"Both, Detective. There's a rumor going around that the owner of the club's been missing for months. Last time I checked, dominant types in that line of business don't much like being out of control. I mean, what would make someone just disappear?"
"Maybe she's out on business or just needed a break from the whole thing. I don't know. I will guess any business owner needs time off. Maybe she was burnt out?"
"Possibly, but I know you're smarter than that. There's something about the note and the way someone left it," he said conspiratorially. "I smell a significant story here."
"So your question was an observation and conjecture?" she pressed.
"Mostly. There's something going on behind the scenes. I mean, she was involved in the huge scandal with Elizabeth Davies' brother a couple of months ago. They caught Reece Gabriel in photos getting out of the club Dominatrix's car."
"Interesting," she said, scribbling furiously on her notepad.
"Are you sure you won't give me an exclusive on the record interview for this case?" Bob pressed.
"Sorry, Bob. Like I told everyone the other day, based on our analysis, the whole thing is a hoax. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for everything else."
"Yeah, in DC they call it a coverup. A word you should put in your vocabulary."
"Noted. Thanks for your time."
"Remember me when you've got something juicy, Detective. You know the media can be your best friend and your worst enemy."
"I'm well aware, but thanks for the warning."
With that, she clicked off the call and stared down at her notes. This day was getting more complicated by the minute.
Jessica rubbed her throbbing temples. The ache in her shoulder screamed in tight agony. For the last few hours she'd stared at the computer monitor, scrolling through every possible piece of information she could dig up about the club owner, Alexandra. Each trail led to one dead end after another, and she thought the whole trail was a bust, except for the fact two names kept catching her attention in the searches. An Atlas Devereaux, the public relations manager for the club, and an Edmund Hurter, a near business genius who also happened to be a member of the club. There was nothing on either of them which would normally make them stand out among the hundreds of club member. No, the only thing which bothered her on an intuitive level was the fact that both of them were currently out of town 'on business.' This meant either they were lovers and off on a long holiday because the club owner didn't need her PR manager's services or she was missing something important.
Her left hand ran along her neck, and she could hear the fit her massage therapist would once again pitch. Every muscle from her mid-back up had knots with knots on them. It's where she carried her stress, but there was little time between cases and life to keep the knots at bay.
The vibration of her phone made her jerk in surprise as the alarm rang out in the now quiet bullpen. Jessica looked around, but the normally bustling bullpen was empty. With a deep breath, she slid her finger across the screen on her phone to silence the light tinkling sound. Under her finger, the screen announced the time to be five forty-five.
She chuckled to herself.
They must be really bored in this place, she thought, standing up from her desk and stretching her tight body. Better give them a good show then.
With one final look at the computer screen, she jotted down a name and address, then turned off the computer. Jessica gathered up her notes and shoved them into her bag. Hoisting it onto her shoulder, she looked down at her suit and hoped it wouldn't be too tattered after the upcoming match since she'd not packed any sparring clothes. One day her mouth was going to write a check her body couldn't cash, and she was just hoping today was not that day.
Jessica turned and walked toward the onsite gym. The soft click of her heels echoed off walls like the last march to an execution. A few feet from the gym door, the mumble of excited voices was undeniable, and she knew the entire department had come to watch the spectacle.
With one last deep breath to calm her nerves, she heaved open the gym door. The rousing noise fell completely silent as all eyes turned to her. Like the entrance of a gladiator, she knew the next few minutes would either please the crowd or seal her fate. The crowd parted and created a path straight to the sparring ring. In the center, Ben Matthews stopped stretching and glared at her.
Calmly, she walked to the edge of the ring and set her bag down outside the edge of the mat. Jessica slipped out of her heels and dropped another two inches. The floor felt cool against her flushed skin. Without taking her eyes off her opponent, she shrugged her jacket from her shoulders and folded it. Pulling her shoulder harness off, she placed it on top of the jacket and laid the bundle on her shoes.
"Why aren't you changed?" Ben snarled. "I thought you wanted to fight."
"I wanted no such thing; however, you pushed us into this situation with your chest beating. So here I am, ready to finish this so I can get on with my evening."
Each word was meant to goad him, and based on his expression, she'd landed her mark.
"You can't fight in that," he said, pointing to her.
"Sure I can. Last time I checked, perps don't let me stop and change clothes just because they want to fight. How is this any different?"
"I thought you wanted to spar."
"You mean you think you're going to kick my ass and you don't want me using the excuse that my clothes were inappropriate for the match when you do," she corrected.
Ben murmured something incomprehensible.
"Shall we?" Jessica said, motioning to the mat.
Ben nodded.
"Anything off limits, or is this a no-holds-barred, out on the street situation?" she asked with a calm she didn't feel.
"No biting, no spitting," Ben replied, his nostrils flaring in agitation.
"Okay. No biting, no spitting. Anything else off limits?"
"The loser can't whine or sulk."
"Fair," Jessica said with a nod. "How do we define a winner?"
Ben's face screwed up in thought.
"The one who is still conscious," he snarled and then smiled menacingly.
