Chapter 27
Even though his face was concealed as he stared at the floor, there was no mistaking Kane’s short dark hair, towering height, and massive arms and shoulders. Both hands were behind his back.
Cold fear stabbed my heart. Was he a captive, his hands bound?
Tawny stroked one of his bulging biceps, gazing up at him as she spoke softly. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Harchman looked distinctly ticked off.
My feet carried me forward as if they were under someone else’s control while my mind ping-ponged frantically between snatching out my Glock or playing ice-cold Arlene Widdenback.
A moment later Kane looked up and spotted me, his face relaxing into a smile. “Arlene,” he said warmly.
Closing the distance between us in a few long strides, he pulled me into a passionate embrace and kissed me, devouring my lips like a starving man.
Nope, he definitely wasn’t bound. Big hot hands spanned my back, pulling my body tight against all those magnificent muscles.
My own hands reacted instinctively, roaming the rock-hard contours of his chest and shoulders while my mind scrambled to catch up.
What the hell? Why the public display of affection when he should be distancing himself from me? And why was he here at all? I would have bet my life that he wouldn’t leave Daniel and Alicia for anything…
He broke the kiss and smiled down at me, still holding me close. “Nice to see you again.”
“Uh… yeah,” I croaked. “Hi.” Turning my attention toward our audience, I managed a feeble smile. “Hi, everybody.”
Riel’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Bonsoir, Arlene.”
Labelle and Harchman each offered me a stiff nod, and Tawny gave me a brief venomous glance before turning on the smiles and bubbles and draping herself over her husband.
Harchman brightened, wrapping her in a possessive embrace. With one hand locked on her ass, he turned a reluctant gaze to me. “May I offer you a drink?” he inquired unenthusiastically.
“Um… sure… thanks.” Disengaging myself from Kane, I accepted the wineglass Harchman handed me and downed a swallow before realizing it was the vile oaked Sauvignon Blanc that he considered a special treat.
I held my best neutral expression. “So, this is a surprise,” I said, nodding toward Kane.
“What, you’re not happy to see your partner in crime?” Harchman sniped, his acrimony poorly disguised by a jocular tone.
I summoned a noncommittal smile, my mind completely devoid of an appropriate answer.
Fortunately Riel spoke up with his usual tact. “I am most pleased you arrived safely. That is a long and dark drive, is it not?”
“It is,” I agreed, hoping I’d concealed my relief at his interruption. “It’s not bad now, but it wouldn’t be much fun during a snowstorm.”
“Indeed, no.” He turned to Harchman. “Do you find it tiresome in the winter, to live so far away from the city when the roads are bad?”
Harchman shrugged, puffing out his chest as though he couldn’t resist the temptation to flaunt his wealth. “It doesn’t bother me a bit. I have drivers.”
“Ah, yes, of course,” Riel murmured. “You ‘ave the… ‘ow shall I say it? The touch of gold, yes?”
“The Midas Touch.” Harchman puffed up even more. “I certainly do. I have the highest net worth of anybody in Canada.” He waved an expansive hand at the palatial surroundings. “This is just one of my properties. I have small pied-à-terres in Calgary, Edmonton, Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal, too… only about four thousand square feet each.” He smirked at his own attempt at humour.
When Harchman mispronounced ‘peed-a-tares’ in his Anglicized accent, Riel’s eyelid twitched but he maintained his warm and friendly demeanor nevertheless. “Most impressive. All this wealth and a lovely wife, too.” He offered a gallant nod to Tawny before continuing, “And you are ‘aving another big success with your latest software, no?”
“Not yet,” Harchman demurred with false modesty before reverting to his true obnoxiousness. “But when it’s released next week it’s going to be huge! Everybody’s going to buy it, and why wouldn’t they? My marketing is brilliant. It plays on everybody’s biggest fears: terrorists, unpredictable attacks… that’s what makes people buy, you know. Fear or reward, but fear is by far the strongest motivator.”
My heart thumping, I asked, “Terrorists? What are you talking about?”
Harchman clammed up with a suspicious glance at Kane and me, but Riel saved the conversation again. “Ah, yes, you arrived too late at the gala for the software presentation. Monsieur Harchman has developed a most ingenious app for phones, called Terror Watch.”
I drew a secret breath. At the gala. Before the terrorist threat had been announced.
