Hands On (7 page)

Her scent alone was enough to drive him crazy. Sweet and sexy and sinful all at once. Man, he had to stay on guard every minute, really focus or he was going to blow this fluff case. Talk about getting egg on his face.

He checked out the directory and went to the database program, although Bask would be an idiot to leave evidence there. Which didn't mean there wouldn't be clues. He found some more names and addresses, and downloaded the files into the disk he'd brought with him. Then he looked for correspondence. By the time he'd read the first several, he realized they were all form letters, and the names on them were the same ones in the database.

One final check for anything in the word processing program and then he had to get out of Dodge. But before he did, he made sure he erased his trail. No need to take any more risks than he already had.

 

C
ASSIE BOLTED
upright as soon as she heard Dalton slip into the room. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Miss me?”

“I thought you'd only be gone a—” She cut herself off, remembering she had to keep her voice lowered.

Dalton didn't seem concerned. As if they'd shared a room a hundred times before, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. She'd left the bathroom light on with the door opened a crack, enough for light to filter into the bedroom but not broadcast the fact that they were still awake.

Dalton stood directly in the path of the illumination, his bare chest in full view. “I made some headway. Not much, but some.”

“Did you—?” She stopped herself, frustrated that they couldn't talk freely.

“Hold on. I'll get into bed in a minute.” He scratched his bare chest and shoved a hand through his hair.

He looked tired. And maddeningly sexy with the light sprinkling of hair that arrowed toward his waist. His skin was a golden tan all the way to the top of his low-riding jeans. He removed his belt and she shifted her gaze when her thoughts began to falter. She plumped her pillow, but out of the corner of her eye tracked his movement to the bathroom.

He opened the door wide, letting light flood over her and she automatically pulled the sheets up to cover her breasts, which was ridiculous since she had her bra on under her nightshirt.

He left the door partially open while he brushed his teeth and washed his face. She'd seen a pair of shorts
draped over his suitcase and wondered if that was what he'd sleep in.

“You want the light left on?” he asked a few minutes later, standing in the doorway, watching her, his hand on the switch.

“No, thanks.” Her mouth had grown dry and her pulse speeded up, but not because she was anxious for him to get in bed. Well, she was, but only so they could talk. She tugged down her shirt even though she wore shorts beneath.

He flipped the switch and the sudden darkness blinded her.

“Ouch! Dammit.”

“What's wrong?” She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust.

“I hit my toe on the corner of the bed.”

“You could've left the light on if you wanted.”

“Dammit.”

“What now?”

“I hit the other corner.”

Cassie laughed, but then the mattress dipped with his weight and she couldn't remember what was so funny.

“I'm glad my pain entertains you,” he said, his voice awfully close.

“Pain? You stubbed your toe.”

“Like that's supposed to tickle?”

“Oh, poor baby.” Her eyes had adjusted and she was able to see his outline. As far as she knew he hadn't changed from his jeans. He couldn't possibly have. Was that what he planned on sleeping in?

“Come on. I know you want me in perfect shape for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that's it,” she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster, considering her stomach turned somersaults at the reminder of their massage lesson.

He chuckled so close the vibration tickled her ear. She stiffened, afraid to breathe. How had he managed to get that close?

“Cassie?”

“Yeah?”

“You're not going to get all prim and modest on me tomorrow, are you?”

“What's wrong with being prim and modest? I bet Kathy won't be too anxious to strip down and let us watch her get massaged.”

“But you're not the type.” His voice was so low she had to move her head closer to hear him.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Don't get all offended. I only meant that most pretty women with a body like yours like to show off their goods.”

She didn't say anything, too overwhelmed by a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.

“Ah, hell, you know what I mean.” He sighed loudly. “Why don't you get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow.”

“No way.” She quickly summoned her composure. “I want to know what you found tonight.”

“Nothing incriminating in itself. His office was a piece of cake to get into and I managed to get into his computer and download some client names.”

“Is what you're doing legal?”

A flash of teeth told her he was smiling. “As I was saying, the names might help us in case we need corroborating witnesses. Also some bank names but no account numbers. Even here he's cautious.”

“Anything else?”

“A plane ticket to Rio.”

“Well, that's something. For when?”

“That I didn't get.”

“But that's important. That'll tell us when he's planning on closing a deal.”

“No kidding, Sherlock. I heard someone in the hall and had to turn the light off.”

Stung by his remark, she bit her lower lip.

“Cassie.” He touched her cheek. “I'm sorry. I'm tired and disappointed I didn't find more, but I have no business taking it out on you.”

