Beck & Call (28 page)

“Doll,” he said, knowing she liked the old-fashioned endearment. “You make a man feel lucky to be alive.”

~

Damien lay pole-axed for at least a minute before he could move again. Jake and Mia’s bodies still touched his here and there. He heard their murmurs as they kissed, but they didn’t bother him. Mia had kissed him too, not long ago. Jake had done way more than kiss him. He’d taken charge of Damien’s body, giving and taking pleasure from it in ways that continued to shake it now. Damien tried to identify the feelings he experienced from all this. He was relaxed, he knew. And sexually replete. Something warmer hovered behind that, something that might have been comfort.

Maybe I feel safe,
he thought.

That was a strange idea.

He scooted out from under them to sit up.

“How are you?” Mia asked.

He couldn’t help it. His mouth stretched into a grin. “Good.”

She grinned back. “You ripped the covers.”

He glanced down at them, stunned to see it was true.

“I need to clean up,” Jake said, arms lifted in a bone-cracking stretch. “Want me to bring back a towel?”

Damien agreed this would be pleasant. He wasn’t sure how it happened; he didn’t feel like he’d decided, but by the time Jake returned he and Mia lay on their sides gazing quietly at each other with the sheets pulled up to their waists. They weren’t right against each other, but the position felt intimate. Without actually talking about it, they’d left space for Jake in the middle.

“We’re staying?” Jake asked, tossing Damien a warm, barely damp washcloth.

Even as he used it, a powerful yawn seized his jaw.

“Sure,” he said when he could, the idea of bunking with them suddenly more appealing than sending them away. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. We can sleep in.”

“Mm,” Mia said. “I love sleeping in.”

Jake playfully swatted her bottom as he climbed in. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He grabbed a pillow for himself, seeming completely comfortable as he arranged himself between them. He ended up with his head facing Damien.

“I’ve done this before,” he reminded, easily reading Damien’s expression.

“Not me,” Mia said sleepily. “Up till now, I’ve only shared a bed with my college boyfriend and you.”

Jake’s startled look made Damien feel better about his own scant experience with sleepovers. His arm’s length relationships with previous partners precluded them.

“I’m honored to be added to your list,” he said.

Mia snickered. “Wait till I start snoring.”

“She doesn’t,” Jake assured him.

Mia pretended to.

Her silliness amused him. Deciding he could do this, Damien squirmed around to lay on his other side, his usual position for sleeping.

“Off,” he commanded the light. The bulb obliged him by extinguishing.

The bed was big, but there were three of them.

“Here,” Jake said, reaching behind him to pull Mia’s arm around his waist. When she was settled to his liking, Jake rested his hand on Damien’s back. He didn’t ask permission or make a fuss. He just did it.

His thumb rubbed the skin it touched gently.

The contact felt fine. Casual. Friendly. Maybe even reassuring. Damien closed his eyes. He kept the penthouse cool, but human beings generated thermal energy. Despite only being covered by a sheet, the temperature of the bed was perfect.

“’Night,” Mia said.

“’Night,” Damien returned.

“Mmph,” said Jake.

Damien smiled to himself. The realness of Jake’s mumble was perfect too.

MIA’S
companions went unconscious before you could say
threesome
. Their breathing steadied and slowed and a last fraction of tension ran out of Jake’s back muscles.

This left Mia awake alone.

How content she was to rest with the men concerned her. They’d settled together in Damien’s bed too easily. Sure, Jake being worldly helped, but that wasn’t the sole reason. She’d relaxed with Damien too. Lying there staring at him across the pillows hadn’t been hard at all. The sex—well, she’d be delighted to repeat that. Damien was very good with his hands, especially considering what Jake had been doing to him at the time. Watching both men throw themselves into it had made her go off like a rocket.

Knowing they’d wanted that to happen, that her being there got them worked up too, was the icing on an already scrumptious cake.

Sadly, the arrangement she was getting so cozy with depended on a lie. Simple logic said it couldn’t last much longer.

