Body of Proof (Law vs. Love Book 1)
Page 6
“I’m serious.” She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “What’s going on?”
“This has nothing to do with the case.” He gestured toward the idling limo, a shiny black beauty that held two glasses of champagne inside. They’d enjoy their drinks, their dinner, and then they’d return to his penthouse where he could have his way with her over and over again. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”
She hugged her wool coat tighter around her body and shivered. “I can’t. I’m way behind on work.”
Jace felt a prickle of annoyance. “You can’t work all day and all night. You need to eat.”
Narrowing her eyes, Carrie took a step back. “You can’t start this right now with me, Jace.”
“You’re saying I can’t start treating you like a goddess.”
“Yes. No.” Carrie threw up her hands. “You can’t just order me around like I’m one of your employees.”
“Well, technically…” He trailed off when he saw her eyes narrow even further. “It was a joke. Listen, you need to eat dinner regardless. Instead of ordering in Chinese, come to dinner with me. Have a nice meal while you take a short break from your work.”
She hesitated and glanced behind her at the office. He knew she was close to giving in, he could tell by the way she bit her lip and avoided looking into his eyes. Seeing that, all he could think about was how her body would look out of her suit. He wanted to make her moan so loud, the entire city would hear her pleasure as she came.
“You’re looking at me like that again.” She shivered and tucked her chin into her coat collar.
“You’re getting cold.” He reached for her arm, but she shifted away. “Let’s go inside the limo where it’s warm.”
“What do you even want with me?” she asked, tipping back her head to look straight into his eyes. “You really think you’re going to make me believe you only want to take me out for dinner?”
He shifted closer, fire flickering inside his stomach. If they weren’t out in public, he’d pick her up off the ground and wrap her thighs around his waist. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a finger under her chin so that their mouths were only inches apart. Her breath was hot and quick on his lips, and her body melted against his chest. Carrie trembled, but Jace didn’t think it was because of the cold anymore.
A scuffling nearby dragged his attention away from Carrie’s sensuous lips, and bright lights flashed in their direction. Jace stiffened as he glanced around, mind flying to the police. But, it wasn’t the cops. It was a man with a camera, snapping photos of his and Carrie’s embrace.
Carrie turned to see what had caught Jace’s attention and gasped. One moment she was in his arms, and the next she’d jumped five feet back, a vacuum of cold air left in her place. The cameraman sprinted away and jumped into a car idling on the corner of the block. It had all happened too fast to do anything to stop him.
“Jace.” Carrie’s eyes were as wide as a balloon. “Please tell me that wasn’t one of your paparazzi followers.”
“He was behind you,” Jace said, struggling to remain calm. “It would have been impossible for him to get a shot of your face from that angle.”
She fisted her hands by her side and slowly shook her head. “This can’t be happening. If this ends up in the papers, and the partners see, my entire career will be over.”
“I doubt it would be quite that extreme.” Jace took a step toward her, but she stumbled back.
“I was practically kissing you, Jace.” Her voice cut off as tears popped into her eyes.
“Don’t cry, Carrie. We can fix this.” Jace’s heart hardened as he thought of the man who had descended upon them with the camera. It was time to put a stop to the presence of the paparazzi in his life, and especially this one. He’d bribe the man if necessary, anything to keep Carrie from feeling this way.
“Yeah, I can fix this. I can stop getting sucked into your orbit.” Carrie backed away. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to get involved with you. There’s too much at stake. And now I may have lost everything for a stupid fling.”
The snow began to fall again on Carrie’s bleak Manhattan night. Things had taken a turn for the worse, and all she wanted to do was rewind a few days and start over. Tomorrow morning, her name might be splashed across the headlines. Tomorrow night, she might be unemployed.
As she watched Jace drive away in the limo, she couldn’t help the part of her that wanted to wave for him to stop. Despite everything, she was drawn to him so much she could barely stand it when they were apart. But, even if they weren’t what they were, Jace had proven to her this week that he hadn’t changed much at all. He was still bossy and domineering, and stony and cold most of the time. The only time he heated up was in bed, and Carrie wanted more from a relationship than that.
Carrie was distracted from her dark thoughts when she saw Sarah push through the revolving doors.
Sarah paused, raising her eyebrows when she saw Carrie shuddering in the cold snow. “I thought you left half an hour ago. What are you still doing out here?”
“Jace was out here waiting for me.” Carrie frowned. “Some guy snapped our picture, and we had a fight.”
“Sounds like you need a drink.” Sarah looped her hand through Carrie’s arm and started pulling her along the slush-covered sidewalk before Carrie could protest. Why not? Things couldn’t get any worse.
Two drinks later, Carrie felt a lot more relaxed about the night’s events. Sure, it still sucked, but everything looked better through Pinot-tinted glasses. Sarah lifted the almost-empty bottle and divided the last few sips of wine between their glasses.
“I mean, why do I let him get to me so much?” Carrie asked, taking another sip of the luscious wine and raising her voice to speak over the steady hum of the crowded bar.
“Because you’re in love with him.”
“What?” Carrie snorted but felt her cheeks begin to warm. “I am not.”