“I told you before, Benny; call me Lawrence. We’re all friends here, right?” Harchman said. He slapped Riel’s back, apparently oblivious to another twitch of Riel’s eyelid.
As if unwilling to relinquish the limelight despite his mistrust for Kane and me, Harchman babbled on, “Terror Watch, it’s brilliant! It monitors all the emergency broadcast systems and media-”
“Pookie-Poo,” Tawny interrupted. “Let’s not bore Aiding with-”
Harchman kept talking over her, completely absorbed in trumpeting his own brilliance. “…and if there’s a terrorist attack or mass shooting or any kind of violent crime, it pings and pops up a map showing the location. You can preset the area you want to monitor…”
“Pookie…” Tawny dug her red talons into his arm.
He patted her hand absently, still talking. “…or choose several locations, or even have worldwide coverage. People are going to eat it up! The ones that are scared of terrorist attacks will use it to avoid the hotspots…” He bestowed an unpleasant grin on us. “…and the looky-loos will use it to run to the scene for a glimpse of blood and dismembered bodies. It’ll make millions…” As if recollecting himself, he adopted a grave expression and serious tone. “And it’ll save innocent lives. That’s what’s really important. Right, Sweetums?”
Excitement fizzed in my veins. Terror Watch. How convenient for Harchman’s marketing if there were a terrorist attack only a few days after its launch. And if Harchman’s app made millions, Tawny would reap the benefits, too.
No wonder she was trying to shut him up. He must have told her about Kane and me trying to steal his drilling software over a year ago. She wouldn’t want us anywhere near this.
As Harchman focused on Tawny at last, her expression of tooth-grinding frustration vanished behind another bimbo-smile. “That’s right, Pookie,” she cooed. “You’re such a humanitarian.”
“Well, I have to carry on the family tradition, don’t I?” he said, patting her ass indulgently.
“Oh? And what is this noble family tradition?” Riel asked.
Both Tawny and I shot him an ‘oh-God-don’t-get-him-started’ look, but it was futile. Riel remained oblivious to our psychic message and Harchman was already running off at the mouth.
Tawny caught me watching her and turned away to regard Harchman with rapt adoration, or an excellent facsimile of it. I transferred my attention to Riel. He was listening to Harchman’s account of his illustrious forebears with his usual attentive charm, nodding and exclaiming in all the right places. Only his tiny sidelong glances betrayed the fact that he was more interested in the interactions between the group than in Harchman’s interminable story.
Labelle stood with a fixed smile on his face, staring through Harchman with the unfocused gaze of a man bored beyond endurance but trying not to reveal it.
Beside me, Kane observed in silence, too, with only a slight stiffening of his shoulders when Harchman heaped praises on the late elder Harchman, an army general who had ‘saved so many lives in the Korean War with his brilliant leadership’.
Knowing that Kane considered most high-ranking officers to be megalomaniac paper-pushers who caused more casualties than they prevented, I moved a little closer, brushing my elbow against his.
“…and I made a very generous donation to the Poppy Fund this year…” Harchman blathered on, “…with the condition that I’d get to lay the first wreath at Battalion Park and make a speech about my father and today’s War On Terrorism. It’ll be perfect PR for my Terror Watch app; I’ll get huge publicity…”
Kane’s hand clenched around mine and I squeezed his in return, clamping my teeth on my tongue to prevent myself from lambasting Harchman for being such a slimy self-serving little prick.
The grip on my hand softened and the pad of Kane’s thumb lightly caressed the sensitive skin inside my wrist. Startled, I glanced up to see his gaze fixed on me with heated intensity.
I suddenly became aware of how close he was standing.
His arm grazing my right breast, stimulating every nerve to tingling alertness…
The intoxicating spicy scent that was pure Kane…
And the fact that although Riel was still nodding and prompting Harchman to further excesses of egotism, his attention was fixed on us.
Leaning into Kane, I let hot memories resurface, warming my face. Let Riel think we were totally wrapped up in each other. Better that than blowing my cover if he realized I’d made the connection to the Remembrance Day terrorist.
Kane turned toward me, closing out the rest of the group and gazing down into my eyes. His fingertips lightly traced the line of my jaw and even though I knew he was only acting, my breath shortened and my lips parted in unconscious invitation.
