The Billionaires Sub (14 page)

I didn’t get it until Cross swore, his arm tightening around me. I went cold, and it had nothing to do with what I was or wasn’t wearing.

“I was the leverage,” I whispered.

“I believe so,” Roster said. “I think they wanted to take both of you, using you to keep Juliette from trying to escape, keep her compliant.”

“Who the fuck is the puppet-master, Roster?” Cross voice was sharp.

“I don’t have a name yet,” he said. “But I do have two possible leads. One is finding who drugged Hanna. I have a couple people talking to the bartender.”

“The cops already questioned him,” I said. “He didn’t know anything.”

“My men can be a little more...persuasive than the police. They won’t do anything illegal, but they’ll toe the line,” Roster said. “I think he either did it himself, or knows who did since the only two open drinks would’ve been within his view. We just have to find the money trail.”

Cross fingers flexed between mine, tension radiating off his body. “What’s the second lead?”

“I was able to get into Pant’s phone records,” Roster said. “He left his laptop in his apartment and his passwords were juvenile.”

“Mars.” Cross spoke from between gritted teeth. “I don’t care how you got it. Just spill.”

“There’s a number Mr. Pant calls several times a day, starting from just before Hanna arrived in LA.”

“You think that’s who’s pulling the strings?” I asked.

“I tried calling it, but whoever owns the phone won’t answer,” he continued. “And an online search just tells me that it’s a cell phone. Whoever has it knows how to hide their number. I have someone on it, but I figured you might want to have the cops working on this too.”

“I’ll give the detectives a call,” Cross said. He released my hand and pulled up the notes on his phone. “What’s the number?”

As the PI rattled it off, a chill went through me. “Could you repeat that?”

Cross must’ve heard something in my voice because he looked over at me. I didn’t respond though, forcing myself to focus on the numbers, hoping I’d heard them wrong the first time.

I hadn’t.

“What is it?” Cross asked, concerned.

“We don’t need to search for...” My mouth was dry and I had to stop to swallow. “I know whose number that is.” I looked at Cross even as I pressed my hands together to try to stop them from shaking. “It’s my sister’s assistant. Emmalyn Baxter. That’s who this guy’s been talking to.”

Chapter Seventeen

I barely remembered what happened after I’d recognized Emmalyn’s number. I do know there was plenty of cursing from both men, and I was pretty sure Cross yelled at the PI for not having investigated Juliette’s assistant. I might have tried to tell him that it wasn’t Roster’s fault, that the stalker angle had clearly made more sense.

At some point, Cross had ended the call, and then told me that we were going back to the city to meet with the detectives. I was pretty sure that was when he’d realized that I hadn’t been entirely processing things.

Time moved in skips and jumps after that. I was dressed without remembering doing it. Then in the car, heading back to Hollywood. Some sort of music played in the background, instrumental, soothing. I knew I should have been able to name one of the pieces, but I felt like I was working hard just to remember to breathe.

We pulled into the police station parking lot, and Cross came around to open my door. I knew why we were here, and knew I needed to pull myself together. I took his hand, trying to use it to center myself. All I could do, though, was finally say what had been bouncing around in my head from the moment I’d recognized the phone number.

“I should’ve known.”

Cross looked down at me as he closed the car door. “You should’ve known what?”

“That it was Emmalyn,” I said dully. “She answered Juliette’s phone in the apartment, remember? I should have seen it then. That it was her.”

Cross let go of my hand to cup my face between his hands. “No. Don’t do that. This is not your fault. None of it. Now, I might not know your sister personally, but I feel pretty safe in saying that she’d agree with me here.”

I frowned at him. “I doubt that. She doesn’t like you.”

He gave me that half-smile, but there was a hint of something sad in his eyes. “Then, I guess when we get her back, I’ll just have to prove myself to her.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips firmly against mine. It was a chaste kiss, one to give me strength rather than to arouse. I laid my cheek against his chest and let him hold me as I closed my eyes and repeated his words. I knew them in my head, that there was no way I could’ve known any of this would happen, but I needed to get them into my heart.

When I finally pulled back, my head was clear, and I was ready to go over everything with the detectives. I nodded in answer to the question in Cross’ eyes, then took his hand and we walked into the police station together.

Neither Bison nor McAllister looked pleased to see us, though I supposed that could’ve had as much to do with the fact that they were probably ready to go home, as it did that they didn’t seem to like us. They didn’t blow us off though.

Instead, they escorted us to a quiet room, and listened as both Cross and I explained everything. Detective McAllister wrote everything down, her face blank.

Then the mood in room shifted.

“Do you happen to know how your private investigator was able to get Mr. Pant’s phone records?” Detective Bison asked Cross.

Cross folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I do, but I’d prefer not to say. As I’m not a police officer, it’s not really my concern.”

Detective Bison’s dark eyes narrowed. “You could be charged with being an accessory to anything your PI did.”

Cross mouth flattened. “If you can find a judge willing to swear out an arrest warrant for that when there’s a missing woman, you can continue this conversation with my attorney. Or we can work together to get Juliette Breckenridge back to her sister, and then we’ll never have to see each other again. I know which one I’d prefer.”

“Mr. Phillips,” Detective McAllister spoke up. “Do you think that your family money grants you some sort of special treatment?”

Cross shifted in his seat and I reached under the table to put my hand on his leg. The muscles there were tense, but I felt him relax ever so slightly at my touch.

