Domestic Duet: Domestic Alliance & Asset (19 page)

She’d heard enough to turn her stomach, but nothing of the folder with her name across the top. About a month ago, she’d been in the laundry room and overheard Mr. Edwards snap at Savannah for asking about renting cargo vans. He’d lost his temper shouting for her to never go through his mail on his desk. What did a banker need with a cargo van? The money came in secure trucks.

Unfolding her legs, she pushed off the lid to balance on her partially asleep feet. Ducking down, she rubbed her kneecaps, now imprinted with the pattern off the lid cover fibers.

“Heard anything of use?”

Startled by the familiar voice, she caught her shoes on the rug, fell forward hands out, and grabbed the first thing she touched. Hard, muscled, and strong, Cantrell’s body buffered her descent and her cheek bounced off the hard surface. She cupped his chest as she caught herself, then shoved to an upright position, completely aware of the man beneath her touch.

By the light in his eyes, Oliver caught her appreciation but had the decency not to taunt her for gawking. He looked like the man on top of a wedding cake in his perfectly fitting suit. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive, she did. He was gorgeous, but that’s all it was. No emotional connection the way she had with Captain Farkus.

Stuttering, she braced her hands on his chest to steady her stance. Old Spice filled her lungs, making her mouth water. It had subtle warmth to it. Heat spiraled around her face. Embarrassed she’d crumpled his lapels in her grip, unfurling her fingers, she batted at the wrinkles left behind.

Sadie held still as his hands dropped from her shoulders to smooth salaciously down the curve of her hips, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Mr. Cantrell, I’m not on the list of refreshments. I’d appreciate it, if in the near future you’d keep your hands to yourself.”

He raised a brow and the corner of his lips turned up enough to remind her of her position…the maid.

What was she thinking? Licking her drying lips, she started in a humbler tone than before, “You ought not to be wandering around in other folk’s homes. Family or not, it’s rude.”

Why was he out here instead of getting the low down on the launch time?

He leaned closer, making her uncomfortable under his blue stare. “Unlike you pressing your ear to the wall?” he taunted unapologetically.

She released a slow hiss of air. “I have laundry to tend to so if you’ll excuse me,” she said, then rushed down the back hall to the laundry room, Cantrell on her heels.

“Sadie, wait.” He shoved an impatient hand over his hair, causing the layers to flutter. “Let me apologize for flirting the other day. I was out of line.”

From the moment we met; he’s been out of line.

She pivoted on her heels. Their eyes met. Lust passed between them. She forced back the sensation, struggling to find the words to not smile up at him. “My towels are wrinkling, Cantrell.” She walked faster.

“Can I talk to you in the kitchen? It’s important,” he urged. The clip of his voice said he was shooting glances toward the front of the hallway, opposite Richard’s office door.

Walking fast, her hips swaying under the dress, Sadie listened for other footsteps. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She reached the laundry room at the back of the ranch-style home. His voice brought her up short.

“Ms. Sadie—I’m glad we’re alone—we need to talk and it’s imperative that you listen. I don’t have time to repeat myself,” he warned with his dark tone.

At the louvered doors, Oliver reached past her to angle the door out before stepping inside behind her. Scooting past the table where she folded clothes, she closed her hand around the knob to open the back door, and she felt him at her back. Heat radiated from his touch.

So much for his genuine apology. Maybe this was a test.

A picture of Captain Ryner Holston on the space station filled her mind. He was known for uncommon tactics for testing detectives and next month she’d have her first year’s evaluation.

She whirled on him. The tight space between the washer and the pantry brought her in line with his hard thighs. She angled back to peer at his open blazer and let her gaze move up to settle on his face.

“I’m listening, Mr. Cantrell, because my mother taught us to respect those with little home training.” Throw a little more attitude at him. “And you better not be trying to sale me no life insurance.” Sadie cringed at her broken English, but held her chin high and defiant.

One raven-black eyebrow cocked up. “If you were my maid, I’d do something about that bossy mouth of yours,” he warned, pulling out a book of matches and flipping it between his fingers. The skin around his eyes tightened.

Sadie fought not to ball her fists and plow into him. Compressing her lips muffled the curse words filling her mouth. Two she’d made up just for him.

He tapped the edge of the cardboard to his lip. “Try listening for a minute without arguing if that’s possible.”

Sadie crossed her arms under her breasts.

“Thank you. I have reason to believe Mr. Edwards is working against the government.”

She blinked back the sarcasm in her eyes to a blank stare. “This is not a communist family, Cantrell. Why would you say something so cruel?” She stretched her eyes wide to add to the flamboyancy of her reaction. “Mr. Edwards is an American…what are you saying, Cantrell?”

“You’ve seen the nightly news reports about aliens, well they’re true and they need our help.”

Come on, Cantrell, tell me you know who I am so we can bust this cat. What are you waiting for?

“Mr. Cantrell, I have work to do.”

“Sadie. I swear I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said softly. Masculine heat rolled off his body with his chest so close to her face, it distracted her attention.

She picked up the wire basket of empty milk bottles. “Timothy won’t have fresh milk in the morning unless I get these outside on the back porch.”

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m running out of time. Sadie—Ms. Sadie,” he corrected. “We both know what you heard. Can you honestly say you won’t help your country?”

“Mr. Cantrell, this is inappropriate, standing over me this way.” Sadie caught herself before she rolled her eyes in frustration. “I’m a colored woman and well—you’re not a colored man, and my boss’s family.”

Cantrell let his attention smooth down the curves of her body under her dress. “Telling me you’re colored doesn’t make you any less attractive, Ms. Sadie. I'm very attracted to you, but I’ll save that for another time.” He dropped his hands, peering over his shoulder before returning his attention to her. “That aside, I need your help. Business help.”

