A Collateral Attraction: A Romantic Suspense Novel (Fire and Ice Book 1)

by Liz Durano

  "Or she could just ask me."

  Heath's eyes narrow. "And would you give her back her passport and ID, Billie? Knowing what you know, and the possibility that she's going to commit an act of fraud by withdrawing the money? Will you still do it and then walk away?"

  As if in answer to his question, my phone rings and I snatch it from my pocket, my heart beating hard against my chest, my pulse thundering between my temples for it's Blythe. I look up at Heath, panic written all over my face, but his expression has turned hard, far from the softness I had seen earlier.

  "You're either still in the game, Billie, or you're not," he says in a low voice. "Make your choice."

  "But if she's guilty-"

  "If she's guilty, she goes to jail, plain and simple," he says. "I can't stop the law, but I can delay the charges. It's not ethical nor legal, but sometimes, even those have to be put aside."

  The ringing stops, but then it rings again.

  "Why are you helping me, Heath, even if there’s a possibility that she’s guilty?”

  "Do you have to ask?" he asks softly and the memory of his kiss on the beach returns, the butterflies in my belly starting up again.

  I click Answer and turn away from Heath, my hands trembling. Whether Blythe is guilty or not, she’s still my twin sister, the Phoebe to my Hilairia. And I’ll buy her time, even if it ends up with a prison sentence, not just for her, but for both of us.

  "How dare you show up at the afternoon tea pretending to be me! Now everyone's thinking I'm cheating on Ethan, and with Heath, of all people."

  "People see only what they want to see, Blythe, and Ethan saw what he wanted. But why don’t we talk about what happened at the shop today? If all you wanted was your passport back so you can fly to Geneva and collect your four million, all you have to do is ask me to give it back to you.”

  She scoffs. "God, Bee, what is this about Geneva you keep harping about? I don’t even have these Swiss bank accounts you keep talking about! We’re flying there because Ethan and Richard have friends there. They all went to finishing school together, so there is no four million waiting for me, alright? And if Ethan ever gave me anything remotely close to four million, it would have been a loan.”

  “What for?”

  "You're not the only one who has dreams, Bee. I've got dreams, too, if anyone bothered to listen to me and see what I can do instead of being just some decoration on Ethan’s arm. And that money he loaned me came with stipulations, even interest. So this four million dollars you keep on screaming about is not true, alright? Not true at all, and I'm tired of you always saying it. Now can I just get my passport back?"

  "No," I say, and I hear her gasp. “And you know why? Because I don't care if you tell me you have no Swiss bank account that you know of, but I do. I’ve seen the records of the transfers from Kheiron Industries to an account bearing your name. Your name. And with this embezzlement about to be announced to Board of Directors, who’s to say that your time isn’t running out, and you’ve got to get those funds before the bank freezes them?”

  "If it is my name, then why hasn't Ethan told me?"

  "Because he doesn't know," I say through gritted teeth. I don't understand why she refuses to see it. “And do you know who else knows about it? Harris, Heath, and Tyler. And they’re all just waiting for you to show up in Geneva and...I don't know, withdraw the money and buy whatever you want with it. Shoes maybe? But you showing up to withdraw money embezzled during a course of eight months is all they need to put you away."

  There's silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. "I've only been seeing Ethan for six months, Bee," she says in a whisper. "You said it's been going on for eight months, so how can you assume it's me?"

  "I'm not! They are! And I've only been trying to tell you this from the beginning. Now you could be flying to Geneva and getting married there for all I know, but it doesn't change the fact that your name is on Swiss accounts bearing four million dollars of swindled funds; I saw the paperwork, Bee. They're yours. And not only that but everything you've had access so far—the penthouse, that gold card you keep flashing around that’s drawing funds from the company and not from Ethan’s personal account—that’s all been revoked.”

  “But that’s impossible. That card is his, from his account, not the company.”