“No big deal.”

His fingers trailed her cheek to her hairline. He paused and then plunged them into her hair. “Without him here, tonight was the perfect opportunity to get something on him, and I blew it.”

“No, you didn't. If there was nothing to get what could you do?” She closed her eyes, enjoying the way he massaged her scalp and then worked his way to the back of her neck. “Don't be so hard on yourself.”

“Yeah, you're right. But now I'll have to poke around while he's here.”

“You mean, we.”

“Right. Now we hope he makes a move on you soon.”

“Great.” She shifted, uncomfortable suddenly at the thought of getting cozy with Bask, and accidentally hit Dalton's with her foot. His leg. Briefly. But enough to know it was bare. But how? He'd had on jeans. His shorts were in the closet….

Oh, God.

“We're the most likely target. It's pretty obvious you can't stand me and you want out.”

“Huh?” Dare she touch his leg again? Just to make sure it was really bare. His words finally registered. “That's not true.”

“Here you go getting defensive again. It should look like we've about had it with each other.”

“Simone and Grant look like far more likely candidates. They've gone beyond despising each other to indifference. Nothing worse than that.”

Dalton remained silent for a long time. He moved away from her and rolled onto his back. “Let's get some sleep.”

She'd obviously said something wrong. But what? They were talking about the case. Or had she somehow struck close to home for him? “Dalton?”

“Yeah?”

She started to touch his shoulder but pulled back. Ever since he'd told her he didn't mix business with pleasure, the thought of kissing him, lying naked beside him, simmered in the back of her mind. Had that been his ploy? “Good night.”

“Good night, Cassie.” He turned over, giving her his back.

“I'
M NEVER GOING
to be like your daddy, Kathy. You knew that when you married me.” Tom folded his arms across his chest, his expression dark and mutinous.

Two feet away facing him, Kathy leaned forward in her metal folding chair. “I'm not asking you to be like him. That's not what I want. I just want you to give him a chance. He offered you a job because of your ability, not because you're my husband.”

“I'm happy riding the rodeo circuit.”

“You can't do it forever. You've already broken both legs and dislocated your shoulder, and next month you'll be thirty-two.”

He gave a harsh sigh. “Quit trying to make me into something I'm not.”

Kathy's eyes filled with tears. “I'm not. I just don't want you to get hurt. I want to grow old with you.”

Cassie sniffed. It was difficult to watch. Simone and Grant had already had their turn but the only feeling they inspired in Cassie was annoyance. She wanted to give each of them a swift kick.

Kathy and Tom were a different matter. Cassie's heart ached for them. They obviously loved each other,
but sadly, money and pride were getting in the way of their relationship.

“Hey,” Dalton said quietly, reaching for her hand. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly and felt a tear slip down her cheek. She dabbed it away, unaware she'd gotten misty-eyed. God, how embarrassing. She chanced a peek at Dalton. He had such a tender, sympathetic expression it made her want to weep.

He leaned closer to her. “Maybe this is what Tom and Kathy need. Better to air out their feelings than to blindside each other later.”

“I know. I just wish they had qualified counselors helping them.”

“When this is over, how about we make sure they get it?” he whispered.

Surprised, Cassie turned to him. His mouth was just inches from hers. His breath touched her lips. “That would be great.”

He smiled. “You realize we're up next.”

“Yup.”

“I'm not looking forward to it either.” His gaze went to Bask who sat to the right, facing the couple, with a notebook on his lap.

He had all the moves down, from the concerned expression to the intermittent scribble of notes. Cassie couldn't think of anyone she despised more. The way he played with people's lives for profit. The reminder helped her get in the acting mode.

At Dalton's suggestion, they'd decided to ad-lib. Cassie only hoped there wouldn't be a lot of long silent
moments. She turned her attention back to Tom and Kathy, warmed by Dalton's suggestion that they steer the couple toward a legitimate counselor.

Every once in a while she saw a soft side to him that made her melt. Like the way he'd paid special attention to Zelda at breakfast when Harvey had acted like a jackass toward her, or when he'd carried the heavy dinner tray into the kitchen for Tasha last night.

He certainly had his good qualities. But she was better off not thinking about those right now. She checked her watch. In five minutes, Tom and Kathy would be finished, and it would be her and Dalton's turn to air their dirty laundry.

Tom and Kathy wrapped up their session with tears and kisses, and an appointment for private counseling with Bask. The thought of the two of them, vulnerable and desperate, opening up to the sleazeball made Cassie's blood boil.

