The Playboy Meets His Match

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The Playboy Meets His Match Page 7

by Sara Orwig


  She nodded. “I’ll keep it to myself. It does raise my opinion of you somewhat.”

  He grinned that fabulous grin and shot her another quick look. “I thought I was right down there with the snakes in your book.”

  She had to smile in return. “Nope. Dorian’s down with the snakes. You were a little higher in my esteem, but you’ve gone a little higher still since I know you are something besides a spoiled, rich playboy.”

  “Ouch! Look, I work. I hope I’m not spoiled—shoot, I might as well save my breath because I know I’m not changing your opinion.” Another quick look shot her way. “I take it you’re not exactly on poverty row since you booked two rooms at the Royalton and rented an apartment. You can choose your work assignments as you please.”

  She flushed and was glad it was dark inside the pickup so he couldn’t see her. “I earn a living,” she said.

  “You graduated from college about five years ago?” he guessed.

  “No. As a matter of fact, I enrolled at Texas University, went one year and landed a part-time job. Then I went home to a summer job that paid so much I never went back to college. But I’m going to get my degree,” she said, fierce determination welling up in her. “I’m taking a correspondence course now. I’ll get my degree.”

  “I’m sure you will if you put your mind to it.”

  “What did you major in?” she asked.

  “Political science with a minor in animal husbandry.”

  “That’s a weird combination.”

  “I needed both in my life.”

  They talked about college years and earlier until Jason turned the truck into his ranch. This time he parked in the garage, a distance from the house. When they entered his kitchen, he punched the alarm so swiftly, she wasn’t certain of the numbers.

  “It doesn’t matter whether you got that combination or not—you won’t slip past this one when it’s set.”

  “I don’t intend to try,” she said, drawing herself up and receiving a disarming grin.

  He reached out to brush her jaw lightly with his knuckles and she drew a deep breath. “I’m glad that scrape is healing.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “We’re not enemies?” he asked, his voice lowering a notch and a heated look warming his eyes.

  “No,” she said, aware he stood too close and she should move away, but she was rooted to the floor.

  “Friends, then?” he asked, his hand stroking her throat.

  “I suppose so,” she whispered. Summoning all her willpower, she turned away from him. “Where do I put my things?”

  “I’ll put them.” He picked up both suitcases and carried them to the bedroom that she had stayed in before. In a short time she was seated on his large leather sofa again, curled up in a corner and he was seated facing her only a little over a foot away.

  “I’ve been thinking about all you told me. Did anyone question where Dorian was at the time of the murder?” she asked.

  “He has an alibi—he was at the Royal Diner. Laura Edwards, a waitress there backed up his story.”

  “Another woman in love with Dorian.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You only have to look at the two of them together.” Merry took a deep breath. “Why don’t you let me help you catch Dorian?”

  He gave her a smile that was as condescending as a pat on the head. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? It looks to me as if you could use a little help.”

  “Your style is a little flamboyant. Right now he doesn’t know he’s under suspicion.”

  “It doesn’t have to be flamboyant. I can be subtle.”

  “Thanks, anyway.”

  Jason was beginning to annoy her again. “If you can get me into Wescott Oil, I can get into Dorian’s computer files.”

  Jason lowered his bottle of beer, set it back on the table and gazed at her patronizingly. “In a word—no. Thanks, anyway.”

  “You don’t think I can do it,” she challenged.

  He shrugged broad shoulders. “No, I don’t. You’re into slashing tires and bursting into private clubs.”

  “I slipped out of here without your knowing it and got away with your pickup and eluded you all day.”

  “It was the luck of the amateur.”

  “Well, it sounds to me as if you guys are suffering the incompetence of the too-well-trained.”

  Amusement flashed in Jason’s eyes while he shook his head. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to town with me and buy a new computer. You can help me set it up here in my ranch office. I’ll pay your going rate, of course. Okay?”

  “Yes. Now back to Dorian. If you’ll get me into Wescott, I can look at his files and I might learn something none of you know.”

  “You can’t get into his files.”

  “Hah! It’s an oil company.”

  “They have their computer people who are specialists.”

  “I can get into his files.”

  “You’re mighty confident.”

  “I know my abilities and my limitations,” Meredith said, hoping she could live up to her promises, but she thought she could.

  The ring of the phone interrupted their conversation and Jason stretched out his long arm to pick up the receiver. He stood and turned his back to her, lowering his voice and moving a few feet away so she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  He turned, glancing over his shoulder at her with a direct, annoyed look.

  Dorian. Intuitively, she was certain the call was about Dorian. The man deserved a little upset in his life. If what she suspected were true about him, he deserved far worse than anything she had dealt him.

  Jason replaced the receiver and turned to face her, his hands on his hips. “You’re not accomplishing one thing except to aggravate Dorian.”

  She raised her chin and refused to bother defending herself.

  “You put chili peppers in Dorian’s dinner. What in blazes did you think that would do other than make him angry?”

  “What makes you think I did any such thing?”

