CHAPTER THREE
Inside the dining room the next morning, Ice stood next to Bailey with her hand tucked into his and reminded himself how much he thoroughly enjoyed this mission. Although they had just begun, he was pleasantly surprised how agreeable Bailey had been so far. He wasn’t so naïve to believe that would continue, but he’d already prepared himself to turn her expected resistance around and use it to his advantage.
Sleeping beside her had been a helluva test of his self-control. She failed to mention how much of a bed hog she was and when he awoke to find her very soft, creamy thigh draped over his and her round, firm breast pressed against his abs, it had taken everything in him not to roll over and mount her right then and there. Thankfully – solely for her benefit – she slept like the dead and he extricated himself without incident. After a cold shower and several cups of strong, hot coffee, he managed to get his mind back in the game.
“Ice.” Bailey squeezed his hand and redirected his attention from the bedroom and onto a tall, matronly woman who now stood in front of them. The hostess, he assumed. “Our table is ready.”
He and Bailey followed her to a table in one corner. Once she set the menus on the table and left them alone, he held out a chair for Bailey and then sat in the empty chair across from her.
“Do you have the lowdown on the staff?”
She nodded. “The hostess who brought us to the table is Barbara Coleman. She hasn’t been employed here long and I don’t know much about her.”
He gazed over her head when he caught movement in his peripheral vision. “There’s a tall, blonde woman walking toward us.”
“Thin and knock-out gorgeous?”
He moved his gaze back to Bailey and grinned. “Thin and attractive enough.”
“Good answer. That’s Tianna Olander, the Entertainment Director.” Bailey gave her a smile as she approached. “Tianna, it’s nice to see you again!”
“You too, Bailey.” She reached to squeeze Bailey’s hand. “Are you going to take one of my classes this time?”
“Maybe.” Bailey glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, and then glanced back at the other woman. “I need a partner, right?”
“Depends on which class you’re interested in. I have a Salsa dancing class that is really a lot of fun.”
Ice released a slow, easy breath and then inhaled a new one just as slowly. Salsa dancing? Was she serious? No way could he convince his cock to cooperate with Bailey’s body slung all over his. Hell, even clothing couldn’t keep her safe.
“Tyson, this is Tianna Olander, the Entertainment Director here at the resort.” He didn’t miss Bailey’s dismissal of the dancing invitation. “Tianna, this is Tyson Arnett, my guest for the weekend.”
He extended a hand to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, Tianna.”
“You too,” she said as she shook his hand. “Perhaps you can talk Bailey into dancing.”
“Perhaps.”
“I have a beginner’s class tomorrow afternoon. The time allows some of the staff members to participate.”
Bailey nodded. “We’ll have to consider it.”
“Please do.” Tianna looked over one shoulder and then lowered her voice. “I suppose you heard about Jack.”
Bailey shook her head. “Yes. That’s just awful.”
“Everyone’s very shaken. Jack was a good guy.” She gave a small smile. “Enjoy your breakfast. If you decide to dance tomorrow morning, wear your swimsuit and a pair of heels. I’ll see you around.”
He waited for Tianna to leave and then glanced back at Bailey. “She’s been here awhile?”
“Yes. She and her husband, Gus, have worked here since the resort opened. Gus is the Food Service Manager.”
“I caught a slight accent. She’s not American.”
“No, she and Gus are both Swedish.”
“There’s no chance she was stepping out on her husband with Overton, is there?”
“Absolutely none.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I didn’t know Jack all that well, but I do know Tianna. She’s head over heels in love with her husband, and he with her. Wait until you see them together, it’s quite obvious.”
He accepted Bailey’s explanation for the moment. “Who’s the woman at the bar?”
“Short brunette?”
He nodded.
“Sandra Watson.”
“She serves an impressive amount of alcohol before ten o’clock in the morning.”
“She knows the clientele well.”
“I assume she’s an old-timer as well.”
“Yes. Only Barbara Coleman, the hostess, and several of the kitchen staff are new. All of the administrative staff has been here from inception.”