“Okay.” Bask stood and faced the audience as Tom and Kathy reclaimed their seats beside Cassie.

Impulsively she leaned over and squeezed Kathy's hand. The other woman smiled shyly and squeezed back.

“I think that went quite well.” Bask's oily smile had Cassie clenching her teeth. “We all have a feel for the difficulties facing Tom and Kathy. As the week goes on, you'll all be able to contribute your observations. Now, we'll hear from Dalton and Cassie.”

Cassie hesitated. She didn't get up until Dalton stood and offered her a hand. Her knees went a little
weak and she kind of hobbled alongside him toward the two chairs vacated by Tom and Kathy.

She knew she looked nervous, but that was okay. Everyone else had appeared the same way except for Simone. As usual she simply looked bored.

As soon as they were seated and facing each other, Cassie realized that Dalton wasn't thrilled to be up there either. In fact, he seemed pretty agitated. That surprised her. He'd been relatively calm until now.

“All right, let's see.” Bask frowned. “Who should go first?”

They exchanged looks, neither of them offering.

“I think Dalton should go first,” Simone said, showing the first sign of interest all morning.

Bask nodded. “If that's okay with you two, let's get started.” He reclaimed his seat and picked up his notebook and pen.

Dalton cleared his throat, pushed his fingers through his hair. “You all should know I didn't want to come here.” He glared at Cassie. “I'm being blackmailed into it.”

“Address your wife, not us,” Bask said.

Dalton exhaled sharply. “I think the marriage is just fine. I do what I'm supposed to do. Work hard. Make a living. Prepare for a family…”

What is he doing?
Cassie thought frantically. He was blowing it. Cassie stared him in the eyes, trying to get him to wake up.
We're supposed to be rich, not hardworking!

“Yeah, it takes time and energy. That doesn't mean I love her any less—”

“Dalton.” Bask drew his attention. “Remember to address Cassie. Don't speak about her like she's not here.”

Dalton frowned, and looked confused for a moment. “Right.” He glanced at the others, and then focused on Cassie. And said nothing.

“Try to relax,” Bask said. “Expressing your feelings doesn't mean you're right or wrong. Remember, you're fighting to save your marriage. Let it all out.”

“Shit! I don't want to do this.” Dalton stood suddenly, nearly knocking over his chair.

“Dalton.” Taken aback, Cassie didn't know what to say at first. If she didn't know better, she wouldn't believe he was acting. She touched his hand. It was clammy. “You promised, honey,” she said, holding his gaze captive.

He stared back for a long silent moment and then sat down again. “Okay.” He took a deep breath that made his chest visibly rise and fall. “I guess the trouble is, roles are blurred nowadays. Maybe I'm a little old-fashioned but I want to provide for my family. I want—”

“Ha!” Cassie cut him off before he totally blew their cover. “Your mother pays the bills.”

“Cassie,” Bask interjected in a warning voice. “You'll have your turn.”

Dalton straightened. Cassie breathed a silent sigh of relief that Dalton seemed to be back on track. “My trust fund pays the bills, but it's not like I don't work. I have a job, managing our finances and making sure our investments are yielding the highest dividends pos
sible. I dabble in the family business. Hell, I earn my keep.

“You're the one who seems to think life should be all fun and games, that my every waking moment should be centered on you. It doesn't work that way. A man has to prove his worth, provide for his family. All I've ever asked is that you be there for me.”

Cassie tried to look bored the way Simone had, but it was hard to ignore the passion with which he spoke. She got the feeling he wasn't acting. The way he fisted his hands and clenched his jaw, the grim expression on his face, it was all pretty unnerving.

“You can't have it both ways, Linda. Either we work as a team or—”

Cassie gasped. Part of it was pure reaction. “Wrong wife,” she managed to say.

He frowned, clearly confused. “What?”

“Let's see…” She pursed her lips as if in thought when her heart was ready to leap from her chest. “Was Linda number one or two?”

He paled, and then glanced at the others when someone giggled. “Okay, that's it.” He stood, and there was no mistaking the finality in his face. “We're done for today.”

“Cassie hasn't had her turn,” Bask said calmly.

She quickly stood, too. “If he isn't going to finish I'm not saying a word.”

“Suit yourself,” Dalton said, and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

 

E
VERYONE TURNED
to look at him as he sat down for lunch. He couldn't meet Cassie's eyes. She had to be
wondering what the hell had happened to him. He'd already made up a story for when they had some privacy. The truth was, he needed to drive. Alone. Clear his head. Get rid of the old tapes.

