Family Jewels Page 8

  Shaking herself out of her reverie Cynthia tucked the stone back into its hiding place inside her jeweler’s case and snapped the lid shut. She set the case on the edge of the sink by her empty pack and opened her medicine cabinet. If she was going to be gone for a day or more she’d need some things.

  She loaded her toothbrush, paste, hairbrush, deodorant and mascara into her pack. When she picked up the lipstick she stopped.

  Uncapping the tube, she stared at the deep plum-rose color inside. Vintage Wine. The saleswoman at the Estée Lauder beauty counter had showed her how to expertly apply the rich color to her lips. She closed the mirror and leaned in close to make sure she didn’t smear it.

  In the light of her bathroom, it made her mouth look dark and lush. As if she’d just kissed the red grapes used for making that wine. The only time she ever used lipstick was to dress up for a date.

  Is that what you’re doing now?

  No. Trevor St. James was a man of the law. He was hunting down bad guys on an international assignment. She shouldn’t be thinking of him as a date. He considered her an obstacle to his investigation.

  Oh but you want him.

  Hell yes! What red-blooded American woman wouldn’t want a piece of a man who talked and acted like a more rugged version of James Bond? With his heavenly body and that handsome, brooding, rebel-boy face? Definitely yes.

  And it had been pretty damned obvious he wanted her too.

  She reached for a tissue to blot her lips. When she leaned over, her sweater billowed out and knocked against her jeweler’s case. It slid off the edge of the sink and dropped onto the tile floor. Glittering, loose gems spilled and bounced into every corner of the bathroom, even behind the toilet.

  “Shit!”

  Lipstick forgotten, she went to her knees and began to gather the wayward beauties.

  How could I be so fuckin’ careless? Thinking about a man, that’s what I was doing! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “Cyn?” Trevor called from the hall, his voice loud but muffled behind the bathroom door. “Where are you?”

  “Oh no, not yet,” she groaned. She peeked under the top layer and saw that Mr. Andrews’ diamond had not escaped like the others. She scrambled faster to reclaim her jewels, not caring to put them in rainbow order this time. “I’m in the bathroom! Be out in a minute.”

  His steps sounded outside the door. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Just taking care of business.” She cringed at her choice of words. Let him think what he would, she was taking care of business.

  She placed the jeweler’s case in her backpack and tied it shut with a firm snap. Then she leaned over the sink and took several deep breaths. He would notice if she were upset and ask why. No way could she let him know anything, or that the diamond he so reverently sought was within reach.

  “Cynthia?”

  She jerked back to reality. “Yes, I’m coming.”

  She flushed the toilet and turned the water in the sink on for her cover-up. Taking one last deep, calming breath, she hooked her backpack over her shoulder, turned off the water, unlocked and opened the bathroom door.

  Trevor waited right outside in the hall. He leaned against the wall and tucked his thumbs inside his jeans pockets. The look he gave her was both curious and raw with barely concealed sexual hunger. He lifted a dark eyebrow.

  “Shall I help you pack?”

  Cynthia cleared her throat and forced a smile. God help her, that sexy British voice was too enticing. She needed to keep her distance from him for a while. He could not be allowed to know she had the jeweler’s case on her body. Not until she decided exactly what to do with that diamond.

  “How many days do you think it’ll be until I can return?”

  “I’m not certain. How long before your landlord can replace that window for you?” He pushed away from the wall and walked toward her.

  “A few days, at least. He’s not very quick about things. I left him a phone message.” She backed up a step then spun around to her bedroom.

  God, don’t let him touch me. I’ll melt if he does. I won’t be able to keep anything from him. Not even the diamond.

  Dried blood splattered and smeared in jagged, ugly streaks along the wall where the intruder had fallen against it. She backed away.

  Trevor came up behind her and rested his firm, warm hands on her shoulders. His body heat enveloped her in soothing waves from her spine down to her toes. He murmured in her ear. “Did you do that to him?”

  She nodded.

  “Good job. Come on, let’s get your things and leave.”

  * * * * *

  After arguing with her for ten minutes about stopping at the Humane Society, Trevor finally relented. Cynthia was determined to do everything possible to find her cat. It was obvious she was fiercely in love with the animal and worried about the feline’s welfare.

  He almost envied the creature. What would it be like to have this woman’s total devotion? To have her care for him as much, or more, than she cared for her pet?

  Trevor leaned against the counter and watched her fill out the necessary paperwork for a missing pet report. The young man behind the counter answering the phones looked bored. He had greasy brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail and an abundance of pet hair adorned his stained Humane Society sweatshirt.

  A young couple waited in the lobby with a mewling, tiny black kitten. An older man sat on a bench near the door, playing with a large furry dog whose tail never stopped wagging. Trevor knew these people were “getting to know” these animals, trying to decide if they should adopt them. The barking and howling from the kennel door behind the counter never ceased. Tinny pop music from a local radio station played through the overhead speakers. The sharp odor of disinfectant failed to disguise the smell of urine and feces that permeated the air.

  As horrible as these conditions were, he knew places where people lived in even more filth and squalor.

