like a soldier issuing orders as he took on the mantle of responsibility for her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “One more word out of you and I swear to God I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you right here in my office. I don’t give a rat’s ass who sees.” He blew out a breath. “Emma, this is serious. You have someone stalking you. Since this started before I ever met you, it can’t be Lancaster. Hell, I almost wish it was.”

  While the spanking sounded like fun, she’d never been one for exhibitionism. She nodded and remained quiet.

  “Good.” He plugged the DVD into a different computer at his workstation.

  They watched what was clearly a low-budget adult movie. The woman looked uncomfortably similar to Emma, while the man wore a mask over his face. He made the woman do all manner of degrading things, then he took her roughly, his control lost. The scene was supposed to be one of a man forcing a woman, though the busty blond on film moaned at all the right instances. At any other time the thought of being pretend-forced would arouse Emma. Being controlled by a handsome man like Trevor—her fantasy made flesh. Being the object in some weirdo’s sexually deviant play? Not so great.

  More like terrifying.

  Trevor didn’t speak. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. Instead she studied the man looking for any clues, but she’d never seen Scott, John, or any of her customers naked. She had no idea what to look for. They watched as the man finally finished and paid the woman at the end. She walked from the room with cane marks and bruises on her back and ass.

  Trevor didn’t speak as he ejected the disc and tucked it back into its case. Then he said, “Okay. That’s it. You’re moving in with me until we find this nut-job.”

  She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to be with Trevor, but not because he had to protect her. And besides, he had his own problems to deal with. “But your case, the Lancasters. Don’t you—”

  “This is non-negotiable. I won’t let you say no. You can have my spare bedroom. But you aren’t going to be alone until this is over and we catch this guy. Or if you’d rather, I can move in with you. Now that your sister’s gone, you have the place to yourself, right?”

  She nodded. She wanted to lean on him, so she knew she shouldn’t. Every man she’d ever tried to rely on had failed her. Though Trevor seemed different, in her experience, men couldn’t be trusted. “I just… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Honey, you’ve been inconveniencing me from day one.”

  She had to smile at that. “Funny, since we’re only hitting day four.”

  He blinked. “Damn. You’re right. Was it only Friday we met? Seems like I’ve known you for much longer than that.”

  And it did, which worried her. She felt way too comfortable with him. Even her shyness seemed to have evaporated, though she still found it hard to beli
eve a man like Trevor would be interested in her. “Yeah, well, we’re still strangers, pretty much. And I hate for you to take on my problems when you have your own.”

  “So you already said. Twice. Don’t worry, Emma. We’ll get to know each other real quick living together.” He winked. “But I meant what I said before. I’ll never hurt you. However we deal with each other in private is up to you.”

  “What?”

  “I want you. I’m not going to lie. But I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want. Hell, I won’t even kiss you unless you ask me to.”

  “Even if I want you to take charge?” she whispered and looked away, unable to meet his direct gaze.

  He tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “Not until we spell out what that means. When we go over my rules, you might decide it’s too much for you.” His rules? “And that’s okay. Your safety is important to me, in bed and out. As much as it might kill me, if you don’t want to sleep with me, I’m still here for you. I will never pressure you for more than you’re willing to give.”

  Her eyes burned. “You’re so sweet to me.”

  “I keep telling you that. I’m a nice guy.”

  A large man happened to be walking by the office and overheard him. “Wait. Matt, come here. Trev is straight up lying to some pretty little thing.” The guy walked in wearing a frown. He looked like a giant, even next to Trevor. Talk about big and bald and handsome when he smiled.

  Trevor frowned. “Shouldn’t you be watching Lorraine Lancaster?”

  “She’s in the office with Evan.” The big guy smiled at her. “Hey there, honey. What’s your name?”

  “Back off, Ritter. She’s mine.” Trevor growled, like a dog over a bone.

  The possessive tone thrilled her, though she tried not to let it. She shouldn’t be happy now, not under her current circumstances.

  Ritter grinned. “That right, honey?”

  “Um, well, I don’t—”

  Trevor stood, crossed to Ritter and shoved the giant back out the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Get lost,” Trevor snarled. He slammed the door, then turned and walked calmly back to Emma. “As I was saying, your place or mine?”

  Two hours later, Emma didn’t know if she’d made the right decision or not. She felt more comfortable in what she knew, her own house, so she’d asked Trevor to stay over. Since she only had the one bedroom downstairs, and he refused to sleep on another floor than her, he’d taken the couch as his new temporary bed.

  Personally she didn’t see how he could fit there, but he insisted he’d be fine.

  She sat on her bed wearing her ratty robe over a pair of silky pajamas. A tailored top and bottom that weren’t sexy as much as they were comfortable. But without a bra, she felt naked, so she’d donned the robe.

  I’m so stupid for hiding away. He’s out there. I’m in here. We’re together. He said it’s up to me. Why not ask him for sex?

  Trevor insisted he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. As much as she loved that he wanted to put her needs first, with new locks and Trevor in residence, she no longer feared for her safety. For the first time in her life, she wanted to take what she wanted and damn the consequences. Trevor would move back out as soon as the danger passed. Why waste such a golden opportunity to have him all to herself?

  She bit her lip, realized what she was doing, and stopped.

  Live life to the fullest or end up a bitter old maid, on the path Ruth was headed? Mistakes would be made, of that she had no doubt. The sex might not be that great. Trevor could just be an amazing kisser, though she didn’t think so. She couldn’t stop thinking about those rules of his he’d mentioned. Just how bossy in bed was he? He seemed so nice and hands-off with her, yet she’d seen his interest, the intense focus he’d give her when he didn’t think she was watching.

