Sizzle in the City (13 page)

“All my funds are tied up in other projects.”

“Sell the hotel and get the money.”

Max laughed. “You’re not serious.”

Trevor stood. “I am.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong. Is there anything else? I have business to see to.”

Trevor wished his conscience would clear. He’d given Max every benefit he could think of, only to have his offers rejected. Yet his brother couldn’t possibly know the extent of forces moving against him.

For that, Trevor was sorry.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly as he turned and left the office.

* * *

“E
AT
THIS
. Y
OU
’
LL
FEEL
better.”

Trevor stared at the huge cupcake with pink icing Shelby offered and shook his head. “I don’t see how.” But the damn thing was so silly—and it was Shelby offering it, after all, so he bit into the treat anyway. “You knew it wouldn’t go well.”

“It didn’t go well?” Calla asked gently.

He’d come to Shelby’s catering space as promised after the meeting with Max. He hadn’t expected to find her friends Calla and Victoria there, too, but he should have. The whole gang was officially gathered together.

Even though he was wild for Shelby, he could see how any number of men would be distracted by her mates—serious, but glamorous Victoria and ethereal blonde Calla, whose name, as well as the frothy cupcake, suited her kind tone of voice.

“He laughed at me,” he admitted to the ladies.

“Damn.” Victoria reached for her purse. “Shel, I owe you twenty.”

Seeing Trevor’s confusion, Calla explained, “Victoria bet Shelby that Max would beg you to save him.”

“And Shelby bet on laughter?” he asked.

“Yep.” Calla shook her head, either at the entire mess or possibly at Shelby’s inexplicable prognosticating skills. “I thought he’d go crying to Mama.”

“You know him well,” Trevor said, his gaze locking on Shelby’s.

She rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

As he sat on the stool next to the kitchen’s center island, he pulled her between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. He hadn’t realized how much he needed her understanding until now. “He was a complete ass.”

“I was afraid of that.”

He tried to smile. “Not
I told you so?
”

“Not this time.” She stroked his cheek. “You had to try.”

He captured her hand, kissing her palm. He wanted to hold her, taste her, lose himself in her touch, but knew indulgence was a luxury. His needs would have to wait.

“How sweet,” Victoria commented, clearly impatient.

Calla sighed. “Isn’t it just?”

“I have a one o’clock meeting,” Victoria said. “Could you guys make out later?”

Trevor aimed a genuine smile at Shelby. “Absolutely. What’s our next step, Ms. Hood?”

“Cute.” Shelby squeezed his hand before she stepped back and faced her friends. “We set a trap.”

“That didn’t work out so well at the investors’ meeting,” Calla said, her gaze darting to Trevor.

“So we plan better this time,” Shelby said.

“A better disguise might be a good first step,” Victoria pointed out.

“And we do it together,” Calla insisted. “Last time you went alone. This time, we’re together, whatever the plan.”

“Maybe,” Shelby hedged. “We’ll have to see how things work out.”

“We broke into—”

Shelby waved Victoria off before she could finish her sentence.

“I’m part of the gang now, right?” Trevor asked. “Don’t I get to learn the secret handshake?”

Victoria poured more coffee into her mug, then refreshed everyone else’s cups. “I was going to say we broke into Max’s office together.”

“And got caught,” Shelby reminded her.

“There’s a trend of us getting caught,” Calla said, looking worried. “Maybe we should leave this to the police.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “What a shame, especially since we were going to appoint you detective liaison.”

“What’s that—” Calla stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You’re teasing me cause I have the hots for Devin.”

“Do you?” Victoria asked, clearly delighted. “I had no—” She stopped her taunting after a sharp look from Shelby. “We can’t stop now. We’re finally getting somewhere.”

“They’re right, Shelby,” Trevor said. “You started this together. You have to let them—and me—help.”

“I will. I am,” she added with more force. “But you also need to understand what you’re risking. What if the unpredictable Detective Antonio decides to arrest us all for interference or whatever?”

“That would be obstruction of justice,” Calla said, scowling. “Very difficult to prove, especially since we’re helping justice.”

Victoria sipped her coffee. “Bottom line? We need new evidence to bring to the police, something that will force them to step up their investigation.”

“Where are we gonna get that?” Calla asked. “We’ve talked to everybody we can find that Max swindled.”