  Cynthia had taken quite a few things with her from the apartment. Not only most of her clothes but all of her art supplies and jeweler’s hand tools too. Apparently, she planned to do some work while she was away, since he couldn’t tell her how long that would be. The trunk of his rental car contained everything she held most dear. Perhaps she was just paranoid. He couldn’t blame her for that.

  Finished with her paperwork, Cynthia swung her purse onto the counter and opened it. She smiled at him while digging inside and then pulled out her wallet, removing a photo of her cat. She used a paper clip to attach the photo to the missing pet report.

  She handed it to the young man behind the counter. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Is he wearing a collar and tags?”

  “Yes. A white leather collar and his rabies tag. You’ll call me right away, if he shows up?”

  “Yeah,” the young man confirmed. “But just so you know, our policy is three nights. We can’t keep cats more than that, so if we call, you gotta come get him. We euthanize on the fourth day.”

  Cynthia paled visibly at that news. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Outside the sky had darkened to lead gray and snow fell in heavy, lazy flakes. It accumulated on the ground and made piles of dirty slush on the street as traffic moved through it. Walking became tricky. People scooted over slick spots and slowed their steps to keep from slipping. Cynthia stopped on the sidewalk outside the Humane Society building and buttoned her forest green Loden-style coat up to her chin.

  “That was fun.” She managed a wry grimace, yanking her backpack and purse up higher. “I wish we didn’t need places like this animal shelter. It’s horrible.”

  “I agree. But at least the animals are cared for in some fashion, for a while. It could be a lot worse. I’m very sorry about your missing cat.”

  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I’m sorry to bother you with him. You’ve been very patient and accommodating.”

  “I’m not complaining. You have a way of making me forget who I really am, Cy
n.” He caught her cold hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, drawing her close to his side. “Despite the precarious circumstances of our being together, I’m enjoying your company.”

  A spark of hope lit up her eyes before she turned her gaze away. “Who are you, Trevor? I mean the real you?”

  “Who am I,” he sighed. “I’m afraid that’s a convoluted tale.”

  “I need to know. I feel vulnerable and totally out of my element with you, with this whole mess I’m in. I’m feeling nervous about everything and it’s all happening too fast. Maybe we should go someplace and talk. I need to understand what’s going on. And I want to know more about the diamond you’re looking for.”

  All the passion from their kiss earlier seemed like yesterday’s dream. They were strangers, both caught up in a dangerous mystery he still needed to solve. He shouldn’t allow his rampant hormones for this beautiful American woman to sway him from his job.

  By God, man, just fuck her and get her out of your mind.

  Oddly enough, the truth of the matter was he felt powerless to use her body in that way. For the first time in years he wanted to engage a woman’s mind and soul in bed as much as her body. That spelled trouble.

  Trevor pushed the annoying thought away, determined to look it over more thoroughly at a more convenient time. As was his habit, he took a moment to gauge the people around them. One man in particular looked out of place for this snowy, late afternoon. Without seeing his face, the man’s black trench coat and rubber-soled shoes had that “professional” look of a hired thug. The fact that he tried to read a newspaper on the street corner under the falling snow struck Trevor as particularly odd and stupid.

  Trevor urged Cynthia down the sidewalk. “Let’s get off the street. We passed a Starbucks’ coffee shop on our way here. That would be a good place to talk some more. Besides, I’m way under my daily quota for caffeine.”

  Her sweet smile returned. That was good. He kept his suspicions about the man on the corner to himself. No need to worry her more. Their tail would either make a mistake or make a move on them. Until then, Trevor might as well act as if he didn’t know the man was there. He’d keep Cynthia in a public place as long as possible before taking her back to the hotel for safekeeping. If the man following them showed up at either location that would be time enough for Trevor to confront him.

  Cynthia added her other hand to the one already tucked in his elbow and matched her steps to his. “I thought you Brits were addicted to tea? Not coffee.”

  “My mother hates tea. I grew up drinking coffee, strong and black. Lots of it.”

  She chuckled, the soft curve of her hip rocking against his while they walked the crowded sidewalks. “Isn’t that bad for growing children?”

  “My mother didn’t think so.”

  “Lucky you.” She wrinkled her nose for a moment. “I only got milk as a kid.”

  They strolled down 63rd Street, past small family-style delicatessens, a bagel bakery, shoe stores and trinket shops. At the corner, the tantalizing aroma of roasted coffee beans lured cold passersby into the warm confines of the tiny coffee shop. Trevor ushered Cynthia inside. The line for ordering snaked almost to the door. An excellent choice. The man who followed them would have to wait outside in the cold while they enjoyed this luxury.

  Trevor stood behind Cynthia, resting his hands on her shoulders, keeping his body between her and the door. The sweet, strawberry scent of her hair teased his nostrils and the lovely supple length of her body pressed against his with the promise of hot sensual pleasure. For the sake of modesty in a public place he refrained from bracing his hips against her soft bottom to let her feel the eager hardness between his legs.

  He wanted to tip his nose down and nuzzle her, slide off the velvet-covered elastic band she used to tie her hair with and run his fingers through the loosened, silky tresses. She had wonderfully long hair, down to the middle of her back. It would feel good to wrap his hands around it, hold her captive while he explored every inch of her lush body.