He nodded and paused as their server arrived with two mugs of coffee. Bailey nearly yanked it out of the woman’s hand.
“Tyson, this is Angelica. Angelica, Tyson.” She added her usual vanilla creamer and sugar to her coffee while she made introductions.
“Nice to meet you.” Angelica grinned. “Bailey can’t function much before her morning milkshake.”
He returned the younger woman’s grin. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Are you guys ready to order?”
Bailey spoke first. “Wheat toast and vanilla yogurt.”
His stomach churned. Healthy eating was one thing but her request did not sound the least bit appetizing.
Angelica nodded. “Yoga?”
“Yoga,” Bailey answered.
“And you, Tyson?”
He winced. The one negative part about undercover was using his name. He always felt like he was in trouble. “Pancakes and eggs.”
“No yoga for you?”
“No.”
Angelica returned her order pad to her apron and then wrapped her fingers around the menus. “Did you hear about Jack?”
Bailey nodded. “Daniel told us last night.”
“It’s just awful.” The server shook her head. “Things like that just don’t happen here.”
“Daniel mentioned he might’ve had some personal issues.”
The other woman shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that but he was such a nice guy. He always escorted me to the ferry dock when I worked late.”
“He was very well-liked,” Bailey agreed.
“Your order shouldn’t take long.”
As soon as they were alone again, he redirected the conversation. Murder was such a downer.
“How did you sleep last night?”
“Fine. What about you?”
Hard as a rock. “Fine.”
“Did I crowd you? I have a tendency to sprawl out.”
No kidding. “Not at all.” He grinned. “And you don’t snore.”
A pretty pink blush covered her cheeks and he fought the urge to caress the surface with his thumbs.
“Good to know,” she mumbled.
She flicked the corner of her menu with her middle finger and he mentally groaned. He could give her plenty to do with those fingers. Time to change the subject.
“If we take that dance class, we might have the opportunity to find out if anyone knows anything about Overton.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to take Salsa dancing lessons?”
“Why not?” He shrugged. “I’ve never done it before.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Under one condition.”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Lay it on me.”
“You conquer your fear of the water.”
She tilted her head to one side, silent for a few brief seconds, as if she weighed the pros and cons of his offer. He bit back a smirk. If she only knew how much he feared Salsa dancing, she wouldn’t be so hesitant.
“Maybe,” she said finally.
“No maybe. I’m not dancing if you won’t brave the water.”
“The swimming pool?”
He nodded. “It’s a start.”
“When?”
He shrugged. “Whenever.”
“How do you know I’ll keep my end of the bargain?”
“After you see my Salsa moves, you will.”
She smiled, lifted her cup, took a sip of the hot beverage, and then set it back on the table. “I planned on attending a yoga class on the beach after breakfast. Would you like to join me?”
“No.”
She giggled. “You like yoga about as much as I do the water.”
“Not my thing. I need to check in with Diesel and Harvard anyway.”
“You’re allowing me to go alone?”
“I’ll walk you down and meet you afterwards.”
“Sure you don’t want to participate?”
“Positive.”
“Okay,” Her gaze sparkled over her coffee cup. “Just remember, flexibility comes in very handy.”
After breakfast, Ice returned to the suite with Bailey to grab her yoga equipment and then left her at the beach to commune with the other nature lovers at the resort. He enjoyed peace and serenity himself, but enjoying it in the company of attractive women in skimpy bathing suits didn’t exactly relax him.
In desperate need of distraction from Bailey’s flexibility, he settled into the sofa pillows and clicked the Watchdogs, Inc. icon on his phone.
Harvard answered the call. “How’s it going in the lap of luxury?”
“Not bad. The place is a castle. Do we want to talk or video chat?”
“Let’s just talk. I’m placing you on speaker phone. Diesel’s here too.”
Ice heard the familiar click and then Diesel spoke in the background. “I heard from Hummingbird Bay PD this morning. Preliminary police reports indicate the victim was Jack Overton, employed by the Sea Gull Regency as the security manager for the last five years.”
“Do we have a background?”
“Clean, as expected. No contact with law enforcement other than in the scope of duty. CLEET certified and licensed to carry a firearm.”
