But it’s going to stop with me. I’ve already brought the FBI into it. A friend of mine is married to an agent who works in cyber espionage, and she put me in touch with someone high up in the trafficking task force. He’s going to be working with us to bring this ring down and get them into prison. We’re still compiling data against them, but so far, we have nothing that will stick to Blackwell. He’s got to be dirty too.
My phone rings. It’s my security people in Los Angeles. I hate to admit it, but I’m almost afraid to answer it. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Marley.
I take a deep breath and press the button.
“Yes?”
37
Marley Jacobs
A very large man with a shiny shaved head stands between us and the car door.
“Excuse me. That young lady is my employer’s date. Kindly step away from her so I can escort her back to her companion.”
Another man comes around us to the other side. I turn around and see the two hotel doormen looking alarmed. One of them calls out to me. “Is there a problem, miss?”
I swallow hard. I’m right in the middle of this circle of scary-looking people. I don’t answer the doorman, mainly because I suddenly can’t find my voice.
“No problem,” one of the men calls out.
At this point I’m not certain who is a good guy and who’s not. I just know to stick close to Leigh since she’s easy to pick out of the crowd.
“No, we won’t excuse you,” says the mountain of muscle just behind me. “This young lady has an emergency and needs to leave ASAP. Please send her regrets to your employer.”
He pushes both Leigh and I to the side of the man blocking us, and the car quickly inches up to let us get in. Leigh opens the door and as I go to climb in, someone takes hold of my left arm and yanks me away from the car.
“Hey,” I yell and try to wrench myself free. My five-inch heels, gorgeous though they may be, are not helping at all. I twist my ankle and nearly dive to the ground, but someone catches my elbow, keeping me vertical.
“Let go of her now, or we’ll contact law enforcement.”
I look up to see one of the huge men who had formed a ring around me glare with menace at the equally large man who was trying to snatch me away. They’re fighting over me, pulling me in opposite directions.
This could go south fast.
As if a director on a film set shouted action, everyone moves at once. The bald man attempting to pull me away from the car suddenly tips backward, and the big man working with Leigh seizes the opportunity, shoving me into the car where Leigh jumps in after me. The door isn’t even closed when the driver takes off, tires screeching as they peel away from the asphalt.
I fall back hard into the seat and look at Leigh next to me. “Whew,” I say, letting out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “That was close. God.”
“Listen to me.” She pats my hand. “I’m taking you right to the airport. After I put you on the plane and watch it take off, I’ll go to your hotel room and get your things. I will ship them out first thing a.m. It’s not safe for us to dally. These guys are not kidding around.”
I’m trembling from the adrenaline rush. “I can’t believe this shit. I didn’t know that Rico was so insane… and so obsessed. And so rich. I thought he was just another kinky businessman who was borderline psychopath.”
She shrugs. “Psychopath, yes. As for his wealth—maybe back when you knew him he wasn’t too affluent, but in the last two years he spearheaded a bear hug on one of the biggest tech companies in the world. He’s filthy rich now. And possibly crazier than ever.”
“What’s a bear hug?”
“Generally, it’s a semi-hostile takeover but with a whole lot of money thrown at the one being swallowed up—more than the shares are worth on the market. But this one was dirty. It was equivalent to a coup d’état of a country.”
“Coup d’état? Is that when a country is taken over by the military?”
“It’s when a government is overthrown and a new one installed. It doesn’t have to be the military.” She turns her head, and her eyes take dead aim at me. “The company takeover was bloody, so to speak. It was a stealth attack, and now the bastard thinks he’s a god. And apparently, he wants you. You have to be careful now.”
“Shit,” I mutter.
Less than an hour later, I’m on a private jet, and the pilot has closed the doors and is preparing for takeoff. The two large men from the hotel are accompanying me, as well as a middle-aged female who is the flight attendant. She smiles at me warmly as I belt myself in per her instructions.
“My name is Nanette, and I’ll be your attendant for the flight. May I get you a drink, Mrs. Creed? You look a bit frazzled.”
I instinctively smooth my hair. I’m still wearing my evening dress, but I’ve removed my shoes, which was a glorious relief. “Yes, I could really use one. Vodka tonic with lime?”
“Coming right up.”
She returns in what seems like only seconds with the drink and napkin in hand. “Thank you.” I smile, take a sip, and nearly moan. The drink is perfectly mixed, and I totally need the infusion of alcohol. Maybe it will lull me to sleep, and I can forget the train wreck called my life, if only for a few hours.
When I wake up my ears are popping, and the cabin is dim. Through the fog of sleep, I hear Nanette’s voice. “We’re descending now. We’ll be landing shortly, so please stay belted in.”
I need water. I look around and see the remnants of my drink. The ice has melted and diluted what was left into flavored water. I swallow it down, wishing like hell I had more. I’ll ask Nanette for some when we land.
When the jet finally rolls to a stop, I reluctantly push my feet back into the torturous shoes. “Nanette,” I call out softly, “may I have some water please.”
