Silken heat infused her as their mouths met. Instead of easing into the slowly awakening path of desire that she was accustomed to, a whipcord of intensity shook her, the reverberation as unsettling and electric as it was unfamiliar.
His hands moved slowly over her arms, traveling to her waist, resting on the curve of her hip, each move creating stunning awareness. It was as though this was the first time he'd touched her, but even more. She didn't remember the electricity, the shocking heat that was consuming her. It had been some time, true, but where had this come from?
If she didn't know it was impossible, she would have sworn this was the touch of a stranger, an incredibly exciting stranger. Shaken, she drew back slightly, hearing the fevered rush of her own breathing – and his.
Her mouth was dry, her chest heaving in anticipation, the pulse at her throat leaping out of control. She extended an eager, yet shaky hand, expecting to feel the crush of his chest against hers, the length of his body pressed to hers.
The sudden springing of the mattress as Elliott rose was an equal shock. Which made his words that much more difficult to interpret.
"You're truly beautiful, Katherine, and that's something that will never change."
Her eyes widened as she watched him leave the room, then heard the tread of his footsteps as he retreated down the stairs. Alone in the dark with her own thoughts, she wondered if either of them would sleep that night – or together again. And why her husband had chosen to walk away.
* * *
Chapter 6
«^»
The nights following Katherine's outburst were now fraught with tension. Unable to cross that line, yet unwilling to hurt her further, Paul continued to use work as an excuse to avoid sharing her bed. But sleep was becoming more difficult for him, as well. He took advantage of the post-midnight hours to search the study thoroughly.
One night, when he tried to open the bottom drawer of the desk, Paul felt it stick. Stubbornly he pulled harder and it released with a thump. Puzzled, he glanced down. What had caused the thumping sound? It was as if something had dropped to the floor.
Pulling the drawer free from its track, he reached inside the desk frame, patting the floor, searching. He was ready to withdraw his hand when his fingertips grazed the edges of a thick wad of papers. His arm was already fully extended, so he couldn't quite get a grasp. He rose, then searched for and found a letter opener. Using it like a drag-line, he scooted the papers close enough so he could get his hand around them.
Realizing he might well be reeling in Matthew's old black book or something equally useless, Paul braced himself to be disappointed. He brought the papers up to the desk surface, beneath the light of a vintage art deco lamp.
Disappointment wasn't what he felt. As he skimmed the small type, he recognized that the documents were insurance papers. Life insurance. In Matthew's name.
His eyes widened as he read the amount. Matthew had been insured for a substantial amount. With grim purpose he flipped through the papers looking for the beneficiary.
Katherine Crowden Elliott.
With Matthew dead she stood to gain nearly half a million dollars, in addition to the entire business. More than enough motive for murder.
Regardless of tears – or beauty – Paul knew he was on track. And from what he could see, that track led to only one person. Involuntarily his eyes lifted toward the ceiling. And it wouldn't do to ever forget that.
* * *
Katherine studied the man on Jessica's arm. Clearly her friend was taken with him, but Katherine wasn't sure what she thought of Rod Dennison. Tall and blond, he was handsome enough, in a slick sort of way.
Katherine widened her smile to include him as he emptied his drink. She tried to ignore his enthusiasm for the free drinks and, instead, thought about the evening's focus. "The benefit seems to be going well. The children's hospital should meet their goal if the momentum continues."
"Great gig," Rod answered, plucking another glass of wine from a passing waiter. "Jessica told me you're the caterer."
Katherine kept her smile in place. "Yes, it's a working party."
"Nothing wrong with that," Rod answered, tipping his glass to her. "Why not get paid to party?"
Why not indeed?
Jessica smiled at him fondly. "You always see the positive side of things."
"I've worked my share of parties," Rod told them. "Bartending."
"Oh, I didn't realize that," Katherine replied.
"Katherine's always looking for an extra bartender," Jessica said, obviously enchanted with him.
