Torrid Love - Caught!

by Lorie O'Clare

  “And that is how you knew it was someone in Auburn, Nebraska?” Roxanne stared at the information printed on the sheet.

  “Yes, and while I drove up there, he kept researching the matter and informed me that the computer used was one at their public library. I managed to reach Auburn before the library closed, but apparently I wasn’t the only one tracking the transaction.” Aaron paused, and Roxanne watched him as he looked around the quiet eating establishment.

  A radio playing some modern rock station could be heard from the room behind the counter, and a teenage boy sat at a far table refilling salt and pepper shakers, otherwise the two of them were alone.

  “And that is when you were arrested?” Roxanne prompted, and Aaron turned his attention to her.

  “Yes,” he said, and then looked down at his hands.

  She imagined how humiliating that moment had to be for the young man, fresh out of the service, with a budding career ahead of him.

  “I hate to see you leave over all of this,” Roxanne reached out and patted Aaron’s hand. “You’re an outstanding accountant. This is Hall Enterprises’ loss.”

  “That’s exactly what Jordan Hall said.” Aaron pulled his hand out from under hers, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I have an interview with a company out in Montana.”

  “We’re going to miss you. Why Montana?”

  He smiled for the first time since she had arrived. “Mr. Hall told me of a business acquaintance of his out in Montana who could use a good broker. So he is helping me find new work.

  “But Roxanne,” Aaron continued, “there’s more that I need to tell you.”

  “Yes,” Roxanne agreed. “We still have a criminal at large, and he is going to suck Hall Enterprises dry if we don’t try and stop him.”

  Aaron leaned back on his side of the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you hear what you just said?”

  Roxanne frowned. What had she just said? She repeated her words in her head, and then looked at him, confused.

  “It’s okay. I made the same assumption.” Aaron smiled as if he were trying to help her figure out a puzzle.

  She wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “What are you talking about?”

  “The one comment I heard the librarian say that stuck in my mind, was that I was the only man who had been in the library that entire afternoon.”

  Roxanne didn’t understand. “I know it’s a small town, but you were the only man?”

  “Yes.” Aaron nodded, as if she were supposed to understand something at this point.

  “I still don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me,” Roxanne said.

  “We know the computer at that library was used to make the illegal transactions from the Hall Enterprises accounts. But the librarian said no men were there.”

  “So the thief is a woman?” Roxanne concluded with her question.

  Aaron nodded. “Must be,” he said.

  She didn’t know why she had concluded their thief would have been a man. And as small of a clue as it was, they had more information now then they had before.

  “You know with a few casual questions,” Roxanne began, thinking out loud, “we might be able to gather more information about this woman.”

  “You mean question the librarian?” Aaron asked.

  “Sure.” Roxanne straightened on her side of the booth. “I bet we could determine an age, and maybe even a description if we ask the right questions,” she added, her mind already churning with how she would go about doing this.

  “You’re right, but who is going to approach this librarian?” Aaron asked.

  Roxanne stared at him as she popped the last bit of the cookie into her mouth.

  “What I mean is that my wife will divorce me if I go back up there again,” Aaron explained.

  Roxanne grinned. “Well, we can’t have that. I’ll go back up there myself and see what I can find out.”

  “I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” Aaron said.

  “Why not?” Roxanne asked.

  “I think they still believe you might be that woman.”

  * * * * *

  Jordan sat behind his desk, still at work, later that evening, and listened as Layette and Dixon brainstormed over their latest facts. The dull throb of a headache had escalated into a long stretch of pain ranging from the middle of his forehead clear to the center of his brain. Jordan hadn’t been home yet since returning to town, and he wasn’t sure that sitting there much longer would accomplish anything more.

  The printouts strewn across the desk in front of him made him so angry he felt a need to throw something. Over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars had been taken from random accounts in small increments. Jordan lifted one of the printouts to compare the dates to several of the transactions below. If he ever got his hands on the person who apparently was out to ruin him and Hall Enterprises, that person would not live to see the next day.

  Jordan had worked very hard over the past decade to build a solid reputation and one of the most successful businesses in the country. He had respect among his peers, and had begun receiving national attention. At his age, not many men could make that claim. And he would be damned if some thief would take him down.

  “Jordan?” Layette asked in a tone that made Jordan realize it probably wasn’t the first time the man had tried to get his attention.

  Jordan scrambled in his thoughts to remember what the two men had been discussing.

  “Tipley is satisfied with the arrangement you’ve made for him,” Dixon prompted.

  Jordan noticed the man looked as tired as Jordan felt. “Yes, and I’ve made arrangements for him to have an interview at the beginning of next month. His wife is ready to have their first child, so in the meantime, I’ve granted him paternity leave.”

  “With pay?” Layette asked.

  “Hell yes, with pay,” Jordan grumbled, and frowned at the older man. “I’ve set Aaron Tipley up with a deal any man would jump at. I doubt he will be giving us any grief.”

