The Wells Brothers: Aaron

by Angela Verdenius

  “And waited for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. This must be important, hey?”

  Aaron surveyed her steadily. “Very.”

  From his tone and expression she couldn’t tell how serious the topic was, but knowing he wouldn’t say anything further until she sat, Shea crossed to the wooden table, placed the Diet Coke and cup of chips onto the surface, then used the bench to step up so she could turn and sit on the table facing outwards, resting her feet on the bench.

  Seemingly not in the least surprised, Aaron easily swung up beside her, his big booted feet resting inches from her much smaller feet clad in black court shoes. The heat from his body seeped deliciously into her side. If she shifted a couple of inches to the left her thigh would bump against his.

  Be still my beating heart.

  Elbows resting on his knees, thick cardboard mug held in one hand, he looked out at the traffic passing on the road not far off.

  Waiting for him to start, she popped the tab on the can and took a refreshing sip of Diet Coke, sighing blissfully as it slid down her throat.

  “Tell me about the bank, the jewellery, the woman,” Aaron ordered quietly.

  Startled, a hot chip halfway to her mouth, she looked at him. “Huh?”

  “You did a reading tonight at Dean Fortworth’s house. How did you know about the jewellery?”

  This was interesting. Popping the chip into her mouth, Shea chewed while contemplating the handsome profile of the man sitting beside her.

  “How hard do you have to think about it?” Aaron took a mouthful of hot drink. “Trying to figure out what, exactly, to tell me?”

  “Trying to figure out just what you expect me to say.”

  “Trying to figure out what to leave out of the explanation?”

  “Trying to figure out why you’re being a bit of a dick about it.”

  Gaze still on the traffic, he drawled, “Trying to figure out how long to stretch this out?”

  “Trying to figure out how you knew.” Shea ate another chip, took another sip of Diet Coke. Just what the hell was this about? “Did Dean ring you and complain?”

  “Just tell me what you know, Shea.”

  “How about this. You tell me a little, I’ll tell you a little.”

  His head turned slowly towards her. Not one flicker of amusement was on his face. Those eyes were practically boring a hole in her head. “Tell me.”

  Okay, so this was way more serious than she’d thought. “How much trouble has this caused? Did he call your security in right after I left?” Her eyes widened a little. “Are you investigating the missing jewellery?”

  Placing the cup on the table with slow deliberateness, Aaron got off the table, positioned himself directly in front of her, braced his hands each side of her thighs and leaned in, demanding with quiet menace, “What do you know of the missing jewellery, Shea?”

  Alarm trickled in but she refused to show it. Times like this called for a little bit of truth. “Only what I told him.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “No.” The lights of a passing car shone briefly in his eyes.

  Holy cow, he didn’t even blink. In fact, the light seemed to pick out a dangerous glint in those pale irises. A flicker of light and gone, the usual street lights casting his features into harsh planes.

  “You will tell me exactly what you know, Shea.” His voice was deadly calm, deadly quiet. “Or I can take you back to my company and we can have a little chat there.”

  “Geez.” Nerves had her give a shaky laugh. “That sounds a little kinky.”

  His eyes didn’t blink.

  Uh oh. Now she was scared. Scared because Cole, damn it, had gotten the information, and if she was guessing correctly that information was highly sensitive.

  ~*~

  Normally Aaron would have enjoyed her teasing but right now there was nothing even faintly amusing about the situation.

  He’d been on his way home when he’d received the phone call from Dean Fortworth. The man had practically been hysterical, demanding how ‘the bloody witch knew!’ and convinced there was a leak somewhere - namely pointing the finger at Wells Security.

  That angered Aaron. Dean knew damned good and well that Wells Security would never leak sensitive information, just as he knew damn good and well that a leak was more likely from his side. But so far only a few people knew about the missing jewellery - Dean, his assistant manager, Brianna Hartiage who owned the jewels and her husband, Aaron and Ryan whom the Hartiage’s had hired to put extra security on their house, fearful that whoever took the jewels from the bank might come to their house looking for more valuables. That was the sum total.

  Until tonight. Shea Winters had waltzed into Dean’s home and blatantly hinted at missing jewels. So just how had she found out?

  The guilt on her face was telling, angering him even more. Worse, he didn’t normally get this angry. Finding a loose thread was something he enjoyed unravelling until he found the source, but that it was Shea - well, hell, that had him burning inside.

  It had been a long time since anyone had been able to get him so riled. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time. That made this situation unique.

  And so bloody wrong.

  Had he really read her so erroneously?

  No, he hadn’t. Shea might stray from the straight and narrow but not this far. Besides, her knowing something didn’t mean she was involved.

  Knew something she sure as hell was going to tell him if he had to drag it out of her.

  His eyes narrowed.

  The guilt on her face fled as fleetingly as it had appeared, those false eyelashes so impossibly long sweeping down to partially hide her eyes from him as she silently debated how much to reveal.

  “All of it,” he growled.

  “I only know-”

  “Don’t even think of spouting that ‘Spirit’ crap. Don’t forget I know you don’t have a single mystical bone in your body.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess.” Meeting his gaze full-on, she took a mouthful of Diet Coke.