Katherine wasn't sure she was glad Jessica had shared that bit of information. "Crab puff?"
"My favorite," Jessica responded with a smile. "And yours are the best."
"Surprised you don't have something more original for appetizers," Rod commented after swallowing one. "Crab puffs are kinda 'been there, done that,' you know?"
Yet he seemed to be knocking them back fast enough, Katherine noted as he reached for a few more. She gritted her teeth against the slight. "Perhaps you'll find the main course more inventive."
"No offense," Rod told her. "Just that Jessica's been bragging about you and Elliott. Says you're the best. I thought your stuff would be on the cutting edge."
The man had a way of making even an apology sound like an insult, Katherine thought. Glancing at Jessica, she spotted her anxiety, recognized her desire to please. Katherine tactfully let the comment pass.
"As Katherine said, the main course is the place for creativity," Jessica inserted hastily. Rod took her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. Jessica sent Katherine an apologetic look as they walked away.
Knowing how lonely Jessica had been since her husband's premature death, Katherine tried not to judge. Rod was probably a perfectly acceptable man who occasionally put his foot in his mouth at parties. It happened.
"Why the scowl?" Elliott asked from her side, surprising her. Completely focused on Jessica and Rod, she hadn't heard him approach.
"Oh, was I scowling?" Katherine forced her features into neutral.
"Yep. Looks as if you want to skewer someone out there."
"Maybe I do," she replied.
He lifted his brows. "That was candid."
"Oh, I suppose I don't mean it. It's that guy Jessica's with."
"Rod?" he asked, his gaze following hers and singling them out of the crowd.
"Yes. I'm not sure what to think of him."
"Why?"
Katherine paused. "He just seems too polished – like he's not real. And Jessica needs someone who's real, someone who can appreciate how wonderful she is."
Paul reached for a stack of linen napkins. "Isn't that up to Jessica?"
"Of course. But I've seen what she's gone through the past few years. Losing her husband so young in that accident…"
"Her husband died?" Elliott asked, sounding shocked.
Another piece of Elliott's history apparently lost, Katherine realized.
"Yes. It was tragic and his death nearly killed her. It's taken forever for her to date again. I hope Rod doesn't hurt her."
"And you think he will?" Elliott asked, a strange shadow in his eyes.
"I don't know. He just seems too … well oiled." She sneaked another look at the couple.
"Well oiled?" Paul repeated, amusement coloring his voice. "Is that a female term for something we men don't want to know?"
"Ha! As if you don't know what I mean. I'm afraid he's a mover, a smooth operator, a … a…"
"Snake-oil salesman?" Paul provided.
"You're just being a man!" she accused.
"Guilty. But I have a hard time outrunning that label."
Katherine smiled finally, realizing he was teasing her. "It's been a long time since you've done that."
His smile remained easy. "What?"
"Teased me," she replied, grinning. "I was beginning to think it was lost to the past."
His smile wavered briefly, then slipped back
into place. "You don't want me to take myself so seriously?"
She studied him. "That's hard to answer. I've missed your lighter side, but I am impressed with the changes you've made in the business."
"Impressed?" he echoed.
Katherine nodded. "I hated being in debt, always worrying about the finances. But it doesn't look like I'll have to worry anymore, so yes, I guess I'm impressed."
"But I'm no snake-oil salesman?"
Katherine laughed in spite of her concern for Jessica. "I guess I am getting kind of carried away. Rod's probably okay, just a little on the superficial side. But Jessica's so … special. She deserves the best."
"And you don't think Rod's part of that elite group – the oh, two or three percent of the male population who aren't movers or smooth operators?"
Without blinking, she elbowed him smartly. "Very funny, chum. I wasn't planning to turn this into a male-female battle."
"Didn't sound like that from my side of the battlefield."
She winced slightly. "Am I that obvious?"
His smile was smooth, rather than teasing. "Only to someone who knows you well."