  I exhale. Maybe I am getting somewhere with her. “Maybe it's oversight, but as far as the board sees it, it's embezzlement, the improper use of company funds to finance expenses that have nothing to do with the company."

  There's silence on her end of the line again, and I wonder if she hung up on me. I pull the phone away from my ear to check the display, but I see that she's still on the line. When I return the phone to my ear, I hear the sound of water running, and her saying, I'll be right out, darling.

  "You're asking me to believe a lot, Bee,” she says,

  "I didn't travel halfway around the world to say hello, Blythe. I’ve seen the documents-"

  "Documents that Heath showed you," she snaps. "Heath Kheiron, who I'm sure, told you that whatever is in the letters Ethan got from their mother are not true.”

  “He told me they are. His father isn't Edgar. He’s a bastard, but he’s known that fact since he was a kid.”

  "Oh," Blythe says, pausing. "So you're asking me to take your word—no, Heath's word—over Ethan's? The same man who took away his position from the family company?”

  “Correction, Blythe. The board took Ethan's job away from him, not Heath. But, yes, I'm asking you to take Heath's word and mine over Ethan’s and everyone else on his team, Jackson, Charlene and Richard, until I get both of us out of here."

  "And where the hell do you think you're going to take me?"

  "Home. And when all the dust settles, and you’re proven to be innocent, or whatever happens, Ethan can come back for you.”

  There’s a lengthy silence between us before Blythe finally starts talking.

  "My passport, Bee. I want it."

  I sigh and shake my head. It was useless, but at least I tried. But at the same time, I’m not just going to hand over her passport either. "If you want your passport that bad, then I want something for it.”

  "Oh, please," she groans. "What the hell do you want now?"

  "I want the letters that Ethan stole from his mother. “Every single one of them. We can do the exchange tomorrow evening, just you and me.”

  "That's ridiculous!”

  "The letters, Blythe, or you don't get your passport and driver's license back. You can apply for your passport in San Francisco. Get Ethan and company to pull as many strings as they can to expedite it for all I care, but you're not getting your documents back that easily.”

  "You're a bitch," Blythe says coldly.

  “What can I say, Blythe? I learned from the best."

  19

  A Woman Who Knows

  When Heath knocks on my door, I've collected myself and greet him with a weak smile.

  "What did she say?"

  “She wants her passport."

  "Are you going to give it to her?"

  "Not yet," I reply. "She'll call me when she gets me something I want."

  Heath's eyes narrow. "What is it that you want in return?”

  I shrug. "Just something that will get her thinking about how serious I am.”

  "But you won't tell me what it is,” Heath says slowly. “I thought we’re in this together, Billie.”

  "It's just something between sisters; that's all."

  “Billie-“

  “Will you trust me on this?” I ask though I don’t wait for him to answer me. “Anyway, I don't know if you've got other plans for the night, but I'm going to take a shower and just stay in.”

  I zip open one my suitcases, looking for something to wear to bed and grimacing when I end up only pulling out a lacy negligee. Didn’t Alicia pack me some oversized t-shirts?

  “There’s a charity ball tonight-“ he says as I turn around to face him.

>   “By all means, go, Heath. I'll be okay by myself here.”

  “I wasn’t planning on going,” Heath murmurs, raising an eyebrow when he sees what I’m holding in my hand.

  "Oh," I mumble, my cheeks burning as I bundle the negligee and my toiletry bag under my arm and head to the bathroom. “Well, I'm going to hit the shower.”

  By the time I finish my toilette half an hour later, I'm not in a much better mood, though it has nothing to do with Blythe. I've been flirting with a handsome man for the last 48 hours, and all I've gotten is a kiss that should have gone longer if not for one phone call after another. I hate that I feel like a kid denied her treat, but I can't help it. Being around Heath is driving me crazy, and I wonder if it’s because I haven’t been with a man in such close proximity for such a long time, or whether there really is something going on between us.