“Okay, let’s say any of what you’re telling me is true, minus the aliens, what makes you suspicious?”

“How many bankers hold weekly meetings in their homes?”

She rested a hand on the washer, setting down the basket of bottles on the checker-print linoleum. This had to be a test for next month’s review. To see how far she’d go to get incriminating information. As long as he didn’t know who she was, she had to play the part.

She set a laundry basket in front of the open dryer door, emptying its contents—towels—and hurriedly folding them. Oliver bent, picking up the basket to place on the laundry table.

“It’ll appear I helped if someone were to walk out here.” Oliver stood close enough for their shoulders to touch and his cologne to envelop her senses. “I’ll pick you up later when your shift ends.”

“Not tonight. I have a previous engagement.”

He scrubbed his index finger over his brow. “Okay, meet me in Salem Park. I know you know where that is and it’s walking distance from here.”

“The park?” she asked baffled he’d even offered to meet outside of the house.

“Would you rather meet under the bridge in a dirty cardboard box, cloak and dagger style?” he teased, dipping those long lashes in her direction.

“You are a cynical man, Mr. Cantrell, but you make a valid point.” Agitated, she lowered her face and glared her surprise. She had to go. He may have pertinent information. “Just how long have you been watching me?

“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“Tomorrow, Cantrell, noon.”
Keep the upper hand or he’ll snowball you at every turn
.

“Tomorrow, then,” he said, eyeing her uniform. “You should wear blue all the time.” His grin was dangerous along with the glint in his eyes.

It never fails. The moment another man takes notice she became the flavour of the moment, attracting everything with a pulse.

“Relax, Sadie. It’s a compliment not a sentencing; your complexion radiates under that shade of blue.”

“Good night, Cantrell.”

“Yes ma’am, Ms. Sadie.”

His teasing fanned the embers smoldering beneath her dress as it was. To avoid licking her lips while watching this well-tailored man saunter off into the streaming sunlight, she trapped the bottom one between her teeth.

Oliver slipped his hands into his front pockets, and then chortled. “And I saw you smile back there. I won’t flirt, placing your job in jeopardy on one condition,” he added never turning to face her. “You save your biggest and brightest smiles for me.”

“Good day, Cantrell.”

“It is now.”

Although his handsome features intrigued her, it was superficial.

Oliver Cantrell had gotten what he wanted…her attention. She was going to meet this man in the park. Lord, why did she say yes? She should just tell him who and what she was and that she knew who he was. She couldn’t be attracted to her colleague on Earth and a karuntee from the space station at the same time.

Chapter 8

The next day, Oliver paced Salem Park, wading through the stream of black women with Sadie’s height and build, but none carried themselves in that independent manner that didn’t belong to a maid. It belonged to a strong woman he wanted to know intimately. He eyed the sky, remembering what brought him to this station in life.

Years ago, he’d left Earth, moving to the Red Lake Zone, hoping to make a change in the world.

“Ha!” Oliver laughed at his attempt at a noble statement.

No one moves from prison. He’d been released after two years on a technicality. Yeah, he’d been there when it went down, but he hadn’t killed or robbed anyone in that store. He hadn’t even gotten out of the car, but sat in the alley with the engine running keeping the delivery truck from blocking the street. He never saw any of his cut or his partner again, either way.

The day they released him, he knew not to return to his life of crime. He’d drowned the old Oliver in the gym hitting the speed bag daily, creating a new stronger body and mind. Not so easy. He might as well have worn his prison cell number on his chest. The minute a potential employer read his resume…they were showing him the door. That same week, Captain Holston showed up on his hotel doorstep, relaying a fantastic and unrealistic story of life on a space station. Oliver saw no reason to stay on Earth when he had a criminal record.

He filled his lungs with the rich scent of the park’s forest. Pine and the freshly mowed scent of grass rising from the mulch still on the edges of the walking trail surrounded the manicured lawn. The trickling gurgle of water as a little boy drank from the water fountain filled the air, his white and black gym shoes barely touching the ground as he strained to reach the stainless steel faucet.

Forgetting how earthy it smelled, he inhaled deep, setting it to memory. He’d have to create this scent in his workout space on the station.

A weight of someone watching came from the right. This was why Sadie wanted to meet here. She didn’t trust him. Hadn’t wanted to be alone with him.

Her fresh-scrubbed aroma played through the air, led him around by the nose now down the path to cross the lawn. Her innocently wise, almond-shaped eyes, perfectly set in her delicate face, ran a visual trail down his body. His groin tightened under her arresting stare. The woman was mind candy.

Ready to drop the façade and take her home, he tucked his transporter pin inside his breast pocket.

“Fifteen minutes, Mr. Cantrell, not a second more,” Sadie reminded him and, clutching her purse to her chest, slowly started to walk, leading him down the path.

Caught up in the sway of her hips, he let her argument fly past him. They walked to the secluded area between the trees. “You won’t like, and may not believe, what I’m about to tell you about Richard Edwards. And I understand that,” he started. “I suspect he’s stealing from—”

“An accusation like that will destroy this family, Mr. Cantrell.” Sadie tipped him a dark, suspicious glare and when she spoke, something had changed in her tone. “Tell me what you know, Cantrell.”

“Close your eyes.” He tapped his transporter.

***

Oliver eyed his watch. An hour had passed since he transported her up to his home on the space station. He sat, then angled forward, his arms out over his knees, and stared at Captain Ryner Holston reclined in the chair across from him, relaxed. Too relaxed.

“Captain, I’ll catch hell from Sadie when she finds out where I’ve taken her. Whatever surprise I see working behind that stiff jaw…don’t hang me out to dry. You know something.”