  “Oh, come on—that was Keith, who was in the pharmacy when Dorian charged in. He was breaking out with hives because someone had laced his dinner with chili peppers. You’re wasting your time, aggravating him and getting his guard up, and getting in the way of our investigation.”

  “So you are investigating what happened?”

  “That’s between you and me—if you can be trusted.”

  “You can trust me, but why don’t you let me help you?”

  “Why don’t you stop doing these ridiculous things?” he shot back, sitting down again to face her. “You’re not solving anything or helping your sister either.”

  His words stung because she knew he was right. Meredith wound her fingers together and looked at them. “I know you’re right, but it was so terrible to watch Holly suffer and know that Dorian was getting off scot-free.”

  “Give it up and leave him to us,” Jason said grimly.

  “Maybe I’m going about this all wrong, but I didn’t know Dorian might be involved in murder. I’ll stop annoying him.”

  “Good. Do I have your promise?”

  “Yes, but you should let me get to his computer. You’re trying to catch a murderer here and whatever has happened is tied into Wescott Oil in some manner. Money was taken, a man was murdered. Let me look at Dorian’s computer files.”

  “Dorian has an alibi. He couldn’t have committed the murder.”

  “Yet you suspect him anyway.”

  “Yeah, maybe so. But breaking into his computer is illegal.”

  She gave him a look. “So is murder.”

  As Jason raked his fingers through his hair, Meredith watched dark locks spring back into place and remembered when she had touched the back of his head and his hair had curled over her hand.

  He turned to stretch out his arm and snagged the phone again, placing a call.

  “Sebastian, it’s Jason. I’ve got Merry Silver here with m
e.” He paused, listening. “That’s right. I want to ask you something. Is there any way you can get us into Wescott Oil so she can look at Dorian’s computer files?”

  She waited, unable to fathom much from Jason’s side of the conversation except that Sebastian was not enthused. Obviously, neither man believed she could get into Dorian’s computer files and neither thought it worth the trouble to let her try.

  Finally Jason replaced the receiver and turned to her. “How badly do you want to look at his files?”

  “How badly do you want to catch him if he’s the murderer?”

  “Sebastian will help us, but he said there is no way he can get us into the building after-hours. We’re on our own.”

  “What do you mean—‘we’re on our own’?”

  “If you want into Dorian’s office, we’re going to have to break into Wescott Oil like burglars.”

  Five

  “Why can’t Sebastian just let us in?”

  “He doesn’t want to be seen with us. I don’t blame him and I don’t want him involved. Remember, he was recently arrested and I’m certain he’s still being watched, so he shouldn’t be seen with us.”

  “I understand.”

  “Up to a point, if we’re caught, you’ve got a reputation in town for doing wild and crazy things, so I think we can talk our way out of trouble with the law. If a security guard finds you looking at Dorian’s private files, that’s another matter. And I don’t want us to get caught. If Dorian has done what we suspect, we’re crossing a dangerous man.”

  A chill raced down her spine as she thought about how much she had already antagonized Dorian. “So we’re on our own.”

  “Basically. Sebastian will come out tomorrow and bring a map of the offices and building. He’ll go over everything with us and he’s going to unlock a back gate, but we have to get ourselves in and out of the building. Sebastian said you’ll never get into the files. They have a highly sophisticated, hacker-proof system.”

  Eagerness bubbled in her to get her fingers on Dorian’s computer. “I’ll bet you a steak dinner that I get in.”

  “Deal,” he said, studying her. “You’re sure of yourself.”

  “When it comes to computers.”

  “I know computer types—you’ll get engrossed in what you’re doing and lose all sense of time. You can have twenty minutes to get into his files. If you can’t access them during that time, we’re getting out of there.”

  “If we get past the guard, we should have plenty of time.”

  “I don’t want to take that chance. Twenty minutes. That’s it.” Jason lifted locks of her hair and curled them around his fingers. “Still game?”

  “Yes, I am. If Dorian’s guilty of murder, I want him caught,” she said forcefully.

  “You have strong feelings, Merry.”

  “I shouldn’t have done what I did to him. It was foolish, but I hate how he hurt my little sister. I couldn’t watch her suffer and not do anything.”

  “You have to let go. She’s all grown up now.”

  “I know, but it’s hard,” she said, thinking of Holly. Jason pulled her into a gentle embrace and Merry looked up at him, relishing his arms around her, knowing he was right. She had to let go. Holly was a grown woman. As Merry gazed into Jason’s eyes, all thoughts of Dorian or breaking into Wescott Oil fled.

  What had been a comforting hug transformed. Sparks ignited, and her breath caught.

  Jason’s green eyes darkened, desire as easy to see as if he had spoken his feelings. Her pulse drummed. She wanted him desperately with a need she had never known before. This man was special, incredibly appealing no matter how dangerous he was to her well-being.

  As he watched her, Jason wrapped his hand behind her head and pulled her closer, leaning toward her while her heart jumped. Her hands went up to rest on his arms and then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her.

