Chay flashed a hot, wicked smile.
“Baby,” he said huskily, and then they were in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
For most of the rest of that day, they did what they could to forget what had brought them together, what had brought them to this little piece of paradise.
They needed a break, Chay said, from everything.
Bianca knew the break was for her, not for him, but she didn’t argue. Surely, nothing would change if they spent a handful of hours away from the nightmare that had taken over her life.
Hand in hand, they walked along the beach. Bianca oohed and aahed over the seashells given up by the sea to the sand, and after she’d filled the pockets of her shorts—Chay’s shorts, really, and they were enormous on her—Chay said okay, he’d keep the overflow for her, but she’d have to tuck the shells into his pockets herself.
Dipping her hands in his pockets turned out to be a lovely price to pay, and ended with them racing for his cottage, laughing until they reached it—and then, once they were inside, the laughter turned to sighs.
The next day, they rode his Harley up the coast to a little café that almost overhung the sea. It turned out he had a couple of other leather jackets, but he offered to take the truck, if she preferred it.
Bianca batted her lashes. “I’m going to let you in on a secret, Lieutenant. The second best thing that happened to me the night we went to that Italian restaurant was riding your big, bad motorcycle.”
“It’s a good thing that came in second best,” Chay said, laughing as he dipped her back over his arm for a kiss.
At the café, he ordered a huge platter of Santa Barbara Channel ridgeback shrimp.
She said they’d never finish so much food… But they did.
“Mmm,” she said. “That was delicious.”
“Wait until you taste spiny lobster.”
She groaned. “Chayton. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Actually,” he said, laughing, “you couldn’t. Spiny lobster season doesn’t start until October. You’ll just have to dream about it until…”
He fell silent.
She looked at him.
Was he really talking about the future? She wanted to ask, but how did you do that? How did you say I’d like another glass of sangria and by the way, are you asking me to—to—
“Ice cream,” he said, and he said it so briskly that she knew he was trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, and maybe hoping she wouldn’t misinterpret what he’d said. After all, telling her she’d have to wait to eat spiny lobster in the fall wasn’t the same as saying they’d be together in the fall.
How could they be?
She lived in New York. He lived in California.
And, really, that was the least of it.
Her lieutenant wasn’t a forever kind of man. You didn’t need a degree in psychology to know that.
“Honey? You up for ice cream? Because there’s a place in town that dishes up the most incredible orange-ginger stuff—”
“Orange-ginger,” Bianca said brightly. “Don’t be silly. Everybody knows the only flavor that matters is vanilla.”
He laughed, as she’d hoped he would. He put some bills on the table, topped them with a water glass, got to his feet and held out his hand. She got up too, took his hand and as they walked to the Harley, she wondered what he was thinking…
Even as he wondered at that little slip he’d made, talking about the future, trying to figure out why he’d done it, why she hadn’t picked up on it—and whether the very thought of a future with the woman he loved, because he did love her, Jesus, he loved her with all he was or ever would be…
Chay dragged air into his lungs.
Mostly, as he sent the Harley roaring onto the road, he was wondering if loving her, planning a life together, had a survival chance better than that of a snowball in hell.
• • •
They ate ice cream. Picked up something for dinner. They passed a small clothing shop and Bianca said she wanted to go in buy and bras and panties. She had deliberately not taken any from her apartment.
“I am,” she said with determination, “tired of washing out my undies every night.”
Chay tugged her close and said he had a solution for that.
“Just don’t wear any,” he whispered in her ear. “No bras. No panties. And I’ll know you’re naked under whatever you have on. Naked, just for me.”
The suggestion made her blush. Not with embarrassment. With delight. It was a lovely idea and one she decided she’d work up the courage to try. For now, though, she went into the shop and bought undies, plus a couple of pairs of shorts, T-shirts, white canvas pants and an oversized linen cardigan.
All their conversation was light and easy. No talk of the future, and none of what had to happen next when Chay took the info they’d collected and put it to work. He’d said he could do a lot by phone, but Bianca had the feeling he’d probably have to do most of it on the ground, back east, and she just hoped he’d remember what she’d said, that she would go with him.
This was her problem, even though he’d taken it as his own.
Besides, what she’d left unspoken, yet come all too close to saying, was true.
She wanted to be wherever her lieutenant was.
He was her joy, her comfort, her lover. He was her love, even though he didn’t know it, and she was not about to lose a moment of precious time at his side.
• • •
The next day, they finally got down to work.
They settled in at the round redwood table on the deck with the final list of names they’d printed out yesterday.
They went over those names. Over them again and again, taking short breaks for coffee, for lunch, for a walk on the beach.
For an hour in each other’s arms.
A quick shower, and they returned to the list of names.
“None of these people leap out at you?” Chay said. “Something one of them said. Something one of them did. Something that seemed off.”
Bianca shook her head in frustration. “No.”
Chay huffed out a breath, opened the notepad in front of him and picked up a pencil.