  He just looked at her.

  She shrugged.

  He kept looking at her, silently willing her to spill the beans, letting the coldness show in his eyes.

  Men who’d slice a person in half and lick the blood off the blade while laughing had flinched under his unrelenting gaze. Shea simply looked to the left of his nose.

  “It was just a guess,” she lied. “He’s a banker, people keep their valuables in the bank.”

  “Try again.”

  “Things get lost.”

  For the first time in his life frustration nipped at his heels. Waiting was something he was good at, using silence to force criminals to blurt out confessions or information, but with Shea…damn it, with Shea he just wanted her to answer him, to be honest.

  “Don’t waste my time,” he said coldly.

  Her head jerked up slightly, a flash of hurt in her eyes that was quickly hidden.

  Interesting, and something he’d analyse later, but right now he was focussed on information.

  “If I’m such a waste of time,” she replied a little nastily, “don’t let me keep you any longer.” She started to slide off the table.

  Aaron stopped her by the simple process of clamping his hands on her thighs, holding her in place.

  She glanced coolly from his hands to his face. “I do believe that could be construed as some form of assault.”

  “You’re seeking to divert the conversation.” He was equally as cool. “It won’t work.”

  “Maybe I’ll just scream, then. That won’t look good for your company, will it?”

  The little witch. He’d had that threat flung at him before. It hadn’t bothered him then. Sure as hell bothered him now. Like a thorn needling under his skin.

  “Later,” he s
aid with quiet menace, “we’ll address that little comment. Right now, you’re going to tell me how you knew about those jewels.”

  Leaning forward, she looked him in the eyes. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Fine.” Abruptly he shoved away. “We can do this at my office with police attendance.”

  “Police?” Shea reacted as though she’d been slapped. Face white, she stood up fast. “Aaron, no!” She started to hop down, lost her balance and pitched forward.

  Moving quickly, Aaron caught her, letting her fall forward against his chest. Every lush curve was pressed against him from breasts to thighs as he held her close, the warmth of her body imprinting on his with delicious decadence.

  Yes, his body loved it, his blood flowing with sudden heat, his shaft stirring as her softness burrowed against him. He’d have gladly nestled her close and explored those curves, he’d planned to do so sometime close in the very near future, but circumstances had changed the situation.

  Letting her slide down his body - just a little sweet torture - he set her on her feet but kept his hands on her waist. “Give me one good reason, Shea.”

  She swallowed.

  Ignoring the unexpected and completely unprofessional urge to sweep her against him and wipe the fear from her eyes, promising he’d slay all her dragons, Aaron pulled the mantle of his office around him, focussed on the job. “Now.”

  “Aaron…” She didn’t hang onto him, didn’t pull away, instead threading the fingers of her hands together and squeezing until her knuckles went white. “Aaron, please…”

  “I’m waiting.”

  She glanced away.

  He wasn’t about to be played for a fool. “Your choice, Shea. Just me, or me and the police. Make it.”

  She bit her lip.

  “Now.”

  There was definite shame in her eyes now when she looked up at him. “It’s really nothing, Aaron. I promise.”

  Damn it. Releasing her, he stepped back.

  “Wait! I’ll tell you!” She took a steadying breath. “I’ll tell you.”

  It caught him completely by surprise when she turned and hopped back up onto the table, settling that curvy bum on the surface and picking up the Diet Coke. Arching one eyebrow, he watched as she took several bolstering swigs of the drink. When the can lowered he could see her shoulders visibly straighten, the determination in her eyes as she patted the table top.

  “Have a seat in my office.”

  For several seconds his mind actually went blank. First time in years. He almost had to blink to clear it. “Pardon?”

  “I’m about to confess to some sins.” Her laugh was self-deprecating. “I don’t need to look at your face while I’m doing it.”

  Talk about being honest. He could respect that.

  With a mental shrug, he resumed sitting beside her, turning his head to watch her profile.

  “I’d ask you to promise me something but that’d be a waste of time,” she said bluntly.

  “Depends.”

  “Let’s not even go there.” Resting her forearms on her thighs, dropping her wrists over her knees, she swirled the contents of the can around, the hiss of the fizzy drink audible. “One of the girls at school dropped her mobile. Cole was returning it, saw the screen and…” She paused before continuing, “He read it, found the information about the missing jewellery. He knew I was doing a reading tonight so we filed that information away for possible use.”

  “Who was the girl?”

  “Dean’s daughter. She overheard her parents talking and decided to share that juicy tid-bit with her best friend via text message.” She looked at him. “That’s the truth.”

  Taking out his mobile, Aaron dialled Dean’s number, ordered when the man picked up, “Ask your daughter who she told about the missing jewellery.”

  “My daughter?” Dean sputtered.

  “Just do it. I’ll wait.”

  Dean muttered something, put the phone down. In the background he could hear words being exchanged, a sound of indignation, a few more words, then a young girl’s voice going higher. As he waited he studied Shea’s profile. Watching the traffic, she held the can of soft drink loosely in one hand. The calmness emanating from her was a testament to the certainty of her statement. Shea was telling the truth. Aaron didn’t need to even hear the sudden yelling in the background, the accusations, the shrieked ‘I didn’t mean to!’ from Dean’s daughter to confirm it. He knew as sure as the night was dark.