  But then I remind myself that this is all a charade, and when the tournament is over, I get to return to the life I’ve always known. Still, I wonder why the butterflies in my belly are fluttering in full force, and even my knees are shaking.

  It’s a charade, Billie. Don’t forget that.

  Heath is settled in one of the armchairs when I emerge from the bathroom, my negligee hidden beneath the hotel bathrobe and my damp hair wrapped in a towel.

  "All yours," I say as he folds the paper, sets it aside and gets up. He’s gorgeous, his windblown hair sticking up in places even when he runs his fingers through them, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to run my hands along his body, feel his weight over me-

  “Excuse me, Billie,” he murmurs as he brushes past me for I’m standing by the door, like a deer in the headlights. I’ve probably been staring a little too long, and I feel myself blushing as I move away.

  “Sorry.”

  “We’ve had a long day,” he says, before shutting the door behind him. Minutes later, I hear the shower running, and I head to the bedroom to dry my hair and pretend to be busy.

  Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?

  A part of me wants to live as vicariously as my sister does, maybe even slip back into the bathroom and join Heath in the shower. I want to sleep in the same bed with him and not have to set up the sofa bed and pretend I don't want him. But being Billie, the rational part of me overrules my thoughts, and I'm back to being boring Billie again.

  Half an hour later, I’ve pulled out the sofa bed and set the pillows and the spare blankets on top when Heath emerges from the bathroom wearing only a towel around his waist. I’m still wearing my robe over my negligee, the one that Alicia probably chose for a specific reason and because of that, I’m not keen on walking around the suite like I’m some Hollywood superstar.

  “You didn’t have to set up the sofa bed,” he says. “I would have done that myself.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I just needed to be busy.”

  “You’re still wearing your bathrobe. Are you cold?” Heath asks. “Would you like to light the fireplace?”

  “No, no I’m fine,” I say as he walks towards me. His hair is slicked back, still damp from his shower. I take a step back, my nostrils flaring at the manly scent of his cologne. I’m glad he didn’t shave for I love the way he looks with his stubble.

  “I’ve decided to take the sofa bed so you can have the bed-“

  “You’re doing no such thing,” Heath says, pulling me back to the bedroom. “You take the bed, and I’ll take the sofa.”

  I don’t know why I’m so nervous all of a sudden as if the touch of his hand is enough to set my nerves on fire. Not only that, but it’s as if my mouth goes on auto-pilot and I start to ramble.

  "I...I just wanted to say thank you for this afternoon, for taking me to the beach so we could go horseback riding. It was the most fun I’ve ever had in a very long time.”

  “You’re welcome, Billie,” he murmurs, and I can feel my face burning, the blush beginning from my face all the way down to my chest.

  "And thank you for that dinner on the beach-”

  “That was Lorna’s doing, and as far as I know, you already thanked her.”

  “I know, but it was sweet of them to let us visit at such short notice.” I continue to babble, the words spilling out of my mouth as Heath studies my face, though my gaze drifts lower as I ramble, down to his bare chest, tanned and muscled, and glistening with water from his shower. He smells of sandalwood, vetiver, and tonka bean, and I tell myself that if it weren’t for the individual essential oils I carry in my shop, I wouldn’t be able to discern each note. But I do, and the blend is so masculine and erotic, neural messages from my brain traveling down the base of my belly, making my stomach knot in anticipation.

  But anticipation for what?

  When Heath brings his hand behind my head and pulls me to him, crushing his mouth against mine, I find the answer to my question. It’s anticipation for this moment when words are no longer needed.

  We’ve been talking too much ever since we first laid eyes on each other. The emotions from our first meeting have somehow transformed themselves into something else, something beautiful even for just this night, and it makes me feel weak in the knees. His kiss has the power to undo me, his hand slipping inside my robe and palming my breast makes me tremble.