  Heat swept over her, and she leaned into him, kissing him in return while his strong arm banded her waist and he shifted her to his lap. His tongue stroked hers, and her roaring pulse shut out all other sounds. When her hand drifted to his chest, she felt his pounding heart. She wanted this tall, strong Texan, but she knew it was impossible and a threat to her future happiness. She would end up like her sister, with a broken heart and hopeless longings. Jason had made clear his feelings on commitment and Merry knew, even as she kissed him back passionately, that the only kind of relationship she wanted was one that would be permanent.

  She pushed against Jason’s chest and slipped off his lap. “Jason, you’ll complicate my life, and we’re not remotely compatible. You and I can’t date each other.”

  “I don’t know why not,” he said gruffly, looking at her with so much scalding desire in his eyes that her will turned to slush.

  “I want one thing. You want another. You don’t want commitment. I do.”

  A shuttered look altered his expression, she could feel him withdrawing from her even though he hadn’t moved a muscle. “Whatever you want, Merry,” he said roughly. “I never go where I’m not wanted.”

  “I’m sure that’s the truth,” she stated, thinking it was a sin for him to be so handsome and charming when his attitude was so solitary.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, standing and leaving the room in a rush, afraid if she stayed any longer to talk, she would be right back in his lap.

  The following night, butterflies danced in Merry’s stomach as Jason slowed the truck behind the block that held the Wescott Oil building.

  Landscaped grounds spread in front of the building and there were parking lots along one side and in the back. At the deserted side of the building, they stepped out of Jason’s truck and crept to a locked chain-link gate. Jason reached through and carefully removed the partially open padlock.

  Sebastian had said the back gate was rarely used and he would unfasten the padlock, certain the guard would merely give it a cursory glance when he did his rounds.

  They slid through the gate, hurried to the dark shadows by the building and crept around to the front, which was well lit. They were both dressed in black. Merry’s first glimpse of Jason in the dark shirt, black jeans and boots that emphasized his black hair, and made his blue-green eyes seem deep green had sent her heart hammering overtime.

  In spite of the danger, it was difficult to keep her attention focused on their mission.

  “You stay here,” he directed, leaving Merry in the shadows near the front door.

  Jason had purchased a cheap, noisy horn that he could easily activate. He had set it up with a battery operated timer, and she watched as he disappeared behind a car in the almost deserted lot. In minutes he came sprinting to join her.

  “It should go off in one more minute. Your suggestion to put a couple of empty beer cans nearby should make the guard think kids were playing a prank. He’ll have to get down on his knees to shut the thing off.”

  As Merry stood beside Jason, she could see the night guard sitting at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine.

  While they waited, Jason stood close, his hand on her arm and she was only half aware of the danger of their situation, more aware of the danger to her heart from the cowboy at her side.

  As they had made their plans, Merry had considered that these first few minutes would be their most vulnerable, and now her racing pulse could not slow.

  Shattering the quiet night, the horn began a continuous, raucous blast. The security guard moved cautiously around the desk, paused at the door to peer outside and then stepped out. With his hand resting on his pistol, he crossed the parking lot. Moving cautiously he peered between the two cars and then disappeared as he knelt down.

  “Let’s go!” Merry said without waiting. Jason ran beside her and they made a stealthy dash, sliding through the front door and racing around a corner out of sight. At any second, she expected to hear a yell from the guard, but the only sound was their footfalls.

  When Jason stopped abruptly, she bumped against hi
m. He steadied her, pulling her close against his side as he pointed toward a door to the stairs. They moved more slowly, opening and closing the door without a sound. She was surprised how easily Jason managed all this—as if it were second nature to him.

  They made the long climb to the executive floor, the tenth story of the building where the offices were spacious, elegant and locked. At the top floor she noticed Jason wasn’t winded. He glanced at her. “You weren’t kidding about working out. You just climbed ten flights without difficulty.”

  “So did you.”

  “I should have known from that first night,” he remarked dryly and she grinned, remembering how she had caught him by surprise and knocked him flat. Her grin vanished as he hurried to a door and efficiently picked the lock.

  In seconds he was through the outer door to the offices and then he was through Dorian’s locked office door. Silent and dark, the empty office made Merry realize she was crossing a line now herself—taking risks to catch a criminal, but involving Jason, too.

  He moved with the quiet certainty of a cat, and, again, she wondered about Jason’s past. Then her thoughts shifted to the office and the task at hand. Walnut paneling, sheer drapes, oil paintings, crushed velvet upholstery surrounded a mammoth oak desk.

  She studied Jason as he moved unhesitatingly to the desk and checked the drawers. “For a cowboy, you’re very adept at breaking and entering.”

  She received another fabulous grin. “I retired recently from another job. I worked for the government,” he said with a wink, and she realized how very little she knew about the man.

  “Here’s the computer,” he announced, opening a cabinet and swiveling Dorian’s chair around. “Do your thing. I’ll stand guard. If I say someone’s coming, you get out of here immediately. Just get out and get back to my car no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Agreed, Merry?”

  “Yes,” she answered, looking into his solemn gaze.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise. I don’t know what you think I’ll do.”

  “We don’t have time for me to tell you.”

 

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