Authors: Jude Deveraux
Eli started to reply, but then he just waved his hand to indicate the table of food that Chelsea was eating, her clean face and hair, and the big smile on her face.
“You’re taking credit for all this?” Chelsea said as Eli got up, went to a cabinet, and pulled out an old photo album.
Across the table, Jeff and Melissa looked at each other. He’d told her a lot about the attachment of Chelsea and Eli, and it looked like everything he’d said was true.
It was later, after they’d all laughed over the photos in the album—all of them agreeing that now Jeff looked more like the young Eli than Eli did today—that Chelsea asked about Grace Ridgeway.
Melissa wasn’t fooled. She went from laughing to serious in a second. “How do you know her?”
Chelsea started to prepare her words but Eli stepped in.
“We met her in a diner. Very nice lady who talked about little else but her teenage daughter, Abby. Grace said she was meeting someone, and later we saw some guy who looked like a bum come in. And we saw Grace hand him some money. She didn’t look rich, so we were concerned.”
Eli said all this without the least flicker of his eyes at his distorted truth. He just smiled and refilled everyone’s wineglass—except his own, Chelsea noted.
“Does the guy drive a beat-up old car?” Melissa asked. “Weeks ago I ticketed him for a broken taillight, but I haven’t seen that vehicle since.”
“That’s him,” Chelsea said. “You remember his name?”
“Yeah. The car was registered to Chester Arthur. I remember because it’s a president’s name.”
“And the driver’s license matched his name?” Eli asked.
“Sure,” Melissa said. “If it hadn’t, I would have reported it. But then, I couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to steal that old car. Don’t tell me it’s still running.”
“Yes,” Chelsea said before Eli could reply. “Actually, it runs quite well.”
“That’s because a new engine’s been put in,” Eli said. “The outside may be a wreck, but the inside’s out of Daytona.” He didn’t look at Chelsea.
That he knew that but hadn’t mentioned it so annoyed her that she kicked him under the table. He didn’t even wince. “What about Grace? Where does she work?”
“Frazier Motors. My boss’s family’s dealership. If you buy a vehicle, you go through the paperwork with Grace.”
When Eli and Chelsea leaned toward her, Melissa continued, “She’s a nice woman, been in Edilean about four years.”
“No problems?” Eli asked.
“What’s this about?” Melissa asked.
Jeff took her hand in his. “I told you that Eli can’t tell what he’s working on. Top Secret and all that.”
Melissa seemed to consider that for a moment. “The first year she was in town, she called us out in the night three times. She has a concrete block shed in the backyard, and she said it’s why she bought the house. Someone kept trying to break into it.”
“Did they succeed?” Eli asked.
“No,” Melissa said. “It has a heavy metal door on it. The old man who built it had a collection of old toys. His wife threatened to divorce him if he didn’t get rid of them, so he built the shed to house them. It’s pretty strong.”
“Alarm system on it?” Eli asked.
“Not that I know of, but the sheriff and I suggested she put up some lights around it. What’s in there?”
“I have no idea,” Eli said as he got up. “Anyone want more pie? What about you, Chels? It’s not lemon meringue but it’s still good.”
“Eli is determined that I gain weight.”
“I wanted that when I thought we had a future together,” Eli said. “But since I don’t play polo or drive a race car, I’m not in consideration.” His words were laced with so much anger that Melissa and Jeff looked at him with wide eyes.
But Chelsea knew that he was using a distraction technique. They’d done it when they were children. It looked like he wanted them to be alone. She got up to stand in front of him. “You flirted with every woman we saw.” She turned to Melissa and Jeff. “The real reason for all this interest in Grace Ridgeway is that he drools over her. His dream girl. Eli wants a woman who is chained to the stove. One who’ll wait at home for him, pop out umpteen babies, and pack his suitcase when he goes somewhere exciting.”
“Better than wasting my life living in hotels like you do. Aren’t you worried that you’re getting too
old
for those young men?”
“You think I’m old?” she said, her voice low. In a quick move, she put her hand at his neck and kissed him with all the passion that had been building inside her.
