by Zara Chase
“That’s certainly true.”
Kent was doing the right thing in getting the sex subject out in the open, Jared decided. Going with her instincts and doing it with them both was one thing, but facing up to what she’d done once the passion was spent was clearly a big issue for Naomi. If she could follow their example and treated it as no big deal, she might feel more comfortable.
“What happens first today?” she asked.
Jared shared a glance with Kent, wondering if the abrupt change of subject was a ploy to cover recurring embarrassment, or a signal that she didn’t want to talk about something that wouldn’t happen again. Either way, the relaxed, teasing mood had been replaced by an atmosphere that crackled with tension.
“Sergeant Regan is coming here at eleven,” Jared replied. “Hopefully he’ll have news about the cause of death. Our in-house lawyer, Jack Preston, will be here before that. He dealt with Saul’s legal affairs and needs to talk to you. He’ll also stay with you while you talk to the detective, just in case anything contentious comes up.”
“Thank you.”
“After that, we’ll go to Saul’s flat and grab his laptop. See what it tells us.” Jared reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It is possible that he died from natural causes. You need to be prepared for that.”
“It’s what I’m hoping for,” Naomi said, tears glistening on her lashes. “Anything else is unthinkable.”
“And there’s the small matter of finding Frank, of course,” Kent added.
“What about my family?”
“Do you want to speak with them?” Jared asked.
“No, but you can bet your life they’ll want to speak with me. I’ve been ignoring their calls, but I can’t keep on doing that.”
“We’ve been dodging them, too. Let’s wait until we’ve heard what Regan has to say, then we’ll decide on the rest.”
“Okay.” Naomi nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for breakfast, Kent. I can’t believe I actually ate all that at such a time. Can I help with the dishes?”
“No, you relax for a while,” Jared replied. “Kent and I need to put a bit of time in on business but we’ll be freed up by the time Jack arrives. You’ve got a few hours before then. Why not try and get a bit more sleep?” He grinned at her. “You’ve probably earned it.”
* * * *
Naomi climbed the stairs, unable to decide if they were being considerate, or just wanted rid of her. They probably thought she was a total trollop, given what she’d done with the pair of them over the course of a few short hours. She wished Jared hadn’t seen her in the pool with Kent, even though she didn’t regret what they’d done and he would have heard about it from Kent anyway. But hearing wasn’t the same as seeing.
Shit, what did it matter? Naomi threw herself onto her bed and closed her eyes. It had been fun and there had been precious little of that in her life for a long time now. What with the bitchiness of her profession, always trying to remain in demand yet steering clear of the drug-fuelled parties where the movers and shakers hung out, worrying about Saul, trying to protect him from their grasping father…fun had come low on her list of priorities.
She felt riddled with guilt and blamed herself for Saul’s death. She should have been there for him more often. As he became more successful, everyone wanted a piece of him. She knew how that felt, but in spite of the fact that Saul had been a strapping six-three with movie-star good looks that opened all sorts of doors for him, she was the stronger sibling, better able to fend off the demands of their greedy family and hangers-on. Their father had long ago learned not to tap Naomi for handouts but she suspected he still managed to guilt Saul into stumping up far more often than he’d let on to Naomi.
Saul was too nice for his own good and found it hard to say no to anyone. He assured her that Jared and Kent had been a huge help to him in that respect—dealing with all the dross and leaving him free to do what he did best. Naomi had been glad he’d found agents who had his best interests at heart and felt ashamed for doubting them.
Then she thought of the locked room along the corridor and wondered if there was some foundation in those doubts.
She sighed, deciding that time would tell, and glanced at the clock. Still only just after eight in the morning. What was she supposed to do for almost three hours? She was tired but her mind was way too busy to shut down. She ought to do something proactive, like preparing lists of questions for Saul’s lawyer and for the detective, but it was hard to know what she needed to ask until she heard what they had to tell her about the circumstances surrounding her brother’s death. She imagined Saul would have left something to their reptile of a father in his will which, of course, was what he’d be waiting to hear and was all he cared about. Then he’d be all over Saul’s estate, demanding to know when he could get his hands on his inheritance. Naomi shuddered. As soon as she got her answers and had buried her brother, she would be out of the old man’s life forever.
