by Lori Wilde
“Cassandra,” Marcos called across the foyer to her. “I’d hoped to see you here.”
“Crap, he saw me.”
As usual, Marcos was overdressed in a tuxedo and looking better manicured than the White House lawn. He flashed a toothy, don-the-sunshades-someone’s-had-Zoom-treatment, pure white smile.
Cass whirled around and looked at Sam, who was a little rumpled and a lot mismatched, and had perfectly normal ivory-colored teeth and she realized she’d never seen a more adorable sight. She took him by the belt loops and looked him squarely in the eye.
“Kiss me, Sam. Kiss me quick and make it good.”
5
THERE WAS NOTHING ON EARTH Sam wanted more than to crush his lips to Cass’s, but this was coming out of left field. Suspiciously, he wondered if she was playing him for a fool, using him to make this Marcos character jealous.
Her blue eyes pleaded. “I’ll make it up to you somehow. Please, just kiss me. The only thing that’s going to deter this guy is if he thinks I’m really, really with you.”
Sam’s thoughts clashed, did heated battle with each other.
Kiss her.
Don’t kiss her.
It would be wrong.
But it would feel so right.
She’s a suspect.
She’s also a woman.
“Please.” She pressed her palms together in supplication.
“Well,” Sam said, enjoying having the upper hand, “if it means that much to you.”
“Just kiss me.”
He took her in his arms. It had been a long time since he’d kissed a woman. He was out of practice. More from laziness than anything else. He’d been busy with his work, busy with his family and for the past year or so hadn’t even bothered looking for female companionship. He really hadn’t felt much of an urge. But with Cass held tightly in his arms, he was definitely feeling the urge, his body telling him that he was long overdue.
Cass’s scent, the sultry smell of a storm hours before it was coming, damaged his sense of right and wrong. He craved the fragrance of her beyond all reason, like an addiction to an exotic drug. Lowering his head, he gently ran his tongue along her lips. There was something incredibly elemental in her breath—as of fire, ocean and wind.
She pulsed, buoyant and desirable. Her lips parted, inviting him in.
And for the first time in eons, Sam Mason came fully alive.
He took her mouth. Took it fierce, took it long and he did not care if anyone saw. In fact, he wanted them to see, wanted them to know that she was with him. He branded her, hot and hard.
Sam feared for a moment that in the excitement of his newfound liberation, he’d gone too far, crossed over some invisible line. But she did not shirk from his passion. Instead she met his fire with an equally compelling blaze of her own.
He plowed his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer, knocking out the hair clip, paying no heed as it hit the stone tile floor. He saw nothing, heard nothing, tasted nothing, felt nothing, and smelled nothing except Cass.
Bending her backward in his arms, he deepened the kiss.
For so long, he’d done what everyone expected of him. He’d been a protective big brother, a playful uncle, a dedicated cop. He hadn’t minded. He liked pleasing the people in his life. He had dinner with his parents every Sunday. He worked hard. He was a team player. He didn’t rock the boat.
And that had been fine.
Until now.
Until Cass.
He’d been sleepwalking through his life and he’d never even guessed. He’d resisted being affected by his experiences. He’d disengaged from intense impulses, tuned out powerful emotions, minimized the importance of his desires.
And now, with just one kiss, everything he’d accepted about himself was knocked askew. Maybe he wasn’t affable, steady, patient Sam. Maybe a lion lurked beneath his calm exterior. All he knew was that something had started to shift inside him and it had everything to do with Cass Richards.
The piquant sting as she eagerly nipped his bottom lip with her teeth brought him back down to earth.
He pulled back, his eyes hooked on hers. “How was that?” he whispered.
“You,” she said, “deserve a promotion for going above and beyond the call of duty.”
He straightened with her in his arms. They looked up to see Marcos standing in front of them, a starving orphan gazing through the window of a five-star restaurant salivating over the delicious delicacies he yearned to taste, but never would.
“Cass,” Marcos said.
“Marcos, hi.” She beamed at him, her lips swollen from the kiss. “Have you met my boyfriend, Sam Mason?”
“No.” Marcos forced a smile and extended a smooth, manicured hand to Sam. “How do you do.”
Sam nodded stiffly, shook his hand. He noted that Marcos seemed to shift under his scrutiny. The man’s cologne gave off a damp papery smell like a box long buried under loamy soil.
“Cass, darling, did I just hear you say you have a new boyfriend?” A petite, bouncy woman in her late twenties, who was a dead ringer for a young Bette Midler, gave Cass a one-armed hug, her other hand occupied with what appeared to be a dirty martini, although Sam couldn’t have said for sure. He was more of a Michelob man himself.
“Bunnie!” Cass air kissed their hostess. “You look fabulous.”
“Don’t I just.” Bunnie pirouetted, dirty martini sloshing from her glass as she spun, a short, stocky tipsy ballerina. “This is a very-of-the-moment grape tulip skirt by Alexander McQueen.”
“It makes you look so skinny.”
“You lie, but thank you. Aren’t you going to introduce me to this incredible hunk of man?” Bunnie asked, stepping closer to peer at Sam and pushing a wounded-looking Marcos aside.
