by Jamie Denton
By mutual agreement, they’d tabled their earlier discussion until they were both rested. Still, it’d been hours before they’d fallen asleep. As a result of all that late-night lovemaking, she’d risen much later than usual and had been surprised to see it was after noon when she’d finally climbed out of bed.
Showered and dressed in her favorite pair of jeans and a cotton tank top, she’d spent the past hour reading through the files he’d delivered to her last night while he continued to sleep. She found new information on the Garfield incident in Miami, which surprised her. A necklace had been stolen which hadn’t been included in the police report Sunny had. A second report had been filed five days later, which she’d been unaware of until now. In order to file an insurance claim, the loss had to be reported to the authorities. Garfield claimed she hadn’t realized the necklace was missing, but Sunny wasn’t certain she believed the vic. The necklace—a stunning Egyptian design made of a platinum amulet encrusted with rubies, sapphires and diamonds—was worth a small fortune. A chain fashioned of more gemstones, circled the neck. A piece of that caliber wasn’t something a person could easily overlook, especially when reporting a theft.
The interview Sunny had conducted with Celine Garfield had revealed the UNSUB had approached the victim for the purpose of acquiring Egyptian artifacts. She wondered if Garfield had been wearing the necklace when the UNSUB made initial contact. If so, then Sunny had a good idea of why he’d chosen Garfield as a mark. She made a note to ask Garfield when she’d last worn the piece, but she didn’t expect the woman to be much help.
Sunny set aside the photo of the necklace and reached for her coffee. As much as she’d like to better understand the vics, their attitude toward the Seducer had her stumped. None of them had been all that helpful. Oh sure, they’d cooperated fully with her investigation, but they’d all appeared more concerned with the return of their property than in aiding in the Seducer’s apprehension.
Sex could definitely change a person’s outlook, she thought, thinking momentarily of the naked man sleeping in her bed. But was it enough to completely alter an individual’s perspective of right and wrong? Each of the vics she’d interviewed thus far had commented on the Seducer’s prowess in the bedroom. Wilder had claimed him a master of foreplay. Maddie Bryson had reported a very intriguing encounter with a wine bottle that had made Sunny uncomfortable, as had Joy Tweed’s revelation of the sensual self-awareness she’d discovered under his tutelage. Bettina Manchester had been extremely forthright in relating her tale of the UNSUB’s seduction, and Sunny still couldn’t read through the recorded statement without blushing. She might fantasize about having sex with Duncan beside a stream, but she wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve to actually live out the fantasy as Manchester had done with the Seducer while out on an afternoon hike in the mountains.
Duncan’s file on Wilder basically mirrored her own, although hers contained more detail. The Dallas claim for Alicia Dearborn had been more enlightening and was similar to Wilder’s in that Dearborn was another patron of the arts. The UNSUB hadn’t pulled anything as extreme as what he had on Wilder with the art gallery, but a painting had been stolen, along with more cash and a fur coat. The coat was a new one, but the valuable art and cash were all too familiar. Even without official confirmation and based solely on the circumstances surrounding the case, she felt confident Eric Vossler was the Seducer. Now that she had the basic facts, she’d fax the information to Larry Henley in the Dallas field office, which might speed up the process. When she’d finally spoken to the Dallas SAC Friday morning, he’d been helpful and had promised to have one his agents look into the matter as soon as he had a body he could spare. Because SEDSCAM was a nonviolent crime, she understood why it held a lower priority, but that didn’t lessen her frustration.
She’d been hopeful Duncan’s files would provide a link to substantiate Georgia’s theory that the UNSUB could be from New York. Sunny hadn’t found a shred of evidence to support the argument, but she agreed with Georgia in that a believable con required the right blend of fact and fabrication. They knew the Seducer had an affinity for fine arts and may have indeed spent time in the galleries at the metropolitan museum as he’d related to Wilder, but to Sunny it wasn’t enough to spend taxpayer dollars on a manhunt of the New York area. Still, Georgia had a hunch, and Sunny wasn’t willing to discount the younger agent’s theory completely.
She scooped up the documents she’d spread over the dining room table and returned them to the thick, padded envelope. As important as the case was to her, there wasn’t much else she could do until Monday when she’d make arrangements to travel to Dallas for an interview with Alicia Dearborn.
Besides, she thought with a grin as she tossed the envelope on the buffet, she did have other pressing matters to attend to—and taking advantage of the gorgeous, naked man currently in her bed topped her list.
“SHALL I CALL YOU when your car is ready, Mr. Seville?”
“That won’t be necessary, I’ll be down momentarily.” Peter Seville pressed a crisp one hundred dollar bill into the butler’s hand. Glen Specht wouldn’t have given the snooty bastard a nickel for his trouble.
“The lady will be checking out tomorrow afternoon,” Peter said in a perfectly modulated voice. “Please see that she isn’t disturbed.”
“I will see to it personally, sir.” The butler tipped his head politely then discretely disappeared from the suite on the heels of the bellman.