She closed her eyes but all she got was flashes of Jared’s probing gaze as he spoke so casually about being a Dom. And Kent, too, controlling his breathing while he submerged himself and sucked a climax from her like it was no big deal. She rubbed her thighs together, reliving the moment. Her pussy was slick with moisture again and her fingers, developing a life of their own, slid to her zipper. She lifted her hips to hoist her jeans down. Then her fingers slid inside her panties as she did for herself what Kent had just done with his lips.
Except it wasn’t nearly as satisfying.
A tapping at the door roused her. She glanced at the clock and gasped. It was gone ten-thirty. She had slept after all. Pretty soundly, too. The door opened and Jared stuck his head around it, grinning when he saw her lying flat on her back on top of the covers. Well, he’d told her to get some sleep. What was so funny about that? Then she glanced down and groaned. She must have fallen asleep with her jeans still around her thighs and her thong crooked. No prizes for guessing what she’d been doing.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes, fine. I’ll be down in a moment.”
“Take your time. Jack’s just arrived but there’s no hurry.”
“I said I’ll be right there.”
“Yeah, you did.” She stood up and turned her back on him, waiting for her blush to subside, but sensed his looming presence directly behind her. The damned man didn’t have the decency to let her recover from her embarrassment in private. So much for British good manners. His hands came to rest on her waist and he pushed her hair aside so he could nuzzle her neck. “Glad you feel you can be yourself here, darling,” he said in a soft, sexy drawl that got her pussy leaking all over again. “But we don’t want you to feel you have to do anything you don’t want to. We’ll keep our raging libidos in check. Promise.”
“Now isn’t the time for this conversation,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the reassuring solidity of his body, just for a fleeting moment.
“You just need to understand we’re all on the same side here, and you can have as much or as little of Kent and me as makes you happy.” He ran a hand lightly over her backside. “You’re grieving, so are we, and we’ll help one another in whichever way works for you.” He kissed the back of her neck. “There are no rules, and no right and wrong way to deal with bereavement. See you downstairs.”
And he was gone.
Naomi used the bathroom, wondering what to make of Jared’s pretty speech. We’re all on the same side here. Reassurance or a cover up?
“Stop it!” she told her reflection as she tugged at the tangles in her hair with a brush. “Give him the benefit of the doubt until you know better.”
She went downstairs and found the guys in the conservatory, seated around a table beside the pool. Was that the best place to conduct the interview with the police? She wondered. Every time she looked at that sparkling water it would remind of the hot sex she’d had in it with Kent. But hell, it didn’t seem to bother him. If he could block it out, so could s
he.
“Here she is,” Jared said, standing. Kent and the other guy with them stood also. “Naomi, this is Jack Preston, our in-house attorney. Jack, meet Saul’s sister, Naomi.”
Jack was a good four or five inches shorter than Jared and Kent, and at least thirty pounds heavier and ten years older. But there was a no-nonsense competence about him that Naomi found reassuring.
“It’s good to meet you,” Jack said, taking her hand. “I just wish it could have been under difference circumstances. Saul was a great guy and we’ll all miss him terribly.”
“Thank you,” she said, appreciating the condolence because she sensed it was heartfelt.
“You want us to leave you to it while you talk to Naomi about Saul’s will?” Kent asked.
“I don’t mind if you stay,” Naomi replied.
“Okay, but—”
“The policemen are here,” Alice said, putting her head around the door.
“I guess the will can wait a while,” Jack said. “I figure you’d prefer to hear what the police have to say first, Naomi.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Okay, Alice,” Jared said. “Show them in, please.”