She raked her gaze over Sam’s biceps, made a growling noise and licked her chops.
Sam resisted the urge to turn tail and bolt. He was here for a reason. Best keep that in mind. After the kiss with Cass, his mind was scattered like a fragmented hard drive. He’d need time to defrag and figure out what had just happened. But thanks to Bunnie and Marcos, he wasn’t going to get it.
He did the next best thing. He blocked out Marcos, who was staring menacingly at him and he didn’t dare meet Cass’s gaze. He focused his mind on his job, staring at the cluster of diamonds at Bunnie’s throat, taking note of their size and shape and number.
Just in case the necklace turned up missing.
“It’s a delight to meet you, Sam.” Bunnie offered him her hand like she wanted him to kiss it. Not knowing what else to do, Sam took her hand and lightly pressed it to his lips.
“The delight is all mine,” he said, stealing a line from some movie he’d seen where the people were all wealthy and the men were all suave, sophisticated and devil-may-care. Come to think of it, Keeley had made him watch that movie so he would “know how to act in discreet company.” Well, Bunnie might be rich, but Sam suspected she didn’t have a discreet bone in her body.
“Aren’t you the most adorable thing?” Bunnie glanced over her shoulder at Cass. “Now, this one’s a keeper.”
Marcos, who was still hanging around, glowered at that comment.
“Let’s get this party started.” Bunnie crooked a finger at them. “Come with me.”
Everyone in the vicinity followed Bunnie as if she’d started a conga line. The group snaked its way through the living room to the kitchen and on through French doors leading to the patio, where most of the guests had congregated.
Cass and Sam brought up the rear. Bunnie climbed up on the redwood picnic table and everyone gathered around.
“This is the moment you’ve been waiting for,” Bunnie said. “Finding out what the rest of the weekend has in store.”
The crowd murmured speculatively.
“If you don’t want to play, then buh-bye.” Bunnie waggled her fingers. “This weekend is for serious gamers only. So if you’re staying, look around and pick your party companion.”
<
br /> Sam paused, uncertain as to what this odd development would mean for his investigation. Cass was his prime suspect. He couldn’t afford to start liking her too much. Maybe he should get out now while the getting was good, before something worrisome happened.
Cass slipped her arm through his, anchoring him in place. He might as well stay, ride out his doubts and see this thing through to the end.
“Everyone got a partner?”
“Yes!” came the unified answer.
“Trevor, would you do the honors.”
Collective heads turned as a ferret-faced, pale-skinned man in a dark suit and a purple silk shirt unbuttoned too low, came through the crowd carrying a cardboard box. He stopped, set the box down and began pulling out handcuffs.
Titillated gasps and excited murmurs rippled through the group.
Some people headed for the door, shaking their heads and laughing at Bunnie’s antics, but a good number stayed. Including Marcos. He hooked up with a slender blond model type who resembled Cass.
Trevor set about linking partners together while Bunnie’s smile widened. The sound of handcuffs snapping around wrists rang out in the cool night air.
“You’re going to face a series of mental, physical and emotional challenges while handcuffed to each other. You will stay handcuffed for the duration of the weekend. You’ll be eating and sleeping together, so if you want out of your pair bond, now’s the time to bail. But before you make your decision whether to stay or go, perhaps I should mention the first-place prize.” Bunnie paused for dramatic effect.
The crowd waited.
“A fifty-thousand-dollar donation to the charity of your choice and a mention in my column.”
“How do you know who wins?” Marcos asked.
“Whichever couple completes the challenges and is still talking to each other after the competition will be the victor.”
Cutthroat. Bunnie Bernaldo was a master manipulator who got off on her own power.
Cass looked over at Sam. Her eyes asked, Do you want out?
Do you?
Cass shrugged. I’m game if you are.
Any other time, any other place, with any other woman, Sam would have pulled the plug. He could find another way to catch the jewel thief.
But to his surprise, Sam realized he wanted to play this game. He wanted to be with Cass and he wanted to test their budding relationship.
And he wanted to win that fifty-thousand-dollar prize so he could donate it to the paraplegic foundation that had once helped his family.
Besides, if Cass was handcuffed to him, if she was the thief, there would be no opportunity for her to steal Bunnie’s gems.
“I’m in,” he said.
And with that, Sam Mason committed himself to a walk on the wild side.
TREVOR CLAMPED the cool metal handcuff around Cass’s right wrist, shackling her intimately to Sam. Grinning, he slipped the key into the slit at the top of a metal lock box tucked under his arm.
“That’s it,” Trevor said. “Game on. You’re committed until Sunday morning, come what may.”
Immediately, Cass freaked.
She didn’t show her fear on the outside. She was too good at public relations for that. She knew where her bread was buttered. Winning this contest would not only put much money in the coffers of her favorite charity, Suited for You, a group that gave business suits and makeovers to women of modest means who were applying for higher-paying jobs, but would also garner her a mention in Moment.
Free advertising. No sweeter words to a PR specialist’s ears, but in spite of the rewards Bunnie dangled, in spite of the fact Cass was interested in getting to know Sam better—specifically after that soul-stealing kiss he’d laid on her in the foyer with the fat Buddha statue smiling his approval—she couldn’t help feeling like a coyote in a trap. She wondered curiously how long it would take to gnaw off her hand.