I vaguely registered Riel’s polite attempt to include us in the conversation. “And ‘ow about you, Monsieur Kane? ‘Ave you any noble family traditions?”
Kane feigned deafness, relinquishing his grasp on my hand to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer.
“Monsieur Kane…?” Riel repeated.
“…uh?” Kane did a creditable imitation of a man awakening from a trance. He dragged his gaze away from my face just long enough to include the rest of the group in a cursory attempt at politeness. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.” His glance at Tawny held a hint of accusation, but before she could react Kane went on, “I’m exhausted, and Arlene and I have some catching up to do. Will you please excuse us?”
“Yes, sorry,” I agreed. “Thank you again for the invitation…” I recalled too late that I hadn’t thanked them in the first place, but ignored that technicality and forged on. “…I don’t want to be rude…” Okay, that was a lie as well; I wanted to be extremely rude. “…but I’m exhausted, too.” I topped off my bullshit sundae with a fake smile. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Sure!” Tawny assured us with far too much enthusiasm, and Harchman nodded eagerly, too. “Brunch is at ten. Good night!”
Riel looked nonplussed for an instant before regaining his composure. “But of course. I wish you good evening. Per’aps we will meet in the spa tomorrow morning? I plan for a time in the mineral pool around eight-thirty.”
“Maybe we’ll see you there,” I agreed, and followed Kane’s gentle pull toward the door.
We left the house without speaking, but as soon as we were safely on the pathway outside I turned to whisper at Kane. “What are you doing here?”
He stopped and turned to face me, using the movement to disguise a tiny headshake.
Shit, he knew something I didn’t. My pulse ticked up.
“Meeting you, of course,” he said smoothly, and pulled me into his arms.
I forced a chuckle. “Bullshit. But…” I snuggled closer. “I like where this bullshit is going. As long as you don’t interfere with my business it’s all good.”
“Do I ever?” He trailed a line of kisses down my neck.
“Mmmm… nope, not yet. You’re a smart man.”
“I know.”
“And modest, too,” I teased.
“To a fault,” he agreed. “Wait until I get you alone, and you’ll see how modest I really am.” He nibbled the sensitive spot between my neck and collarbone, and I sucked in a breath.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I purred, and led the way back to the guesthouse.
As soon as we were inside my room, I moved close to Kane again, slipping my bug detector out of my purse. Holding it concealed between us, I sneaked a quick peek.
My heart gave a hard thump. Flashing red light.
Kane and I exchanged a single wide-eyed glance before he seized me in his arms, pushing me back against the door and kissing me hard.
I let out an aborted yelp that I converted hastily to a moan, and stuffed the bug detector back into my purse before returning the kiss with interest.
Growling low in his throat, Kane dominated my mouth, his hands roaming hungrily over my body. I gave a few more fake moans and upped the ante with some heavy breathing, doing some hand-roaming of my own. The knowledge that somebody was listening and/or watching gave me a creepy sensation, which intensified when I realized that warmth was pooling in parts of my body that should have been clenched with anxiety.
Kane’s scent filled my senses, generating fiery memories that weakened my knees and my willpower. Unbidden, my hands followed the ridges of muscle down his backbone to clutch an ass that should have been immortalized in marble.
His knee pushed between mine and I rode his thigh, the rough friction igniting heat from my belly button to my toes.
“John…” My voice came out in a ragged gasp.
His teeth clamped onto my collar and he jerked his head. The top button of my blouse opened with a pop, quickly followed by more pops as he nipped a tingling trail across to my shoulder. Pinning me against the door, he traced the line of my bra strap with little flicks of his tongue, working slowly down to my cleavage.
“Oh God John…” Pressing a hand down between us, I found the hard ridge in his pants and massaged it until he groaned and pulled me against him.
“Condoms,” he grated between harsh breaths. “I have condoms in my suitcase.”
“Hurry.” The whimper of need tore from my lips.
“Come with me.” Peeling us both away from the door, he dragged me outside and a few doors down the fortunately abandoned hallway.
As Kane jammed his cardkey into the lock, I registered several things simultaneously.
He had a room and a cardkey. Definitely not a prisoner.
He had a suitcase. He had known he was coming here.
He had condoms. Who had he intended to share them with?
And his hands were trembling.
Was it red-hot passion… or something else?
He yanked me into the room.