“Was he armed at the time of death?”
“Prior. Forensics indicate our perp used Overton’s weapon as the murder weapon.”
He winced. That fact only added insult to injury.
“It was left behind at the scene,” Harvard added. “No fingerprints, of course.”
“Professional?”
“Maybe, or just smart enough to cover his tracks.”
“Cameras?”
“Everywhere except inside the rooms.”
“Do we have a picture of who entered the room?”
Harvard answered. “No, the film is clean. Once Mr. and Mrs. Decker left for the evening, no one else entered or exited until they returned. Mrs. Decker reported the incident approximately three minutes after the cameras recorded her entrance.”
“What about the key reader?”
“One of the keys registered to the Deckers is the only one recorded at eleven fifty p.m.”
“Then how the hell did our guy get inside the room?”
“Two possibilities: he scaled the outside of the building or the film was scrubbed.”
“Both take skill, which leads me to believe we’re dealing with either a professional or a lunatic.”
“Or a professional lunatic.”
“Did you get a staff roster?”
“Affirmative,” Diesel answered. “Harvard checked out all of them.”
“What about David Green?”
“Assistant Security Manager. Clean background. Carries the same type of weapon issued to Overton, which is present and accounted for,” Harvard relayed. “His alibi checks out for the time of death. He was in the front lobby, dealing with a belligerent VIP.”
“Do we have an official cause of death?”
The sound of clicking computer keys told him Harvard was at the keyboard. “Gunshot wound to the back of the head. Evidence indicates the victim was murdered inside the closet.”
“Any reason he was inside the room?”
“Still a mystery. Since he was the security manager, the assumption is that someone reported a disturbance but the incident wasn’t logged.”
“Is that unusual?”
“According to the report, no. They don’t log every call since most are false alarms.”
Diesel cleared his throat. “What do you have on the staff?”
“Daniel Santana is the General Manager and has been since inception. Typical, three-piece suite executive type. Hispanic with an average build and hell-bent on protecting the resort and the guests from the incident.”
“His background is clean,” Harvard added, “and his alibi checks out. He was at the Guest Services Counter.”
“Any other security?” Diesel pressed.
“Only Green.”
Ice continued to relay information. “The Concierge is a Frenchman named Francois Gerard, Santana’s right-hand man. High-strung guy, focused on guest satisfaction.”
“According to security footage, he was at his usual station behind the Concierge podium at time of death,” Harvard confirmed.
“Santana indicated Overton may have had personal issues due to his scheduling some personal leave but I haven’t been able to confirm that. According to the staff I spoke to, he was well-liked and an all-around good guy. Bailey hasn’t heard any rumors of affairs or relationships.”
“Any disgruntled guests?”
“Not that I’ve found. I’ll have more of an opportunity to nose around some more tomorrow morning.”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“Salsa dancing.”
“What the hell?” the captain drawled.
“I made Bailey a deal,” he muttered. “Long story.”
“Whatever you bargained for better be worth it.” Harvard snickered. “Good luck with that.”
A ringing cell phone interrupted and Ice wondered if the fates were suddenly on his side. At least they could table the discussion on Salsa for the moment. Conversation in the background proved it was Diesel who received the call.
“I’ve got to go,” the captain said finally. “Keep us updated.”
Diesel smirked as he left the compound and drove the distance to Bailey’s house. When Rick Ferguson from the Hummingbird Bay PD had called him to report a burglary, his first thought was that he was in deep trouble. Never mind the house, Bailey would have his head on a platter if Trista was in danger. Then, when the detective explained that he only needed him to verify Trista’s identity, he agreed to do just that – in person. He had to admit, he was curious as hell why Ferguson would mistake Trista for a burglar, and better yet, why the detective didn’t recognize her. Maybe her thought that most people didn’t was correct.
As soon as he arrived at the house, he drove his truck into the driveway and parked between a police car with flashing red and blue lights and a solid white detective’s car. He exited his vehicle, nodded at the uniform in the black-and-white, and then walked toward two other people who stood on the grass outside the front door.
