Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“You’ve checked things out,” Stern said. “You know there’s no one in here. You can go now.”
Ethan ignored him, just stood beside the front door, long legs splayed, in full bodyguard mode.
Val hid a smile. “Ethan’s a professional,” she said to Stern. “You won’t even know he’s here.”
Jason’s face went red. He looked like his head was about to explode. From the corner of her eye, she caught a hint of amusement in Ethan’s handsome face.
Fighting a grin, Val crossed the living room into the dining area. The polished mahogany table was large enough to seat eight. Through the windows, the glittering lights of Atlanta stretched for miles in the distance.
Stern moved behind her and pulled out her chair, waited for her to be seated, then pulled out a chair at the end of the table, seating himself beside instead of across from her.
An hour into the meal, Ethan’s amusement had faded, replaced by a dark look that turned into a scowl when Stern reached over and took hold of her hand. By then, Jason had emptied a bottle of Dom Perignon and served her the dinner waiting beneath the silver domes.
A kale salad with roasted hazelnuts, followed by fresh Atlantic halibut and baby peas, each course paired with a glass of vintage French wine, which Jason deliberately over-poured.
Though Val was determined not to let him get her drunk, she felt a little tipsy.
Perhaps that was the reason she started asking questions she probably shouldn’t. But she had been trying to think of a way to help Ethan with his murder investigation, and after what Meg had told her about Stern and Delilah, tonight presented the perfect opportunity.
Pretending to be drunker than she actually was, she leaned toward him across the table. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your giving me Delilah’s job, Jason. It’s a privilege to work with such a well-respected businessman.”
A smile drifted over his face. “Thank you, Valentine.”
She took a small sip of wine. “All the girls talk about you, you know. How handsome you are, how charming.” She softened her voice. “One of the girls told me you were seeing Delilah. I guess a lot of the models knew you were having an affair.”
A muscle tightened in his cheek. “Is that so?”
She ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Apparently, Delilah raved about your prowess in bed. She said you were a fantastic lover.”
Jason relaxed at that, almost preened. “All right, yes. Dee and I had an arrangement. It was pleasurable for both of us.”
“She said you gave her a fabulous diamond necklace. I never saw it, but I heard it was beautiful. Was that the one that was stolen?”
He shrugged. “It must have been. The police said it was missing from her safe.”
Val picked up her wineglass and took another sip. “I wonder . . . How do you suppose the thief knew where to find the necklace? I mean, how did he know about the safe? How did he know what was in it?”
Jason lifted his glass. “How would I know?”
“You must have thought about it, a brilliant man like you.” She smiled, pandering to his ego, hoping he would tell her something useful.
“Dee was in love with you, you know. At least that’s what the girls all think.
You’re smart and sexy, and incredibly handsome.
You knew her better than almost anyone. What do you think really happened that night? ”
His gaze drifted down the front of her dress, where only a glimpse of cleavage showed above the simple scooped neckline.
He looked at her across the table. “I think whoever killed her knew her, knew about the diamonds and where she kept them. I think she made him or someone else very angry.” His lips edged into the faintest of smiles.
“She wasn’t sweet like you, Valentine. Dee was very self-centered.
At times she could be quite unpleasant. Perhaps someone paid her back for something she did. ”
Her pulse took a leap. She managed to frown. “I thought it was the man who wrote those terrible notes, but maybe . . . I don’t know . . . maybe she knew the man who sent them. Maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.”
He sipped his wine. “Maybe not. Of course whatever happened, no one deserves to be murdered.”
“No, of course not.”
Still holding her hand, Jason turned it over, brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her palm. “Then again, if she were still alive, I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.”
His eyes remained on her face, his intention clear. His bed hadn’t been turned down for nothing. Val swallowed. She’d gone too far. She glanced at Ethan. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but even from a distance, she could read the cold fury on his face.
Jason laced his fingers with hers. “Why don’t you tell your bodyguard to go back to the hotel? You’re safe here. I’ll personally see you back to your suite whenever you’re ready to go.”
Oh, dear God! Val tugged on her hand, trying to free it. Stern merely tightened his hold. Then he smiled and released her.
Val rose from her chair on shaky legs. “I appreciate the offer, Jason, but I really have to follow the rules. And as we discussed, I have an early TV appearance in the morning.”
Before he could argue, she turned and started walking toward the door.
