The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 2 (3 page)

“I’m not upset. I’m just worried about my friend.”

He moved up behind me and grasped my upper arms. “Rawn is a force to be reckoned with when he sets his mind on something. He will find her.”

“And if he doesn’t? What if they—”

“They don’t want to hurt her. If that was their goal, they wouldn’t have bothered to abduct her.” He forced me to turn around. “This is just about some company wanting the specs for the 3D telescope, or some other product Cepheus is in the middle of developing.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because there have been threats against the employees of Cepheus before.”

That information allowed my stiffened spine to relax a little. The knot in my stomach, too. I nodded briefly, suddenly aware of just how close Conrad was standing. And how wonderful he smelled.

And then I remembered something else he said the night we first met, that night after the star party: “Your uncle screwed me over. I should call Johnny Duprey right now and tell him where you are.”

***

Madison

“Who are you?”

I was sitting in a folding chair, one of those cheap ones that schools use for parent seating at assemblies. My hands were tied behind my back, my ankles now strapped to the legs of the chair. The gag and blindfold were gone. A tall man, different from the one who had grabbed me at the outlet mall, was leaning close to me, his spittle washing over my face every time he spoke.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Who do you think I am?” I finally asked.

And was rewarded with a sound slap across the face.

“Madison,” another voice, a disembodied one that seemed somewhat familiar, came from the darkness behind the first man. “Her name is Madison.”

“Madison.” The first man stared into my face for a long moment, and then he began to laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. You fucking idiots grabbed the wrong girl, but you also managed to save yourselves by grabbing a bigger fish. Do you know who this is?”

No one answered, if there was anyone else in the dark room to speak.

“This,” the man drew out on a long, slow breath, “is Rawn Jackman’s new assistant.” He laughed again. “This, my friends, is dynamite.”

He was still laughing, as he pressed the gag back into my mouth.

What did he mean,
dynamite
?

Mellissa

I curled up on the couch and flipped through the channels on the television. Rawn had thought of everything, including all the premium channels on the cable package. I settled on
The Notebook
, even though I’d seen it more than a dozen times before. I loved Ryan Gosling.

I could hear Conrad speaking on the phone. He’d stepped out into the hallway for privacy, but he’d left the door open. I caught a few words here and there (“police…come in…can wait…”), but I wasn’t entirely sure who he was talking to or what they were discussing. I hoped it was Rawn. And I hoped he was telling Conrad they had found Madison.

I wondered how Annie was holding up. And if Madison’s parents had been informed of her abduction just yet.

After a few minutes, I turned off the television and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. I couldn’t just sit here while my friend was missing. I grabbed my cellphone and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Conrad asked as I jammed my finger against the elevator button.

“To check on Annie.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“But you can’t go running off half-cocked, either.” Conrad stormed up behind me and grabbed my arm just as the elevator opened. “We don’t know who’s out there looking for you.”

“Don’t we?”

His grip on my arm tightened painfully. “I didn’t call Johnny.”

“How do I know that? How do I know it isn’t his guys that have Madison right now?”

“Because I said so.”

“And I’m supposed to just take your word for it?”

“Yes.”

Conrad pulled me around, slamming my back up against the wall as the elevator doors slammed shut beside us. He moved into me, thrusting his knee between my legs and pressing himself so close to me that every breath he exhaled, I breathed in.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m not the man I used to be. I’m not the guy who once did business with your uncle.”

“People like that don’t change.”

“I did.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. There was something about the look in his eyes, the softness that was there just around the edges. I grew up with the criminals my uncle did business with; I saw what their lives did to them, how it showed in their faces, in the scars on their bodies, and in the hardness of their eyes. I didn’t see that in Conrad.

But I couldn’t forget the threat he’d made just a week ago, a threat that seemed to have come true this afternoon when Madison went missing.

“Besides,” Conrad said, moving even closer to me so that our lips were less than a hair apart, “if I wanted to hurt you, I would have had Johnny or one of his guys waiting for you when I opened the apartment door.”

