Cozen
Page 16
Or what was over in the second, smaller wing.
The blonde answered one question when one of Jett’s sons—the youngest—passed by the library entryway. “I wonder if Dash is ever going to move out of the second wing. Silas moved out long before he ever got married.”
“He lives there—just him?” Cozen asked.
She didn’t like to prod Jett with too many questions. She could not afford to raise his suspicions with her for any reason. But she was getting work done—she was learning about Jett, parts of his home, and he was letting her into his life.
Just like she needed.
One step closer.
“Yep,” the blonde said. “Just him. It’s closed off from this wing with a hallway and a locked door. Sometimes it’s left open, but you know, Jett doesn’t like for people to wander around beyond the bottom floor very much, or out on the back of the property. Dash, on the other hand, loves to show off the place.”
Cozen heard the woman, but she wasn’t really listening. She had heard a couple of important things, and tucked the information away to keep.
One—the second wing was a useless zone to her. She doubted anything over there was going to help her find the Astor ring if Dash had practically taken over the wing, and lived there full-time.
Two—Jett kept his people, including close friends—downstairs. Or outside. He didn’t want them going upstairs to the second floor of the wing. She suspected that was because they were his private quarters. His real home, essentially. Bedrooms, and offices. Spaces he used to work, or do business in a private manner. And since she knew his work as a black market broker could be sensitive, he probably didn’t want people stumbling on anything.
Upstairs.
That’s where it’ll be.
That’s where she would find the ring.
But where upstairs?
That was the better question.
“I think we better get back to the party,” the blonde repeated. Her gaze traveled upward as she added, “I heard Jett doesn’t invite people back when he finds out they were snooping through his home.”
Cozen found what the woman was looking at. A camera tucked into one of the corners in the ceiling. It’s positioning made it hard to notice at first, but Cozen had been aware of it since damn near the moment she came into the room.
She was in tune to things like security cameras. She had been taught to look for them first, recognize possible angles it was capturing, and then work accordingly in a space. That was why she had been careful not to make it seem like she was doing anything more than just looking around at the books when she came into the library.
It was not the first camera she noticed, and it wasn’t even the fifth. There wasn’t a camera in every room or hallway, but in the main rooms, and the large dining room. A hallway or two, as well. Places where people would be, she noticed.
Jett didn’t trust anyone.
Rightfully so—look at her.
She was more curious, though, if someone was watching the cameras all the time, or if they simply just went back and checked the footage after events or gatherings. That was an important detail to know, should she need to use it.
“There you are, darling.”
Cozen plastered on one of her brightest smiles at Jett’s voice coming from the entryway of the library. She found him standing there in his three-piece suit with his own smile. Although it looked like he had loosened his tie a bit.
“Sorry if I worried you,” Cozen said, and then waved at the library. “I couldn’t help but explore.”
“And let me guess, you got lost in the library?”
“What woman doesn’t love books, Jett?”
“Ah, I see.”
The woman beside her shot Cozen a smile. “I will go find my husband.”
“Thanks for walking around with me.”
“It was very nice to meet you, Cozen.”
“And you.”
She still couldn’t remember the woman’s name, and now, she felt kind of bad about it. Out of all the guests, she had been the nicest, and didn’t make Cozen feel out of place.
It was a shame, really.
Had it been any other time and Cozen met the woman, maybe they could have been friends. Who knew?
Once the woman was gone, Jett joined Cozen in the library. He snagged her hand in his, and then tugged her to follow him to the brown leather loveseat sitting in front of the large windows. His gaze never left her as she thumbed through a paperback that had been sitting on the side table.
“You can take that home with you, if you like,” Jett said. “I finished reading it yesterday.”
“I would like that, thank you.”
She actually wasn’t all that interested in the thriller. She was more of a romance kind of girl, but whatever made the man feel like he was doing something to make her happy. She only needed him to let her into the most private areas of his life.
And fast.
Her time to get this done was running out.
“Did you enjoy tonight?” Jett asked. “Your gifts, and meeting new people?”
Cozen gave him a simpering smile. “Of course, I did. And you have a spectacular home, really. I almost got lost, actually. The house is big.”
“I would have found where you went,” Jett replied, pointing to the camera up above. “At least, in most cases. I keep cameras out of the upstairs, and downstairs they’re placed where I entertain, mostly.”
Good to know.
Cozen filed that information away for later.
“I imagine this is … foreign to you, isn’t it?” Jett asked.
“What is?”
“My wealth.”
Cozen’s smile dropped a bit, but she didn’t take too long to respond. “I don’t have a lot of money, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Lies.
“And I didn’t grow up with a lot of things—stability, love, or otherwise,” she added.
Not a lie.
Jett nodded. “I’m aware.”
Cozen lifted a single brow. “Are you?”
She knew about Jett looking into her past—obviously—the one that was on record, anyway. She had wondered if he would bring it up to her that he had done so, though.
