Flirting with Fate (8 page)

If this, whatever this was between them, ended badly, the pain would last a lifetime.

Six

L
ogan didn’t know Elle’s password, so checking to see if the ghostwriter program had been received wasn’t an option. Had she gone to sleep while he’d been in the shower? He eased open her door. A soft hum from the bathroom drew his attention.

Elle was singing. His fingers wrapped around the knob. She might be upset if he just walked in on her. He chose the smarter route and knocked.

“You need to check your email.” The sound of water splashing sent blood rushing south. Elle in a bathtub with him sounded like pure delight.

“Be right there.” The door opened, and Elle stood there smiling, wearing an oversized white robe. The coat of arms for Castle Alainn had been embroidered just above her left breast.

“Sorry. I didn’t intend to stay in the tub so long.”

Logan breathed in her scent. Definitely some type of flower. He had no idea what kind, but he’d know before they left the resort. After they got home, he’d have a bouquet of them delivered to her on a regular basis. “Maybe next time we should bathe together.”

Elle lifted on her tiptoes and kissed him. “You have the best ideas.”

She walked to the bed, picked up the tiniest pair of panties he’d ever seen, then slipped them on, covering her curvy ass. Logan’s feet appeared to be riveted to the floor. Now that he wanted to leave the room, he couldn’t move. Elle covered her beautiful breasts with a flesh-colored bra, and then slipped on jeans and a sweatshirt big enough for them both. Her ponytail came down, and yards of brown waves spilled down her back and around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through her hair, shook her head, and then turned to him again.

“I’m ready.”

“Uh,” he said, trying to form words with his dry mouth. Her gaze swept across his body, pausing at the rise behind his zipper.

“But not as ready as you are.” She laughed and left the room.

“You’re going to get us into lots of trouble.” He tried to joke away his erection to no avail.

He joined Elle, who got two bottles out of the apartment-sized refrigerator and handed him one. In a few keystrokes, she opened the email and started the download.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for her water. “I’m nervous. This could be everything I expected, or nothing.”

Logan understood. “We’ll know soon. The ghostwriter program should open them. But I have to warn you, if Brandon has a fail-safe built in, they will destroy themselves.”

Elle rubbed her hands across her eyes. “That just can’t happen. It can’t.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Ghostwriter? It sounds very secretive.” Elle pushed the laptop directly in front of Logan.

“This is a big program and will take a while to load,” he said.

“Who sent the ghostwriter program?”

“Some people who require complete anonymity.” Logan pulled her barstool closer. “Besides, a good cop never reveals his sources.”

“Detectives and their secrets.” She stroked his stubble, sending shock waves through him. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Is that what you’re reading?” Logan chuckled at her blank stare. He’d dropped his condom next to the book earlier. “The book on your nightstand?
Flirting With the Devil
?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I brought two of Kym Roberts’ books with me. She’s my favorite author.”

“Does that one have sex in it?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Call me when you get to the sexy parts. You can read them to me.”

“Stop it.” She frowned up at him, but her eyes sparkled with humor. “It’s about a man who’s strong enough to know who he loves and is willing to fight for her.”

“Smart man.” Logan’s stomach growled. “I’m starving.”

“We just ate.”

“You wore me out. I have to keep up my strength.” He waited until her eyes flared and her mouth fell open. Then he kissed her and forgot he was hungry.

Digging his fingers deep into her hair, he cradled her head, holding her lips tight against his. This was no timid, bashful woman in his arms. She held her own as she thrust and parried with his tongue. When he released her, both of them were gasping for breath. Logan kissed every inch of her beautiful face and neck. He took his index finger and tipped her chin up higher. He lost himself in her gaze. Dark and smoldering, her eyes drew him back to her. Their lips met and Logan drank deep.

The computer beeped. He reluctantly pulled his mind back to the flash drive. “The program’s finished loading. We’d better get busy.”

Elle turned her face away from him. “Everything comes to an end.”

“Not everything. This thing happening between us, whatever it is… I’m not just killing time.”

“Thank you for being honest.” She turned and looked him straight in the eyes. “Something is happening, and I’d like to find out what it is.”

A heavy weight lifted from Logan’s shoulders. “Good.”

“Now, can we get some work done?” This time her sparkling eyes laughed for her.

Logan opened the folder where Elle had saved Ethridge’s files and scrolled down the list. With a few keystrokes, he directed the ghostwriter program to the smallest file. “This might take a while.”

“You seem to know a lot about this kind of technology.”

“Oh, hell no,” he admitted, hating to have her think he wasn’t up on the latest. “I know people who are technology wizards. First, I ask if my particular task can be done. Most of the time the answer is yes. Then I wait for it to happen.”

“Legitimate hackers—sounds like an oxymoron.”

Elle’s sense of humor had always been attractive to him. Brains combined with beauty made her hot as hell, which was why her brother had hovered over her like an armed drone back when they were kids.

“They’re called white hats. Law enforcement keeps highly skilled technicians on the payroll. If we didn’t, the whole country would be screwed.”

Elle pushed her hair off her face and stared at the screen. “This has to work.”