Naomi was suddenly glad to be surrounded by so many men, fearful of what she was about to hear, although there was no reason for that fear. And she absolutely didn’t need protecting. She’d been looking out for herself since the age of sixteen and had never let any man get too close.
Jared rose to shake the hand of the first man to enter the conservatory, and then the second. He greeted them both by name and then introduced Detective Sergeant Regan and Detective Constable Salter to Naomi. They expressed their condolences in a professional, detached manner that implied they’d done it many times before. Then they took the two remaining seats at the table and accepted Alice’s offer of coffee.
“What can you tell me about the cause of my brother’s death?” Naomi asked anxiously, folding her arms on the table and leaning expectantly toward the detective sergeant.
“Unfortunately, not what you want to hear.”
“What can be worse than being dead?” Naomi demanded to know, nerves and a premonition making her short-tempered.
“All indications were of a heart attack,” Regan replied, seemingly unoffended by her outburst. “But, unfortunately, large traces of androgen and anabolic drug levels in your brother’s blood tell a different story.”
“Steroids?” Naomi shared a bewildered glance around the table. “I don’t believe it. Saul hated everything to do with drugs—recreational and performance enhancing. We both did. We saw enough of what they did to ruin lives while we were growing up.”
“Top sportsmen are under almost unbearable strain to perform, day in and day out,” Regan told her. “Sometimes the temptation is too much to—”
“Not Saul,” Naomi insisted.
“I agree,” Jared said. “Anyway, he wouldn’t be that stupid. He knew he would be tested for drugs if he did well at Wimbledon and never would have taken the risk.”
“He was coming back from an injury that caused his ranking to slip, I understand,” Salter remarked.
“That’s not unusual,” Kent said. “Injuries are part and parcel of all major sports.”
“Had your brother put on weight, suffered from mood swings, anything like that which would indicate regular use?” Regan asked.
“I can answer that one,” Jared replied. “He’d put on muscle, sure, but then he was hitting the gym daily to get back into shape. He did it the hard way, no help from artificial stimulants required. And mood swings?” Jared paused contemplatively. “The injury got him down for a while, and he was pissed off at having to miss the French, but he got over that. The last time I saw him, he was fine.”
“Even so,” Regan said. “The evidence doesn’t lie. He definitely had the steroids in his system and that’s what I have to go by.”
“Can steroids cause a fatal heart attack?” Naomi asked. “Especially if the victim isn’t a regular user?”
“That’s up to the inquest to decide, but my understanding is that’s more likely to happen if the victim does use regularly. Steroids cause the same changes in heart muscle that occur in chronic heart failure.”
“The press will have a field day once it gets out,” Kent muttered.
“Is that all you care about?” Naomi glowered at him. “It’s my brother’s reputation we’re talking about here. He was not a drug-user and I intend to prove it. Someone must have slipped him a massive dose of steroids without his knowledge and his heart couldn’t withstand the sudden influx.” Tears of anger and frustration blurred her vision. Jared took her hand and squeezed it. “How are steroids ingested anyway?”
“They can be taken orally or injected,” Jared said.
“There were no injections sites found on Saul’s body,” Salter said.
“Well, there you are then. Anyone could have slipped pills into a sports drink and I’m guessing Saul wouldn’t have tasted them.”
“That would imply murder,” Regan said gently.
“They probably didn’t intend to murder him,” Naomi replied. “They just wanted to be sure he’d test positive the next time. That would be enough to scupper his career.”
“Who would want to do that?” Salter asked, pen poised.
“Take your pick from his rivals on the circuit,” Naomi said, shrugging.
“He was getting a lot of sponsorship that higher-ranked players resented him for,” Kent said. “And the press is already speculating about a drug-related death. We thought they were being sensationalist. Makes you wonder who put that idea into their tiny little minds, doesn’t it?”