  Concentrate, man! Your imagination is getting way ahead of you with this woman.

  She turned around and winked at him. “This will be my treat, since you overpaid for breakfast at Norma’s. I have a Starbucks card.”

  All he had to do was lean forward and touch her dark, reddened lips with his own. She’d applied lipstick while in the bathroom at her apartment. He liked that. He ached to give in to the lure of her mouth and savor her sweet kiss again.

  Now was not the time. With a mental kick, he straightened his posture and scanned the crowd. “If you wish. But dinner’s on me.”

  “Great. I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal. What do you want for dinner? I know of a snazzy little Italian place. Or how about Thai? I love spicy food.”

  Trevor returned his gaze to her upturned face. He ran his hands down her arms, squeezing the thick material of her coat so that he could feel her. “Anything. I have a wide and adventurous palate. Preferably room service.”

  Chapter Ten

  Cynthia thanked the cashier at the counter and stuffed the receipt for the coffee into her purse. A pair of teenaged girls wearing matching school uniforms and heavy backpacks got up from a corner table and departed. Cynthia jerked her chin to indicate the vacated table and two seats. Trevor carried their coffee cups. She hurried ahead of him to claim the space.

  His eyes never seemed to stop flicking over the crowd, the midnight blue depths hardened one second and then softened every time he glanced at her. High-strung awareness flowed from him in tangible waves whenever a new customer entered the shop. He was as alert as a watchdog on patrol.

  “You seem really tense, Trevor. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go some place else to talk?”

  “No. This is perfect.” He took the plastic lid off his coffee cup and sniffed the dark brown liquid appreciatively. He sipped, his eyes careful. “Instinct is hard to suppress. I’m not entirely certain we’re not still being followed.”

  Cynthia spun in her chair. The crowd appeared normal. The rush that typically followed the end of the workday made everyone look hurried while they pushed their way into and out of the coffee shop.

  Turning back, she whispered across the table, “What does he look like?”

  Trevor chuckled. “I’ll let you know when I see him again. You wanted to know some things about me, right? Now’s the time to ask. Because when I get you back to my hotel room, Cyn, I don’t plan on lots of conversation.”

  All the blood in her body pooled into her lower belly and made her dizzy. She swallowed. “Oh, really? What if I like conversation?”

  “You won’t have time to talk once I start kissing you.” He sipped his coffee and watched her.

  Cynthia lost her train of thought. She could only focus on the aching heat building and throbbing between her legs. When had she ever been this horny? Never!

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Very much so. Now, ask your questions. I’ll tell you everything I can without revealing sensitive information you don’t need to know.”

  “Right.” She cleared her throat, which seemed suddenly too parched and dry to be soothed by drinking hot coffee. “Things about you. Let’s start with, where were you born?”

  “Sudbury, England,” he said and added, “I’ll be thirty-three in a couple of months.”

  “I see. So you’re a Pisces?”

  “No, Aries actually. Next question?”

  “Tell me about your family? Brothers, sisters?”

  Trevor set his coffee down and folded his arms on the table. “Father, Phillip. Mother, Adele. Both still alive and well. No siblings.”

  “Ah, an only child. That and the fact that you’re an Aries explain your take-charge behavior. I’ll bet you never learned to share your toys.”

  He flashed a lecherous grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “I love to share my toys. Anything else you want to know about me?”

  Cynthia coughed. Did he mean…sex toys? Her pussy
clenched at the thought of letting him tie her up and use any toy he found appropriate to bring her to one wild orgasm after another. She crossed her legs to suppress the flow of moisture that pooled in her panties.

  “Do you like your job?”

  He picked up his coffee and stared into the steaming cup. “For the most part, yes. It’s often exciting. That’s why I joined Interpol. I craved the thrill, the intrigue and potential danger. Plus, I’ve seen just about every corner of the world and met very interesting people along the way. I suppose how much I enjoy my job depends on the logistics of each assignment.”

  “Sounds exciting. I would love to travel. My brother travels to places I can only dream about.”

  “Where would you go?”

  She leaned her chin on her hand. “This time of year I dream of going someplace warm, like Jamaica. Or Tahiti. Fiji, for sure. And South America. Oh and the French Riviera. China. Japan. So many places I’d love to go to explore.”

  “Trust me,” he chuckled gently. “Traveling for your job gets old. And with heightened security at airports and train stations these days, it’s often quite tedious.”

  Cynthia sighed wistfully. “I think my life is pretty boring, all things considered.”

  “I’m assuming that’s not because of a lack of funds?”

  She sighed. “No. I live a comfortable life.”

  “Don’t let stability and comfort be confused with boredom, darling.”

  “All I do is work. I love it but I’m boring you now, aren’t I?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t think I could ever find you boring. I’m enjoying our conversation. What else would you like to know?”

  She took a deep breath before plunging headlong into what she really wanted to know. “Why is Mr. Andrews’ diamond so important?”

  He grinned triumphantly. “So, you’re willing to admit he gave you a diamond? What changed your mind about working with me, instead of against me?”