After she’d taken that, he kissed her forehead, covered her with a soft knit throw, turned the television down low and literally watched her doze off.
Twice last night he’d awakened when she shifted around, trying to get comfortable. He should have realized why she was restless. Instead he’d tortured himself by spooning her, feeling her plump behind pressed to his groin, draping one arm over her waist. Her soft hair had teased his nose, and the rest of her teased him everywhere else. It had taken a little while, but eventually he’d faded back to sleep.
Had she?
Without the alarm jarring him awake, he’d slept till his usual 5:00 a.m. When he awoke, Cat was already alert, facing him, her nose in his chest hair.
He’d had a hand on her ass.
Every hour with her made a week of celibacy seem more impossible.
While she napped, he dug into some computer work, confident in the security of the Body Armor servers. Sahara’s PI would be doing similar research on Webb Nicholson, but that didn’t assuage his own need to dig around. He needed to know all of Webb’s closest associates, and whether or not the man had ever been to Désir Island.
He started a list, breaking down names by business, politics and family. He’d cross-check those against known visitors to the island. Although, the more he learned about Désir, the more he realized that most visits were kept top secret.
After finding more names, he added a column for actors to the list of associates.
Webb Nicholson got around. Leese found plenty of information about Webb getting cozy with people who’d been to the island, but nothing specific about Webb himself going there.
Pushing back from the laptop, Leese lifted the paper and slouched in his chair to study it. None of the names jumped out at him as being obviously corrupt enough to murder. One actor had been busted for cheating on his wife, another for posting an explicit sex video. A businessman had been arrested for embezzling. One politician was under indictment for attempting to steer a federal grant. Another for accepting bribes and kickbacks. Yet another for sexual harassment.
Only a few on the list were squeaky-clean...and those men actually drew Leese’s attention more than the obviously shady ones.
He picked up a highlighter and went over their names. When he leaned back to the laptop, Cat groaned, drawing his gaze.
“You okay?”
She went still, then drowsily sat up on the couch. Seeing him at the bar with his laptop, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Research.” He waited a beat, curious as to how she’d react, then said, “On your stepfather.”
She didn’t make a sound, but her face went pale.
Rather than push her, he waited, giving her time to get her thoughts in order. He knew there was so much she still hadn’t told him.
Soon she’d have no choice.
“You...you probably should leave that up to the PI.”
“Why?”
“It could be dangerous?”
“Is that a question, Cat?”
Irritation finally set in. “No, it’s a fact. I told you he’s dangerous. You know what he did—”
“No. I know what you heard, that’s all. Until you tell me the names of the other men there that day, we can’t know what role Nicholson played in it.”
She tossed aside the throw, swung her legs over the side of the couch and went still with another deep groan. “God Almighty,” she complained, “you killed my legs.”
“That was all you, honey.” He put aside the paper and joined her, gently rubbing a thigh. “The aspirin didn’t help?”
“I guess a little.” She stared toward the area where he’d been working. “Leese...”
Bringing her face around, he asked, “What are you afraid I’ll find?”
“I don’t know.” She looked away from his gaze. “If you research Webb, you’re bound to find an article or two about me.”
“I saw them.” And he’d ignored most of it.
“What if you see something that convinces you I’m nuts?”
“Won’t happen. You’re more grounded in reality than anyone else I know. In fact, I’d say you’re unique.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “A very nice unique.”
*
CAT SIGHED. IN a different world, maybe in a romantic movie, this touching moment would mean a kiss, possibly more. But she couldn’t count on that, not from Leese.
And even if he was inclined to a little hanky-panky before the agreed-upon week had passed, she had other things to worry about.
He’d been poking around on the internet.
“You realize any searches can be traced back to you, right?”
His shoulder lifted in a don’t-worry-about-it shrug. “Body Armor has the best firewall available.”
Would it be good enough?
“Still...” What else could she say? You’re going to alert them, they’ll assume I’m talking and none of us will survive. It wouldn’t matter. He was determined to unravel the threat.
“Why don’t you let the PI do his thing?” she asked.
“He is. I’m just doing my thing too. You need to trust me.”
She couldn’t hold back her frown. “Webb said that very thing to me.”
Leese sat back, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t do that, Cat. Don’t compare me to him.”
“I’m not. I mean, I was, but not the way you mean.”
“You want to explain that?”
How? Leese was nothing like Webb, but the point now was to dissuade him from digging in. “For a right-brained dreamer, living in a family full of left-brained workaholics felt a lot like ‘nuts,’ and not the nice kind. Before my mother passed away, she was a buffer, making the differences easier to take. But now that she’s gone...”
Gone forever.
Heartache left her quiet. In so many ways, she still missed her mom. Every day. Sometimes every minute.
“Now?” Leese prompted.
It shouldn’t still affect her, any of it, but it did. “Webb always thought I was immature. He’d often said I needed a better dose of the real world.”
Leese snorted. “I’d say you’ve swallowed a pretty big dose lately.”
“Maybe.” She certainly felt like she’d dealt with her fair share. “But the thing is, Webb told me that I was going down the wrong path, throwing away my opportunities by not taking advantage of family connections. He told me to trust him, to try things his way—”
“His way is not my way.”
“And I’m not into blind faith.”
They stared at each other, the tension growing, until a sudden buzzing split the quiet.
Startled, Cat jerked back, ready to run, to hide.
“Easy,” Leese said. “It’s just the intercom.” He walked to the door and pushed a button on the wall. “What is it?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Phelps,” said an eerie, disconnected voice. “You have a visitor. A Mr. Miles Dartman.”
Horror washed over Cat. What visitor? An imposter? Someone trying to find a way in, a way to reach her?
She meant to make the denial loud and clear, but her “No” sounded only as a breathless whisper.
Watching her, Leese said into the speaker, “Allow him up.” As he stepped away from the door, his gaze never wavered. “I’m going out for a few hours. Miles is going to stay with you.”
CHAPTER NINE