Trista stood next to Ferguson with her arms crossed over her chest and with a very distressed look over her lovely face while the detective looked relieved to see him. Piercing sirens vibrated the air around them. Immediately, he pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket and pressed four numbers to silence the screamer.
“Oh, Diesel! Thank God you’re here!” She placed a hand to the base of her throat. “Please tell this gentleman I’m not a burglar.”
Behind his Aviators, he moved his gaze from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and then back again. Dressed in a tight, short-sleeved, black, v-cut top that showcased an amazing rack, and an equally black pair of pants that hugged her hips, she represented the perfect cat burglar. Although, he doubted very seriously the black hooker heels that wrapped her feet would allow her to make a quick, quiet get-away.
He worked very hard not to grin. “You’re not?”
“No!”
“I don’t know.” He moved a hand to squeeze his chin in mock contemplation. “You look dressed to case the place.”
Ferguson cleared his throat.
“Funny. It’s your fault I’m under scrutiny anyway.”
“Really,” he drawled. “How so?”
“You let me in the house, remember?”
“I do.”
“You didn’t bother to tell me the place locks itself down like Ft. Knox when I leave.”
“You have a code.”
“Yes, but you also failed to tell me that it can only be entered three times in a row before I’m locked out completely.”
Damn. She had a point; it had slipped his mind.
“Actually, it’s Ice’s fault. Bailey doesn’t follow orders as well as he’d like.” He turned and nodded at the detective. “Thanks, Rick. I’ll call the security company.”
He waited until the other man was out of earshot and then turned his attention back to the femme fatale next to him. “What is it about you women and black?”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Sexiest color on the planet,” he mumbled. “Too damn distracting.”
A cock-strangling giggle left her throat and he shifted his weight from one hip to the other.
“I don’t know about sexy, but it is slimming.”
He opened his mouth to argue the finer points of her slim figure but then quickly decided against it; that argument could either go very, very well or very, very badly. Instead, he palmed his cell phone and dialed. He authorized the alarm reset and then disconnected.
“Can I trust you with the code?”
She stood silent for a moment, one eyebrow lifted as if she carefully considered his question. Hell, he only meant to tease her. Another second passed and then the slow, easy smile that split her lips almost made him tremble.
“Well, that’s really up to you, Mr. Big.” She took two steps forward into his personal space and moved her finger along his jawbone. “If you do, your work here is done. If you don’t, you’ll have to take me and my sexy, black outfit to your sofa.”
***
Later that evening, Ice stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and damn near cried like a baby as his gaze landed on Bailey. Stretched out on her side of the bed while propped on two pillows with her ankles crossed and a magazine in her hands, she looked up and gave him a definite wicked smile. Obviously she knew exactly how difficult it would be for him to lie next to her without touching, and the smile was only a very minute part of the problem.
He folded his arms across his chest and braced one hip against the doorjamb. “That’s not what you slept in last night.”
Where the hell were the long, stretchy pants and t-shirt? Tonight, she wore a bright blue nightgown thing that touched the tops of her thighs with thin straps that wrapped her shoulders. Her breasts nearly spilled over the top and from his observation they weren’t boosted by anything. No, those perfect handfuls of flesh with now-erect nipples smiled just as wickedly as she.
Holy Mary, Mother of God. This was not a good idea. Nuh-uh, not at all.
“It’s just a nightgown, Ice. To be honest, your body is a heater and I got warm last night.”
Yeah, he’d been an inferno himself, but that didn’t compel him to remove his clothing. He unfolded his arms, pushed himself off the doorjamb, and managed a quick peek at the still-behaving beast between his legs as he approached his side of the bed. So far, so good.
“Good night.”
He managed to shed his jeans, slide under the sheet without incident, and turn on his side with his back to her. Out of sight, out of mind.
Yeah, sure.
“Good night, Ice.”
Once he heard the magazine slap the nightstand beside her and then the click of the switch of the lamp, he released a slow, steady breath. If he could block out the image of these crisp, cool sheets caressing her beautiful body beneath that sorry-excuse-for-a-nightgown, he’d simply sleep off the temptation.