“Just remember that what we find can’t be used in a court of law.”

“But the more we know about Ethridge Investments, the easier it will be to use his own scam against him.”

“I hope you’re right,” Logan said. “This step can take a long time. Let’s order something off the room service menu.”

“I forgot that you’re hungry.” She moved the room phone in front of him. “You choose.”

Logan opened the room service menu, sharing it with her. “I’m having the Angus burger with cheese and bacon and a cold beer. How about you?”

“The beer sounds pretty good, but I’m going with a strawberry shake and the BLT with avocado.” She scrunched up her face. “I should stick to water. Ice cream is so damn fattening.”

“Order what you want.” He kissed her forehead. “We’ll figure out a way to work off those extra calories.”

“I may have two,” she said.

Logan placed their order. “ETA thirty minutes.”

The program opened a file containing account information.

“You did it,” she squealed like a kid at Christmas and threw her arms around him.

Logan’s eyes scanned the page. “Cayman Island Bank. We may have found where he hides his money, but getting any of it back is a challenge, even for the FBI.” Logan clicked on the balance tab. “Son of a bitch. There’s over twelve million in this one stash. I’m betting he’s smart enough to spread his money out in varying countries and banks.”

“I don’t recognize the name on the account.” Elle pointed at the account information.

“Who is Cheyenne Forrester?” Logan clicked on account information.

“That’s Brandon Ethridge’s home address.”

Logan growled. He retrieved his laptop and booted it up. “Let’s see what we can learn about her.” He entered the information in his system and started a background check.

The Internet slowed to a crawl. “Oh, my God,” Elle complained. “This is as bad as dial-up.”

Logan went to the curtains and drew them back. The snow was falling at a blinding pace. The landscape was covered in white. “I’ll call Eric and ask him to look into Cheyenne Forrester.”

“Really?” Elle’s arms slid around his waist. Her cheek rested between his shoulder blades. “He’ll ask about me.”

“That you can be sure of.”

“What will you tell him?” A touch of nerves had shadowed her words.

Logan turned in her arms. “That you are being very helpful, not taking chances, and that we’ve come up with a plan to make me Brandon’s new target.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m not going to tell your brother about us over the phone. Eric deserves better.” Logan leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “So do you.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“You sure? I seem to remember telling you how beautiful you looked in your pink prom dress.”

“You remember that?” Her cheeks flushed pink.

“Like it was last night. Every head turned when you and Carl Winston walked in together.” The memory of Elle being manhandled by that prick, flashed in Logan’s mind and sent his blood boiling. “The bastard should’ve had his neck broken.”

Elle rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known Eric had confided in you. Carl expected more than a just a dance. I handled the situation myself. There was no need for Eric to break Carl’s nose.”

Logan held back a chuckle. “That came from me. The thought that he’d put his hands on you drove me nuts.”

“You?” Elle stiffened in his arms. “How did I not know this?”

“You were my best friend’s sister. Eric got bent out of shape anytime I so much as looked at you.”

“He had no right.”

“Sure he did. We were wild as renegade wolves back then. He was only protecting you.”

“Then why didn’t he break Carl’s nose?”

“I got to him first. In reality, I probably kept him from really getting hurt.”

The knock on the door meant food had arrived. Logan signed the bill while Elle spread their feast across the coffee table.

“I didn’t realize I was hungry.” Elle picked up her sandwich and took a bite.

Logan grabbed his burger, and for the next few minutes, except for the occasional moan—one he decided had a different sound than the one she made during sex—silence ruled.

His cell buzzed just as he popped a french fry into his mouth. One glance at the caller ID and he shook his head. “Eric. The guy must be psychic.”

Logan put the call on speaker. “I was about to contact you. Got something to write with?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“The Internet service up here is for shit. It’s slow as you on the basketball court.”

“If that’s a challenge, I accept. What do you need?” Eric asked.

“A background check on Cheyenne Forrester.” Logan spelled the name as he walked to Elle’s laptop and read off the rest of the pertinent information. “There are two addresses listed, one in Fort Worth and the other in the Grand Caymans. I need everything you can dig up on her.”

“And why do you need this intel?” Eric’s voice lowered an octave.

Logan glanced at Elle. She rolled her eyes. Both of them recognized Eric’s suspicious tone. Logan held a finger to his lips. She joined him at the bar but didn’t speak.

“Brandon Ethridge has a woman with him,” Logan explained. “He’s presenting her as his daughter, but that’s crap. I think Nicki Ethridge and Cheyenne Forrester may be the same person. So while you’re at it, check out Nicki too.”

“Damn it. Elle sucked you in—” Eric’s voice roared through the speaker.

“That’s enough,” Logan snapped. Defending Elle felt right. The smile on her face confirmed it. “I think she’s onto something, and I’m going to follow it through.”

“I only wanted you to keep her out of trouble.” The anger had faded from Eric’s tone, replaced by concern. “Now I’m asking you to keep her safe.”

“I’ll do my best.” Logan seized on a thought. “You’d have other things to worry about if you’d get off your ass and marry that girlfriend of yours.”