Look at the bright side. You could be chained to Marcos.
Over her dead body.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” she said, snagging hold of the hem of Trevor’s jacket before he could move away. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
“So go.”
Cass angled her head at Sam. “With him attached to me?”
“Part of the game.”
“It’s kind of private, don’t you think?”
“You’ll find a way.”
“Seriously, unlock me for a sec, Trevor.”
“Can’t.” He seemed far too pleased to break this news to her. “Key will stay locked in the box until Sunday morning. Once it’s in here—” he patted the metal box tucked under his arm “—that’s where it’ll stay until the competition is over.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Bunnie’s rules. Only Bunnie can change them.”
Meaning Bunnie ruled. And whatever Bunnie wanted, Bunnie got.
Okay, fine. It was only for a day and a half. Cass could handle this. She plastered a bright smile on her face, belying the firestorm in her stomach.
Sam stood to her right, assessing her without comment, gauging her reaction. She could see it in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the slight narrowing of his dusty gray eyes. As if he was waiting for her to unravel.
Hmph. This was definitely the downside of hanging out with a cop. They were always searching for the truth underneath the surface.
Fingers tickled lightly at her left shoulder. Cass turned her head and saw Julia, unfettered by handcuffs. Beyond Julia, standing beside the backyard gate, was her mystery man.
“Just want to say goodnight, Cass.”
“You and your…um…fellow aren’t staying?”
Julia lowered her voice. “Are you nuts? Alex and I are not about to ruin a perfectly great sexual relationship with Bunnie Bernaldo’s forced proximity.”
“Yeah.” Cass couldn’t help glancing over at Sam. He looked bemused by her conversation.
Already this handcuff thing was inconvenient. So much for secrets.
“You have a nice weekend.” Julia used her thumb and pinkie finger to simulate a phone and held it up to her ear. Call me later, she mouthed silently, then said, “Bye, Sam.”
He raised a hand.
Julia and her paramour disappeared.
“Looks like everyone that’s participating is set,” Bunnie called from her perch atop the picnic table. “How many pairs do we have, Trevor?”
“Twelve.”
“Perfect. An even dozen.”
Feeling antsy about her quickly diminishing options, Cass darted her gaze around the crowd. From out of nowhere she had an urge to buy something. To go shopping until this heavy feeling inside dissipated.
She shifted her eyes back to Bunnie, saw her necklace hanging awry. “Excuse me, Bun. But you’re about to lose your diamonds.”
Bunnie’s hand went to her throat. “Darned clasp keeps coming loose.” She took the necklace off and handed it to Trevor.
“Be careful, Bunnie. The Blueblood Burglar could be lurking!” one partier shouted.
Everyone including Bunnie laughed. “I know each of you here except Cass’s new beau. And I’m certain he wouldn’t burgle me, would you, Sam?”
“Of course not,” he said.
“See, if a stranger won’t steal from me, I know my best friends won’t.” Bunnie cast a meaningful glance at her guests.
“Tell us about the challenges,” the skinny blonde with Marcos called out.
“Yes.” Bunnie cleared her throat. “For your first challenge you’re to get to know as much about your partner as possible before morning. At breakfast, you’ll be asked ten questions about each other. The pair who answers the most questions correctly wins the challenge. For those of you who are already lovers don’t assume you have an edge. Just because you have sex with someone doesn’t mean you know them. And these questions are very intimate indeed. Share your deepest fears, your darkest secrets, the most personal details of your life and you’ll be the winner.”
This simply wasn’t going to work. She wanted out.
Her chest heaved and her breath came out in ragged little puffs. She was almost as scared as she had been on that window ledge.
Think about the money for those women who need nice clothes, not to mention the confidence, to get better jobs to support their families. Think about getting written up in Moment.
Screw all that. She wasn’t doing this.
As if sensing her panic, Sam leaned over, pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered, “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
6
“TELL ME HOW YOU LOST your virginity,” Cass said to Sam.
“Do you really think Bunnie will ask that question?”
“That one’s a given. She’s fascinated by lost virginity stories.”
“Do you want the real story, or the one we’re going to concoct for Bunnie’s puerile curiosity?”
“Whatever suits you.” She wanted to hear the real story of his first sexual experience, but didn’t think it was fair of her to ask since she wasn’t willing to reciprocate.
“We could tell each other some true stuff and some false stuff and then don’t say which is which. It’ll make things more interesting for us, trying to guess the truth,” he suggested.
Hmm, it was an intriguing idea. She would like to know some real things about him, she just didn’t want to tip her own hand.
Bunnie had put them up in a beach bungalow and while the room was a bit on the drafty side this time of year, the fact that they were away from the main house and out from under Bunnie’s direct supervision was a plus.
Cass lay on her belly in the middle of the bed, knees and elbows bent, feet in the air, chin propped in her upturned palms. She had a pen and legal pad in front of her, ready to take notes.
The handcuffs lay open on the nightstand. She was glad Sam carried a handcuff-lock-picking tool and knew how to use it.