by Radclyffe
“What kind of an office?”
“Law.” Carter forced herself to focus.
“Oh, I remember now,” Rica said. “You’re an attorney.”
“That’s right.”
“And what is a high-powered Boston attorney doing in a quiet little place like this?”
Carter laughed. “And what is a high-powered New York City art gallery owner doing in a quiet little place like this?”
Rica smiled. “I asked you first.”
Carter had never seen a spontaneous smile from her before, and it nearly stopped her heart. It had always been obvious that Rica was a classically beautiful woman, but she’d never appreciated the sensuous fullness of her mouth or the deep allure of her dark eyes before this moment.
“Are you going to answer the question?”
Carter gave a start and shook her head. “Sorry. Late night. I bought the building some months ago, thinking I’d spend part of the summer over here. I’m just now getting everything set up.”
“Somehow you don’t seem the type to summer in this kind of place.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Come now,” Rica said scornfully. “A woman who spends her time with powerful men, dealing with them on their terms, and winning, I’d wager.” She lifted her hands as if to say that was answer enough.
“What you see isn’t always the whole story,” Carter said, skirting dangerously close to the truth. For some reason, she didn’t want Rica to casually dismiss her as just another player in an unsavory game. Even though that’s exactly who she needed Rica to believe her to be.
Rica stared, momentarily unnerved by the echo of her father’s words of the night before. She couldn’t help but think that they were having an entirely different conversation than the one their words would suggest, but she couldn’t quite understand it. She also couldn’t explain to herself why she didn’t want Carter Wayne to be who she knew her to be. Another handsome, charming liar. She stood abruptly.
“I’m sorry. I have a great deal of work to do.”
Carter rose as well and collected the trash, rolling up the bag and holding it in her fist. “I imagine you do. You have some beautiful pieces on display already.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like to join me for dinner this evening?”
“You have quite a different approach than Johnny T., too,” Rica said, turning to walk back inside.
Carter followed. “I thought we already got that settled?”
“No,” Rica said, sitting down behind her desk. “You only said you weren’t sent here by my father. I didn’t say I believed you.”
“Come to dinner, then, and let me convince you.”
Smiling despite herself, Rica shook her head once more.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have time for games. I came here to start a business, and that’s about all that I have time for.” She lifted a thick sheaf of papers. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
Without another word, Carter turned and left the gallery. She’d been dismissed, and she sensed that any further attempt on her part to prolong the meeting would only alienate Rica completely. Not only was it necessary to the investigation for her to foster her association with Rica, but an amicable relationship was something she very much wanted. If for no other reason than to see Rica Grechi smile that astonishingly beautiful smile again.
Chapter Seven
Bri Parker leaned across her girlfriend’s naked body and grabbed the portable phone. Caroline gave a mild mewl of protest and burrowed more deeply into Bri’s side, wrapping an arm and leg securely around Bri’s body.
“’Lo,” Bri croaked. She curved an arm beneath Caroline’s shoulder and stroked her back, squinting against the sunlight that streaked through the skylight above their heads. The sliding glass doors at the far end of the second-floor loft apartment were open, and the morning sounds and scent of the sea wafted in. It was just about a year since she’d decided to leave college and return to her hometown to follow in her father’s footsteps in the sheriff’s department. And not just her father’s footsteps, but Reese Conlon’s. She’d known Reese since she was seventeen. In those nearly four years, Reese had become her mentor, her role model, her friend. Reese was everything she’d ever wanted to be. Bri tightened her hold on her girlfriend as she listened to the request.
“Oh, man. This morning? I worked the late shift.”
“What?” Caroline mumbled. “Tell them no.”
Bri laughed. “No, sir. I didn’t say a word. I’ll be there in under an hour. Yes, sir.” She dropped the phone onto the floor beside the bed. “I gotta go in, babe.”
Caroline groaned and scooted on top of Bri. She propped her head in her hand and regarded Bri with a combination of annoyance and invitation. “I’ve only been back in town a week, and I don’t think we’ve had a chance to get properly reacquainted.” To emphasize her point, she insinuated her thigh between Bri’s and pushed down against her crotch. Then she rolled her hips and made a low humming sound of pleasure.
“Oh, hey, babe,” Bri protested weakly. “You know I don’t want to.” She arched her back as Caroline hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I mean, I want to. With you. Work. I was talking about work. Oh, Jesus, Carre. Mercy.”
“You know, all the time I was in Paris,” Caroline said, leaning down to kiss Bri, “I was sort of afraid you would fall out of love with me or not want me so much anymore when I came back. Eight months is a long time.”
“Tell me about it,” Bri murmured, catching Caroline’s small, firm breasts in her hands as they swayed above her and fanning her fingers over the smooth flesh. When Caroline’s nipples knotted against her palms, her clit tightened and she got wet. “I thought I was going to explode a million times before you got back.” She squeezed and flicked Caroline’s nipples with her thumbnails, making Caroline whimper. “I want you more than I ever did, not less.”
“Oh that’s good,” Caroline said, breathless. “That you do. What you’re doing. Don’t stop, baby.”