  “Damn good thing,” Layette mumbled, and stared down at an unlit cigar he held between his finger and thumb.

  “I made it clear from the beginning that none of my employees would steal from me. I don’t have that type of crew here.” Jordan stood and looked out at the dark city through his window. “You sent me on a wild goose chase today and wasted my time. That won’t happen again. I’ll wish you two good night, and don’t expect to hear from either of you again until you have something substantial to show me.”

  Jordan waited until the two men had left, and then walked into the outer office. He secured the alarm, and made a mental note that he would have to change the combination code on the alarm system. His thoughts strayed to Roxanne, and he wondered where she was right now. Both Layette and Dixon had commented on her absence from the office that day, and although Dorothy had confirmed that Roxanne had taken the day off, Jordan couldn’t help but agree that it would have helped in her plea for innocence if she had made an appearance at work.

  Jordan waited until he was on the road, and then picked up his cell phone and called Roxanne. She answered on the second ring. Well, at least she acknowledged his phone calls.

  “Where are you?” she asked, instead of saying hello.

  Jordan felt his insides tighten at the sound of her voice. She didn’t sound like she was in a very good mood, but he had no doubts he could handle her.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” he said.

  “I’m standing behind my car, which is parked in your driveway. Now would you mind telling me where you are?”

  Jordan had no idea why she would be at his house but he had every intention of finding out. “I’ll be there within five minutes.”

  She hung up the phone at her end and Jordan accelerated underneath the Interstate sign that told him he had a mile and a half until his exit.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Roxanne paced up and down the stone path that wound its way to
ward the very large estate in front of her. She stared at the varying shapes of rock that made up the path, and the perfectly manicured grass on either side. Hedges trimmed to perfection lined the brick wall that closed in the courtyard and prevented her from reaching the front door of the home. She had tried pushing the button on the intercom system built into the wall next to the black-iron gate that closed her out, but no one had answered.

  Roxanne knew a small amount of history on Jordan Hall. She knew his father had worked hard to make a name for himself in the city, and had died of a heart attack while Jordan was in college. She didn’t know a thing about Jordan’s mother, other than the fact that Jordan had never mentioned her. Roxanne did know that everything she saw around her, Jordan had worked hard to obtain. The man hadn’t been left a fortune by his father—Jordan had worked hard to get where he was, and this fine home showed how successful he had become.

  Whoever was stealing from Hall Enterprises could ruin Jordan if they weren’t stopped. Roxanne knew that to be the unspoken truth of the matter, and that with every day, Jordan faced the possibility of scandal that could mar his reputation beyond repair. They had clues though, and after an afternoon of aggravation over the thought that she was a prime suspect, Roxanne had decided that the best thing to do was to confront Jordan and share with him what she knew. Regardless of how he treated her personally, they had a business alliance, and as an employee of Hall Enterprises, Roxanne would show her loyalty.

  She turned as headlights turned onto the quiet street. As the car turned into the driveway and Roxanne heard the sound of the garage door open, her heart began pounding and her palms grew damp.

  “You can handle this man,” she whispered to herself, and held her head high as she walked toward the car that parked in the dark garage.

  Roxanne walked into the garage without hesitating and stood with her arms crossed as the garage door slid down, preventing her departure. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she watched as Jordan opened his car door and stood with briefcase in hand, to stare down at her. He still wore the clothes he’d had on in Nebraska and Roxanne wondered if he’d dressed that way all day at the office. Knowing how often he worked late, she didn’t find it surprising that he would be just now coming home, especially considering the serious issues that needed to be resolved.

  Jordan closed his car door, but didn’t move from where he stood in front of her. Roxanne clenched her hands to her waist, keeping her arms crossed, as if that small barrier would prevent her from feeling the sensations that rippled through her at Jordan’s nearness. His broad chest was a mere foot in front of her, and she could smell his cologne, as well as the manly scent that seemed to intoxicate her whenever she was this close to him. Everything she had come here to talk to him about, the crisis that lay pending if they didn’t resolve it soon, all of the matters at hand seemed to dissipate in a fog of uncontrollable desire that racked her senses.

  Roxanne raised her head to look into his eyes, and his dark gaze met hers in a silent greeting. She knew he felt the same desire for her that she felt for him. And what terrified her was the knowledge that he knew how he could control her. Focusing on her breathing, she worked to regain control of her senses, and pulled her gaze from his as she turned her focus on the door leading to the kitchen.

  “If you have a minute I’d like to speak with you,” she said, turning to show him that she wasn’t impressed by how sexy he looked at the moment.

  The expression that crossed his face told her that she had failed. “We’ll have more than a minute of time,” he told her, and turned to lead the way into his house.

  Roxanne didn’t follow Jordan as he led her into the main portion of his home, and then began ascending a very wide staircase. She assumed he would change and then join her. Jordan didn’t say a word when she chose not to follow him, and she chanced a glance as he disappeared at the top of the stairs. He had left her to browse through his home so Roxanne decided to do just that.