And for several minutes, he actually believed that load of bull until she laid a hand on his right biceps.
“Ice, are you asleep?”
He released a hard breath, desperately trying to ignore his frustration, and then rolled to face her. Although the room was dark, his gaze zeroed in on her chest.
“No, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just not sleepy.”
“Want me to turn on the TV?”
“No.” She gave a soft sigh. “I thought we could talk.”
Okay, talking was good. Although, he highly doubted that even murder could distract him at this point.
“Sure, what about?”
“I don’t know, anything really.”
“Are you nervous about being here?”
“No, thanks to you I feel very safe. Should I be concerned?”
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Bailey.”
“You rarely worry.”
“No,” he admitted. “My training prevents it.”
“Ice, do you ever miss being in the Navy?”
“Sometimes I miss the parts out of combat. I don’t miss war.”
“Like traveling the world?”
“That was a rush, but no. I prefer the stability of home. Besides, I know a great travel agent if I want to leave.”
“What about your team?”
“I miss the guys we lost, but thanks to Diesel I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by most of my team.”
“How come you’ve never settled down?”
“You mean with a woman?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never found the right one, I guess. What about you?”
“Same reason, I suppose. That and the fact that I travel extensively. I don’t even have houseplants.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“I’m not stubborn, I’m confident.”
“Sure you are.”
He bent one arm at the elbow and then lifted his head to rest it on his hand. “You are stubborn, opinionated, and difficult, but you are also extremely intelligent, compassionate, and kind.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “And I like you just the way you are.”
“You annoy the heck out of me.” She giggled softly. “But I like you too, Ice.”
He groaned. “Bailey, I’m trying like hell to be a gentleman here but between your confession and your slinky choice of sleepwear, it’s almost impossible.”
“I respect your effort.” Rustling sheets told him she moved closer to him and then her hands were pressed flat against his chest while her fingers massaged the indentions of his pecs. “But I think you should throw in the towel.”
His cock immediately swelled and he pulled her flush against him. “I don’t have anything to protect you.”
“Oh – “
He placed a finger across her lips. “But I’ll show you how to get around that.”
With no reason remaining to stop him, he moved both hands to her hips and rolled her on top of him while he lay flat on his back. He then moved one hand to the base of her neck and urged her lips to meet his.
She released a tiny whimper and then the warm, pliant woman in his arms morphed into a wild hellcat, opening her mouth over his and rotating her hips against his hard cock. The fabric of her panties nearly rubbed him raw with the force of her motion while her breasts caressed the surface of his chest.
His tongue left his mouth to meet hers, almost devouring more than kissing her. Undeniable need passed between them and he wondered if it was even remotely possible to satisfy it. Desperate to try, he moved his hands to the top of her gown and gently slid the straps from her shoulders. Much to his delight, her breasts fell into his palms.
He closed the kiss while his fingertips traced her pebbled nipples. “Easy baby, we’ll get there.”
“You feel so good,” she murmured.
He released her nipples to cup the weight of her breasts in both palms. “It only gets better.”
He moved one hand to grip one of her hips and then slipped the other hand between her legs. Heat seeped from beneath her panties and warmed his skin as he cupped her mound.
“Smooth and slow.” He guided her hip movement as she rocked against his greedy cock, taking care to make sure he nudged her sweet spot along the way.
“Oh, yes. Right there,” she moaned.
On the next forward stroke, he eased his index finger under her panties and pressed it against her hot, wet clit. She responded by grinding harder against him.
“Feels good, doesn’t it baby?”
“So good.”
He increased the speed of his assault on her flesh, both impatient and patient for her to finish.
“Ah, God,” she panted, “don’t stop. Don’t even think about stopping.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
With several more rotations of both her hips and his finger, she released a throaty moan while she pressed her hips solidly to his cock and her body shuddered. Suddenly her panties and the fly of his boxer briefs were soaked. He smiled in the dark. This woman had been thoroughly satisfied.
“Do you need a high-five?” she asked over a sigh.