Alone, Peter quietly crossed the ostentatious living room to the enormous, beautifully appointed bedroom. His stay at the Drake Hotel had been far too brief to suit him. Unfortunately, he’d been forced to call an end to his business in Chicago much earlier than anticipated.
Slowly, he crept toward the bed, not that he expected the blonde to awaken. By the time the effects of the sleeping pills he’d given her wore off, Peter Seville would have vanished into thin air, and Specht would have returned in time to curse the sweltering heat and humidity of New Orleans. His work in Chicago was nearly finished, and it was time for Glen to prepare for Farley Madison’s introduction to Elizabeth Southern.
For Farley’s sake, he certainly hoped for a more challenging business venture than what he’d experienced with Hope Templeton. His pigeon had turned out to be a stupid, classless cow and far too simple-minded to be of more than an unremarkable amusement. He had been far more fortunate with Margo. She was a beautiful woman, one who possessed class, breeding and exquisite taste.
He cast one final glance at Hope and his stomach lurched. “How utterly pathetic you are, my dear.” He spoke softly, not because he feared she could hear him, but because he could hardly hear himself think over the resonating snores pouring from her pasty lips. No, his soft-spoken nature belonged solely to Peter Seville, a refined man who appreciated the finer things. A professional respected in his field, a superior counselor at law.
Resting his knee on the mattress, he leaned over Hope and caressed her round cheek with the tip of his index finger, then tapped it twice on her pouty bottom lip. “Je t’ai sous la peau,” he whispered.
He had one last errand to attend to before the exchange at O’Hare. He had to make the best of what little time remained before Specht’s return. That was the agreement, and despite Peter’s disappointment, the time had come for him to depart the Windy City.
Two hours later, Peter Seville walked into the busiest men’s room in the Delta terminal at O’Hare Airport, and disappeared.
15
“IT’S SUNSHINE, isn’t it?”
“What part of no don’t you understand?”
Sunny squirmed beneath him, but Duncan only tightened his hold on her wrists. He kept his legs tangled with hers, despite the torture she caused him every time she wiggled, her body coming into direct, highly distracting contact with his erection.
“The part about why you’re in denial. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he teased her. He could get used to waking up like this every morning and had for t
he past four days. Making love to her was one hell of a way to start the day, and he wasn’t happy that tomorrow he’d not have that luxury since she was leaving for Texas for a couple of days. He consoled himself with the fact they had a few hours together before her noon flight to DFW.
She narrowed her eyes, and he kissed her before she had a chance to tell him no again. His tongue tangled with hers. The tension left her body as she kissed him back, but he was on to her game. The second he let his guard down, she’d try to slip away from him again the way she had the last time.
He lifted his head. Desire filled her green eyes. The taut peaks of her breasts teased his chest. She was murder on his concentration. “Tell me,” he coaxed before she distracted him and he made love to her again.
He couldn’t get enough of her, had serious doubts he’d ever completely have his fill, but he’d come to the conclusion he’d better learn to live with it. Sunny hadn’t only gotten under his skin, she’d sneaked into his heart and there wasn’t a damned thing he wanted to do about it, either.
She remained stubbornly tight-lipped.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it.” He lowered his head and nipped lightly at the tender skin beneath her breast. “I have ways to make you talk.” With her hands still trapped within his above her head, he dotting her rib cage with kisses and flicks of his tongue, slowly charting a path to where he knew she was wildly ticklish.
“Never,” she said and giggled. “You’ll never get it out of me.”
He swirled his tongue over her skin. When he reached the side of her breast, she erupted in laughter.
“Okay, okay,” she said when she’d had enough. “Stop and I’ll tell you.”
“Sunshine.”
“No.”
He blew a stream of breath against the side of her breast and moved closer to his target.
“But you’re close. You’re close,” she said the words in a rush before he could make good on his threat.
“I’m waiting.”
She let out a melodramatic sigh. “If you laugh, I’ll hurt you. Don’t think I can’t do it, either. I’m trained to kill, you know.”
“Big deal,” he countered. “So was I. I’m waiting…”
“You know, I bet we had some of the same instructors.”
“You’re stalling.”
She rolled her eyes and gave him her I’m-so-bored-with-this look he knew was bull. “Sunrise.”
He didn’t laugh. The effort just about killed him, but he wouldn’t laugh when she was so obviously sensitive about the fact that her quasi-hippie parents had named her Sunrise. “Sunny makes sense then,” he said, struggling to keep a straight face. “But what’s the R. stand for?”
“Rise.”
His lips twitched. Hers didn’t. “Sunrise Rise?”
Her expression turned serious. “Sun. Rise. Two words.”
He cleared his throat, but he was in danger of losing it. “What were your parents smoking at the time?” he asked, letting go of her hands.
“I’ve been afraid to ask,” she said in that wry tone he learned she often used whenever the subject of her folks came up in conversation. She looped her arms around his neck. “But it had to be mild compared whatever they were doing when my sister, Dale, was born.”
He rolled to his back and took her with him. She rose to her knees and straddled his hips. Settling her bottom on his thighs, she took him in her hand and positioned the condom she’d been clasping when she’d refused to tell him what her initials had stood for.
