Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One

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Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One Page 9

by HELEN HARDT


  “I’ll have a cup of coffee.” I smiled. “And a bite of your cheesecake.”

  He gestured to our server, who came over instantly.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Do you have any cheesecake tonight?”

  “Yes, sir. We have a wonderful New York Cheesecake with raspberry coulis.”

  “Perfect. We’ll take two slices, and two cups of coffee.”

  “Hey, I don’t want—”

  Rock stopped me. “Just bring two. She wants to taste mine, and once she tastes it, she’s going to want her own.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. He was probably right, though he had no way of knowing that. He must be used to women eating his dessert. Jealousy speared through me. Of course he was. A man like Rock Wolfe didn’t live a celibate life.

  Pissed me off just thinking about all the women he’d most likely been with.

  Calm down, Lacey.

  Riley looked at her phone. “If you two don’t mind, I need to leave. I have an early shoot in the morning. I feel bad, since I invited you.” She nodded to me. Then she pulled out her wallet and a couple one-hundred-dollar bills.

  “Put that away. We’ll just do it again sometime, and then it will be your turn. It’s okay.” Except that she was leaving me here with her gorgeous brother who’d try to lure me back into his bed.

  And I’d probably go.

  Still, I felt a concern for Riley as she mumbled her thanks and shoved the bills back into her purse. She was so young, and something had clearly been bothering her enough to want to talk to a stranger about it. A stranger who was also a lawyer.

  She stood. “I’ll call you.”

  “Of course.”

  She smiled weakly and left the table.

  I doubted she’d call me. She’d gotten up her courage only to lose it. She’d have a hard time scraping it together again.

  Rock took about two seconds to pounce on me about his sister. “Why were you having dinner with Riley?”

  “I’m not really sure. She said she wanted to talk to me about something, but I guess she changed her mind.”

  He stared past me for a moment. I could almost see his mind working, wondering. But then he cleared his throat. “I guess it’s just you and me, then, and here comes our dessert.”

  The cheesecake was rich and creamy, as I knew it would be. “Mmm,” I said. “I might as well just paste this onto my waistline.”

  “Nothing at all wrong with your waistline.” He eyed me lasciviously.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  “Stop what?” he asked, wide-eyed.

  “Looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  His feigned innocence was getting tedious.

  “Like you’d rather eat me for dessert than this cheesecake.”

  “Hadn’t thought of it. But it’s a damned good idea, now that you mention it.”

  Already I could feel myself caving. But the way he’d walked out on me Friday evening had been obnoxious and rude. I wasn’t about to set myself up for that again.

  So I said nothing. Just took a bite of cheesecake.

  And he watched me. Watched me place the fork between my lips, watched me chew, watched me swallow, watched me pull my napkin up from my lap and pat my mouth.

  I was beginning to feel like I was putting on a show for him.

  I took another bite, and he assessed me in the same way, his eyes fiery.

  Talk about feeling self-conscious.

  “Aren’t you going to eat your dessert?” I asked.

  “It’s a lot more fun watching you eat yours.” He licked his lips.

  Oh. My. God.

  Fine. I’d give him a show if he wanted a show. I sank my fork back down into the creamy cheesecake and then slowly brought it to my lips, never breaking eye contact with him. “It’s so good,” I said, doing my best to sound sultry. “Such a creamy texture on my tongue.” I slid the fork through my lips. “Mmm.”

  “You’re killing me here.”

  “You wanted to watch.”

  “I’ll tell you what I want. I want to smear that cheesecake all over your naked body and lick it off.”

  I swallowed the bite of dessert with a gulp.

  Already I was throbbing between my legs. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  He gestured to our waiter. “I’m going to need a doggie bag for my dessert, garcon. I have other plans for it later.”

  “Right away, sir.” The waiter took his dessert plate.

  Rock turned to me, his gaze full of lust. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  21

  Rock

  “No.”

  No? She said no?

  “I’m not done with my cheesecake.”

  “We’ll wrap yours up too. Take it with us. My hotel is only a few blocks away, baby. I can guarantee you a good time, as you know.”

  She took another bite of cheesecake. Did any woman know how to eat as sexily as this one did? I wasn’t sure I’d ever gotten a major hard-on watching a woman eat cheesecake before.

  She swallowed. “No,” she said again.

  “Christ, you’re killing me here.” I squirmed. My dick was way too big for these jeans right now.

  “Oh, well.” She took another bite—just to torment me, I was sure.

  “Come on, baby. We had a good time, didn’t we?”

  “Who said we didn’t?”

  “Then why don’t you want a repeat?”

  She took one more bite of dessert and brought it to her lips achingly slowly. Once she swallowed, she said, “Because I don’t appreciate being told I’m manipulative. And I don’t appreciate being left alone in your hotel suite. So I’m done, Rock. It was fun, but I’m done.”

  “Damn, Lacey.” My groin was on fire.

  She fucking took another bite of that damned cheesecake, and then another.

  One more, and she was done. Thank God. Then she took a sip of her coffee.

  My cup sat, still full. Jacques—or whatever his name was—came back with my small box of cheesecake…and the check.