“I think that I expect you to do your job,” he said. The edge to his voice was sharp. “And your job is to find Juliette. I don’t care what else you do or how the hell you do it. But I do promise that if you don’t follow these leads, and something happens to Miss Breckenridge, I will use my family’s money, as well as whatever influence I have, to bury the two of you.”

Detective Bison held up a hand. “Mr. Phillips, I think my partner spoke out of turn. We’re just looking out for your best interests as well. We want Miss Breckenridge found safely, just as much as you do.”

I doubted that, but I didn’t say so.

“We just don’t want you to getting yourself into trouble,” Detective McAllister said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Let me worry about myself,” Cross said. “You just worry about finding Juliette.”

The detectives exchanged looks that I couldn’t read, then turned to me.

“Miss Breckenridge, did you ask Mr. Phillips to hire a private investigator?” Detective Bison asked.

“No,” I answered, squeezing Cross’ leg when I saw his mouth open to answer for me.

“Are the two of you sleeping together?” Detective McAllister asked.

Another squeeze to Cross leg.

“I’ll make the two of you a deal,” I said with a saccharine smile. “You find my sister, and I’ll answer every question you have about my sex life. And if there’s something you’d like to charge me with, we can address it then as well, all right?”

I stood and looked down at Cross to see him trying not to smile. He stood and took my hand.

“I believe she said all there is to say. I expect to hear from my PI that you’ve been in touch with him, and that you’re all playing nicely.”

“And if you don’t?” Detective McAllister leaned back in her chair. “Will you be throwing your weight around, making calls to our bosses and everyone else you play golf with?”

Cross smiled now, but it wasn’t a nice smile. I wouldn’t have wanted him smiling at me like that.

“Damn right I will.”

I didn’t say a word as the two of us walked out of the police station and back to the car. Once inside, Cross turned toward me. “They said the apartment was cleared.”

I nodded, unsure where he was going with this line of conversation.

“I can take you back there. You lock up, tell the building’s security to be on watch, you should be safe until the cops pick up Pant and Emmalyn.”

My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment, and I definitely didn’t want to go back alone. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to push myself on him if he didn’t want me around.

“If that’s what you want,” I said quietly. “I’m sure you have a lot you need to do. What with taking most of the week off work...”

“Hanna,” he cut me off. “I want you with me.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “But if you want to go to the apartment, I’ll take you.” He gave me a real smile. “And if I stay or go, it’s up to you.”

“I’d like to go,” I said. When I saw a flicker cross his eyes, I added, “Because I’d like some of my own clothes.” I squeezed his hand. “Then I’d like to go back to your place, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he said. He held my hand a few seconds longer, then turned so he could start the car.

We didn’t talk during the drive, or when he followed me upstairs to fill a bag with my own things. He just waited outside the bedroom door, then walked with me back to the car.

“Are you okay?” I asked after several more minutes of silence.

He started to nod, then shook his head. “I’m pissed,” he admitted. “Those detectives were out of line, asking you...”

I shrugged. “If they find my sister, I don’t really care what they ask me.” I cut him a sideways glance. “Unless you’d rather not have anyone know...”

“You think that’s what my problem is?” he asked sharply.

“I just meant that stuff like this is usually...private. And I could understand if you wouldn’t want people knowing that, when all this was going on, you and I...”

As we slid to a stop at a red light, he looked over at me. “Do you regret anything we did?”

I shook my head. I didn’t even need to consider the question. “I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed of anything we’ve done. My problem with their line of questioning was that it had nothing to do with finding your sister. Detective McAllister had no right to ask you that.”

“It’s okay,” I said, then grinned, wanting to ease the tension. “Besides, I’d be happy to give her a play-by-play. It’d be worth it just to see the look on her face.”

He chuckled, and the knot inside me eased. Silence fell again, but it was a different sort, a nicer kind. When we got to his place, he carried my bag inside, just like he had at the cabin. Except this time, he didn’t ask me which room I wanted to stay in. And he didn’t automatically go to the guest room I’d used before. He stopped in front of a different door and turned to look at me.

“My room,” he said quietly. “Or you can have the same room as before.”

I took the couple steps needed to put me within reaching distance and put my hand on his chest. “Your room.”

He opened the door. “Do you want something to–?”

I pushed myself up on my toes and pressed my lips hard against his. “Right now, what I want...what I need, is to forget that I’m waiting to find out if my sister’s alive or dead.”

He wrapped one arm around my waist and walked us both backward into his bedroom. “I can do that.”

Chapter Eighteen

To say that Cross Phillips had stamina was an understatement to say the least. After I asked him to help me forget the reality of my life, he bent me over the bed, moving only the essential pieces of clothing needed, and took me fast, driving me into the sort of orgasm I’d never expected. Then we headed down to the kitchen where he made me a dinner that could only be called decadent.

That was three hours ago.

Since then, he’d given me a full-body massage, and eaten me out until I’d nearly been sobbing with overstimulation. Then we took a bath. Or rather, I did, and he washed me. I’d assumed that meant we were done...until he started cleaning somewhere extra thoroughly.

I gasped when his finger pressed against my anus, slicked with soap.

“Just breathe, baby,” he murmured. “It will burn a bit, but I’m going to make you feel so good.”

I looked up so that my eyes met his, and then I nodded. I forced myself to relax as he pushed his finger inside me. Air hissed from between my teeth. It did burn, and I knew the soap wasn’t helping any, but I trusted him to do as he promised.

After he dried me off, we headed back to the bedroom and he stretched me out on the bed, rolling me onto my stomach. I immediately tensed when he put his hands on my ass, but he simply kneaded his fingers into my flesh as he maneuvered my legs apart and settled between them.