She brings me a bottle, and I guzzle it down, draining it. She’s watching me with a kind smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring you one sooner. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I was completely out. Um, do you know if anyone will be meeting me?”
“Yes, Mr. Creed sent a car for you. It should be waiting at the gate.”
“Excellent. I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
“You look beautiful.”
“Maybe I did seven or eight hours ago. Now I feel like something the cat dragged in from the bog.” I give her a rueful grin. “And my feet hurt like hell.”
“Yes, our feet weren’t made to wear that type of shoe, were they?”
“Not at all.”
The great thing about flying privately is you don’t have to wait for anyone else to move out of your way to disembark. Or to do anything, for that matter. I could totally get used to it even though it’s terrible for the environment.
I spot the dark sedan from the steps of the jet and slowly make my way toward it, the stiff leather of the shoes rubbing against the raw blisters on my feet. Rick is standing beside the back door of the car, and he opens it as I approach, nodding solemnly as I go to climb into the back seat.
I quickly discover it is not empty.
38
Fletcher Creed
The door opens and there she is.
I’d been trying to quell my impatience as I waited for the plane to land. It was a few minutes late, and my stomach wouldn’t settle until Marley was in the car with me and safe. The past few days have been among the most stressful in my life, and I want things to go back to normal.
I heard the plane before I saw it. It emerged out of the night sky like a beautiful silver bird gracefully landing on the long strip that cuts through the grass on either side of two concrete lines.
Now she’s seated next to me.
Finally.
I scrutinize her from head to toe, my gaze roving, trying to see if anything is amiss. Doesn’t look like it. My wife is an exceedingly beautiful woman. If I’m honest, I think she is the most beautiful woman I may ever have seen. Wha
t’s mystifying and all the more alluring is that she genuinely doesn’t seem to be aware of how gorgeous she is.
But I am, and it makes me protective of her in a way I’ve never been with any other woman.
Even though this marriage began as strictly a business deal with no emotion involved, it hasn’t been that for a while. The incredible night we spent together answered any doubts I was harboring. That’s why when I saw her with another man at the party, I felt the hot gut-punch of jealousy slam into me and reacted like a jerk.
Then she ran.
I’m a man who’s very used to getting what I want so in addition to worrying about Marley’s safety once I learned she was in danger, I also missed her company. Coming home to a house that was empty, eating dinner by myself without her lilting voice and infectious giggle was just downright sad.
Plus, I was freaking scared that she would be hurt before we could find her.
Within seconds, the car smoothly leaps away from its parking space.
I planned to pull her into my arms and tell her how much I missed her, but now that the moment is here, I’m frozen to the seat. Instead, I say stiffly, “Marley, I realize you’ve had a trying night, but we need to talk.”
“The understatement of the century,” she mutters under her breath and then closes her eyes, leaning back against the headrest. “Go ahead if you must,” she continues. “I’ll listen while I’m awake. I can’t promise I’ll be that way for very long.”
“I’ve been briefed about your abrupt departure at the event, in case you’re interested. After you left, Hendel was so incensed he caused a scene in the hotel lobby. He immediately left and headed to your hotel, went straight to your room.”
Her head whips toward me. Suddenly she seems wide awake. “He went to my room?”
“Yes, he did. Instead of you, he found my staff packing up your belongings. When Leigh got there he very nearly attacked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have come out the winner, that I can promise.” I smirk when I consider how such a scene would have looked. Leigh can kill a much larger adversary—and with her hands alone—in seconds.
“But how… well, yeah, he knew which hotel I was staying in because he picked me up. I guess learning the room number isn’t that big a leap.”
“No, it’s not. But it is a quantum leap to know you left Chicago and went to LA. How do you suppose he knew about that?” My attention is momentarily diverted by the fact that her nipples are poking through the satiny fabric of her dress. I have an irresistible urge to touch them. What would she do if I just reach across and tweak them?
“So you don’t believe it was a chance meeting then?”
“Pfft. You do?” I roll my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re that naïve.”
“I did think it was random because I had no clue that Rafe was working for the maniac. How do you think he found me then?”
“Since I myself couldn’t find you, I’d really like to know how he did. How long ago was it that you saw the man prior to ‘running into him’ in LA?” My fingers do air quotes because it was not a chance meeting in the least bit. The bastard was tracking her.
“I think it was about five months ago, right before our wedding.” She smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Shit. Tara.”
“What?”
“Now, thanks to Rafe, Rico knows both of our real names. I hope she’s safe.”
“I have security watching her 24/7 for the time being.”
“Oh good.” Her hand clamps over her chest. “I was worrying about her.”
“So to continue… You didn’t see him since before our wedding?”
“No, I don’t th—” She snaps her fingers. “Wait. I did run into him at the coffee shop near my loft. He told me he’d visited Tara, which I thought was strange since Tara said he didn’t seem particularly interested in pursuing any kind of arrangement with her. Yet later when I went by, she told me he came to talk to her and stayed for quite some time.”
