Chapter 4 #2
The steps gave way to a small brick path neatly hidden by the landscape.
Exotic flowers blossomed along the side, creating a more intoxicating scent than any perfume she’d ever sampled.
They turned a corner into a clearing. Nestled among the tropical foliage was a stone gazebo complete a daybed and fire pit.
Callum held out his hand, showing her up the steps.
“Now look,” he said, pointing out at the horizon.
Hints of pink and purple now mingling with the darker greys. The sun slipped deeper and deeper into the ocean as it pushed itself to the edge of the earth. “It looks like you could reach out and touch it,” she breathed.
“It sure does.”
“Is it like this all the time?”
“Every time there’s a sunset.” He came up close behind her. “I actually sleep out here sometimes. The bed is really comfortable and the fire is warm. Best night sleep around.”
Dusk had snuck up on them, turning the blue sky to smoky grey.
Brielle turned back to the house, reaching her hand out in front of her.
It was light enough to still see, but dark enough not to trust her steps.
“Here, take my hand,” he said, like he’d heard her.
His fingers brushed across her palm, lightly gripping her pinkie.
“You okay?” he asked when they came back through the sliding glass doors.
“I’m fine,” she replied, and meant it.
“Good because I want to show you my favorite part of the place.”
He walked around the pool then pressed a hidden button on the side of the fireplace.
There was a hum then a click before a pair of doors opened to the master bedroom.
“This is what really sold me on the house.” Callum explained.
“The pool connects from the main room to the bedroom through that stone cave. It’s a grotto. ”
She would have been impressed by the pool if the bedroom itself wasn’t so magnificent.
Completely encased in glass, it had a cathedral ceiling, hand carved oak furniture, and a four post bed.
The one stucco wall was textured with intricate hand painted designs and coordinated with the oriental rugs on the heated stone floor.
“I know it’s a lot of windows, but the glass is that special kind where no one can see in.”
“Callum, this place is phenomenal,” she beamed, sitting down on the bed. “Don’t tell me you decorated this yourself.”
He shook his head. “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, hire a friend’s sister.”
“I figured. You don’t strike me as an interior designer type.”
“Maybe not.” He winked as he leaned against the door frame. “But I’ve got other talents.”
She sensed the suggestion in his words and she pretended not to let on.
Instead, she examined the black velvet comforter impressed by the rich feel of the fabric.
“Got to hand it to you, Harrison, I was expecting a loft over some bar with empty pizza boxes and stained carpeting. But this…you’ve impressed me. ”
“Come on, a girl like you sees places like this all the time.”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve stayed in my share of luxury hotels and villas, but that is when I’m on the road,” she lay back on the bed and sighed. “I’ve never actually lived in my own house.”
“Oh yeah? What about the place you’re in now?”
“It’s owned by the Vitalie School. I sort of rent it from Anston.”
She gazed out the glass ceiling above her. Clouds spilled across the half-moon casting ghostly shadows across the room. The muffled roar of the rising tide coaxed her eyes to close. She breathed in deep, enticed by the scent of Callum’s musky cologne lingering on the linens.
“I should get you home to sleep,” she heard him say. “You played hard today. I’m worried you’ll be sore in the morning.”
As comfortable as she was right now, that was hard to believe. She sat back up and stared at him still in the doorway. “Callum, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Do you…well…do like me?”
His brow wrinkled. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
She was sure nothing, but for some reason the question was incredibly important at this moment. “I don’t know, I just thought I’d ask.”
He walked into the room, and sat down beside her, farther away than she’d bargained for.
His eyes were fixed in front of him, as if searching for the right words to say.
“Brielle, I work for you. Your father is paying me for a service. Now, I admit I didn’t read my contract, but I’m sure making a pass at the client is against the rules. ”
She smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s in there somewhere.”
“I know I only met you a few days ago, but I feel like I have a pretty good read on you. If you’re afraid, you’ve got every right to be. What happened to you warrants it. But if you’re afraid of me, I’m telling you now, there’s no reason to be.”
He was facing her now, his crystal blue eyes meeting hers.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered. ”Really.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded, the lump in her throat impeding her speech.
