A Score to Settle (11 page)

He caressed her ears with his thumbs, sending violent shivers all the way down to her toes.

His tongue darted into her mouth, and Jamie sensed the taste of the fine Scotch, which had somehow trans-muted to a pleasant flavor when mingled with Daniel’s unique essence. His soap or aftershave—something that smelled like a fresh spring morning after a rain—teased her nose.

Jamie was dimly aware of a noise toward the front of the plane.

“Whoa. Excuse me.”

Daniel pulled away abruptly, and Jamie felt as if she’d just come to the surface of a very deep and dark pool. Gasping for breath, she glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Cora retreating into the galley.

She huffed out a nervous laugh as Daniel stared first at the door where Cora had disappeared, then at her, his expression impossible to read. Irritation? Relief? Embarrassment?

Looking for something to do with her suddenly empty hands, she went to work repairing the damage to her hair, finding the discarded clip and finger-combing the unruly strands. “Why do I suddenly feel like a teenager who got caught necking in the backseat of a car?”

“Possibly because we’ve just done something idiotic, in front of a witness?” Daniel grabbed his forgotten drink and drained it.

Idiotic?
How about
earth-moving? Life-altering?
She’d never known any simple kiss to completely shatter her like that one did, but apparently it meant little to Daniel.

Women probably threw themselves at him all the time. Had she thrown herself at him? No, but she certainly hadn’t played hard to get.

The way she felt now—it was untenable. She wouldn’t be able to endure his company without thinking about what happened just now.

“Maybe,” she said carefully, “it
would
be better if I dealt with one of your associates from now on.”

“It’s all right, Daniel. I’m to blame as much as you.” She’d dug a small zippered bag from her briefcase and was busy repairing the damage he’d done to her lipstick. She wouldn’t look at him.

He probably had her makeup all over his face, too. He grabbed a paper napkin from the bar and wiped his face. It came back streaked with the rusty-pink shade she wore. It smelled slightly of her teasing scent, too. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

“Maybe you’re right. Raleigh is very good at negotiating her way around prisons. She can probably smooth over what happened today and arrange another meeting.”

Failure didn’t sit well with him. In his youth, everything he’d touched had turned golden. Grades and sports came easily. Any woman he wanted was his for the asking. With the exception of his first restaurant, his businesses thrived.

Even after Andreas’s murder, all through incarceration and trial, the guilty verdict and the failed appeals, he’d somehow known he would triumph.

True, he wasn’t the same man he’d been before prison. But he hadn’t lost his drive, and when he was passionate about something, he applied himself and made it happen.

Though his father had died when Project Justice was in its infancy, Daniel had single-handedly molded it into the vision they’d shared, as a tribute to the man who had never lost faith in him. He was accustomed to winning, even if he had lost the feeling of joy he used to have.

This business of failure didn’t feel good.

“I’ll still be involved,” he said. Because if he wasn’t involved, how else was he going to make sure the person who framed him paid the price for his crime? “But day to day, you’ll be dealing with Raleigh. I’ll bring her up to speed as quickly as possible.”

“Whatever you think is best.” She didn’t sound any happier than he felt about it.

Daniel made his way forward and tapped on the galley door. Cora opened it. “Yes?”

“Coast is clear.”

Cora smiled nervously and followed him into the main cabin. “I was just going to ask if you folks wanted a snack.”

“I’m not really very hungry, thank you, Cora. Jamie?”

“I’m starving,” she admitted.

Hmm. Usually he had to force-feed her.

Cora disappeared once again into the galley, which Daniel knew was fully equipped to facilitate the preparation of gourmet meals for up to ten people.

But Cora, who was fully capable of said gourmet meal, instead produced two fancy cloth bags that bore the logo of AirKitchens, handing one to each of them.

Daniel gave Cora a questioning look. “Airline food?”

“Jillian said for such a short flight, I shouldn’t go to the bother of cooking. Did I do the wrong thing?”

“No, this is fine, Cora,” he said soothingly.

Jillian again. If she didn’t curb this jealous streak of hers, she was going to end up unemployed, never mind her long history with the family.

“Are you set for beverages?” Cora asked.

“Yes. Thanks again.”

She quietly retreated.

Daniel sat across from Jamie, pulled out a tray table and examined the contents of the bag. Some kind of sandwich, bag of chips, a brownie and apple juice.

Jamie dumped out her bag and went straight for the brownie. She ate it as if she hadn’t had chocolate in years. Bolting down a brownie was so unlike her usual behavior that he had to laugh.

“You might think a lot of Chef Claude’s tiramisu,” she said between bites, “but this brownie is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Maybe it was the aftereffect of being inside the prison walls. Everyone tended to take freedom for granted until they were forced to consider what the lack of it meant.

Or maybe she was substituting chocolate for sex.

He pulled at the cellophane around the brownie and stuffed some of the dessert into his mouth. Not bad for airplane food. But certainly no substitute for having Jamie naked and writhing beneath him.

God, he would miss her.

After they landed, Jamie was surprised to find two cars waiting to shuttle them off to their separate destinations. Her heart sank; she’d been counting on those last few minutes, riding in the limo together, to mentally say her goodbyes to Daniel.