“Okay. We’ll check out every one of these people. Deeper background checks. Interviews with their co-workers, friends, families.”
“How can you do that without making them suspicious?”
There were lots of ways. Some he’d talk about. Some he wouldn’t. But now wasn’t the time for that discussion.
“Ve haf vays,” he said with a leer, doing what he could to keep things light. “But for now, let’s try something else. Think about people you didn’t have listed in your computer. Consider anyone you might know, just casually, who raises an alarm bell. Even the faintest alarm bell. Remember what you said? That it might be anybody? A delivery guy who maybe seemed overly interested in you. A clerk at the supermarket. Somebody a little strange.”
Bianca plopped her elbows on the table and rubbed her hands over her face.
“Some people who are perfectly normal can come across as a little strange. I mean, we’re talking about Manhattan. Lots of people seem disassociated. Or withdrawn. Or just plain mean-tempered. Survival skills at work in a big urban environment.”
She was right. Chay knew it. But there had to be someone.
“Think, honey. Isn’t there anyone who stands out? Anyone you might have had a quick run-in with? Somebody who looked at you as if he wanted to do you harm?”
“It’s impossible,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “I mean, what about the guy who steps on your foot in the subway and glares at you as if it’s your fault? The woman who insists you tried to cut ahead of her at the supermarket checkout? Things like that happen all the time. People behaving strangely, I mean. Even at the little party
they threw for me when I joined East Side Associates…”
“What about it?”
“Nothing worth talking about.”
“Do me a favor and talk about it anyway.”
“But it’s silly. Honestly, it was nothing. Chayton, Don’t look at me that way…Oh, all right. The wife of one of the doctors sort of suggested she didn’t trust me.”
“How?”
“She warned me that her husband would come on to me and I should just ignore him.”
“Nice. What else?”
“One idiot told me that he and his wife had an arrangement—open marriage, he meant—and I ought to give him a call.”
“Bastard,” Chay muttered. “Anything more?”
“Well, the doctor I replaced got drunk and told me I wasn’t up to the job.”
Chay’s eyes narrowed. “Was his name one of the ones Sanchez would have downloaded?”
“Probably not, but—”
“I want his name. In fact, I want to know which doctor is married to the woman who warned you off, and which is married to the piece of shit who invited you to a threesome.”
“Chayton. He did not invite me to—”
“Is there more?”
She thought back to the party.
“No. Everyone else was very nice. There was one sad moment…”
“What was it?”
“Nothing to do with this. It was Marilyn Epstein’s son. A sweet, sad young man. A boy, really. Brilliant, but uncomfortable around people.”
Chay rolled his eyes. “Meaning, he was the only one who didn’t say anything unpleasant to you?”
Bianca laughed. “Talk about reducing things to their basics… Really, it was a lovely party.”
“Except for the assholes.” Chay put down the pencil, picked it up again and rolled it between his fingers. “How about the opposite? Somebody who struck you as extra-nice? You know. Somebody who seemed to take a special interest in you.”
“Nobody I can think of.”
‘What about that barista?”
“What barista?”
“The smooth dude at Cuppa Joe’s.”
Bianca frowned. “He’s just a nice guy.”
“He’s a nice guy who’d love to get into your pants.”
Her eyebrows shot skyward. Chay laughed, dropped the pencil, took her hand and kissed the knuckles.
“Sorry to be so blunt, sweetheart, but it’s true. The barista has a thing for you.”
“I don’t think he does—but even if you’re right, that doesn’t make him a suspect.”
Chay’s expression turned grim. “Everything the least bit different makes a suspect a suspect. You happen to know the guy’s name?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Chay reached for his phone, Googled the Cuppa Joe’s they’d been talking about, got its phone number and made the connection.
“Yeah,” he said pleasantly, when the call was picked up, “I hope you can help me. I’m looking for somebody, a friend of a friend who works at your shop. No. See, that’s the problem. I forgot his name, and I was supposed to give him a call, say hello… Yeah. A guy. Maybe six feet tall. Light brown hair. Dark brown eyes. He was working Friday evening and I tried to get over there, but I got hung up.” He gave a guy-to-guy chuckle. “My friend says he does well with the ladies, which is why I’m tryin’ to get in touch, seein’ as I’m new in town… Doug? Yup. That’s it. Doug…? Vitali. Of course. Doug Vitali. He’s not on until tomorrow?” Chay flashed Bianca a thumbs-up. “Too bad. I’ll just have to call back then. Yeah. Sure. And thanks, man. You’ve been a big help.”
Bianca shook her head. “Six feet tall. Light brown hair. Dark brown eyes. And you saw him for, what, all of sixty seconds?”
“What can I tell you? I’m an observant guy.” Chay laughed, leaned in and kissed her. “I really am observant. It’s part of my training—but the truth is, I knew our friend, the barista, was hoping to make a move on you. That’s why I took such a good look at him. Just in case I had to track him down and explain, again, that you weren’t available.”