Chapter Seven
"Hello, big boy," Samantha purred as she walked into the room.
"Unless you've got a great piece of PR, a way to stop this stalking business, or you've decided to take the helm of this club, get out," Kade growled without lifting his head from the papers on his desk.
"Oof. Someone's cranky. Maybe a bit of play would help your sullen mood," she replied on her way to pour herself a drink.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she moved around the room. Unlike Jessica, she didn't take up space or have an air about her. It wasn't a lack of confidence, but it was different. Jessica was hard and firm on the outside. It didn't matter that she was a foot shorter than him, there was something about her which lit up the room.
"I've got neither the time nor the inclination for play of any sort right now. In case you've not been paying attention, there's a crisis going on around here."
The lead broke off the end of his pencil, and he wanted to throw it across the room. Instead, he restrained the urge and looked up to watch Samantha.
"All work and no play make Kade horrible to deal with," she said as she sat down on the sofa.
Kade pushed away from his desk, grabbed his bottle of water, and walked to his normal seat across from Samantha. Images of Jessica in his chair flooded his mind. Her small frame had been engulfed by it, yet she still looked regal and street tough all at the same time.
"I'll play when this mess is over. Now, please tell me you can at least do the PR lift on this latest issue."
Samantha's face screwed up in irritation. "Dare you doubt me, Mr. Kinkaid?"
"Careful," he warned.
"Ah, yes. I'd apologize, but it was rather appropriate this time."
He said nothing in reply, staring at her until she continued.
"I've reached out to several news agencie
s to get any information they've dug up. Like we suspected, it's all speculative other than the anonymous tip. The location sensationalized the story, but you already knew that."
She gave him a chance to ask questions, but when he didn't respond she continued with a huff. "I've heard the detective's been digging around through quite a number of backgrounds. You need to make sure she's on our team. Besides, she's really hot. Do you know if she's into all this?"
"Down girl," Kade said with a shake of his head. "She's a police detective on a case. You know mixing business with pleasure would be a mess."
"Or you'd be all over it," Samantha said with a chuckle.
"Neither here nor there. These are the circumstances we are in."
"You know, I liked you so much better when you weren't this sullen."
"I like me much better when one of my best friends and protectees wasn't being stalked by a megalomaniac with more money than a small country, the fate of a business I don't even know how to run wasn't sitting on my shoulders, and I didn't worry about the lives of everyone walking through the front door."
"You mean it used to be easier when the worst issue you faced were paparazzi trying to cause a scandal or someone being stupid in one of the play rooms," Samantha replied.
Kade nodded.
"You've got to find a release, Kade. Even Alexandra had a release valve when all those masks got to her."
He took a long sip of water and let the memories rush over him.
"It's not quite that simple for someone in my position. No one can question my authority even if hitting my knees for a woman were in the cards. Right now I am the face of this club."
"And that is scary with a mug like yours." Samantha grinned.
Kade chuckled. "Looked in the mirror lately?"
"Ouch," she said as she pulled out a compact and dramatically powdered her nose. "At least you still have a sense of humor. I was beginning to worry it was too late for you."
"It takes far more than this 'little' thing to kill me off. Besides, someone's got to keep your ass in line or this place will be in shambles when Alexandra gets back."
"I'm not that bad!"
"We'll agree to disagree. Sounds like you've got everything on your end well in hand."
"I've got a lot of support through all of this. I'm lucky to have so many partners supporting me," Samantha said.
"It takes a village," Kade replied with a grin.
A soft knock on the door interrupted them.
"Mr. Kinkaid, a Detective Lawson is here to see you," Katie, Alexandra's assistant, said from the door. He was more than thankful for her help in keeping everything afloat, but he still found her presence and announcements unnerving.
"Please send her in," he replied and stood to turn to the door.
Jessica limped through the door. A large bruise was blossoming across her cheek and her left eye was swollen.
Everything in Kade ran cold. All he wanted to do was protect her. Take care of her and then wipe out the person who'd dared lay a finger on her. He started toward her but stopped when she held up a hand.
"Don't say a word," she warned.
"Jessica, are you okay? Is there anything I can get you?" he asked, his voice laced with an edge.
With her one good eye, she glared at him, and he fell silent.
Samantha stepped around him in a breezy move and walked over to Jessica.
"I'm Samantha, the club's PR person," she said, sticking out her hand.
The two shook, but the tension in Jessica's frame didn't ease.
"The club's PR person? I thought an Atlas Devereaux was the club's PR manager," she asked with suspicion.
"She is, but she's out of town on business. We're partners at the PR firm McKenzie-Kingston here on the grounds."
"How long has Ms. Devereaux been away on business?" Jessica probed.
"A few months now. She and Alexandra are exploring other business opportunities for expansion," Samantha answered smoothly, but Kade noticed the tension forming in her shoulders.
"Expansion for the club or the PR business?"
"The club's base company, I think. Do you mind if I asked what happened?" Samantha replied to change the conversation.
"I got in a tiff with someone."
"Quite the tiff. Who won?"