“I don’t want you to be angry with me,” he murmured, “but you have to understand that I can’t allow people into my life without knowing them. I may seem like only a businessman on the outside, but it is behind closed doors where I am something else entirely. I have to know everything about the people I allow inside so that they’re safe, and so am I.”
Cozen wet her lips, and set the book aside. “And what does that mean, exactly?”
“I had someone do a bit of a background search on you, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Jett smiled a bit, though she could see his worry. “Is that all you have to say?”
Cozen shrugged. “Did you find anything interesting? My life has been pretty boring.”
“Hard and difficult, I thought.”
“Pardon?”
“Your life,” he clarified, reaching out to cup her cheek with his warm palm. “It has been hard and difficult.”
Cozen swallowed hard at the feeling of his thumb stroking her skin. She had no real attraction to this man—no desire to want him, or love him. And yet, he seemed to genuinely care about her in some ways.
She had long since learned to play her part in a job, and shut off the tap of emotions that might trickle down with something useless like guilt, or otherwise. Sure, Jett seemed like a decent man from the outside. An older man, but still good-looking, and holding onto his prime. He had lost his wife, and was left with two adult sons. He was like any man, but he was not like every other man, too.
He was also a criminal.
He lived in shades of gray.
Like her.
He just didn’t know about her.
She knew about him.
“But did you enjoy yourself tonight, and your gifts?”
he asked again.
“I said yes.”
His gaze looked her over. “I think blue is definitely your color.”
Cozen smiled, finding her chance to drop a hint. “I think you should see me in red, then.”
His laughter colored up the library.
Jett came closer, and Cozen reached up to pat his hand still resting on her cheek. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and then backed off just as fast.
“Something came up in my call,” he explained, “and I have to get back to it. I asked the guests to leave, and it’s well after one in the morning, so I know you must be tired. Someone is waiting outside to drive you home.”
Cozen frowned. “Oh, okay.”
His thumb stroked her cheek again. “Don’t be sad. We’ll have another day.”
“Soon, right?”
Because time was running out.
And she was so close to the prize, now.
Jett grinned. “Very soon, Cozen.”
“Maybe next time you could be the one to show me around the mansion, then.”
“Would you like that?”
Yes.
Far more than he knew.
She only needed a little bit of time to work.
“I would,” Cozen settled on saying.
“Then, we will definitely have to do that,” Jett replied.
Cozen was entirely unsurprised to find it was Sargon waiting outside by a black town car. Smoke puffed from the tailpipe. It told her that the car had been running for some time.
“Sorry,” she said as he eyed her, “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
“I have been waiting all night.”
“Excuse me?”
The edge of his mouth lifted into a half-sneer, but he simply shook his head before nodding toward the car. “Come on, and I will take you home.”
She wasted no time climbing into the front seat—though she probably should have taken the back—when Sargon opened the door for her. He gave her a lingering look, and his gaze traveled over her body before he closed the door.
She had felt it, though.
The way his gaze sunk into her.
Searched her.
Jesus.
It was only once they were on the road with the mansion far behind them before he spoke again. He never took his eyes away from the road as he talked.
“You’re lucky it is me to drive you home tonight,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“A few hours ago, I would have been over the limit to drive.”
Cozen frowned. “You were drinking?”
“Whiskey. It makes everything better.”
“Does it?”
“Not tonight,” he muttered heavily. “I wasn’t drunk—a little buzzed. I took a nap in the backseat of the car, and woke up fine. Shouldn’t be drinking on the job, anyway.”
She eyed him from the side. “Was it because of me?”
Somehow, she just knew …
Sargon cleared his throat. “I don’t like watching you with him, Cozen. I don’t like the way you smile for him—I know it’s fake, but I don’t know why. I don’t like it when he touches you, or how he shows you off. I hate that you let him do those things, and you keep the act up all the while. I hate all of it.”
“I have let you do far more to me,” she murmured.
Finally, he looked over at her. Those dark eyes of his bore into hers, and pinned her in place. Just like that, her heart picked up, and her breaths came faster. She felt a shiver race over her skin, and it left her feeling warm and beautiful.
All it took was a look.
From him.
“Have I?” he asked, going back to the road.
“What?”
“Done more to you than he has?”
Cozen bit the inside of her cheek. “What are you asking?”
“Did he fuck you?”
The heat in his voice couldn’t be missed. A warning lingered there—unmistakable and dark. A promise of violence in a whisper.
“No,” Cozen said, “but certainly not because he isn’t interested.”
Sargon’s jaw tightened, and so did his fingers around the steering wheel. “That’s a good, and bad, answer.”
“I only lie to work, or save my life.”
His gaze darted to hers again before he asked, “And what is it that you do, Cozen—for work?”
“I play a part to get what I need.”
Not a lie.