Eli drew her into his arms, his mouth opening over hers and nearly devouring her.
Melissa and Jeff stood up. “We . . . uh, we better go,” he said.
“Uh, yeah,” Melissa echoed.
In seconds, they were out the door and hurrying toward the car.
Chelsea and Eli broke apart and stood there glaring at each other.
“Are they gone?” Chelsea whispered.
Eli turned just slightly. “Burning rubber.” He looked back at her and they began to laugh so hard they fell on each other.
“Did you see their faces?” she asked.
“They were shocked. You certainly broke up the party with that kiss,” he said.
“I had to stop her from asking questions. I guess I could have slapped you, but I was afraid Melissa might draw her gun on me.”
Eli stopped laughing.
She pulled back to look at him, and when she saw his eyes glowing, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, but this time for real. His body was pressed against hers and he felt so very good.
His tongue, his full lips, the strength of him, were all causing her to lose herself.
He moved to kiss her neck. “No commitment, understand?” he whispered.
“None.” Her head was tilted, giving him access to her throat. His hands were roaming over her back.
“I want that white picket fence,” he said. “I want kids and a wife in an apron, and a casserole in the oven. And you want none of that.”
“That’s right,” she said, “I don’t.” Her eyes were closed as she gave herself over to his lips, his hands, to the feel of his mouth against hers.
When he took a step forward, she went with him. He put his hands under her behind and lifted her to the back of the couch. Within seconds, he’d unbuttoned her blouse and his face was on her breasts.
Chelsea knew she’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted this man. This was Eli. Friends forever.
She opened her jeans-clad legs and held him to her, her ankles clasped at the back of him. Her hands were in his hair, her head back.
His hands slipped under her shirt, moved over her smooth skin, and deftly unfastened her bra. He took a pink tip in his mouth, his tongue caressing in a way that sent waves through her body.
She was hardly aware that his hands were unfastening her jeans. When his fingertips touched the skin below her navel, she caught her breath.
His head came up to her lips, encasing them, devouring them, as his hands held her head.
“Eli,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”
“I mean to. I—”
Suddenly, he stepped back from her. “Damn! I can’t.”
She glanced downward. He was ready for her. “Yes you can. I believe in you.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s late and I have to sleep.” He took another step back. “I didn’t tell you, but I got a call from the office and tomorrow I have an early duty.” Another step back. “But I must say that you look really good, Chelsea. Really, really good. Maybe next time.”
With that, he took a few more steps backward, then went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
For a long moment, Chelsea stayed seated on the back of the couch. Her shirt was open, her bra loose and exposing her breasts. Her jeans were open down to her tiny thong.
Her first thought was to pound on Eli’s bedroom door and demand . . . What? An apology? That he continue?
If Rodrigo had done this to her, that’s what she would have done—and he would have loved it. But Eli just might give her that quizzical look of his and ask what had upset her.
She slid off the couch and refastened her clothes. The unspent energy running through her made her feel like her whole body was vibrating.
The breakfast table was covered with dirty dishes and she started to clear them away. But after just two plates, she stopped. Damn him! she thought. Who did he think he was? Who was
she
? Some strumpet he could pick up, then toss aside?
She sneered at the dirty table. Eli would probably wake up expecting the whole house would be clean. His mom was a great housekeeper—unlike Chelsea’s mother, who barely knew where the kitchen was. Housework would interfere with her charity work and her tennis. Or at least that’s how it had been until her husband had the heart attack.
Chelsea put her hands to her sides. Today in the car she’d been right to tell Eli that she couldn’t stay with him, that she didn’t want the same things as he did.
As she headed for the stairs, she paused by his bedroom door. Was he in there snoring away? Dreaming about his Top Secret work? Or maybe about Pilar’s dark beauty?
She flipped the door a one-finger gesture, then went up the stairs. There were two bedrooms at the top and one of them had her empty suitcases. Since she hadn’t unpacked them, she wondered who had. Probably Jeff, she thought.
She didn’t bother to shower, just stripped off her clothes, and nude, she fell across the bed.
