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Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) Page 10
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Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she trusted him to put Jacob’s safety first in his quest to find Forrester. “What now?”
“Now we eat. Then we buy you some clothes.”
Her gaze shot his way in time to see him slip his phone into his pocket.
“Not that you don’t look good in jeans, but, hey, you’re in Paris, and you might want some birthday clothes to coordinate with your birthday Mace.” He smiled in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.
She frowned. “What about all that racing through the streets because we might be followed?”
“Ah well, now you’re thinking like an undercover operative. Well done. Weston has a man outside the inn now. He’s going to keep watch on anyone who might follow us.”
“So now we want to be followed.”
“That’s right.” He beamed at her, reminding her of her own approving smiles when students grasped an important concept. “Then we’ll catch an early morning flight back to the States and meet with Zach. So, what do you say? How about we head out for some food, pick up some clothes, and come back here to try out that Jacuzzi?”
Emma’s eyes widened. Although shadows still lurked in his eyes, a hint of boyish charm lit his face.
“Separately, of course.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Unless…”
She shook her head, appreciating his attempt at humor. Better to explore the city, and maybe find some bad guys, than to sit here and worry when there was nothing she could do tonight. She sauntered to the door, arching one brow at him. “Are you coming? I’m starving.”
Smiling, Cole joined her, opening the door and checking the hallway before they headed out into the early night.
…
Two hours later, well fed and carrying bags of new clothes, they returned to the inn. To her disappointment, Emma hadn’t spotted the Weston tail, and the tail hadn’t spotted anyone following them.
“You run a bath for yourself,” Cole called from the bedroom. “I’ll read the paper. Let me know if you need anything.”
She didn’t respond, but he heard the sound of the faucet, the gush of water as it poured into the Jacuzzi. He’d witnessed her exhaustion on the walk back, recognizing the signs of someone both physically and mentally ready to shut down.
He’d coaxed her into purchasing a stylish, pale rose silk blouse, a pair of black jeans, and comfortable, yet stylish flats. A casual, silver gray jacket completed the outfit. He removed the clothes from the bag and hung them in the closet. It was a definite sign of her exhaustion that she’d let him buy her clothes, carry them, and now put them away while she ran a bath.
He returned to the sitting room and pulled a chair near the window. Leaning back, he placed his feet on the sill. Emma wasn’t the only one who was tired. He’d kept a careful eye on their surroundings during their outing and seen no sign they were being followed.
He closed his eyes, relaxed, and began to sort through not only what he knew but what he suspected.
And feared.
Cole prided himself on being a problem solver who trusted the facts. He wouldn’t stop until he had answers, whether he liked the answers or not.
A splash from the bathroom interrupted his concentration, followed by the soft ripple of water against the marble tub, hinting of things he definitely did not need to be imagining.
Not when a killer ran free.
The soft sounds of humming reached him next. He tilted his head back against the chair and tried think of anything but joining Emma in the bath.
Moments passed, and he realized Emma must have settled in to soak. He gritted his teeth. That thought was almost worse than the humming. The jets whirred to life. He sighed. He could handle the sound of bubbles.
Cole pictured Zach and Lizzie, the best friends a man ever had. They’d welcomed him into their family. Their two kids called him Uncle Cole. For a man who’d been alone in the world most of his life—his dad left Cole’s mom when he was a baby, and his mom died the summer after he turned eighteen—being part of their family meant everything, and right now, they needed him. Badly.
His unruly mind focused back on work.
Time ceased to register as he analyzed the possibilities. When he’d exhausted every possible avenue, he set his feet back on the ground. A glance at his watch told him Emma had been in the Jacuzzi for over twenty minutes. He listened intently. Still nothing.
Another five minutes. He began to worry. “Emma?” No answer. He rose from his chair and walked to the bathroom door. He knocked. “Emma?”
Nothing.
He turned the handle and pushed the door inward. “Emma…”
She lay still in the marble bath, a plush, ivory towel folded beneath her head. Her thick lashes brushed her cheeks. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched her sleep, but it was the first time he’d watched her sleep peacefully. Candles burned on the far edge of the Jacuzzi.
The jets filled the tub with bubbles that revealed only her graceful neck, her delicate ears, and her lovely face. And of course that thick, glorious hair, piled high on her head.
She drew him in. Her strength, her determination, her bizarre predilection for Mace. Her temper intrigued him, even as her resulting unpredictability made him crazy. He drew a deep, shuddering breath. The woman was sexy as hell. She was perfect.
All of these things called to him, and yet in this moment, naked under a cover of fragrant bubbles, it was her peacefulness that appealed to him the most. He hadn’t known peace in a very long time.
Emma stirred. Luminous brown eyes slowly focused, the golden rims a deep amber in the candlelit room. She eyed him, puzzled.
“Uh, hi.” Okay, that was smooth. “I, uh, you were quiet, and I started to worry.” He nodded. “But I guess you’re okay.” He turned to escape, stopping when she spoke his name.
“Cole?”
He turned to face her. “Yes.”
She smiled shyly. “Would you hand me a wash cloth?”