Bri replaced her fingers with her mouth and sucked on Caroline’s breasts, hard enough to make Caroline writhe and dig her fingers into Bri’s shoulders.
“Work or not, you’re gonna have to make me come,” Caroline warned, her eyes partway closed, her stomach quivering. “You’re getting me too excited not to.”
Wordlessly, Bri pumped her hips and flipped Caroline onto her back, following her over to resume her attentions to Caroline’s nipples. Even as she bit and sucked them, she slid her hand up the inside of Caroline’s thigh. When she cupped Caroline’s sex, Caroline covered her hand and pushed her fingers inside.
“Just fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
Bri groaned and closed her eyes tightly, locking out everything except the sensation of Caroline, inside and out. The heat of her skin, the pounding of her heart, the small cries of pleasure, the slick grip of muscles closing around her fingers. They fit together perfectly, heart to heart, body to body. They always had, since they were kids. Bri knew her—what made her cry, what made her happy, what made her come—and every time they were together like this it was as if she’d never experienced her before. She took her hard, the way Caroline wanted, the way she liked it, and felt Caroline’s orgasm flood her hand.
“Oh yeah,” Bri whispered. “Just like that, babe.”
Caroline twisted her fingers into Bri’s short black hair and pulled her head up so she could bite down on Bri’s neck as she climaxed, her whole body stiffening with one electrifying jolt after another. She moaned and shivered and finally laughed.
“I don’t know how you always make me do that so fast,” Caroline gasped.
“’Cause,” Bri said with a grin, brushing her thumb over Caroline’s clitoris and making her twitch, “I’m the world’s best lover.”
“Mmm, yeah, true,” Caroline said lazily, smoothing her fingers over the mark she’d left on Bri’s neck, then gently tracing the scar next to it. “Lucky
me.”
Bri relaxed against Caroline’s body, enjoying the way Caroline’s face always got all soft and dreamy right after she came. She loved being able to do that. Knowing that she was the cause of that look. That happiness. “Lucky me too.” She sighed. “I gotta go to work, babe.”
Caroline blinked to clear the fog of pleasure from her brain. “You really do?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then we’d better hurry if we’re going to take care of you,” Caroline said, scraping her nails down the center of Bri’s back until she reached her butt. She squeezed Bri’s ass, planted her foot on the bed, and wedged her knee between Bri’s legs. “You ready to go for a ride?”
Bri sucked in her breath, clenched her jaws, and eased her hips away from Caroline’s leg. “I can’t. I really really gotta get a shower and go.”
“Oh, hey,” Caroline crooned, feathering Bri’s hair with her fingers. “You gonna be okay?”
Shaking her head, Bri rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed. “No. I’m going to walk around with a stiffie all day.” She looked over her shoulder at Caroline and grinned. “But I’m gonna like thinking about you taking care of it later.”
“You do that.” Caroline stroked Bri’s thigh. “Because I’m going to, the minute you walk in the door.”
As Bri searched through the closet for a clean shirt and uniform trousers, Caroline asked from the bed, “How come you got called in?”
“They need me to take Reese’s shift.”
“Reese? Why?” Caroline threw the covers aside and got up. She pulled on sweats and a T-shirt of Bri’s from a nearby chair. “Reese is never sick. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Bri pushed down the quick surge of anxiety. “My dad just said for me to come in.”
“Call me, okay? Something’s not right.”
“Yeah,” Bri muttered. “I know.”
*
Reese tucked her wallet into the back pocket of her jeans, slid her badge into the front, and clipped her holster to her waistband. Then she turned to face Tory, who sat at the breakfast bar in loose cotton pants and an old, stretched-out sweater that dipped low in the front and made her look impossibly sexy. “I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”
“I’ll go by the clinic and talk to Randy about rearranging my schedule,” Tory said. “I should be back here in an hour, and then we can pick up Reggie from Kate and Jean’s.”
“I wish you didn’t need to cancel patients,” Reese said. She crossed the room, put her arms around Tory, and kissed her softly. “I can pick up the baby myself, and you can work for a few hours.”
Tory shook her head. “I never take a day off. We rarely leave town for more than a week on vacation, and”—she laughed unsteadily—“I’d say this is an emergency.”
“Tor,” Reese whispered, pulling her close and rocking her. “I hate for you to be hurting.”
“I’m all right. I just don’t want to waste any of today. Go talk to Nelson, and then come home.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Tory kissed her and gave her a gentle shove. “Go ahead now. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Reese stepped away but waited to leave until Tory disappeared upstairs. She could tell by the ever-darkening shadows in Tory’s deep green eyes and the way her smile flickered shakily how hard she was trying to keep her worry and sadness a secret. Reese hated knowing she had put the pain there, and was at a loss as to how to fix it. That was the worst part. The helplessness.