I have to know the truth,
she thought. For all their sakes. Dragging out the situation would just cause a bigger mess.

She inched from the bed, aware that Jake at least was a light sleeper. She escaped without disturbing him. He’d only searched the office portion of Damien’s house. She was no trained spy, but she could scout around the rest. Maybe her unprofessional eyes would spot something that hadn’t occurred to him.

Because it seemed the quickest way to cover up, she grabbed Jake’s discarded dress shirt from Damien’s bathroom.

Even not naked, creeping around the giant, nearly empty penthouse was eerie. The only noise was the wind outside and the occasional click and hum of hidden electronics. She took her time, trying to imagine what Damien would consider a secure but convenient spot to stash confidential things. She’d reached the entry before any possibilities jumped at her.

A ten-foot-tall aluminum wall set off the foyer. Shaped sort of like a comma, the round bit that formed the dot could have been a coat closet. If it were, the door was stealth, its curve fitting flush to that of the cylinder. Mia bent closer. A dark opening took the place of a knob. Inside it, she spied the reflective gleam of a palm reader.

She straightened and pinched her lip. Damien had added her and Jake’s palm prints to his system so they could come and go via his front door. Would her print work on this reader, or would trying set off alarms? She could wait and ask Jake’s opinion, but what if this was their best chance to check it out?

Crap,
she thought and stuck her hand inside.

She nearly snatched it back when a blue scanner light came on. No klaxons started blaring, so she forced herself to stay motionless while the light rolled across her hand. A LED that had been invisible clicked green, but nothing else happened.

“Open,” she said, remembering Damien’s order to the bedside lamp.

With a soft hiss of air, the door retracted.

Inside wasn’t a closet but a tube-shaped elevator large enough for four people. Mia entered cautiously. The dim illumination revealed three buttons:
P
,
O
, and
G
. She presumed
P
was “Penthouse,”
G
“Garage, and probably
O
stood for “Office.” Her trusty mental map said she was directly above Damien’s suite on fifty-two. If she were him, she’d love being whisked straight to work from her apartment.

Maybe more importantly, if he had such easy, unobservable access, his office might not seem more public to him than his home. He could work on any project he wanted, any hour of the day or night—including projects he wanted to keep secret. He’d felt safe enough to play sex games at his desk, under a contract that forbade recording. Though he could have lied when he signed it, it seemed possible he had no surveillance at all in there.

The button marked
O
mocked her.

Do or do not,
she challenged. Jake would probably risk it. Whether he’d want her to she didn’t know.

Chances were no one would be on the corporate floor at this hour. Even Damien’s busy bee employees had limits. And if she were discovered by a wandering security guard, her current getup would support a story of being the boss’s overly curious, insomniac girlfriend.

Mia almost lost her nerve at the prospect of being caught, but then she recalled Zoe Raeburn’s dire prediction.

You’ll see
, she’d said.
One day you’ll be lunching in his private office, thinking you’ve got him exactly where you want, and the next you’re sobbing your heart out in a restroom.

Something had happened on fifty-two that Zoe Raeburn was tangled in.

Mia jabbed
O
before she could stop herself.

The elevator sank so swiftly her heart lifted toward her throat.

The mechanism was as silent as Damien’s electric cars. It stopped soon after starting without the slightest jolt. The door opened by itself.

She saw she’d reached his office, though the only light came from the city outside the tall windows. Her shoulder bumped something as she stepped out, causing glass to rattle. A liquor cabinet concealed the elevator, ensuring the private entrance stayed secret.

She glanced left, but the wall of glass between the office suite and the corridor was fogged. The area behind it was dark as well. As long as she kept the lights off in here, she ought to be safe from discovery.

This should have been a relief, but as she padded farther into the room, the back of her neck prickled. Damned if she didn’t feel like someone was watching her.

That’s just nerves,
she told herself.
And maybe your guilty conscience.

She didn’t want to be spying on Damien. She’d have preferred their three-way romantic venture be absolutely real. She’d grown attached to him, and he certainly seemed trustworthy.