“Explain again?”
Another quick, sweet kiss.
“That night. I thanked him for being ready to come to your aid… And I warned him, very politely, that you were already spoken for.”
A warm blush suffused her face. “Did you?” she said softly.
“I most certainly did.”
“Such arrogance, Lieutenant.”
“Not arrogance, Tigress. Determination.”
“Tigress.” She smiled. “You called me that before. Why am I a tigress?”
“Because you’re sleek. Beautiful. Smart. A wild creature that needs taming.” He reached out, threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair. “Taming by me,” he said quietly.
A tiny shiver of excitement swept through her.
“And have you tamed me?”
“No. But, hell, why would I want to? Why would any man want a kitten when he could have a tiger?”
• • •
They had dinner on the deck.
After, Bianca nestled in Chay’s lap while the scarlet sun slipped into the dark blue ocean.
“This has been nice,” he said softly.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But tomorrow…”
“I know.”
“I made some calls while you slept this afternoon.”
“I didn’t sleep.” She smiled. “Maybe just for a little while.”
He kissed her hair. “The thing is, I did what I could at a distance. Called in some favors. Got some more info.” He paused. “But I don’t have anything yet. So, tomorrow…”
“We’re going back. To New York.”
“I’m going back. You’re staying here. Dec will sack out on the sofa. Fortunately, our unit hasn’t been deployed yet and—”
“I’m going with you.”
“No. See, things might get, you know, dicey. And there’s no way I’d let you—”
Bianca turned in his lap and faced him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, there’s no way I’d let you—”
“Lieutenant. I make my own decisions.”
“Yeah.” His voice hardened. “Except when I make them for you.”
“Chayton. I am not a child. I am a grown woman.”
“You are my grown woman,” he growled. “And I intend to keep you safe.”
A short while ago, days ago, his possessive words would have made her furious. Now they made her heart sing—but they weren’t about to change her mind.
“You are not going without me, Chayton. I appreciate your concern, but—“
“I don’t want your appreciation, goddammit! I want you here, where I don’t have to worry about you.”
“Ha.”
“Ha?”
“Yes, ha! Is that what this is all about? Finding a way to keep you from worrying?”
“It’s about you. You and what I—what I feel…” Chay took a deep breath. Leaned his forehead against hers. “Bianca. I cannot let anything happen to you.”
She cupped his face with her hands. “Nothing will happen. When I’m with you, I’m safe.”
“When you are here, you are safe.”
“I won’t do anything other than what you tell me to do, Chayton. I promise. I’ll behave. I’ll follow orders. I’ll be good.”
“Hell,” he said, on a broken laugh, “I don’t want you to be too good, baby.”
She laughed too. Then he kissed her, led her back into the cottage, and they made love.
• • •
Chay called Declan.
He gave him the names of the barista and of the doctor Bianca had replaced, and asked him to take a look at the spouses of the two people Bianca had told hi
m about.
“And check out this kid…” Chay looked at Bianca. “What’s his first name?”
Bianca raised her eyebrows. “What’s whose first name?”
“The kid you mentioned. Dr. Epstein’s son. What’s his first name?”
“Really, Chayton…”
“Really, Bianca. What’s the boy’s name?”
Bianca sighed. “David. His name is David Epstein.”
“Dec?” Chay said. “Add one more name. David Epstein. The son of —Mary? Meryl?”
“Marilyn,” Bianca said, “and this is silly.”
“The son of Marilyn Epstein,” Chay told Declan. “He’s just a boy, but see what comes up.”
“Will do. Just give me a couple of hours.”
Chay ended the call. Bianca was glaring at him.
“It’s called due diligence, honey.”
“It’s called being ridiculous.”
“Will you look at that?” Chay said with delight. “My girl is pissed off.”
“I am not pissed off, and I am not your—” Her expression softened. “Is that what I am?”
“Damn right,” he said softly, and he took her in his arms.
• • •
At nine o’clock, they took the Harley to Dec’s place. He looked rumpled and weary, and Annie wasn’t with him.
“Problems?” Chay said softly.
Dec shrugged and said maybe.
“Hey, man, if there’s anything I can do…”
Dec laughed. “Yeah. You can figure out why the female of the species is so impossible. With all apologies to the lady present, of course.”
“No apologies needed,” Bianca said, smiling..
Dec reached for a couple of sheets of paper, and handed them to Chay. “Here’s what I found. It pretty much comes down to nothing. All the names came up clean, except for this guy. Douglas A-for-Anthony Vitali. Works at a coffee shop. Has a degree in electrical engineering. And he’s not really dirty. Just some interesting stuff about him.”
Chay took a fast look. The barista had a couple of old misdemeanor arrests for drugs. A breaking-and-entering charge during that same time frame, but the charge had been dismissed. He was in a drug treatment program and he’d kept out of trouble for the last two years, but you never knew.
Privilege: Special Tactical Units Division: Book Two Page 24