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As if she were precious, he’d stood, scooped her up, and taken her to the bedroom, where he’d made love to her. There’d been nothing but appreciation and caring in his touch. Though their coupling had lacked the physical sensations involved in one of their scenes, it had been so much more intense than anything else they’d shared, and it was devastating to her emotional well-being. When BDSM was involved, she could surrender her body while keeping her heart shrouded.
But a couple of hours before, he’d stripped that protection from her, leaving her emotions raw.
Afterward, Rafe had removed the collar so she would be more comfortable. She hadn’t been. Rather, the absence of its inflexible weight bothered her. When she admitted as much, he nodded, and she pretended everything was okay.
He’d taken her to bed, then wrapped his arms around her until they both drifted off.
Hours later, the touch had suffocated her, and she’d needed to escape.
Warm water bubbled around her, the citrusy scent of magnolia drifted on the air, and cicadas buzzed in the nearby trees, yet Hope’s thoughts roiled.
Out here, under the night sky, she could no longer hide from the truth.
She was halfway in love with Rafe Sterling. He’d been clear about his determination not to ever fall in love. Which meant she was invested in their relationship in a way he wasn’t. Experience had taught her that could be disastrous. A wayward part of her heart wanted to shout yes to him, his domination, his lovemaking, his proposal. Her brain zinged with warning bells. Loving him without being loved in return would destroy her.
Afraid of waking Hope, Rafe snatched up his phone that was jumping across the kitchen counter.
He sighed when he saw Celeste’s name on the screen. Rafe still expected his father to show up and do his duty.
“Judge Anderson is willing to allow you to attend the planning meeting,” she said without preamble. “Be in the Grand House at ten.”
“Thanks.” He dumped grounds into the coffeemaker, then turned the machine on.
She didn’t immediately ring off, so he waited.
“The woman you asked us to look into? One Elizabeth Martin doesn’t exist.”
The fuck? “What do you mean Lillibet doesn’t exist?”
“We accessed human resources files. All on paper. It would’ve been so much easier if they had been digital.”
In other words, Fallon and Associates were already guilty of breaking and entering.
“Her resumé was made up. The club doesn’t require an extensive background check, just calls to former employers and supplied references, none of whom we can locate. None of her coworkers know much about her, said she didn’t talk much. Didn’t show up for happy hours or participate in office gossip. Her colleagues thought she was a bit too friendly with some of the older members, but there had been no complaints about her work. One day, Elizabeth didn’t show up for work. Her employer tried to contact her with no luck. On the second day that she didn’t show, her boss went to her home. Which doesn’t exist.”
“What about her paychecks?” He paced the room. “Can we see the bank records?”
“She never cashed them.”
What the hell were they dealing with?
“How much money do you want to spend on this?”
“How much are we talking?”
“We’re already ten thousand in. I should have consulted you before, but I figured you’d want those results, at the least.”
She was right.
“I’ll need fifty thousand as a retainer.”
He dug a hand through his hair. With the stakes and unanswered questions, Rafe had no choice.
“I’ll need access to your dad’s phone records. He was contacting Elizabeth somehow.”
Rafe had no idea whether Theodore’s line was on a company account. “It’s possible his assistant has them. Or…better, let me contact our IT department.”
“Let me know. I’ll start to work on it from this end if needed.”
A pit grew in his stomach.
After he ended the call, he pressed redial on his dad’s number. As expected, Rafe reached voicemail. This time, instead of hanging up, he left a message. “We need to talk.” He paused, not for dramatic effect, but to figure out what to say next. Accusing his father’s paramour of something would further alienate him. “A package arrived for you. A contract for a house in…” Where? “Barbados. Do you want me to forward the paperwork?”