He selected a plush, ivory cloth from the wicker shelves and handed it to her. A graceful arm escaped from the bubbles to receive it, droplets of water cascading back into the foam. He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes from her glistening skin only to be captured by the way her hair shimmered in the candlelight.
“Thanks.” Her husky voice washed over him, enclosing him in warmth.
Holding the washcloth, she picked up the heart-shaped soap and lathered the cloth. Then she raised her foot from the water and rested it on the spigot, revealing a shapely leg. She leaned forward to run the cloth across her painted pink toenails, providing an enticing view of her very feminine back. The washcloth caressed her foot, moving in languorous circles around her ankle, her calves, her knee.
When the cloth dipped below the water line to caress what he was quite certain was a shapely thigh, Cole realized he was staring like a teenage boy. He spun and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
He wanted her, but it was the wrong time to do anything about it…again.
Chapter Fourteen
Raising her other leg from the water, Emma smiled, enjoying the masculine appreciation that had flared in Cole’s eyes.
She took her time bathing, the brief rest under layers of bubbles having refreshed both body and spirit, then rose from the water. Humming softly, she combed her hair.
She slathered on the inn’s luxurious body lotion, and then dried her hair until it lay about her shoulders in shimmering waves. Removing her towel, she slipped into smooth, satin pajamas purchased earlier in the day. The pale blue color brought out the pink of her cheeks and deepened her eyes. As they shopped earlier, with Cole cajoling her into letting Weston cover her purchases, making her laugh even as he kept a careful eye out for Forrester’s men, she’d come to a decision. Tonight was for her—and Cole. For this one night, she was going to set aside her worries about Jacob and just be.
Leaving the robe hanging in the bathroom, she opened the door and stepped into the sitting room.
Cole stood near t
he window, looking out on the Parisian night. As she glided toward him, he turned. His eyes glowed deep blue in the moonlit room, widening as she advanced. He rubbed his hand along his jaw, then along the back of his neck before dropping it to his side.
She smiled.
He stepped toward her, meeting her halfway across the wooden floor.
They stood, content to drink in each other’s presence, until Cole raised his hand to her cheek and cupped her face as though she were a very fine, very rare treasure. Fingers trailed along her jaw, rising up to touch her lips. With tender caresses, he learned the texture and planes of her face.
Just when she thought she could bear the gentle touch no longer, he slipped his hand behind her neck and spread his fingers upward into her hair. He tilted her face and brushed her lips with his. First, tentative kisses gave way to increasing passion, until he devoured her mouth with his.
Emma raised her hands to stroke his face. The kiss slowed, intensifying at the same time, and heat like nothing she’d ever known consumed her. Her fingers trailed down his neck, slipping inside his shirt to caress his chest. Without breaking the kiss, she unbuttoned the top button, then the next, and the next.
He pulled back to look into her eyes, asking without words.
Are you sure?
She responded with a soft smile. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the bed and let her feet fall to the ground, a slow, sensual slide that teased her hungry body. His hand dipped low on her back, kneading the skin, soothing aches she’d learned to live with over the past days. His hands slipped lower to squeeze her butt, pulling her with excruciating slowness toward his body until she rested against him and felt the full force of his desire for her.
She moaned low in her throat.
He captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, plundering her with his clever tongue. Her hands crept down his chest to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Wicked lips left her mouth and nibbled along her jaw until he nuzzled her neck, sending a tingling pleasure down her spine. All the while, his hands molded her skin, massaging her flesh, pressing her against the evidence of his desire.
He pulled back. They stared into each other’s eyes, rapid breaths mingling in the cool, night air. He released her backside to run his hands up her back, over her shoulders, tracing his fingertips along the neckline of her satin nightshirt. He toyed with the lace opening, slipping his fingers further beneath the fabric, teasing the soft mounds of her breasts.
When she could bear it no longer, she grabbed his hands, pressing them full against her aching breasts. He squeezed them, exploring the shape of her through the thin fabric. When he gently pinched her nipples with his thumbs and fingers, her knees nearly buckled.
His breath blew harshly near her ear as he continued to fondle delicate flesh.
The last button on Cole’s shirt broke free. Emma ran her hand down his chest, over his flat stomach, stopping only when she cradled his arousal. She squeezed hard.
…
Cole dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “S-top.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned back to stare into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
Her tongue peeked out of her mouth to wet her lower lip. No words were necessary.
His hands dropped to her hemline and yanked her shirt over her head in one desperately graceful move. He stopped and stared. She was beautiful.
She reached for him, but he pushed her hands back to her sides, raising his to brush hungry fingers across her breasts, enjoying the shiver that ran through her body. His hands drifted lower, never losing contact with her soft skin, until he reached her satin pants.
Emma inhaled sharply. Slipping his fingers into the waistline, he pulled the pants down to her ankles in one long slide, leaving them pooled at her feet.
His eyes devoured every inch of her before he tumbled her back onto the bed and ran his hands slowly from her waist to her ankles. He lifted her right foot in his hand, massaging deep into the delicate tissue. She groaned. He repeated the slow caress on her other foot.
She dug her fingers into the plush bedding. He smiled at the sight of her clenched hands and looked into eyes dark with passion.