“What about this new condo thing? That can’t be legit.” Victoria looked to Trevor for confirmation.

“Based on Max’s recent track record, I’d say he’s not being completely honest with his investors.” He paused. He had to shift his thinking. Instead of protecting him, he had to reflect on ways to prosecute his brother. It was a disturbing, if necessary, change. “At best he’s using the new investors’ money to fund the condos. There’s no way he has the capital to start construction on his own. At worst, he has no intention of building anything.”

Clearly frustrated, Shelby shook her head. “So we wait for him to cash the checks of new victims, wait some more to see whether or not he builds the condos, then drag everybody to the cops’ front door?”

Calla lifted her finger. “Ah, sorry, but that doesn’t sound like a well thought-out plan.”

“Are we capable of coming up with a better plan over coffee and cupcakes?” Victoria asked.

Shelby frowned. “What’s wrong with my cupcakes?”

“They’re delicious,” Calla said. “I think Victoria was wondering if we should have a more serious venue. And more time to consider all the options.”

Shelby planted her hands on her hips. “You think we’re gonna come up with a brilliant plan if we go to a boardroom?”

“Maybe it would help if we gathered in Sherwood Forest,” Victoria returned.

“Ladies,” Trevor began as he stood. Diving into the fray between three women was no doubt a homicidal endeavor, and he dearly wished he had the NYPD and their sharpshooters as backup, but with tempers and frustration running high, he was hoping to head off a major disagreement. “Between the four of us, our brilliant minds, research expertise, plus a bit of cunning and guile, I think we can find a way to fool Max.”

“Oh, wow.” Calla blinked. “He is good.”

Victoria’s icy eyes gleamed. “Are you sure you don’t have a brother I can seduce?”

In addition to being into Shelby, he was utterly charmed by her friends. Despite his family’s track record with relationships, he felt oddly at home. “I do, in fact, have a brother. Unfortunately, he’s the guy we’re trying to send to prison.”

Silence permeated the kitchen. Even the fan in the convection oven, cooking the next batch of cupcakes, seemed to stop rotating.

Then the ladies started laughing. Calla broke first, and the others followed. They hugged each other, and he stood apart, yet he felt privileged to be present at all.

Smiling, he leaned against the counter. “If anybody’s interested…you might want to know Max is likely using swindled funds to keep the hotel running. Maybe there’s an angle we can use there.

“I promise I’ll help you. We’re going to find a way to punish Max and get back the money.” He approached them so he could link hands with Shelby. “You’re not alone anymore.”

12

“M
Y
FRIENDS
LIKE
YOU
,” Shelby said, pressing her lips to Trevor’s bare shoulder.

He dragged his mouth across her jaw. “I like them.”

They lay side by side, replete from sex and still tangled together as if touching each other might be banned in the next hour.

The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, enveloped her in desire and comfort. The conflicts and problems they were facing seemed a distant concern, even inconsequential.

She glided her hand across his chest, and his muscles twitched in response.

“I like you better, though,” he said, slipping his arm around her to pull her against him.

She linked her arms around his neck as his mouth found hers. His tongue moved past her lips, and arousal flowed down her back, tingling all the way to her toes.

When they parted, she trailed kisses down his throat. “You like touching me.”

He moved his hands down to cup her backside. “Every chance I get.”

“I don’t mean only now. Whenever we’re together.”

“You’re very touchable.”

“It’s more than that.”

His eyes looked starkly blue against the white sheets and his glossy black hair. “My father is restrained. I promised myself a long time ago I’d be different.”

“Your father stamps out passion.”

“He’s not vindictive, just extremely proper. Are you trying to kill the mood?”

“I’m trying to find out things about you.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. Everything. I can predict Max’s moves easier than I can yours.”

“I would hope I’m a bit more complex than him.”

She smiled. “Good point. So your dad’s restrained, which I’d pretty well guessed. What’s your mom like?”

“Not restrained.” He trailed his finger along Shelby’s thigh. “She’s like you—she says what she thinks.”

“Does she? How did she get the attention of a restrained English earl?”

“By being blond and buxom. This is a very odd conversation to have naked.”

“You want to get dressed?”

“No.”

“So I guess you have your dad’s coloring.”

“Most of the Banfield men have dark hair, if that’s what you mean. Max is the odd mix.”