“Good. And to answer your question, yes, I do like you.”
Callum reached up and gently ran his hand through her hair. It came out of nowhere, the gesture, but felt so natural. She leaned into it, fading into the heat of his touch, then tipped her face up, shut her eyes and closed the distance between them.
His mouth was warm and surprisingly gentle. Those big, burly hands cupped her cheeks and his thumb pads traced the line of her jaw. She tasted the wine on his tongue. Sweet with spice, familiar and dangerous all at once. Enough to make her heart race and her breath disappear.
The sudden vibration of a phone startled them both. “Damn it,” he mumbled, sliding his cell from his pocket. His face clouded when he looked at the caller ID. “It’s your father. I’m sorry but I have to answer it.”
“I know.” Brielle’s voice came out smaller than she wanted it to. She eased back just an inch, her pulse still racing, her mouth still warm from his.
Callum hesitated for half a second with his eyes still on her, thumb brushing lightly along her cheek like he was reluctant to let her go. Then he turned away, lifting the phone to his ear.
“Frank,” he answered, the word clipped and controlled.
Brielle stayed still, watching the shift happen in real time, the man who’d just kissed her disappearing behind the bodyguard again. The air between them cooled, thick with things neither of them could say.
“Callum Harrison!” The deep voice bellowed through the earpiece. “I was wondering if I would hear from you. I told the boys the only thing that would keep you in on a Friday night would be a good solid lead. You got any good news for me?”
Callum sat down at the kitchen counter and scowled at the bedroom door. “Unfortunately, no. But it’s good you called. I have a few questions for you that I thought you might be able to shed some light on.”
“Go ahead.”
“What do you know about Geoffrey Martin?”
Callum smiled when there was a pause on Franks’s end.
Even the best of liars needed a moment to frame their thoughts.
“I don’t know,” Frank began. “He’s a good businessman, which is probably why people hate him so much.
But he’s made Brielle a whole hell of a lot of money.
And he loves her. With him she’ll have a home and family. I couldn’t have planned it better.”
Callum raised an eyebrow, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper off the counter. “I feel like something isn’t right about him. I’d talk to him myself but he’s out of the country.”
“You really think he has something to do with Brielle’s attack?”
“It’s too early to rule anyone out.” Callum tapped the pen against the paper, waiting for a response.
Frank wasn’t stupid and never sloppy. Giving up pertinent information on a casual phone conversation was something he killed people over.
Fat chance he would do it himself. “I just want to cover my bases. I figure Geoffrey Martin would be a good place to start.”
“Sounds good, Harrison. Listen, the gang is heading out this weekend. Over to the Eager Beaver. A little food, a little drink. I thought you could bring my daughter out. Maybe she’d want to spend some time with her Dad.”
“Nice. I was thinking we could use a night out.” He turned back to the bedroom door. “Have a cold one for me.”
“Already planned on it.”
Callum hung up and dropped the phone to the counter. A night out with Brielle’s dad was nothing to look forward to, but he could think of something that was. He ran his tongue over his lips. He added “bad timing” to the long list of things he hated about Big Frank.
He headed back toward the bedroom and noticed the light had been turned off.
That had been the plan all along, to keep Brielle at the beach house.
She’d be safer at his place while he slipped out for the meeting, and if she was already asleep, his departure would be easier to justify.
As much as he wanted to finish what they’d started, he told himself he wasn’t willing to steal her sleep, or leave her tangled in questions she was better off not asking.
He slipped inside the room, allowing a moment just to look at her.
She was huddled under the covers with her cherry lips parted and her golden hair splayed across the pillow like a halo.
If he were smarter, he would consider maybe it was she who was undervover.
She was the one who kissed him after all.
But there was something that made him believe she was genuine.
He had to. Otherwise, how could he explain his attraction to the devil’s spawn?
Callum didn’t look back when he shut the bedroom door.
The streetlights blurred past as he drove, the city unfolding in its familiar grid. Normally the ride gave him space to decompress and to draw a clean line between work and whatever passed for a personal life. Lately, that line had blurred beyond recognition.