He removed his finger from her body, pressed her flush against him, and massaged her lower back muscles. “Do you have night vision?”
“No.” She giggled and his cock twitched. “I just figured you were pretty proud of yourself.”
“Should I be?”
“Most definitely.” She pressed several small kisses to the surface of his chest. “But now I get to return the favor.”
She moved down his body, pressing kisses to each bare patch of skin along the way until she stopped at the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
“Be gentle,” he told her as he buried both hands into her hair.
“My pleasure.”
He lifted his hips and when she peeled back his clothing, his cock sprang free and demanded her absolute attention. Without hesitation, she leaned over the impatient beast, released a long, hot breath, and then closed her mouth over his length.
His hips thrust of their own accord, sending him further into the confines of her mouth, and her throat muscles closed around him and gripped him in a nice, tight suction, rendering him helpless for the moment. Pure, sweet satisfaction coated his nerves and made him drunk with desire. She loosened her hold and moved her mouth up his shaft to his overly-sensitive head where her tongue dipped into the slit and then over the smooth surface. Her hand then wrapped the base of his cock.
“So hard,” she murmured as she squeezed him tight in her fist and began to stroke.
He released his hold on her hair and settled into her tempo, hopeful that he could hold on long enough to enjoy her ministrations for a few minutes at least. Her nice, tight strokes continued to fuel the need for release and his abdominals burned with the force of his attempt to hold back. He had no desire to escape the ecstasy of being wrapped in her soft, capable, talented hands while she stroked him to satisfaction.
Except, she had a different plan.
Just about the time he gathered a sense of control, she lowered her head and again took him into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat.
“Gee-zus, Bailey,” he growled as her muscles taunted him. “I can’t hold back any longer.”
Undeterred, she moved her hand to the base of his cock and stroked while she continued to suck. The pleasure was suddenly too intense. He groaned and thrust his hips one last time and released his seed deep into her throat.
He lay helpless for a moment, held hostage by incredible satisfaction as she finally released him and lay back beside him.
He finally turned on one side to face her. “You are incredible.” He placed a soft kiss to her swollen lips. “Can you sleep now?”
“Yes, like a baby.”
He grinned and reached to return her straps to her shoulders. “Turn over.”
He waited until she lay with her back to him and then covered her with the sheet and pulled her back into the curve of his body.
“Sleep,” he said against her hair. “You’ll need your strength for next time.”
***
He paced from one end of the room to the other while he ran a hand across the top of his head. He hadn’t planned on this type of interference and now the situation was severely complicated. He had absolutely no idea about how to explain it, let alone deal with it, but he had no choice.
He stopped next to the window and gazed out into the clear, pitch black sky. Things were going so smoothly until these unexpected intrusions changed everything. Her intervention, however, surprised him. Resigned to the fact that he now had a major problem, he reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved his cell phone, and pressed buttons.
“I am ready to make another delivery,” the other voice on the other end said as soon as the call connected.
“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible at the current time.”
“That is not acceptable.”
“I’m hoping it is a temporary setback.”
“What is the issue?”
He hesitated to answer but knew he must. “Someone is questioning the appearance of the corpse.”
“Your decision haunts you.”
“Yes.”
“Who is this?”
“Bailey King, a travel agent from Hummingbird Bay.”
“Why is she interested?”
“Ninety percent of the resort’s clientele is referred by Ms. King.”
His associate’s response was immediate. “Persuade her.”
“She’s not one to be persuaded. Her reputation is valued.”
“Send her a subtle warning.”
“I don’t think I can do that without causing more suspicion.”
“Why are you so hesitant?” His accomplice’s disgust was evident.
“She is accompanied by a male companion, one that instinct tells me not to threaten.”
“Explain.”
“Physically, he is large and solid; he can’t be taken out easily. His demeanor portrays that of someone who wouldn’t think twice about making the first, fatal move.”
An evil chuckle crossed the line. “So, you are afraid.”
Terrified. “Cautious,” he answered.
“The delivery will proceed as planned. You will make sure nothing or no one interferes. Do I need to explain why?”
“No.”
“Good. I will contact you upon completion.”