Her gaze left his and drifted lower, stopping at the painfully full bulge in his jeans. Perfect, white teeth bit her lower lip.
He groaned and shed his shirt and pants, stopping to grab a condom from inside his duffel before returning to the bed. He placed one knee on the mattress and tried to gain control of his raging desire. With a moan of protest, she slid her hands along his body and pulled him to her. He sought entrance and her body welcomed him, enclosing him in warmth before consuming him in ecstasy. Worries and fears ceased to exist. There was only fiery passion and a deep burning emotion he refused to name.
The second time they made love, they took their time, stroking and exploring with restless hands, soft whispers filling the night as they learned each other’s bodies.
In the small hours of the morning, sleep finally beckoned. Emma turned on her side, and Cole pulled her close, his chest pressed tight against her back. Listening to the gentle sounds of her breathing, he slipped his arm around her to clasp her hand with his.
For a brief moment, he was at peace.
…
The sense of contentment, of belonging, lasted for almost an hour before darkness beckoned Cole from sleep. He feared they’d made a mistake; however, he found it impossible to regret the change in their relationship.
Six months ago, he’d known Emma was the one. His grandpa had told him that for some men, it was like that. You met the love of your life, and you just knew.
Even though tonight had proven beyond doubt what he’d known in his heart, he knew something else.
He was a man who believed in the truth. If the truth revealed Jacob to be guilty, Cole would bring him to justice. And he was quite certain, that although Emma cared for him, in a battle where Emma had to choose between him and Jacob, Cole would be the loser every time.
Chapter Fifteen
Cole and Emma descended the steps of the inn, the bright morning marking an end to the night’s respite. They’d had a quiet breakfast, neither quite willing to test the fledgling bond between them. The flight to New York would be a perfect time to refocus his thoughts and search for underlying patterns in the investigation. Cole could only hope he would find a pattern that boded well for both him and Emma.
“What do we hope to accomplish when we meet with Zach?” Emma asked quietly, glancing right and left.
Good. She needed a stronger sense of caution. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more to offer than what he’d already told her. They’d regroup in New York and figure out where to look next. Also, they’d have a chat with Grant and…
“Is that where you think Forrester is?” She interrupted his thoughts as her voice, still hushed, grew more insistent. “Cole?”
He frowned. Last night’s temptress had transformed into today’s pain in the butt. She didn’t need to be privy to all of his thoughts. Although, if he wanted her to trust him, he needed to share as much information as he could.
Emma grabbed his hand, recalling his attention to her. “Cole?” Magical eyes pleaded with him.
Ah, there was the alluring woman from last night. He hailed a passing cab.
The temptress gave his hand a little tug. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m just trying to understand.”
The cab pulled up to the curb. He followed her into the backseat, placing the luggage at their feet. To be completely truthful with himself, he wanted Emma to understand his commitment to the Westons. And that meant having her meet Lizzie, Zach, and their children.
He leaned over to place a quick kiss on her lips. “And I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s just that I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for, but…” He hesitated and then sighed. “My gut is telling me to head back and regroup. And I want to talk with Grant.”
“Who’s Grant?”
“Grant is the idiot
who knew Forrester was behind the kidnapping and said nothing. Unfortunately, he’s also Sam’s biological father.” Disgust dripped from his words. The Weston’s might have forgiven Grant, but Cole never would.
“Sam?” Emma looked puzzled.
“Sam is Lizzie’s daughter from a previous relationship, although Zach has been her true father since before she was born. Grant butted his way back into their lives when Sam was a baby. Although Zach didn’t know it, Grant’s father was the mastermind behind Forrester’s drugs. Grant claimed he couldn’t say anything about his connection to Forrester or the kidnapping because he had to keep Sam safe.” Months later, Grant’s treachery still infuriated him.
“Forrester would have hurt the little girl?”
He nodded fiercely. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Yes. He kidnapped Sam and returned her to Grant a few days later, but Lizzie believed Sam was being held by Forrester the entire time she was on the island. It kept her in line. The old man is devious and very dangerous. He would have killed Sam without hesitation if it served his purpose.”
“Then Grant did the right thing.”
“No. We could have protected Sam if we’d known the truth.”
“But he believed it was the only way he could keep his daughter safe.”
Cole didn’t like the undercurrent of understanding in her voice or the possible reasons for it. “And he was willing to sacrifice Zach, Lizzie, and Daniel—his daughter’s baby brother—to do it. No matter how Sam would have felt if anything happened to them. No.” He shook his head. “Grant’s a coward. He had other options.” He clasped her hand. “It’s important that you understand the kind of control Alistair holds over people.” It was important she not underestimate the enemy.
She mulled this over. “It’s an incredible coincidence. Grant and Lizzie, Lizzie and Zach, all tied to Forrester.”
He shook his head. “With Forrester, there are no coincidences.” When her troubled eyes sought his, he clarified, “Lizzie and Zach forgave Grant. They should have kicked him out of their lives and made it official with a restraining order. But they didn’t, so I tolerate him for the Weston’s sake. Anyway, we’ll question him when we get there.”