  Heath moves the bathrobe over my shoulders. As it falls to the floor, he pulls away, his gaze moving from my face down to the deep V of my negligee. Neither one of us says a word. I love the way he’s looking at me, admiring me in my silk nightgown that feels like a caress all over my body. But there’s another touch I want to experience, and when his fingers trace the slope of my shoulder down the curve of my breast, I close my eyes and sigh. I gasp when his thumb and index finger brush against my nipple, straining through the silk lace.

  When his erection presses against my belly, I open my eyes to see him watching me. There’s hunger in his eyes that match my own, and I move my hand lower to pull the towel off him.

  “Do you want this, Billie?”

  I nod, too afraid to say anything else because if I did, I’d probably say that maybe we should rethink this, that we just met and these things just don’t happen, at least to me. I would have said all those things in one breath, but I don’t. Instead, I let Heath kiss me again, his tongue slipping between my teeth, brushing deliciously along the insides of my mouth. My hands move down to his hips, loving the feel of his warm skin against my fingers, the muscles that tighten to my touch.

  When his mouth moves lower, blazing a trail of kisses down my neck, I silence the protests inside my head and surrender to him. I want him, even if it’s just for tonight.

  "All you have to say is no."

  “No!”

  He draws away, frowning. “No?”

  “No! I mean, no, I don’t want to say no!” I stammer, though I find myself giggling, too. “I’ll just shut up.”

  He chuckles, his dimples making their appearance for the first time since we got back to the hotel and this time, I mean business. I pull him to me and kiss him hungrily, the need to have him make love to me taking over.

  I'm not saying anything now, at least, nothing that resembles words. As Heath carries me to the bedroom and lays me down upon the down-filled covers, I know none of us will be sleeping on the sofa bed, not when I know I’m where I’m supposed to be. I close my eyes as he kisses me again, gasping as he tortures me with me with his mouth and his tongue kissing and sucking from neck down to my breasts, first sucking my nipples through the silk fabric before pushing the garment off my shoulders and teasing each breast with his hands and his mouth, his tongue making lazy circles along each nipple.

  When I feel him moving down my belly and lower still, between my legs, I let go completely. Heath parts my legs gently, planting gentle kisses along the insides of my thighs. No one has ever kissed me there, but I’m not about to stop Heath, not when whatever mental protests I would have come up with are immediately silenced with his first kiss and then his second. Soon, I feel my body shudder through a mind-num
bing release that has me crying out his name as his hands hold my hips down on the bed, his mouth and his tongue weaving their magic.

  “I want you,” I whisper just before he kisses me again, allowing me to taste myself on his lips and tongue. Heath reaches for a packet from his wallet on the bedside table, and I watch him as he tears the condom wrapper with his teeth and slips it on. I sit up and pull him down on top of me, not caring that all my reservations are gone.

  As Heath enters me, I lose sight of the woman I've tried so hard to be, the one who always pushed everything fun and exciting out the window. In her place is a woman who’s wanted to be free for so long, someone much more comfortable in her skin. It doesn’t even matter if it’s just for one night, or that she’s got more to lose, like her heart, by jumping into bed with a complicated man like Heath Kheiron—but she goes ahead anyway.

  20

  Blythe + Billie

  It's almost noon when I wake up. As I lift my head to turn to Heath's side of the bed, there's a single red rose on his pillow, with a note telling me that he is at a meeting at Tyler's house and that he'll be back at one.

  My body is sore all over. Sated, but sore. The memories of the last few hours return to me, and my cheeks redden.

  How I loved the feel of his body against mine, how it felt like my body was just meant for him. I loved the taste of him, the way he felt inside me as he moved to a rhythm so natural, so perfectly in sync with mine. I loved how he watched me shatter with each release that claimed me and the way he groaned my name when he came. Most of all, I loved the way he held me through the night, his breathing warm against my shoulder as we lay spooned together. I loved everything I wasn't supposed to, not when all this was never meant to happen.

  I had come all the way here for my sister. Since when did it become about me?