She stopped in front of Ethan, tried not to flinch at his hard glare. “I’m ready to go back, Ethan. Thank you for bringing me tonight.”
His features didn’t soften. “Just doing my job, Ms. Hart.” Pulling open the door, he stepped out into the hall to check their surroundings, then stood back and waited for her to leave.
Val turned to the man still standing next to the table, who was every bit as angry as Ethan. “Good night, Jason. Thank you for the lovely supper.”
Stern didn’t say a word as she turned and walked out of the suite.
Neither did Ethan. Not a single word till they were back at the Four Seasons in her own suite of rooms, the door firmly closed behind them. Val didn’t have to wait long for the explosion she knew was certain to come.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” His dark glare hadn’t lessened since they’d left the St. Regis.
“I was getting information,” Val said. “I was trying to help you.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “That slimy bastard. I can still smell his cologne on you. Five more minutes and I’d have jerked him up from the table and knocked his pretty white-capped teeth down his throat.”
She rested her palm on Ethan’s chest, hoping to calm him, felt the too-rapid beating of his heart. “You were there. I knew I was safe.”
He grabbed her hand and turned it over, stared down at the place Jason had kissed. “I hated watching him touch you. I hated seeing him put his mouth on you. If you’re going to carry a man’s scent, it’s going to be mine.”
Val gasped as he hauled her against him and his mouth crushed down over hers. It was a hard kiss, and demanding, a reminder that she was his, not Jason Stern’s. She gripped his shoulders just to stay on her feet, whimpered as he buzzed her zipper down and shoved the black dress off her shoulders.
Ethan unhooked the black lace bra she wore underneath, tossed it away, and filled his hands with her breasts.
He lifted and stroked them, tongued them as if he owned them, slid his palms down over her hips to cup her bottom and pull her against his rigid sex.
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
“I don’t know where this thing between us is going, but as long as we’re together, you’re mine. I won’t share you. And you won’t be going to any more meetings with Jason Stern.”
He framed her face between his hands and kissed her, holding her in place as he ravished her mouth.
Heat and need poured through her, and hot, wet desire.
She could feel his heavy arousal, feel his barely leashed anger, held in check only by his iron control.
He was a man’s man, a true alpha male. When he possessed a woman, she belonged to him.
She should have found the notion offensive. She was an independent woman who had been on her own for years. Instead, she felt desired in a way she never had been before.
When the long kiss ended, she reached down and caught his hand, kicked off her black high heels, and led him through the bedroom into the bathroom. He wanted Stern’s scent gone? Well, so did she.
The bathroom was huge, black-and-white marble with a big Roman tub and a monster shower with multiple heads.
Catching her intent, Ethan locked the bathroom door while Val turned on the water.
Ethan shrugged out of his blazer and tossed it over the vanity stool, took off his shoulder holster and laid it on the marble counter.
Val watched as he pulled his black T-shirt off over his head and stripped off his jeans, appreciated the view of his amazing, hard-muscled body. There was a scar on his shoulder she had noticed before. She’d ask about it later.
Ethan tossed a foil packet up on the ledge in the shower, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. And dear God, the man could kiss.
By the time he’d finished, she was mindless and quivering, her black hip-hugger panties missing, her hairpins gone, her heavy curls loose around her shoulders.
Ethan lifted her into the shower, setting her on her feet beneath the warm spray, then stepped in behind her and closed the thick glass door. Soaping his hands, he began to lather her all over, reaching around to coat her breasts with thick white suds, gliding his palms around the fullness.
She moaned as he reached down and soaped her sex, soaped her back and bottom. In seconds he had her panting, nearing the edge of climax.
“Put your palms on the wall,” he commanded, nipping the side of her neck as he continued his relentless soapy assault.
Val trembled. Hot and achy, she leaned over and rested her hands on the smooth, slick marble. Moving behind her, Ethan nudged her legs apart, gripped her hips, and slid himself deeply inside.
“Mine,” he whispered as he began to move, easy at first, giving her time to adjust to him, then driving deep, taking her hard, sending her into a climax that drenched her in pleasure and totally rocked her world.
She’d explain about Stern later, she thought vaguely as she began to drift down, tell him what Jason had said. But the thought slipped away as Ethan kept moving, as her body tightened again, and she tumbled into pleasure once more.