  And it had been nearly a year since she’d last had sex. A woman had needs. Heck, vanilla sex was better than nothing at all. Despite his rules, she couldn’t imagine him being as forceful as she’d need him to be, not since he’d gone on and on about her taking charge. Still, she wanted him. He wanted her. A win-win in everyone’s book.

  Now time to stop dreaming and start doing…

  Tomorrow.

  She curled her finger in her hair, twining the strand around and around. She’d ask him for sex tomorrow, when she could drum up the nerve.

  Chapter Seven

  After spending the past three nights with Emma, Trevor was ready to pull his hair out. Thursday afternoon he sat in his office trying to figure out how Lancaster had known to go after him. Evan had vetted the rest of the employees. The office was clean of listening and recording devices. So how the hell had Tony Lancaster known Trevor was the intel man when Evan had at least two other guys who knew their way around a computer?

  He frowned. The Lancaster case had stalled, though Trevor continued to feed Josh and the others any information he could glean on Lancaster’s financials, to include the vast amount of properties the guy owned. Though doing his job, more of his aggravation stemmed from his inability to find out who’d been stalking Emma.

  She’d been right that no one and everyone seemed a likely culprit. The prints on the present had turned up a big fat zero, and same with the disc, which meant her stalker had the intelligence to avoid detection. The gifts themselves had also been impossible to track down, too generic to identify. The birds could be found in dozens of craft shops in town—made in China. The mask, panties and cuffs as well. The amateur DVD turned up nothing either, with no way to identify the actors. The guy had clearly made the video in a nondescript hotel room with bland walls and furniture.

  Frustration ate at Trevor. And not just from a lack of leads.

  Every moment spent close to Emma showed him how they suited. She liked to challenge herself with board games of all kinds, had a quick wit and limitless patience. She didn’t mind losing, though she won more than she lost. He too would rather use his mind than veg out watching television. Her mental library was vast, proving she really did read a lot. Yet she had a working knowledge of the same few TV shows he indulged in. History pieces, of all things.

  So strange to find the shy Emma Clark so perfect for him. Dana had been outgoing, brash, sexy and sure of herself. Emma was shy, funny, and insecure. He knew she didn’t understand her appeal, which made her that much more attractive. Unlike Dana though, Emma was overly caring. She went out of her way to make him feel comfortable, and he had to admit that pleased him to no end.

  They connected in so many ways, but they hadn’t connected physically yet. Ever since that last kiss, he’d kept his distance. He’d meant it when he said he wouldn’t rush her. She looked at him with desire, but she didn’t seem ready to embrace her feelings. And with his own self-doubts, he didn’t want to tangle with her yet either.

  It made no sense that he should feel such affection and lust so soon for her. Especially not now, when he should have been missing Dana all the more fiercely. Just last week marked the anniversary of her death. Dana, a woman who’d matched him in all ways. A fighter, a killer in high heels who knew which pressure points to use to disable a man. Lethal with a knife or a gun, beautiful, sexy…and dead.

  He had to work to see her in his mind’s eye, and that bolstered the grief he wanted—needed—to feel. But then an image of Emma’s soft smile, her shy eyes, her vulnerability tugged at him and made him want to smile.

  He swore and shifted in his seat, aroused and no longer surprised by it. The need to own Emma, to control her, ate at him. He wanted so much more than tame sex with her. But would she be able to accept that? Could she obey him, open to him the way he needed her to?

  With a frustrated sigh, he turned back to his computer and forced himself to finish working on some financial statements for the firm’s other cases. By five thirty, he’d had enough distance from the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. He packed up and rejoined Emma at her bakery. With her small staff on alert, everyone continued
to look for anyone or anything suspicious.

  No one had found anything yet. Which meant he’d need to spend more time protecting her. Sleeping in her house, seeing her, hearing her, breathing her in. He muffled a groan and studied her.

  She wore her hair up in a ponytail, a Sweets ‘n Tweets tee-shirt and jeans making her look all of twenty years old. Too young for me, he tried telling himself. But he knew he only had ten years on her, thirty-four to her twenty-four. Not too old at all for what he had in mind.

  Two men sat talking quietly while an older woman gathered her belongings and left the bakery.

  He gave the men a cursory glance, recognizing John, the computer guy, and Garrett, a regular, close to John’s age, who had a sweet tooth and a fondness for Emma. He seemed innocent enough, though John remained a potential suspect in Trevor’s mind. He hadn’t taken anyone off his list, though, and made a note to go over Garrett’s background again. This time in more detail.

  “Closing time,” Garrett said with a wink as he noted Trevor.

  The regulars had noticed his presence and teased Emma about it. She’d confessed he was her new boyfriend, following his advice on how to explain his presence. Plus he wanted to see how her secret admirer took the news she was no longer available.

  Because she wasn’t. Period.

  John nodded to his buddy. “Come on, Garrett. We can continue our conversation at my place.”

  Trevor made a mental note of the pair’s closeness, wondering how many other customers spent a lot of time in the bakery. John, Garrett, Mitchell, Thomas, Amelia, Sue. The list went on. Emma had loyal customers, sugar addicts needing a fix.

  But for food or for Emma? Hell, Trevor even considered himself one of her many admirers. He sighed as John and Garrett left.

  Cat poked her head out from the back. “I’m taking off since Trevor’s here.” She waved at him. “Hi.”

  “Hey, Cat. Let me walk you out.”

  He went out the back with her and waited until she got into her car and left. Then he returned to Emma, who waited for him while she finished wiping up her baking racks and cookie trays .