So prove it,
she thought.
Prove he hasn’t been duping everyone.

She walked to where Damien had put the table for their initial lunch meeting. To her right, at the distant end of the room, the door to the dark bathroom gaped slightly. To her left, the curve of windows led to his sleek glass desk and a trio of tall shelves. Possibly Zoe had sat right where she was standing.

Mia tried to put herself in the other woman’s shoes.

If Sam Raeburn’s claim was true, she’d had the plan she’d stolen from Genbolt with her. Perhaps she’d thought of it as an offering to earn Damien’s affection, to coax their dating-for-show relationship to the next level. Clearly, that hadn’t worked. Raeburn said Damien seduced his daughter into stealing the schematic. Given what she’d come to know of the man, Mia had trouble believing that. Easier to believe Zoe had done it on her own initiative. Maybe, though, Damien was ambitious enough to keep the plan afterward. She’d seen firsthand that he and Raeburn hated each other. Could Damien have convinced himself holding onto the advantage was justified?

Her gaze drifted to the shelves that stood adjacent to Damien’s desk. True to his fondness for breathing space between his belongings, the groups of books were spread apart. She imagined him working here in the middle of the night, dreaming up new rockets or supercars. If he rose from his chair and walked to the shelves, one cluster of books was at the perfect height for him to reach comfortably.

She went to it.

The books were antique and the titles all had to do with ships. She pulled them off the shelf one by one.

Even before she removed the last, her pulse went crazy. She’d found a safe set into the wall. Instead of a combination dial, it had a palm scanner—exactly like the ones for Damien’s elevator and front door.

No,
she thought. No way would her print give her access to this too. Damien would have excluded her from it … unless it hadn’t occurred to him. By his own admission, he rarely entertained. She and Jake might be the only people he’d ever added to his house system.

She blew out her breath and dried her hand on Jake’s shirt. She’d come this far. She might as well finish it.

Her hand shook when she flattened it on the screen.

As before, a blue light rolled over it and then a green LED came on. Her voice was so hoarse she had to say “open” twice.

The safe door clicked as its seal released. Mia swung it open and reached in.

The first object she pulled out was a thick manila folder about her. She rolled her eyes at the irony and set it aside. She already knew Damien had looked into her background. Her next catch felt more promising. It was a single sheet of thick paper, quite large and folded into four sections.

Mia spread it out on his desk, where the city’s nearby skyscrapers provided just enough light to read. As she smoothed the creases, her stomach sank.

This was it, the same complicated circuit thingie Raeburn had shown her, except this plan was complete. Her finger slid to the upper right corner, her subconscious mind computing comparisons faster than her waking one. Okay, there were a few differences. The Genbolt logo had been removed from this version, and here and there in the margins cryptic notes were scribbled.

That the underlying design was identical Mia couldn’t deny.

“Shit,” she muttered beneath her breath.

She was so distracted she missed the nearly silent hiss of the elevator leaving and coming back. Her first clue that she should have paid attention was the lights snapping on.

Her head jerked up. Damien was stepping into the room. He’d pulled on his gray boxer briefs but that was all. She’d been right about one thing. He did regard this office as an extension of his home.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I woke up and you were gone.”

Her mind raced for excuses, but she knew none of them would work. The safe was open behind her. She had the stolen plans spread out on his desk.

“I can’t believe you did it,” she said.

“Did what?” he asked.

He still didn’t look suspicious.
Enjoy this moment,
she told herself.
In half a second, he’ll know what you’ve done.

She swallowed and felt a lump. “You stole the specs for the navigation system Genbolt is developing. Or maybe Zoe Raeburn stole them. I can’t decide if you asked her to or not. I’d like to think you wouldn’t deliberately turn a woman against her own father.”

Damien came to a halt on the other side of the desk. He was squinting in confusion, possibly too sleepy to add her words together. He looked at the page her fingers were resting on. His brows furrowed as his gaze met hers.