  It would serve Lacey right if I left her with it. I didn’t have any money. Not yet, anyway.

  But she subtly slid it in front of her, pulled her wallet out of her purse, and placed a credit card in the folder.

  “I’ll get that,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But Riley invited me. You didn’t.”

  “Riley invited me as well, but Riley’s not here. I don’t have any problem paying my own way.”

  “What about paying my way?”

  “I don’t have any problem with that either. This way I don’t owe you anything.”

  Damn. That was a low blow. Would I seriously not be getting any tonight?

  Then my phone buzzed.

  Damn again.

  “Yeah?” I said into it.

  “Hey, Rock, it’s Reid. You need to come back to the office. The cops found something about Dad.”

  It was after nine o’clock when I got back up to the office. Reid was there with the cops. Roy walked in about two minutes after I did.

  “What’s going on? And how did you get here so quickly?” I asked Reid.

  “I never left.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “This is a round-the-clock job, brother. I thought I made that clear.”

  I had a feeling there were a lot of things that hadn’t been made clear to me yet. “Yeah? Why didn’t you bitch when I left, then?”

  “I didn’t realize you had left. It may surprise you, Rock, but I have way more important things to do to keep this company running smoothly than keep tabs on my new CEO.”

  “Your new CEO?”

  He rolled his eyes. “The company’s new CEO. Look. We both know I should have your job. Dad fucked us all over. Not just you.”

  “I get that. I do. But at least you weren’t ripped out of a life you loved and forced into one you hate.”

  “Rock, the only
way any of us are going to get through this is if you have a change of attitude. As long as you hate this, resent this, none of us will be happy. Get it?”

  Oh, I got it, all right. “Fuck you, Reid.”

  “And fuck you right back. Thanks for listening, by the way.”

  “I heard every word you said.”

  “Did you? Then put them to use. For all our sakes.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but two blues walked in before I could, followed by a plainclothesman.

  The plainclothesman held out his hand. “I’m Detective Hank Morgan.”

  Reid shook his hand. “Reid Wolfe. My brothers Rock and Roy.”

  I shook his hand. Limp handshake. Great. Just who I wanted on this investigation. Not that I cared who offed my father, but I sure didn’t want whoever it was coming after the rest of us.

  “Will your sister be joining us?” the detective asked.

  “I wasn’t able to get hold of her,” Reid said.

  “But I just saw her at dinner.” I rubbed my chin, worry for my sister churning through me. What was going on with her?

  “All right. Let’s all have a seat.”

  There weren’t enough chairs for the two blues. “Why don’t we go into a conference room?” I said.

  “Good enough.” Reid led the way.

  Once we were seated at the table, Reid spoke again. “What’s the news that couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “We got one set of prints from the gun we found at the scene, and we figured you’d want to know who they belonged to.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, shaking my head. “Whoever offed Derek Wolfe left the gun there?”

  “Yup.” Morgan pulled out his phone. “Most likely a plant.”

  “Meaning?” Roy asked.

  “Meaning this weapon isn’t registered anywhere or to anyone, which indicates the serial number has probably been tampered with. We’re pretty sure the fingerprints on the gun don’t belong to the shooter—”

  “They were planted,” I finished for him.

  “Seems to be the case,” Morgan said.

  “Who do they belong to?” Reid asked.

  The detective looked directly at me. “They belong to you. Rock Wolfe.”

  I stood, hot anger taking me over. “That’s insane. I wasn’t even in the state when this happened.”

  “Calm down,” Morgan said.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Reid said. “How do you know they’re Rock’s?”

  “We ran them.”

  “But how—”

  I stopped him with a gesture. “I was arrested a couple years ago for brawling in a bar, okay? The charges were dropped, but not before they took my prints and a mug shot. But I’ll remind you again that I wasn’t in this damned state when my father was killed.”

  “I know that, and it’s been corroborated,” Hank said. “But someone sure wants us to think you were there.”

  “Probably my bastard of a father,” I said.

  “Rock,” Roy said, “why would Dad put you in charge of his company and then have himself killed and try to frame you for his murder? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Did the asshole ever make sense in his life?” I roared.

  “Not as a father, no,” Reid agreed. “But this is his business. If he left it in your hands, he sure as hell wouldn’t want you hauled off to prison. Then what? According to his will, none of us would get anything.”

  I scoffed. “Maybe that was his plan the whole time.”

  Both my brothers’ eyes widened. Yeah. I’d made them think. And while they didn’t want to believe what I’d said, their eyes told me they weren’t totally convinced.

  “Do you have any enemies?” Hank asked me.

  “Other than my dead father? No.”

  “You just said you were in a fight in a bar.”

  “With an asshole from out of town who tried something on one of my friends, but he was hardly the type who could have a billionaire murdered to frame me.”

  “How do you know? Do you remember his name?”

  “Hell, no, I don’t remember his name. I never saw him again. Go get the police report if you want details.”

  “I will. But for now, think back. You’ve been gone from New York a long time. Did you leave any unfinished business here? Or maybe in Montana? Did you have a falling out with anyone? Something major?”