“Let me guess,” he said, needing a distraction. After nearly having his control shattered last night when he’d been mesmerized watching her apply a condom, he’d learned his lesson. The sight of her hands on him was more than he could withstand. He studied her face, instead. “Day Light.”
Her forehead puckered as she concentrated on her task. He counted backward from one hundred. In two’s.
“Dandelion,” she said, her voice tinged with laughter. “One word.”
“Babe, you do realize dandelions are weeds.”
“Yes, I know,” she said and let go of another sigh. “How much you want to bet there’s irony involved?
“There we go,” she said brightly, and he chuckled. She sounded as if she’d just put the finishing touches on a Christmas package. He had a present for her, one that was self-serving but dually pleasurable.
On her knees, she moved forward until her slick center was poised over him. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she wrapped her hand around his length and lowered her hips. She kept him from entering her, taunting him instead so the head of his dick teased her opening.
“Now I want you to do something for me.” She released him, but still held him back, denying what his body naturally strained toward.
“Tell me, and it’s yours.”
She held his gaze, then moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. In a gentle motion, she rolled her hips just enough to drive him crazy. She mouthed a silent two word demand that had him taking hold of her hips and easing her down the length of his shaft, just like she’d told him to do.
A WEEK LATER Duncan hadn’t made any more progress than Sunny in regard to SEDSCAM. He’d come no closer to locating the stolen goods and his frustration was mounting. As far as his relationship with Sunny, however, dissatisfaction didn’t exist in his vocabulary.
They’d been seeing each other for nearly two weeks, and although they hadn’t exchanged keys yet, other than the few days she’d been in Texas last week, they’d spent every night together at her place.
Sitting in her living room, he perused the business section of the Tuesday paper, while she watched the latest reality show to hit the airwaves. Once the program ended, she flipped off the set and looked at him expectantly. “We need to talk,” she said.
“Sounds serious.” Not that he was too worried, but any conversation that began with “we need to talk” usually didn’t end well.
“It is,” she said. “I’ve been trying to piece together a profile, but I’m not having much luck. I started thinking about how much you know about pulling cons, and I’m wondering, exactly how did you become so knowledgeable on the subject?”
He’d been careful about not discussing the case with her unless she initiated the conversation, having no desire of being reminded of those tense moments in the beginning when she’d misconstrued his intentions. It still stung his pride that she’d had such a low opinion of him, but he understood they’d been chartering foreign territory and had been working under a new relationship handicap with a sharp learning curve. He’d rather avoid the subject altogether.
He folded the paper and tossed it on the coffee table. He’d promised to help her understand how a con artist worked and she hadn’t been shy in taking advantage of his knowledge. He’d grown used to her constant battery of questions, and realized with every query, she came closer to the truth. The line he’d chosen to walk when he’d told her he could help her catch the UNSUB was a narrow one, but he’d navigated thinner. He’d once been a paid chameleon for the government, and although the skills might show a little rust from nonuse, they were deeply ingrained in his soul. A talent that had enabled him to keep the truth from her for as long as he had.
“Are you sure?” he asked her. “You might not like what you hear.”
She laced her fingers with his. “I’m sure,” she said, then gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as if he were the one in need of encouragement.
“If you think about it,” he said, “an undercover operative is nothing more than a legal con artist.”
“Maybe on the surface,” she concluded. “But a con is ruled by greed. He takes what he wants, because it’s easier than making an honest living. But a con doesn’t completely change his persona the way my guy does, so the textbook profile of a thief doesn’t fit. You were undercover, you know what it takes to psychologically become a different person. That’s what I need to understand.”
He released her
hand to turn to face her more fully. “What do you mean his personality changes?” he asked. This was news to him, and made the case all the more dangerous if her UNSUB was playing a mind game as she suggested. “And why haven’t you told me this before now?”
She shrugged, unconcerned. “I just assumed you knew.”
“No, you didn’t. What if this guy comes unhinged?” He knew what could go wrong at any given moment, and he wanted her to fully understand what she could be up against. She didn’t have his experience working violent crime. When she came face-to-face with the UNSUB, if she wasn’t prepared to handle the worst, he didn’t want to think about what could happen to her.
“This is a confidence man, a con artist, grifter, swindler, take your pick. Some are born, some made, but the best are a combination, like him. They’re born into the life, taught their trade by elders. They don’t live by the same rules we do, and their societal hierarchy isn’t open for public inspection.”
“Duncan,” she said, her voice laced with impatience. “I already know all this. That’s not—”
“And when was your last undercover assignment into a network of scum that you have so much experience? You’re threatening this guy’s livelihood, Sunny. He’s running a highly profitable scam, so don’t think it won’t turn ugly really fast,” he snapped irritably. He scrubbed his hand over his face. Frustration and fear for her safety bit into him hard. “Fired your weapon lately, Agent MacGregor? Other than on the firing range?”
She glared at him, but he didn’t give a damn. Let her get pissed at him. He’d gladly take the heat if it kept her alive. “Been a while, hasn’t it?” he intentionally taunted her.
“I don’t know what just crawled up your ass, but don’t even think you can—”