Katherine's eyes softened, and a warm glow suffused her face. "And that would be you."
The laughter in his eyes faded, replaced by something she couldn't quite fathom. Something uncharacteristically grim. What had befallen her Peter Pan in that crash?
"Elliott," she said gently, taking his arm, "it doesn't matter, you know, how bad the accident makes you feel, I mean. We can talk about it. I know things are different. You're different."
His head jerked up. "What do you mean?"
"It's not easy to explain," she murmured, caught by the intensity in his eyes. Where had this come from? This scintillating edge that made her pulse quicken. A sigh that originated somewhere way down deep emerged.
"You sound tired," he said, backing away.
"No, I—" she began to protest.
"I'll check on the line, see how the carving station's holding up … oh, and the dessert table." The odd look on his face twisted into a grin. "There probably aren't any of your crepes left. They're going like hotcakes," he quipped.
His attempt at humor couldn't dampen her heightened awareness. Although it was crazy, Katherine felt as though she was caught in that first flush of passion, as though anticipating their first touch. How could that be? His was a touch she knew well.
Why then, did her skin tingle when he was near? As Elliott walked away, she stared at the familiar lines of his body, wondering why nothing about him seemed familiar any longer.
* * *
Paul slid onto the booth's vinyl-covered bench. The café's discreet neon sign lit up the corner of the window while a chalkboard advertised the daily specials. But Paul wasn't looking for something to eat. He was here to meet John Lewis.
Paul tried to prepare himself for the worst. Matthew may have been found. Although hope was all but extinct, he wanted to believe his mercurial twin could beat the worst odds. Paul rested his forehead on one upraised hand. What if this was the one time Matthew had failed?
"Elliott?" John Lewis said quietly, one solid hand resting briefly on Paul's shoulder. Then he sat down opposite him. "You okay?"
"Yep. So, you have some news?"
John wore a noncommittal expression. "I'm afraid it's not about what you want to hear."
"Then nothing about Matthew?"
John shook his head.
Paul didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
"Sorry," John said sympathetically, allowing the rare emotion to infuse his voice for a moment before assuming its usual blandness. "We don't know any more about Matthew."
It may have been foolish, but Paul allowed himself to feel a rush of relief at the temporary reprieve. "Then what?"
John paused. "We have some more information on Katherine."
Paul swallowed, bracing himself, wondering how bad it would be. "And?"
"It's not good. She and a partner owned a restaurant in Charlotte. It was on the verge of bankruptcy when a fire leveled the place."
Paul met his friend's eyes. "Let me guess. The insurance paid off."
John nodded. "Big time. Enough to clear their debts and provide some handsome seed money."
"Do you have a line on the partner?"
"Not yet." John hesitated. "But the restaurant was Katherine's inspiration."
As the catering business had been. Paul remembered the pride in Matthew's voice when, during their brief phone conversation, he'd described Katherine's expertise. He'd been convinced she had the business savvy to take them both far.
Well, Matthew had been half-right. At this point it looked as though she'd engineered him far, far out of the picture. Paul cleared his throat. "Was there an investigation?"
"Not then, but one's been instigated, Of course, the trail is pretty cold. But we should know in a few weeks if there was anything suspicious about the fire."
Paul bent his head for a moment, needing to know, yet dreading to ask. "Is the partner alive?"
"As far as we know." John hesitated again. "But he's dropped out of sight. Way out of sight."
"So he could be dead," Paul surmised, hating to take the leap, but knowing he had to be realistic.
"Hey, hold on there, buddy. That's a hell of an assumption. I said he's out of sight. We don't know he's dead."
Paul's voice was grim. "And we don't know he isn't. People have a funny way of disappearing around Katherine."
"She breaking her facade?" John asked, after accepting the coffee the waitress brought, then making sure she was out of earshot.
"Not exactly. She's still portraying the perfect wife, mother, concerned friend and likable employer."