Sargon smirked. “I’m not sure if that falls into the good or bad category for an answer this time.”
“It’s all you’re getting.” She twisted the gold band on her thumb. “And what do you do, Sargon?”
“You already know—I am a bodyguard, or an errand runner, depending on his need.”
“For Jett, sure. But what else?”
“I’m usually the one making sure shit doesn’t go bad, Cozen. I blend in well, and I like to be on the move. So, what I do this month may be vastly different from what I am doing next month.” Sargon chuckled dryly. “Did he try at all?”
Cozen gave him another look. “Try what?”
“Jett—did he try to fuck you?”
“No, he sent me home, although it’s clear he’s invested.”
“Invested … that’s an interesting way to describe what he was trying to do tonight.”
Cozen’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“He was showing you what you could have, Cozen. His people, and his beautiful things. You could be one of those beautiful things if you wanted to be. All the wealth, and the lifestyle he leads. It could all be yours, if you asked for it. If you wanted it bad enough.”
And yet, she didn’t.
“I know what I want,” she murmured, staring straight at Sargon.
He looked back, unashamed. “Do you?”
“I will always know, Sargon.”
Sargon pulled the black town car into the parking lot of Cozen’s apartment building, and cut the engine. “I will walk you up.”
Cozen passed him a look. “Will you stay, too?”
He lifted a single brow, but didn’t reply. He hadn’t expected her to be so bold or brazen in asking him to stay the night, but he really couldn’t find himself to be surprised, either. This woman was constantly doing things that stunned him silent.
Instead of answering her, Sargon stepped out of the car. He quickly moved to her side, and opened the passenger door before offering his hand to Cozen. She took it, and he helped her out of the car with a smile.
“Lead the way,” he murmured.
Cozen gave him another one of those half-amused, half-annoyed looks, but she did what he said. Sargon stayed a couple of steps behind her as she headed for her apartment building. He considered it a win-win, anyway.
He got to watch her ass move beneath that dress.
The way her hips swayed …
It was memorizing, really.
Like this, when it was just the two of them, Sargon didn’t have to pretend that he wasn’t interested in Cozen. Like everything about her—all the things he knew, and even the stuff he didn’t know—called out to him like nothing else ever had before.
She was a siren.
Her song sung just for him.
Fuck him for wanting her.
At the back door, Cozen fiddled with keys until she found the right one to unlock the building. Sargon held the door open as she slipped inside, and then he quickly followed. When she looked back at him and caught him staring at her backside again, her gaze narrowed a bit before her laughter lit up the hall.
“See something you like?” she asked.
“What’s not to fucking like, Zen?”
She shot him a simpering smile that promised all sorts of naughty things, and made his cock semi-hard at the thought alone. The smoky eye makeup gave her a demure look, and he bet it would look even better when she was staring up at him.
Like maybe those painted-red lips of hers wrapped around his cock while she was on her knees. He lik
ed the thought of smearing her lipstick a bit while he fucked her mouth, and watching that makeup smudge under his handling.
It was a pretty image.
His mind was creative.
And entirely punishing.
“What’s on your mind?” Cozen asked him as they took the stairs to her floor. He still opted to stay a couple of paces behind her. “You look like you’re thinking awfully hard about something back there, Sargon.”
“You on your knees with your mouth on my dick, water in your eyes, and your makeup a mess. I was trying to decide whether I would leave your hair up, or take it all down. I like it down, you know. Makes it easier to wrap my hands in.”
She had not been expecting that response. Sargon saw it in the way her shoulders tensed, and she almost missed a step. Then, she shot him a look over her shoulder—those russet eyes of hers darkened with lust instantly.
Sargon winked. “You did ask.”
“Is that all you think about when you’re around me?”
No.
Not even close.
“I also wonder why you prefer to sleep in a pile of blankets rather than on a proper bed. I’m curious if you’re a morning person, and if so, do you take coffee, or tea. You wear red a lot when you’re not working—is it a favorite color, or is there another reason you like the color? Have you ever been in love; what are your motives here; can I trust you?”
Cozen turned to face him just as they came to a stop in front of her apartment door. She glanced between the door, and him before whispering, “Come in and stay the evening. Maybe you’ll get all the answers you’re looking for, Sargon.”
“That sounds like more games, Cozen.”
She peered up at him through thick lashes. “I thought you liked my games?”
Sargon moved close enough to Cozen that he could smell the lingering perfume she had worn that day. A perfume he had smelled on her more than once. He figured it must have been a favorite of hers.
A sugary scent mixed with cinnamon, or something in that area. It soaked into his lungs with every breath, and he swore he would never be able to forget that smell. He associated sugar and spice with her, now.
Sweet.
Hot.
The memory was strange.
The brain was stranger.
A single scent—one tied to good or bad events in one’s life—could bring back a swell of memories. And all someone need to do was smell it in passing.