“In more ways than his appearance.” She slid her fingers through Trevor’s hair. Its silky texture sent a flare of need deep inside her belly. “Is your dad as good-looking as you?”

“He’s an uppity Brit who bedded and married a wild, spontaneous, stunning buxom blonde. He’s got some game.”

“Do you guys get along?”

“As long as I do what he says.”

Playfully, she poked his shoulder. “Come on. You can do better than that.”

“We have a decent relationship, though we had some rough times when I was a teenager and resentful of Max the Would-Be Perfect Heir. Like every father and son, I expect. He’d rather I wasn’t an expat, and we’re not especially close, but I know he’s proud of my success. And he’s glad I don’t gamble at his private London club, then fail to pay off my debts.”

The whole deal still sounded cold to her, but not every family was as boisterous as the Southerners she grew up around. “What about you and Max? Do you get along?”

“Now I’m getting dressed.”

Trevor rolled out of bed. Shelby only got a brief glimpse of his leanly muscled body before he stepped into his pants and fastened them. Tucking the sheet around her, she bent her elbow and propped her head on her hand.

She couldn’t restrain a grin. They shouldn’t make sense together, but they did. At least in the moment. Damned if he didn’t make her crazy happy.

“You have to get dressed, too.”

She scowled.

He extended his hand. “Come make dessert.”

Reluctantly, she did as he asked, though wearing his rumpled white shirt still carrying his scent, changed her attitude.

In the kitchen, she found peaches, eggs, marsala wine and sugar, which she made into a simple Italian dessert.

Trevor licked the first bite off his spoon and moaned. “That’s incredible.”

She pressed her lips briefly to his before digging into her own cup. “It’s called a zabaglione. Be sure you don’t say that instead of my name the next time we’re in the throes of passion.”

“It’s not quite that good.” He linked their hands. “Let’s go up to the terrace.”

Once they’d ascended the stairs, Shelby noticed an addition among the abundance of bushes, trees and flowers. “Where did that come from?”

“I bought it today,” he said, leading her to the chaise longue. “Homey, don’t you think?”

She smiled wryly. “I do. Just one?”

“Ah, that’s the best part.” He reclined in the chair, then guided her down to lay back between his stretched-out legs.

As they finished their desserts, his warmth surrounded her like the blossoms on the plants. The vibrant, chaotic city lay below, but that was beyond the balcony walls. Inside those walls, they were cocooned in their own private world.

“Which one should go downstairs?” he asked, setting their empty glasses aside and tucking his arms around her.

Remembering how she’d said he needed plants in the apartment, a different kind of coziness enveloped her. “A couple of the trees, plus some pansies. They’ll get plenty of sun in front of the windows around the dining room.”

“You’ve given this some thought.”

“My mom’s into gardening. I think the instincts are genetic. Do you not want to talk about Max?”

Against her stomach, his hands tensed. “We’ll have to eventually, I guess.”

“Would you rather separate your lover from your brother’s adversary?”

“Yes, but I don’t see how.”

Since Shelby had tried, and failed, she could heartily agree.

“Besides,” Trevor continued. “I’m a coconspirator.”

“Because of me.”

“No.” Kissing the top of her head, he squeezed her. “Well, partly. I do want to help your parents, but I want to get restitution for everybody else Max swindled, as well. It’s my duty to—”

“This isn’t only about duty.” She turned so she could see his face. Barely lit by the city’s glow, he still took her breath away. Maybe all the more because this mess mattered so much to him. “You want to help because you’re worried about everybody involved, not just my parents.”

“Sure I am. What he’s done to them is wrong.”

“But here’s where we’re different. I’m doing this for my family. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be off making pasta and sauces and letting the cops do their job. You’re here because you see a wrong that should be righted.”

“I’m here because my brother is causing all the problems.”

She turned on her side, laying her head against his bare chest. “But not only problems for me.”

“Not only,” he agreed.

“You’re very noble.”

He chuckled.

“You think the earl would approve?”

“In theory. He’d be happy if my nobility kept his name out of the gossip columns, but since it’s his heir who’s due to be nicked by the cops, he’s going to fight us with his last breath.”

The full extent of what Trevor was risking suddenly became clear. Would he lose his father’s respect as well as his brother? “He’d side with an unscrupulous swindler over you?”

“Max is the heir.”