"I don't think fighting ever gives a winner or loser," she said, moving her hand over her own body as if to demonstrate her point. "But suffice to say, I took his breath away."
"Okay. On that note, I will exit stage right and get out of the way. I'm sure you've got quite a bit to fill Mr. Kinkaid in on with the case and all. It was nice meeting you, Detective," Samantha said in a rush on her way out the door.
Before anyone could form a reply, she was gone.
"Is she always like that?" Jessica asked.
"Samantha is an acquired taste. Mostly harmless with exceptional skills in many areas, but it takes quite a few people to keep her together," Kade said with a smile. "But I know you didn't come all the way down here to discuss the staff."
Kade stepped out of the conversation area and motioned for her to sit while he walked across the office to his desk. He pulled the second desk drawer open to reveal a well-stocked first aid kit.
Jessica settled into the large chair with slow, stiff movements. It was a familiar move. More than once he'd done the same carefully choreographed dance to sit down after a bar fight and one too many drinks.
Grabbing a pack of pain medicine, two ice packs, and a bandage, he walked back toward the conversation area and picked up a bottle of water on the way. As he sat down on the seat across from Jessica, he twisted one of the chemical ice packs until it gave a resounding pop and handed it to her.
"I'm not your ward, charge, or protectee, Mr. Kinkaid. I am more than capable of taking care of myself."
"Detective, of that I have no doubt; however, you're on my turf and thus my concern until you leave," he challenged, shoving the ice pack toward her.
Jessica rolled her eyes, but the effect was cut in half due to significant swelling. Kade wanted to laugh but thought better of it.
"Here's a bottle of water. Since this club caters to pain, you can choose to partake of the pain medicine or leave it to nature. Whatever makes you happy," he said with a smirk and set the package of pills next to the water bottle.
He watched her flinch when she placed the ice pack against her face. Everything in him wanted to take away her pain, but she wasn't the first fiercely stubborn woman he'd met. The best course of action was to provide the way out of the pain and wait to see what else she needed.
Jessica picked up the pill pack and handed it to him. The small gesture spoke volumes, but Kade knew better than to read into it. For a few minutes the outside world was easier, and everything in him grew quiet.
With ease, he ripped open the pill back, poured the two pills into his hand, and reached it back out to her. When she'd downed the pain medicine, she settled back in the chair. Even in her disheveled state, she was beautiful.
"If you'll allow me, I can stabilize that ankle. I'm banking you've sprained it," he said and held up the bandage. "And in case you really want to argue, it'll just be easier if you let me take care of it."
He watched her shoulders fall. Exhaustion was written all over her body. With the slightest nod, she acquiesced.
Kade smiled. He rose from the couch and pushed the coffee table out of the way. Grabbing the sides of the large chair, he pulled it toward him and leaned over her small form. She smelled like home. Everything about her called to him. His body stirred unbidden, and he bit back a groan.
"I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Kinkaid," she whispered as she stared up into his eyes with an intensity that matched his own.
"You've made that abundantly clear, Detective."
Their faces hovered inches apart. Neither one moved as their breaths exchanged in their closeness.
He watched her hand wrap around his tie. Everything in him wanted to lean forw
ard and devour her swollen lips, but years of training and self-discipline had him waiting for her next move.
"Well," Jessica said hoarsely, "this is a pleasant surprise."
"What?" Kade asked with genuine confusion.
"You are inches from me. My hand is entangled in your tie. From the response of your body, you want to move forward, and yet you hold steady inches away."
Kade smiled. "Not everything is what it seems inside these walls," he replied cryptically.
She pulled on his tie, bringing him closer. Her lips brushed against his, and he let her take the lead, not wanting to ruin the moment. Jessica pulled harder on the tie. The unexpected move off-balanced him, and he braced harder against the chair so as not to land on top of her.
He let his touch lick gently across her bruised lips. She opened them and stroked his tongue with her own in a gentle kiss. A moment later, Jessica met him with a hungry kiss. Other than her fingers on his tie, her body didn't move. She controlled the depth with the pull and release of pressure on the small fabric around his neck.
Everything else disappeared. He gave over to her demands as their kiss deepened. A low groan escaped from his throat. His cock throbbed with need, but he refused to move unless Jessica pulled him toward her.
The kiss moved back to a soft, gentle caress. Images of her soft lips moving painstakingly slowly across his body danced in his head. Kade pushed past the fact they were supposed to only be working on the current case. He wanted to grab her and feel every inch of her body. To slip his aching cock into her until they were both satiated and satisfied.
Every fantasy he'd ever had seemed to materialize in front of him Keeping still challenged him in ways he'd not experienced since his first heady days in the scene. The sweet torture of her soft caress moving to a demanding kiss and back again scrambled his rational thoughts.
When he didn't think he could take another second, she pushed on his chest, and he stood up. Kade looked down at her small frame. Her face was flushed and there was a hint of satisfaction for a long moment before she shuttered it.
The realization of their situation seemed to hit her hard and fast. Jessica adjusted in the chair and pulled on her jacket to straighten it.
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