It was on the tip of Naomi’s tongue to mention Frank, Saul’s hitting partner, and partner in other respects. She held back at the last moment. She might have different reasons for not wanting adverse press coverage than Jared and Kent. But the fact of the matter was, Saul had worked hard to keep his private life private while he was alive. She owed it to him to do the same now he was dead. It was just about the only thing she still could do for him. Well, that and find out how those steroids got in his system, of course.
“Any chance we can keep this under wraps, at least for now?” Jared asked.
“Sure, it won’t leak from our end,” Regan replied. “You ask me, the press are a load of vultures. But it will all come out at the inquest.”
“Thanks,” Kent said. “That’ll give us time to get our act together.”
Thinking of their business again, Naomi fumed.
“Unless you know something we don’t, as far as we’re concerned, this is an accidental death,” Regan said. “There was no sign of a struggle or a forced entry at his flat, so we’re not looking for anyone else in connection with it.”
“Just as a matter of interest,” Kent said. “Did you find any steroids in Saul’s apartment?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.” Regan stood up and his sidekick followed suit. “We’ve finished with Saul’s flat,” he said, handing over the keys to Jack. “I guess you know who gets to have these.”
Naomi sat where she was, struggling to digest what she’d just heard. She wasn’t even sure if she responded to the policemen’s farewells when they shook her hand and left.
“We have got to find Frank,” she said when Jared returned from seeing them off. “You don’t think he persuaded Saul to…Saul was so impressionable, especially when dealing with people he loved…he could have—”
“Breathe, darling,” Jared said firmly. “Just take a deep breath and give yourself a moment. You’ve had a shock.”
“I’m not shocked, I’m furious.” Naomi knew her eyes must be blazing with anger, and she probably looked as manic as she felt. She simply didn’t care. “Who did this to Saul?” she demanded to know. “And why? It’s so damned unfair! He struggled so hard to get where he was. He wouldn’t just throw it all away. He knew the dangers of drugs. Everyone does after the professional cyclists’ debacle. You don’t believe
he took steroids, do you, Jared?” she asked, grasping his arm.
“No, actually I don’t believe it for a minute.”
Naomi expelled a long breath and let a lot of her anger out with it. “Then how do we find out who fed them to him?”
“We go to his flat, I guess. But Jack needs to talk to you about the legal side of Saul’s affairs first so we’ll leave you to it.”
“Stay,” she said sharply. “If I’m going to hear that Saul left everything to our foul-mouthed father, then I need immoral support. Not that I want to benefit from his demise, but I just don’t want them to get posthumously what they’ve been angling for ever since Saul hit the big time.”
Jared and Kent shared a glance and resumed their seats.
“If you like.” They sat on either side of her, thighs pressed against hers, and she felt soothed by their presence. “Okay, Jack, let’s hear it.”
“Well, Naomi, I’m pleased to give you some good news. Your fears are unjustified with regard to your father. Saul left very specific instructions that in the event of his death, he wanted neither your father nor your step-brothers to have anything to do with his funeral arrangements.” He fixed Naomi with a kindly smile. “But, more specifically, they don’t benefit under the terms of his will.”
She felt dazed. “They don’t?”
“Not a penny.”
Kent chuckled. “That’ll put the fox in the henhouse.”
“Saul left a few charitable bequests, a decent sum of money to Frank Arnold, and the residue of his estate to you.”
Naomi opened her mouth and then closed it again, but no sound came out. Before she could properly assimilate her thoughts, Jared’s mobile rang.
“Don’t know who it is,” he said, checking the display. “But they’ve called twice before.”
“Probably the press,” Kent said.
“Yeah well, they’re persistent little buggers, whoever they are. Best see what they want. Maynard,” he said, pressing the button to take the call. “Yes,” he said, having listened for a moment. “I do. Oh, just a moment, I’m putting you on speakerphone. It’s accident and emergency at Guys’ Hospital,” he told the others. “You all need to hear this. Okay, go ahead,” he said into the phone. “You were saying you have an accident victim there who’s asking for me.”