“You’re blushing.” Sarah gave her a knowing smile and took another sip of her drink. “Why are you hesitating anyway?”
“Are you kidding me?” Carrie shook her head with a laugh. “He’s Jace Holt. He’s a playboy, and my mom had to go and marry his dad.”
Sarah waved her hand as if to dismiss Carrie’s words. “Yeah, yeah, but you two had a thing way before your mom ever met his dad.”
“So, you don’t think it’s weird?” Carrie asked, fingering the cardboard coaster on the beat-up table. While Jace liked to inhabit only Manhattan’s finest, Carrie’s old friend loved the grungy Irish bars in Midtown where the raucous Happy Hour crowds liked to congregate.
“You’re not actually related, you know.” Sarah shrugged. “It’s only weird if you make it weird.”
Carrie bit her lip and glanced out the frosted window. Could Sarah be right? Had she made a much bigger deal of this than it actually was? Maybe it wasn’t weird for them to be attracted to each other. It’s not like they could just turn that emotion off. But that still didn’t take away the other complications of their relationship.
“The partners wouldn’t understand,” Carrie said. “They won’t want their firm associated with some tabloid scandal. They may not have snapped a photo of my face this time, but…”
“So, don’t get caught.” Sarah took a sip of her drink, her eyes drifting toward a hot guy strolling by their table. “I can imagine way worse things than a secret affair with Jace Holt.”
Carrie’s entire body warmed just at the thought of it. There was something thrilling and exciting about the idea of trying not to get caught. She wanted more than just some secret affair, but she couldn’t argue that it didn’t sound appealing. Jace made her feel safe and completely on edge at the same time. There was nothing boring about being around him, and the past few days had breathed a new kind of energy into her life. A far cry from her lonely nights spent holed up inside of her apartment poring over case notes.
As her mind spun around thoughts of Jace, her gaze drifted across the crowded bar
. Young professionals were packed in tight, their voices raised and their jackets off. Letting their hair down after a long and stressful day at work. Carrie used to come out like this all the time, but she hadn’t in months, and the knots in her shoulders were evidence of this. Jace had been right. She needed to relax more. Stop focusing so much on nothing but work. What was success if she couldn’t share it with anyone?
Sighing, she twisted back toward Sarah, but her eyes caught on a girl standing by the door and sliding into a dark brown coat. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, heavy makeup, young. Recognition buzzed in Carrie’s brain, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.
As the girl yanked open the door and let in a frosty gust of wind, Carrie suddenly remembered where she’d seen her before. It was the girl from Jace’s phone. Madison. His disappearing alibi.
Carrie jumped up from the table and grabbed her coat. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I have to run. Drinks are on me next time.”
Before Sarah could protest, Carrie was out the door, her heels click clacking on the sidewalk as she followed the girl down the street. She turned her collar up against the cold and kept her eyes firmly on the dark brown jacket half a block ahead. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. Now that she’d volunteered herself as Jace’s alibi, it wasn’t as though they needed this girl to make a statement.
That didn’t stop her feet from moving. She darted through a family of tourists and turned down the next block when the girl did the same. Whoever was trying to frame Jace, Carrie was certain this girl knew about it. The lights and noises of the city became muted as they walked further away from the busy avenue.
Finally, Madison stopped at a run-down old brownstone, jogged up the steps, and disappeared inside. Squaring her shoulders, Carrie followed and paused at the base of the stairs, looking up to see the third floor light flick on through curtained windows. The girl must live there, Carrie realized. She’d had keys, and no one had been in the room upstairs before she went inside, or the lights would have already been on.
Carrie quietly made her way up the stairs and peered at the intercom system just beside the door. The name next to the bell for number three read “Holland”. Her stomach twisted at the name. She thought about ringing the bell and questioning the girl right then and there, but that would only tip off whoever was behind this.
And it was starting to look like someone related to the victim. Holland wasn’t exactly a common last name.
No, she needed to be smart. Develop a plan. As soon as she approached Madison—if that really was her name—she’d go straight to whoever had put her up to luring Jace away from his penthouse that night. And then she’d probably disappear. Carrie had one shot to talk to the girl, and it could make all the difference in the world to Jace’s case.
She needed to be cautious. She needed to talk to Jace.
When the phone rang, Jace was already into his second gin and tonic. He almost ignored it completely. It was way after work hours after all, and there were no pressing matters to deal with. He now owned the Times Square building, so it couldn’t be about that. It might be the police again, of course, but his disdain for their capabilities was growing with each passing hour. They still had no idea who had broken into his hotel and left a dead body on his floor, and he was fairly certain he was the only one they’d brought in to question on the matter.
Like he would leave such an obvious mess if he’d done the deed.
And then there was Carrie. He didn’t want to think about that. He tipped back his drink and gulped it down.
His phone began to ring once again, a shrill annoying noise that made him sigh. Whoever wanted to speak to him wasn’t giving up. He grabbed his cell from the coffee table and read the display. His body turned to stone. It was Carrie.
“Yes?” he answered in a cool and indifferent tone.