Working on this case with him had stimulated her in every way—physically, intellectually, emotionally. She hadn’t realized what she’d been missing, slaving away in her little cubicle at the D.A.’s office, methodically clearing cases, pleading them out when she could, going to trial when she had to.

Most of them were cut-and-paste cases. An intriguing murder, like ones Daniel and Christopher had been charged with, came along very rarely in a prosecutor’s life.

She didn’t want Daniel to hand the case over to someone else. But she also didn’t want to subject him to any more of the emotional trauma he’d gone through today.

At some point, Daniel might actually be required to testify before a judge, depending on what they found and how they found it—especially if she managed to conclusively tie the two cases together.

“I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Jamie,” Daniel said. “We’ll talk again soon. Meanwhile, expect to hear from Raleigh.”

“All right. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, too.” At least those parts of him he was willing to show her. He kept a lot of himself hidden away.

He took her hand and clasped it between his. “Take care, okay?”

“Yeah. You, too.” Her voice cracked, giving her away.

“This way, Ms. McNair.” Randall led her toward the Bentley. “Celeste will drive you home.”

“Celeste? Who is she?”

“One of Daniel’s most trusted employees. Don’t let appearances fool you. You’ll be safe with her.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Though Randall tried to open the Bentley’s back door, Jamie climbed into the passenger seat. “I’ve had enough
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
today, so don’t argue with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He made sure she was safely inside and closed her door. Only then did she look over at her new driver.

Good night.
The woman was well into her seventies, judging from all the creases in her face and the wild, gray hair, which she’d tried and failed to tame with a series of little-girl barrettes. She wore a blousy top splashed with loud red poinsettias and green leggings tucked into black boots that reached above her knees.

“Hello, dear. I’m Celeste Boggs, office manager and head of security at Project Justice.” With that, one of those amazing boots hit the gas, and the Bentley shot forward like a rocket. “Woo-hoo, always wanted to drive me one of these.”

Jamie grabbed on to the door handle. “It sounds like you have a lot of responsibility at Project Justice.”

“The place would fall apart without me.”

“I’m sorry to have taken you away from your normal job, then.”

“It’s no problem. In fact, I volunteered. I wanted to see firsthand the woman who got Daniel off his estate. Twice in a week’s time.”

Jamie wasn’t sure if Celeste approved or not. She drove 70 mph down the farm-to-market road that led from the airport to the freeway and whooped every time the Bentley hit a bump and nearly became airborne.

“Tell the truth now,” Celeste said. “Are you and Daniel doin’ the horizontal mambo?”

“What? No! In fact, I probably won’t be seeing him again.”

“Really.” Celeste sounded as if she didn’t believe Jamie.

“He’s handing over our project to another person, so we won’t be working together anymore. It wasn’t working out.”

“So you’re dropping him like a hot rock?”

Jamie was startled by Celeste’s hostility. “I’m not ‘dropping’ him. It was his decision to pull back.” Well, a mutual decision, anyway.

“So you’re not working together anymore. Does that mean you can’t see him anymore?”

“Celeste, we aren’t personally involved.”

“Huh, you might not think you are. But these last couple of weeks, Daniel’s been a completely different man.”

“Different…how?” she felt compelled to ask.

“Alive. Oh, technically he was alive before. Walking, talking, breathing, letting Skeletor move him around like a piece on a chessboard.”

“Skeletor?”

“Jillian, I mean. Girl could use some meat on her bones, that’s all,” Celeste muttered. “But he was more like a walking corpse. Just going through the motions of living.

“But since he met you—he’s a different man. He
cares
about stuff now. He smiles, he’s excited, he’s like the old Daniel. You walk out of his life, he’ll go back to being corpse man again.”

Jamie was flabbergasted. Surely Celeste was exaggerating. How much did she even see of Daniel?

“I think it’s working on the case that has, er, exhilarated him,” Jamie said carefully. “He’ll still be involved, just not running the show.”

“I beg to disagree. It’s you. He needs a real woman in his life. Why not you?”

Jamie screamed as Celeste swerved to avoid a rabbit that dashed across the road. “Would you like to hear the reasons alphabetically or in order of importance?”

“A lot of women would kill to be in your position.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to want a relationship.” She softened when she recognized the look of worry and concern on Celeste’s face. “Look, it’s not that I don’t think Daniel is a good man. But for many reasons, pursuing a relationship with him would be…unwise. What if it didn’t work out?”

“That’s the risk in any relationship, isn’t it?” Celeste sounded quite sane all of a sudden.

“But the fallout…with Daniel…” She stopped short of pointing out that Celeste’s boss had issues. And she didn’t want to become one of them.

“Do you consider him a friend?” Celeste asked.

“Yes.” She’d realized that just today.

“If you don’t want to date him, he could use a friend. He doesn’t have many, you know. It’s hard for someone in his position to make friends. Everybody wants something from him. Or they’re afraid of offending him.”

“He has you. And Randall, and Cora and Claude, and all the people at Project Justice. He holds you all in such high esteem.”

“I do count Daniel as a friend. But I’m also his employee. We’re not equals. You see yourself as his equal, and that’s rare.”

She didn’t want to come out and tell Celeste that after such a mind-bending kiss, she didn’t think she could be “just friends” with Daniel.

“It’s not my decision to make. If Daniel wants any further dealings with me, he has my phone number.”

“And he’ll be too proud to dial it.”