For most of her life she’d been a career Marine, and an order had been just an order, a duty to be performed. She did not consider the consequences to herself because she had accepted whatever might result when she’d taken an oath to uphold the honor of the Corps and to serve her country. It had been simple and clear. Now, for the first time in her life, her duty was at odds with her responsibility. Tory’s willingness to accept the hardship of their separation was all that allowed her to leave at all. Even so, she felt pulled in two directions, and something inside was tearing apart.
She walked to her car, knowing that in less than twenty-four hours she would have to put everything aside except what she needed to do to keep those under her command safe and to carry out her duty. Until then, she was going to give everything she had to Tory and Reggie.
*
Since Carter had nothing to do after having been dismissed by Ricarda Pareto—Ricarda Grechi, as she apparently preferred to be called now—she decided she might as well walk down to the harbor and take a look at the area she was supposedly interested in investigating for signs of drug smuggling. The place couldn’t look less like a drug corridor than it did on this sunny morning. The commercial fishing boats had already left for the deeper ocean waters, but there were plenty of small pleasure craft, under sail and motor, coming and going in the harbor off MacMillan Wharf. Carter sipped a second cup of coffee she’d picked up along the way and leaned against a chest-high wooden piling, playing tourist and contemplating Rica Grechi.
The feds hadn’t actually provided any hard evidence tying the daughter to the father in terms of illegal activity. There had been a fair amount of interest in Rica’s gallery in Manhattan because photo surveillance had recorded shots of two upper-level drug couriers making purchases there in the last six months. That was damning, but not something you’d want to go to court on. Still, it was an intriguing piece of the puzzle and warranted continued surveillance. The fact that Rica had opened another gallery where there was already suspicious drug-related activity was a huge red flag that had practically sent Special Agent Allen into paroxysms of excitement.
Carter drained her coffee cup and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. As she did, she noted out of the corner of her eye a gunmetal gray sedan edge along the pier and stop. She’d seen it parked up the street from Rica’s gallery that morning and she’d also seen it following her as she’d walked down Commercial Street. The driver evidently thought that because no one ever drove more than five miles an hour along the single lane one-way street, she wouldn’t notice him tailing her.
Carter decided to disavow him of that notion. She walked over to the car and tapped on the window. When she saw who was inside, she smiled.
The automatic window slid down and she leaned her forearms on the door, smiling at the man and woman in the front seat. “Hello, Agents.”
Agent Allen, her features—which would have been pretty had she ever thought to smile—set into a mask of annoyance, leaned across Toome, who was in the driver’s seat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Get in the car before someone sees us.”
Carter glanced around the wharf. A line was queuing for the Boston ferry, and harried families with too much luggage and wayward children milled about among the gay and lesbian couples leaving after their week of enjoying majority status. The most nefarious individuals in sight were a pair of male street performers dressed like Cher and Celine Dion.
“I don’t actually think there’s anyone around who would care about—”
“Just get in the car.”
“Okay,” Carter said as she slid into the backseat. “But it would be a lot less conspicuous if you, Special Agent Allen, got out and we went for a stroll. Anyone who was really looking for an undercover team would pick up on this vehicle right away.”
Allen snorted. “Oh really? And just what would they think the two of us were doing walking around in plain sight?”
“They’d probably think we were lovers.” Carter smothered a smile at Allen’s look of horror. She lifted her shoulder. “But if you want to take a chance—”
“All right,” Allen seethed. “We’ll walk. Get out of the car.”
Apparently the once distasteful idea was suddenly more appealing, because Allen bolted from the car and Carter had to sprint before catching up with her halfway down the wharf in the center of town. She gripped Allen’s wrist to slow her do
wn.
“What’s going on?”
“I wanted to get a look at the place, in case any kind of action develops here.”
“You mean you’ve never been?”
Allen slanted her eyes in Carter’s direction. “Why would I?”
“Well,” Carter mused, “it’s one of the most beautiful places on the East Coast. It’s got miles of national seashore. It’s got great history, excellent food, fine art, good entertainment, and beautiful women—”
“Your problem, Carter, is that you can’t keep your personal life separate from your work.”
Carter raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? And how exactly would you know that?”
“It’s not exactly a secret that you’ve slept with witnesses, and for all I know, probably suspects.”
Carter laughed. “The only entertaining I’ve done with witnesses has been after a case has closed. As to suspects, well, it’s one instance where handcuffs are a turnoff.”
Allen stopped dead. “If I didn’t think you had the best chance of getting into Ricarda Pareto’s bed, I would’ve had you pulled off this investigation a long time ago.”
“It’s Grechi.”
“What?”
“Grechi. She’s going by Grechi, not Pareto.”
“Her grandmother’s name?”
“And her mother’s maiden,” Carter pointed out.
“Why? Has she ever done that before?” Allen reached into her pocket for a small notebook, but at Carter’s look of amusement, changed her mind. “All right, then. What’s your theory?”
“I got the sense that she came here because no one knows her. Maybe she doesn’t want to be the don’s daughter.”
Allen gave Carter an incredulous look. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Why? What do you really have on her that says otherwise?”
“That’s your job,” Allen said acerbically. “It would be nice if you actually did it for a change. So just do whatever it is that you do, and get to the pillow talk.”