  I’d had more than that one brawl in biker bars, but none of those jerks were smart enough to plant my fingerprints on a weapon. “None that I can think of.”

  “How about women? A jilted lover, maybe?”

  I hadn’t had any serious relationships to speak of. I’d dated a few women, but everything had always ended amicably. At least I’d thought so. I only got serious with one. Of course I’d had my share of no-strings fucks as well. “No.”

  “Work problems?”

  “No.”

  “All right. Good enough. We’ll have to attack it from your father’s angle then. There must be someone who wanted your father dead and wanted you blamed for it. Any ideas?”

  “I’m sure a lot of people wanted my father dead,” I said. And I’m one of them.

  “I can’t disagree with my brother,” Reid said. “Derek Wolfe had plenty of enemies. But it was all business.”

  “Business with the wrong people can lead to things like this,” Morgan said. “I don’t have to educate you on that.”

  Reid nodded solemnly.

  He knew something. Something he’d better fucking tell me when I could get him alone. I’d been thrown into this raging fire against my will, and I needed all the information available.

  “I’m going to need access to all your father’s business records. I need names of people he clashed with in business.”

  “You’re going to be looking for a needle in a haystack,” Reid said.

  “Understood. But I’ve found those needles before. I intend to find it this time.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve been gone since I was eighteen years old. Not one of my father’s business contacts would know anything about me. Who would want to drag me into this?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Wolfe. But I will do my best to find out.”

  22

  Lacey

  The cab dropped me at my apartment. I whisked quickly past the doorman and stood, waiting for the elevator.

  Horny and waiting for the elevator.

  This was so crazy. Rock was a jerk. A really sexy and hot jerk, but a jerk, nonetheless. Oh, he was definitely his father’s son, a comparison he’d hate.

  Derek Wolfe had been a huge womanizer and had left a string of broken hearts in his wake. He’d cheated on his wife, Connie, and then on his girlfriend, Fonda. It was no secret at my firm. One of my partners handled the hush money, and it amounted to millions.

  Rock Wolfe didn’t have any money. Well, he did now. But before now, I had no doubt that he’d left a lot of broken hearts behind in Montana. Like father, like son.

  God, he’d hate that.

  No matter how true it was.

  Time to forget about Rock Wolfe. The elevator dinged, and my neighbor, Paul Hansen, walked out.

  “Hey, Lace. What are you up to tonight?”

  “A hot bath.”

  Paul was dressed to kill in casual black pants, a red cotton button-down, and a black leather blazer. With his blond hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin, he was handsome and sexy. But he was nothing like Rock Wolfe. The anti-Rock.

  “Are you kidding? The night is young. I’m meeting some friends for a drink. You should come.”

  I looked down at my wrinkled work clothes. “Maybe another time.”

  “You look like you could use some fun. Just one drink. I’m buying.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on.”

  I sighed. Why not? “At least let me change first.”

  “Why? You look great, as always.”

  I could feel the bags under my eyes. I had to at least check my face. But before I could, he was pulling me out the
door. We grabbed a cab, and within a few minutes, Paul was leading me into a bar.

  Crowded, though not overly so. It was Monday night, not Friday night. A group of three waved us over to a table in the corner.

  “Hey, guys,” Paul said. “This is my neighbor, Lacey Ward. Lace, meet Jon Gregory, Lena Thomas, and Fox Monroe.”

  I smiled. “Fox? As in Mulder?”

  He laughed. “I was named after him, actually.”

  Whoa. Young, then. No more than twenty-five at the most, and I’d put him younger. He had to be at least twenty-one to be here. I was suddenly feeling very ancient at thirty-one. He was gorgeous, though. They all were, including the woman. And dressed for a night out, which I so very wasn’t.

  “Have a seat.” Fox patted the chair beside him.

  What the heck? Paul took the spot on my other side, and our table was complete.

  Fox signaled a server. When she arrived, he asked, “What would you like?”

  I had no idea. Then I thought of Rock. “Bourbon. On the rocks.”

  “Any particular bourbon?” the woman asked.

  “The first one the bartender can get his hands on works for me,” I said, mimicking Rock’s statement at the restaurant.

  “Now there’s a woman after my own heart,” Fox said, laughing. “Bring me the same.”

  The others placed their orders, and Fox turned back to me.

  “What do you do, Lacey?”

  “I’m an attorney. What do you do?”

  “I’m a model.”

  Of course he was. His face was finely chiseled, not a single flaw, and his jawline sported a few days’ growth of sandy brown hair. His eyes were clear and blue. Really beautiful and sparkling and very focused on me.

  I squirmed a little. Why was this making me so uncomfortable? His age? Nah. I wasn’t ageist or any -ist. Another time, I’d be loving his attention.

  Why was he looking at me, anyway? My hair was no doubt a mess, my lipstick non-existent, and I was wearing clothes more suitable for a courtroom than a night out.

  He continued staring at me, the silence becoming unbearable.

  “A model?” That was intelligent, Lacey.

  “Yup.”

  “I have a friend who’s a model. Maybe you know her. Riley Wolfe?”

 

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