"Doesn't exactly sound like Lizzie Borden," John observed.
"No. But all of Lizzie's neighbors thought she was a sweet young thing. Goes to show that appearances aren't everything."
"How about from your end?" John asked. "You uncover anything?"
Paul hesitated. "Can you do me a favor, John?"
His friend nodded. "Sure. What is it?"
Again Paul hesitated, this time visibly. "Can you find out who the father of Katherine's child is and where he is? Oh, and if there are any court orders regarding support, custody, that sort of thing?"
"You think she nabbed him illegally?" John asked.
"Not exactly. Could you just go along with me on this one? I don't have anything really solid. I just need some background info."
"You got it." John paused. "I'm guessing this has to do with the kid's future if you take his mother out of the picture."
"Yeah, pretty much. Oh, and can you see if her parents are still alive, any siblings? Goes to the first issue, but it would also help my cover. I'm running blind here. I used to think Matthew and I could trade places in the blink of an eye and not miss anything. Not so."
"Don't sound so down about it. That's part of aging, especially in our line of work. None of us are as close to family as we'd like to be. Nothing to beat yourself up about."
"Matthew and I are twins. That's not the average sibling bond. It's a deeper bond than most married couples share."
"Then it will help you solve this, Elliott. It'll come back to you – how Matthew thinks, acts. That's something no background check can do for you. And it's what's going to help your brother."
Paul smiled wearily. "I know you're right. But as time passes, I can't believe we're going to have good news about Matthew."
"Not unless he really does have amnesia," John suggested. "It's possible."
"And it's possible to win the Irish Sweepstakes," Paul responded evenly. "I'm not counting on that, either."
"That's just being smart." John met his gaze. "The other is a matter of hope and faith, my friend. And both are pretty valuable right now."
Paul picked up his own coffee mug, ignoring the breakfast he'd ordered. "I suppose you're right."
"Not going to eat?" John asked, gesturing toward Paul's untouched
plate. "Looks like you have dropped some weight."
Paul glanced down at his torso, drawing his brows together. "Maybe. Haven't thought about it."
"Since you're living with a chef, she's liable to notice it," John said. "You might want to start eating again."
Paul gazed in distaste at the food. "I can't seem to stomach much these days."
"This something to do with your brother being a chef?"
Paul smiled wryly. "Is this what you learned in psych 101?" Then he waved one hand in easy dismissal. "I know I'm depressed. I also know I'm focused. And I know that's a lethal combination, but I don't intend to starve myself in grief. I have to eat to keep up appearances when I'm with Katherine. That's more than enough."
John shrugged, meeting his friend's eyes. "Okay, no feeding tube for now."
Paul nodded, wondering what John was leaving unsaid. "And?"
"I'll repeat my earlier advice. Until we learn what happened to Katherine's partner, don't let your guard down." John met Paul's eyes with grim purpose. "Not for a second."
* * *
Chapter 7
«^»
Katherine slowly replaced the telephone receiver. Another hang-up call. She could never remember a time when there had been so many. And they seemed to happen only when she answered the phone. She'd asked Elliott, and although a shadow had passed over his face, he said he hadn't gotten any odd calls or hang ups. She hadn't felt comfortable pushing any further.
A peculiar itch was working its way through her system. An itch born of suspicion.
"Katherine?" Jessica asked from across the room. "Everything okay?"
She hesitated. "I'm not sure."
Jessica rose from the wicker chair. "What is it?"
"This is going to sound stupid…"
"So?" Jessica smiled encouragingly. "Haven't I confided a lot of stupid-sounding things to you?"
Katherine laughed weakly. "I guess so." She pushed back a wayward lock of hair. "It's just that as I think about saying this out loud … well, I sound like the wife from a drippy movie-of-the-week. The wife who mistrusts her husband's every move."
Jessica's expression turned to one of concern. "You want to be a little clearer?"
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