“And that was after you moved into my place?”
“Yes. About a month after our wedding, give or take. I think that was all.”
“Is there something that you take with you wherever you go?”
“Usually, my phone—”
I interrupt her. “But you didn’t bring it to LA. You bought a prepaid.”
“Right.”
“What items, if any, do you bring everywhere you go?”
Sniffling, she rests her head back again. She looks tired—she’s had a long night and no doubt, an adrenaline crash. She makes a valiant effort to force her eyes open again. “I can’t think of anything… well, my makeup case… I guess I do tend to take it everywhere. Definitely I take my lipstick and gloss.”
“The same ones all the time?”
She screws her lips to one side, her eyes unfocused. “Yeah,” she says after a few seconds, “pretty much. I mean, I keep different shades at home, but my portable ones are the same until they run out and I buy a new one.”
“Where is the lipstick and makeup case now?”
She lifts up her purse. “The lipstick’s in here. The makeup case, I assume, is on its way since Leigh promised she’d pack up all my belongings and ship them to me.”
I hold out my hand. “May I see the lipstick?”
She rummages through the small handbag, finding the silver tube among the few items, and then drops it into my outstretched hand.
After examining the outside of it, I open the top, peering into the lid. I slide my finger inside, and I can feel something at the top. “I need to do this at home with a screwdriver. I think I can feel something stuck into it.” I replace the lid and open it, repeating the motion several times.
I give her a sideways glance. “Have you noticed that it doesn’t close all the way? You see that there’s a gap where there shouldn’t be?”
She looks at where I’m pointing. “I never noticed. But… can something like that work over such a long distance? How would he track me all the way to California?”
“They do have a limited range, but if he’s been following you every step of the way of your trip, he’d never be out of range.” He arches his eyebrows. “Now would he?”
She shudders, her slim body reacting visibly to that possibility—being followed and not by a person with good intentions. “Does Tara know that I was on my way back here?”
“Yes, but she’s the only one. I have a man posted there with her to ensure she tells no one else—and for her safety.” I shrug a shoulder. “Not that it makes much difference. They—Holland and company—have to know I brought you back here… but why make things easy for them, right?”
“How did you know about Rico? I never told you anything.”
“Yes.” I frown. “I’m very aware of that. Your friend Tara helped us—under pressure.”
The conversation sputters out, and we become lost in our own thoughts until Rick pulls the car in front of the townhouse. Out of the shadows appear two members of my beefed-up security team who escort us into the house. Rick parks the car in the garage at the rear of the house and as soon as he enters, the alarms are engaged. I take Marley by her elbow and guide her upstairs, walking her directly to her room.
“Are you very tired?”
She nods mutely without even looking up at me.
“All right. It’s past four in the morning here. I’ll let you get some sleep, and we’ll discuss everything in the morning. Or knowing how you like to sleep, maybe afternoon.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Fine.”
For a moment I linger outside her door. She looks up at me expectantly.
“I’m working from home tomorrow, so I’ll make myself available whenever you wake up. It’s important that we talk, air everything out.”
“All right. When I wake up, I’ll shower and then go look for you.”
I lean in closer to her, wanting so badly to kiss her. But I don’t dare. Instead, I offer her a half smile. “Promise?”
She huffs out h
er breath. “Yessss, I promise. Good night.”
39
Marley Jacobs
I’d like to say that true to form, once I close my eyes I don’t reopen them again until noon.
But that’s not what happens. I have a bad nightmare, and when I bolt up in bed, frightened awake, I find Fletcher sleeping next to me. He’s lying on his stomach on top of the covers with his feet dangling off the end of the bed. My heart thumping, I look over to the clock, and it’s just past six a.m. I’ve only been asleep for about two hours. When did he come in my room?
I study his handsome face in sleep. He looks exhausted, poor thing, and I don’t want to wake him. But why is he in here with me? Was he worried about my safety… or was it something else? I try to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake. My circadian rhythm is messed up with time changes and jet lag. Slipping slowly out of bed, I head into the bathroom where I take a bracingly hot one-minute shower, followed by about six minutes of cool water. It’s my wake-up-in-a-hurry routine, and I always feel great when I finish.
Having all of my clothes accessible again is wonderful. For the few days I was away, my options were severely limited. I put on my favorite light pink bra and panties, a shell-pink T-shirt with three-quarter sleeves, and a pair of worn jeans. I jam my bare feet into a pair of slip-on loafers, towel-dry my hair, and spritz on some of my favorite essential-oil spray.
When I go back into the bedroom, he’s still lying there, but his eyes are open. “Good morning.”
“Morning. What’s the matter… you couldn’t sleep?”
I shrug. “I guess not. Are you all right? You look so exhausted.”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He pats the bed. “Come here.”
Faker: A Fake Relationship Romance Page 25