  She stood in the living room, which appeared to be about the size of her house. Elegant furniture that could have been right out of a showroom, and without a trace of dust on it, had been arranged throughout the room. Roxanne felt like she walked through a model mansion, as if this one was just a sample of how a person could live if they made the big time. She left the living room, deciding it said nothing about Jordan, and sauntered down a hallway toward the next room. All walls in this room had heavy wooden shelves lining them, and every shelf was full of thick hardback books. The smell of the heavy bound books filled her nostrils as she faced one of the shelves and surveyed its contents.

  She ran her finger idly over the leather bound backs of a row of books, and recognized names of classic literature, as well as poetry, and texts on government and law, finance and advertising. The books appeared to be a general assortment that could appeal to anyone, but she wondered if Jordan had read any of them or if they simply had been shelved for appearance.

  She left the books, and ran her fingers over the ivory keys of a beautiful grand piano, and then studied the exquisite carvings in the wood surrounding a large fireplace, before settling her gaze on large glass doors that led to a patio along the back side of the house. Roxanne walked to the doors, feeling the thickness of the carpet through her sandals, and then flicked the lock so she could open them. A beep told her that an alarm system had acknowledged the doors being opened, and Roxanne wondered if that beep would bring Jordan running. It dawned on her that the idea appealed to her, and she stepped out onto the long wooden deck that could easily hold a party of fifty people or more.

  She left the glass doors open and crossed over the wooden floor toward the latticed fence that bordered the deck, and gazed at the extensive flower garden that spread for some distance before a thick row of trees began, which possibly bordered the property.

  A fresh, wood scent filled her nostrils as she crossed the deck. The smell of the garden perfumed the air, a mixture of aromas from the roses that bordered the deck, to a variety of flowers she couldn’t identify in the dark.

  She could smell pine through the slight breeze, and recognized the shape of the trees at the edge of the large yard. The night air was cool against her skin and she wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the railing and stared across the picture-perfect landscape.

  Footsteps creaked on the deck behind her and Roxanne turned to see Jordan, matching her attire in blue jeans. A black T-shirt hugged his torso, and he’d tucked the shirt into his jeans, allowing her to see ripples of muscles and a flat, well-toned stomach that she already knew was covered with downy black hair. The floodlights attached to the side of the house shadowed his expression and made his black hair shine like raw silk.

  “You’re drooling,” Jordan drawled as he walked over to where she stood. The smell of soap clung to him as he came to stand next to her.

  “I am not!” Roxanne turned to stare across the yard again, feeling as if she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “We need to talk,” she said, and they needed to keep the conversation on a professional level. “My hands are tied in trying to assist in finding this thief and I don’t like it.”

  Jordan rested his hip against the railing so that he faced her, and Roxanne did her best not to look in his direction. She saw his hand rise toward her face, and quickly walked away from him along the edge of the railing.

  Already just being in his presence had her aching to be with him. But that wouldn’t solve any of their problems. Not to mention she’d already broken it off with him. Although apparently he seemed to think them a couple now—as memories of him telling the detective they were in a relationship echoed through her.

  Damn it. She needed to keep her thoughts focused.

  “I’ve never been accused of committing any crime before,” she continued. “And if it weren’t for that investigator of yours implying my guilt, I could possibly have found more information out about our thief.”

  “What information do you t
hink you could gather?” Jordan asked.

  He needed to keep his distance, but he ached to fuck her until she screamed, and then discuss these matters. It had been one hell of a long day already, and more than anything he’d like a few hours alone with Roxanne, upstairs, in his bed. Watching her now, dressed so casually in her faded jeans and T-shirt, she still stirred him to life more than any woman ever had before.

  The floodlight on the porch captured auburn highlights in her hair, which fell past her shoulders. Her T-shirt hugged her torso, showing off her narrow waist the way she had it tucked into her jeans. And that ass, her sweet ass, curved so perfectly. Her jeans hugged her just right, accentuating the way her thighs met her rear end. He focused on that spot just at the end of her ass that he would love to run his tongue along, make her entire body quiver.

  Roxanne turned to face him but hadn’t realized he’d moved closer to her. Her nose just about brushed his chest and she stepped backward, almost tripping over a deck chair she hadn’t noticed.

  “I wanted to talk to the librarian,” she said, as she sidestepped the chair. “Aaron told me that she mentioned he’d been the only man in there that day.”

  Jordan reached for her arm as she stumbled around the chair, and his long fingers scraped against her skin. Just touching her hardened every inch of him.

  She slipped away from the touch, and again walked along the railing. He felt the odd sensation that a game of cat and mouse was underway.

  “And when did you talk to Aaron?” Jordan followed her along the side of the deck, knowing now what she’d done all day.

  ‘Today. He invited me to lunch to explain everything that happened to him.” Roxanne decided moving around the deck did nothing to keep him from her side. She planted her feet, staring out into his backyard. “And if your investigator had been a bit more thorough, you would have known your thief was a woman and Aaron never would have gone to jail.”