Such resignation. Yet Shelby couldn’t imagine the man who sired Trevor would set aside the law and all his principles to protect a son who cheated people to cover his own mistakes. She wasn’t exactly up on British law, but surely he could disinherit Max if he went to jail.

“I choose to hold out hope for the best.” She traced her finger across his skin, though she had the feeling she and the earl wouldn’t get along, should they ever meet. “You’re hurt by Max’s betrayal.”

“Yes.”

His pain, encapsulated in one word echoed through her. “You tried to help him.”

“I thought I did. Now, I’m questioning everything. Maybe I should have let him fail years ago. Maybe I’m the reason he’s come to this.”

“You’re not.”

“If I’d stopped him sooner, he wouldn’t have had the means to swindle your parents.”

She’d sensed Trevor’s guilt long before now, and she wanted that particular obstacle gone. She shifted to stare at him. “Max made his own choices.”

“So you’ve said. But he’s going to cheat at least one of those people we saw at the condo investors’ meeting.”

“We’ll contact them. Get them to help us. Or we’ll talk to employees at the hotel and see what they know.”

“That’s too many people who could tell Max we’re asking questions. If we’re going to contact potential investors, shouldn’t we be warning them?”

With regret, Shelby shook her head. “This is where you and I are gonna part ways on justice. What we need is fresh evidence. Like Victoria said. Something to take to Detective Antonio and say
here’s what happened last week.
”

“And sacrifice other families?”

“What else can we do?”

He stroked her cheek, then kissed her tenderly. “We can enjoy the terrace.”

Max was set aside—a neat, but necessary solution.

For now.

Eventually, they’d have to resolve the matter before moving forward.

Trevor tightened his hold around her waist and pulled her on top of him. “You can also tell me how good-looking I am.”

“Can I?”

He chuckled, then pressed his lips to the pulse point beneath her ear. “Please.”

She understood he was asking for more than compliments. He needed a distraction. “I was sandbagging.” She let her legs fall on either side of his thighs. “You’re breathtakingly gorgeous.”

“No kidding?”

“Uh-huh. And when you smile, I get all tingly.”

“Remind me to smile a lot.”

Since she wore only his shirt, and he wore only his pants, it took minimal effort to lift, unbutton, roll on protection and have them both sighing in pleasure.

As Shelby rocked against him, she closed her eyes, wanting to vividly experience every stroke, every gasp.

His breath was hot on her skin; the night air was cool on her back.

When his tongue flicked against her hardened nipple, she fought to find her breath.

But she didn’t succeed.

He overwhelmed her—in a good way. He challenged and intrigued her. And she wanted him like no other.

At times, when their eyes met, she could hardly believe his was the face she saw.

She stewed, baked and grilled. She whipped and stirred. She served.

She didn’t lose herself.

Except now. Except with him.

Bracing the heels of her hands against his shoulders, she rolled forward, then back with her hips. He surged deeper inside her and shoved down the shirt she was wearing.

As his lips caressed her breast, she let her head fall back. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him closer still.

Tucked against each other, nothing could come between them.

He moved but still held her, never separating, as he hooked her legs around his hips, then hovered over her for a moment before sinking his body between her thighs.

She gasped as she encountered the bracing impact of the chair beneath her, the intense pleasure of him filling her. She saw the green of the plants, the midnight sparkling sky and the intense blue of his eyes.

His hands cupped her breasts; his mouth devoured her skin. She felt his tongue against her throat. His teeth nipped her earlobe.

The fire and beauty of what they were doing washed over her as she hit her peak. She jolted. Her body pulsed in time with his. She felt his breath against her cheek.

She was falling in love with him.

His touch, his words and his heart.

Lying with him, she couldn’t imagine anything separating them. But Max was there, in a way. And if she ruined Max, would that destroy everything else? No matter what Trevor felt now, how he wanted to make everything right, how much he desired her, she knew the possibility lurked.

Was she willing to risk Trevor for revenge?

* * *

“G
OOD
MORNING
, C
HAMBERS
,
” Trevor said into the phone. “Is my father available?”

“No, sir.”

Though it was 6:00 a.m. New York time, it was eleven in London. Time enough for the earl to have had his breakfast, make calls, address correspondence, but not late enough for lunch.

I left a beautiful woman sleeping in my bed for this?

Trevor made an effort to keep the impatience out of his voice. “Thanks, Chambers. I’ll call his cell.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to reach him. He’s in flight.”

“To where?”