Man, he couldn't believe he'd reacted that way. He honestly didn't think about Linda much. They'd been divorced for two years and she'd already remarried. Which had been no surprise. She'd been seeing the guy the last two months of their marriage.

He finally had the guts to meet Cassie's gaze. She looked worried. The others were busy digging into their Caesar salads. Not Simone, though. She watched them with predatory interest.

“After lunch we'll take about an hour break to have showers or naps or whatever.” It was obviously Mary Jane's turn to baby-sit. Bask was absent. “Then we'll meet by the pool for our massage instruction.”

“Shall we wear swimsuits?” Kathy asked, her nervous gaze darting to her husband.

Mary Jane nodded. “If you like.”

“What's the alternative?” Zelda rarely spoke, and turned pink when everyone stared at her.

“Anything that makes you comfortable.” Mary Jane smiled. “However, in order to get a proper massage, you will need your back bare.”

Zelda openly shuddered. “I don't remember a massage lesson the last time we were here.”

“You were sick that day, darling.” Harvey picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “One of your migraines kept you in the room all day.”

The tender gesture surprised Dalton. The guy was like a chameleon, a weasel one minute, and charming the next.

Zelda gave him a wan smile. “I guess I could wear a swimsuit.”

“That's the spirit.” He kissed her hand again and then laid it down on the table, his predatory gaze going immediately to Cassie.

She gave him a dirty look and turned her attention to Mary Jane. “Why out by the pool?” she asked. “That doesn't sound practical.”

“Oh, you'll see. We'll be all set up for it.”

“I hope we're having more than salad for lunch,” Tom said, his plate already clean. “No way is this enough until dinner.”

“Tasha will be bringing out some fruit shortly.”

Tom made a face. “Fruit?”

Mary Jane gave him a patronizing smile. “You don't want to get too full for this afternoon. Trust me.”

Cassie darted Dalton an accusatory glare and then concentrated on her salad. As if he'd orchestrated the afternoon. He wasn't so thrilled about disrobing and getting massaged either.

That was a lie. He was getting hard just thinking about Cassie running her hands over him.

Shit! Not good. Not good at all. He hadn't been kidding about not needing the distraction.

“Here's our dessert now.” Mary Jane and her perky attitude was starting to get on his nerves.

Tasha carried in a large glass bowl filled with colorful chunks of melon and grapes and whole straw-
berries. It looked pretty good but Dalton was with Tom…he wanted real food.

“As soon as you finish, take the hour to relax and do whatever you need to do.” Mary Jane had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when Tom and Grant both pushed away from the table.

Grant looked at his watch. “At the pool by one-thirty, right?”

“Well, well, aren't we anxious?” Simone sipped her mimosa. Everyone else had non-alcoholic drinks, but Simone had insisted on the orange juice and champagne.

Grant ignored her and left the dining room with a look of disgust. Dalton decided he'd hate to be on the receiving end of either of their massages. Simone was probably capable of scratching like a wildcat, and half the time Grant looked as if he could cheerfully wring her neck.

What the hell kept those two together? Watching them made him glad he was divorced. At least he and Linda hadn't had time to get to the sniping stage. She'd taken up with their divorced neighbor while Dalton had been in New York on assignment. She complained that he never had enough time for her, and she left. Moved to Seattle. Just like that.

He realized Cassie had gotten up from the table while he'd been lost in thought. The way she stared at him with intense curiosity made him wonder what his expression had revealed. He stood and followed her out of the dining room, leaving the others to chat with Mary Jane.

“You going to the room?” he asked, but she wouldn't turn around. Probably still pissed at him for leaving like he had earlier.

Instead of heading for the stairs, she slipped out the French doors into the garden. He followed close behind and when they got a few yards away from the house, she spun around, her eyes shooting daggers.

“What the hell was that about?” Anger radiated from her.

“Could you be more specific?”

“Damn you.”

“I suggest you keep your voice down.”

“Ah.” Her lips curved in a humorless smile. “You almost blew our cover by spewing garbage about working for a living and needing to provide for a family, and you worry about me raising my voice.”

“That isn't garbage,” he said quietly.

A thoughtful frown drew her brows together and she studied him more closely. Immediately he regretted his words. They weren't really talking about him, it was all supposed to be an act, and anyway, he didn't want her poking around his personal business.

“Come on, Dalton. What was all that about Linda?”

“Nothing. Why all the questions?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Aren't I supposed to know about my husband? And I might remind you, I wasn't the one who added another layer of back story. So don't get huffy with me.” She placed her hands on her hips. “And where did you run off to without telling me?”