  A full minute of yelling ensued before Dean came back onto the phone. “Jesus Christ! She heard me and her mum talking about it! I can’t believe she shared it with that idiot friend of hers!”

  “The leak was from your side.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” There was an awkward silence before he added grudgingly, “Sorry.”

  “Don’t accuse my company of anything again unless you have irrefutable proof.”

  “What about that witch? Did you ask her how she knew?”

  “You asked me to investigate the leak, nothing else. I’ve given you the answer. Case closed.” Disconnecting the mobile, Aaron returned it to his pocket.

  Shea continued to sit silently watching the traffic, but Aaron would bet his bottom dollar she was listening.

  “Didn’t dob in the fake?” she asked quietly.

  “Not my job.”

  “No. Your job is to get answers.” She cut him a sidelong look. “Any way you can.”

  “As is yours,” he returned calmly.

  “Touché,” she said a touch bitterly.

  Mimicking her pose, he rested his forearms on his spread thighs, leaning forward comfortably. “Why did you use something so volatile at the reading?”

  “Didn’t plan to but Dean was pushing some buttons.” She shrugged. “I meant to just hint, but then I could see that the whole act was balancing on a cliff edge. You know? Where you can reveal something a little more or pull back. Pulling back would have kept me a couple of the clients, but the others? They were waiting for a revelation.”

  “So you revealed enough to let him know.”

  “I did.” Draining the can of Diet Coke, she aimed it at a nearby rubbish bin and threw it in unerringly. “And look where that got me.”

  “My company.”

  Shea slanted him a sardonic look. “Wasting your time. Remember?”

  “Ah.” Looked like that particular statement had struck home. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Aaron smiled slightly.

  “Because you’ll get your man any way you can. You’re like a dog with a bone, chewing it right down to the marrow to suck it out.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  That brought forth a reluctant little laugh.

  Curious, Aaron turned slightly to her. “Why do you do this, Shea?”

  She shrugged. “I’m good at it.”

  “That’s not why.”

  “You want another confession?”

  “I want to know.”

  It was her turn to face him, her expression wary. “Why?”

  “Because I’m interested.”

  The traffic on the road was far enough away that it provided a background drone.

  “Why?”

  Aaron’s gaze drifted over her face, taking in the pert nose, the lush lips, the small determined chin, before gliding upward to lock with those big whiskey-coloured eyes framed with impossibly long eyelashes. The make-up was dramatic but beneath the falseness was a woman he found intriguing, a woman who pulled at him regardless of her profession.

  “Why, Aaron?” Shea’s voice was soft, making him lean towards her to hear. “Why me?”

  “Why not?” He leaned in closer.

  “I’m no one.” She whispered it as he moved ever closer, her words a brush of moist warmth on his lips.

  Stopping mere inches away, he looked deeply into her eyes. “No. You’re someone.” Closing the minute distance, he pressed his lips to hers, savouring the soft give of the plu
mp flesh, brushing his lips across hers, pressing a little harder, then softer, lifting his mouth enough to say a touch huskily, “Someone to me.”

  “I’m a fake.”

  “Only you can fix that.” He kissed her again, lightly, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips.

  “You were going to turn me into the police,” she breathed against his lips.

  “I needed information.” His tongue flicked inside a fraction, licked lightly along the sensitive inner skin of her top lip.

  He felt the shiver go through her, registered the way she leaned into him.

  “So now you have it, I’m okay to kiss?” There was a definite huskiness in her tone, no mistake in the way she offered up her mouth.

  “Now you’ve given it to me, I’m okay to kiss?” he parried.

  “Don’t avoid the question, Mr Wells.”

  Resting his lips ever so slightly against hers, looking so deeply into her eyes, pleasure rippled through him, heat blossoming deep inside as he whispered, “I knew you weren’t involved, I just needed to know how you found out about the jewels.”

  Her hand came to rest lightly on his arm between them. “And if I were guilty?”

  “We wouldn’t be doing this.”

  The warm breeze stirred her hair, brought a faint scent of flowers to tantalise his senses.

  “Ah,” she said softly. “In that case, Mr Wells, you may kiss me.”

  “I thought I already had.” He smiled. “But with such a sweet invitation, Miss Winters, how could I possibly refuse?”

  It was the faintest move to bring their mouths together.

  The kiss started gentle, a pressing of lips, a testing of suppleness, and he enjoyed it - the slow build of warmth, the togetherness, the exploring.

  Then she touched the tip of her tongue to his lips and heat flooded him.

  He opened his mouth a little, an invitation for her to enter, enticing her, but instead of obeying she played with him, her tongue sliding across the opening, flicking in lightly before she kissed him sweetly.

  Pulling his head back a little to break the contact, he eyed her narrowly.

  Her smile was as sweet as her kiss, but the gleam in her eyes was all wanton wickedness.

  “Why, Miss Winters,” he said with menacing softness. “I had no idea you were such a tease.”