“Jace, I’ve found something.” Her voice sounded hushed but on the edge of delight.
In the background, taxis honked, and he wondered why she hadn’t gone home to do work like she’d said. She’d turned him down because her career was more important to her than he was, yet she was still out, somewhere in the city. He gripped the phone tighter in his hand and eyed the gin bottle on the coffee table. Another drink might be needed after this call.
“I was under the impression that you were going home to do work this evening,” Jace said.
“Sarah took me out for a couple of after-work drinks because she saw how upset I was.” Carrie cleared her throat. He could hear her heels clacking on the sidewalk, quickly, like she was moving fast. “That’s not important. I saw her, Jace. I saw Madison.”
Jace sat up straight. “You saw her. Where?”
“At a bar.” Carrie paused as another taxi belted in the background. “Listen, I followed her to what I think is her actual apartment building.”
“That was foolish,” Jace said, standing from the couch and squeezing his fist by his side. “You could have been attacked again.”
“She didn’t see me. No one did.” Carrie took a deep breath and continued. “I almost tried talking to her, but then I thought better of it. We don’t need her as your alibi now, but we need to find out what she knows.”
“Where does she live?” He wasn’t sure what he would do with the information, but he had to know.
“Midtown East, down fifty-seventh street and almost to the river. Third floor. Why do you want to know? It’s a bad idea for you to go and talk to her. You should let me do it.”
“I won’t have you going near her,” Jace said in a low voice. “You don’t put yourself in harm’s way like that again.”
“Why the hell did you want me to be your lawyer if you don’t want me to do my job?” Her voice grew louder as the tempo of her heels against concrete increased.
“It’s not your job to interrogate dangerous people,” Jace said, keeping his voice calm, though he was anything but. Carrie had come so close to going into Madison’s apartment. Madison, who had to be involved in this murder. Carrie could have been hurt. She could have been killed. He didn’t know what Madison was capable of, or if she was just a pawn in a bigger game, but he wouldn’t let Carrie find out.
“Well, someone has to do it,” Carrie said, voice still on edge. “And it’s not like we can tell the police about it, since we said nothing about her in your statement.”
“And who’s fault is that? I didn’t ask you to lie and say you’re my alibi, Carrie.”
“You certainly didn’t put up much of an argument!” She was almost yelling now, and it made him want to reach through the phone and pull her into his arms. Everything inside him desired to have her there with him right now, to take all her frustration away. He wanted to carry her into his bed and make her forget all about alibis and girls named Madison and murders. She’d be safe with her legs wrapped around his hips. Safe and his.
“Come over here. Now.”
“What?” she asked in a gasp.
“Come over here right now.”
“Sex can’t be your answer to everything.” The click of her heels faded away, replaced by her breath on the phone.
“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”
The only response she gave was silence, her heavy breath the only sound other than the familiar noises of the city in the background. He was giving her one last chance to be his. It was now or never. If she didn’t want him, then so be it. But she had to make a choice.
“Tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she finally said in a whisper.
“Then get over here and get in my bed,” he said before clicking off the phone. He’d made himself clear. Either she would come to his penthouse and give herself to him or she wouldn’t. His body yearned for her, and she’d just admitted she felt the same. Tonight, he would show Carrie exactly what kind of pleasure he could provide if only she would stop battling against the overwhelming electricity she knew they had, and o
nce he did, she’d never want to leave his bed again.
In the meantime, he had something he needed to take care of.
Carrie found herself in the lobby of The Grand Rizzato, wondering when she’d let lust take over her brain. As soon as her heels sunk into the plush maroon carpet, chandeliers sparkling overhead, the concierge who had delivered their dinner two nights before stepped forward and ushered Carrie upstairs. When they reached the top floor, Carrie expected Jace to be waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s just stepped out for a moment, Miss Simmons,” the concierge said. “He said that you should make yourself at home.”
Glancing around at the sleek yet sterile room, Carrie kicked off her heels and settled onto the couch. She couldn’t believe she’d come here. In the heat of the moment, it had seemed like such a good idea. Or, rather, an impossible thing to turn down. She’d ached to feel the spark of his touch, and that desire had carried her all the way uptown.
Now that she was here, alone, doubt tickled the back of her mind. Why hadn’t he waited to see if she would come? Why had he left when he’d been expecting her to come running into his arms?
The door swung open, and Jace stepped inside the penthouse. Her stomach twisted at the sight of him, dark eyes, dark hair, dark suit. Strong and powerful and sharp. His gaze settled on her, lit with that fire that left her weak in the knees. His lips twitched when he saw her on the couch, and he pulled his arm out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of roses.
“I knew you’d come.” He took long strides toward the couch and held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“I thought you weren’t a flowers kind of guy.” Smiling, she took the roses from him and inhaled their sweet scent.
“Sometimes there are exceptions to the rule,” he said with a smile before unbuttoning his jacket and sliding it from his shoulders. He tossed it onto the couch next to her, an ordinary action, but for some reason, it didn’t feel so ordinary to Carrie. Breath caught in her throat, she stood, her bare feet sinking into the carpet.