Sexual frustration was not a good thing!
She flopped around on the bed, looked at the clock, then turned over. Three minutes later, she looked at the clock again.
At 1:00 a.m., she gave up trying to sleep, got up, and took a shower. As she got out, toweling her hair, she saw her laptop on the bedside table. When she’d run off in such a hurry on Eli’s dreadful camping trip, she’d left it behind.
From there, they’d gone to the diner and had heard the conversation between Grace and Orin. Tonight, Eli had asked Melissa questions about Grace, but what he’d seemed to really want to know about was the shed in back.
What was it that Grace had said? Chelsea tried to remember.
“I just wondered if you’d ever found the papers from the last sale.”
“No, I haven’t. Everything is stored away and I work long hours. Besides, those things are hard for me to look at. I . . .”
“Interesting,” Chelsea said as she looked at her computer.
When they were returning from Richmond, she’d searched for Grace Ridgeway’s address in Edilean. She didn’t mention it to Eli, but she’d emailed all that she’d found to herself.
She tossed the towel onto the side of the tub, gathered her robe around her, and opened her computer.
Twenty minutes later, she’d found Grace’s house on an aerial map. She could see the shed in the back corner of what looked to be a very plain brick house set back off the road. There was a wall running along the back, but from what she could see, it wasn’t very tall. Chain link enclosed the rest of the property.
She wondered what kind of lock was on the shed door.
As she got up, she looked at the messy bed. She knew she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Maybe if she went to Grace’s house, she could see the shed and examine the lock.
She and Eli hadn’t talked about it, but she assumed that tomorrow he planned to visit Grace. The question was whether or not he’d take Chelsea with him. The truth was that right now she felt like packing her bags and leaving. In fact, she wasn’t really sure why she’d come in the first place. If her parents hadn’t bullied her . . .
Okay, so that was their past. Right now, she could either continue being angry or she could
do
something.
She opened the closet door. Someone had hung her clothes inside, and the wire drawers on the side held her knits. She pulled out a black turtleneck, her black yoga pants, and a dark bandanna for her hair.
Couldn’t hurt to go and see, she thought.
Chelsea hadn’t told Eli, but in the years since she’d seen him, he wasn’t the only one who’d had a bit of experience in espionage. Hers was on a much smaller scale, but several times she’d managed to bat her lashes at men on other teams—whether cars or horses—and find out information she shouldn’t know. Out of necessity, she’d developed computer-hacking skills that might even impress Eli. And, unfortunately, she’d become an expert on finding signs of when a man was cheating.
In minutes she was dressed in all black. She tiptoed down the stairs, past Eli’s bedroom, then out to her car.
Grace’s neighborhood was quiet. There were streetlights, but no sign of life anywhere—not even the blue-gray light from a TV showed from a window. The air was still and there was little moonlight.
She parked four houses away and was glad she’d disconnected the interior light in her car so that when she opened the door, it didn’t come on.
There were few barriers in the neighborhood, so she moved quietly through the trees and shrubs to Grace’s house. The fact that it was completely enclosed was unusual. Chelsea wondered if Grace had done it or if the house was fenced when she bought it.
Toward the back of the chain-link fence she could see the concrete wall of the shed. It was about eight feet square and looked as solid as a bank vault. But then, it wasn’t as though she planned to break into it. She just wanted to . . . Actually, she wasn’t sure why she was here.
As she got closer to the shed, she wondered where the lights Melissa had mentioned were. She could see two tall poles but they were dark.
Her first thought was that if Orin’s files had been confiscated, that might make him work harder to get whatever papers Grace had in storage. Maybe he’d sent someone and that’s why the lights were out. If so, Chelsea knew she should call the police.
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, but before she could even turn it on, a hand went over her mouth and another around her waist. Her phone fell to the ground.
Chelsea kicked backward, her heel contacting hard with a shin. At the same time, she jammed both elbows back and hit a rib cage on both sides.
There was a grunt of pain, then in a deft move, her attacker’s leg went around her knees. In the next moment she was on the ground and he was on top of her, his hands pinning her arms above her head.