“Or maybe you’re just holding me here until he can arrive.”

“Maybe. And maybe Rawn’s in on the whole thing. Maybe he arranged for me to watch you, for us to stay here, so that Johnny can quietly sneak you out of the state. And maybe the whole thing with Madison was just a trick, a way to distract you from what was really happening.”

“If that was true, Annie would have been lying. But she was so upset—”

“Maybe Annie’s a really good actress.”

“Maybe.”

But I suspected not. Madison had really been kidnapped. And Annie had really witnessed it. There was no doubt in my mind about that.

So, was it possible that this whole thing was unrelated to my uncle’s illegal activities in New Orleans? Was it possible my cover was still intact?

I really didn’t want to be uprooted again.

I hadn’t realized how deeply my fear went until tears filled my eyes.

“I want to trust you.”

“And I want you to trust me.” Conrad pressed his palm against the side of my face, sliding it upward until his fingers began to push themselves into the length of my hair. He moved closer, his nose just barely touching mine before he turned sideways a bit, giving his lips unrestricted access to mine. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

I knew he was going to kiss me. I could already feel the silky soft brush of his lips and taste the remnants of his lunch on his tongue. I even allowed my lips to part just slightly, enough to act as an invitation, but not to give the whole store away.

And then his cellphone rang.

He stepped back, mumbling something before he answered it.

“Rawn. Any news?”

He listened for a moment, glancing at me as he did. Then, he said, “We’ll be right there.”

“Rawn needs to speak to you.”

***

“Has anything unusual happened in the last few weeks?”

I felt like I was in one of those crime shows, sitting in a dark room being interrogated by the good cop-bad cop routine. I glanced at Rawn where he was leaning back against his desk, his eyes focused on his hands clutched between his thighs. Then back at the head of security, Tommy McFarren, a former homicide detective who apparently still thought he was something of a bad ass. My hands were shaking as he paced in front of me, waiting for my answer.

It didn’t help that Conrad was standing in the corner, cheek to cheek with Einstein.

“Nothing, really,” I said, trying to concentrate on the question. “We’ve been pretty involved in the launch of the 3D telescope. But I’m not really that involved in those things. I just answer the phones and make sure Ein—Ms. Goldstein makes it to her meetings on time.”

“You didn’t receive any unusual phone calls, didn’t see any interesting memos?”

“No.”

“What about your co-workers? Did you notice any unusual behavior from them?”

My thoughts immediately moved to the way Madison would either be walking on a cloud, or angry and moody every time she came back from a long lunch or a meeting here in Rawn’s office. But I knew that had more to do with their relationship than work.

“Nothing,” I said, deciding Rawn wouldn’t appreciate me mentioning his personal relationships. “I mean, everyone was under a lot of stress these last few months, but they all seemed to handle it all right.”

“Can we have access to your computer?”

I glanced over at Einstein. She nodded.

“Fine.”

McFarren stopped pacing. He stopped right in front of me, his watery eyes taking in everything about me. “I want her kept in a secure location,” he said, speaking of me as though I were just a bug under his microscope.

“Already taken care of,” Rawn said.

McFarren didn’t acknowledge Rawn. He simply stepped around me and left the room.

“I’ll need your password,” Einstein said as she approached me. “Just write it down.”

She handed me a yellow Post-It pad, one of dozens she often had stuffed into her pockets. She liked to write little notes to herself about her projects and post them all over the office. I found one on the door to one of the bathroom stalls once. It was kind of my unofficial job to collect them up, type them into emails, and send them to her—sometimes three or four times a day. I quickly scribbled out my computer’s password and handed it back to her.

“I’ll give it to Russell,” she said to no one in particular. “He can do a quick search, make sure there’s nothing sensitive on her computer before we hand it over to McFarren.”

“He’ll want to search her desk, too,” Rawn said. He looked at me. “Do you have anything personal that you would rather no one saw?”

I shook my head. “No. Just office supplies, mostly.”

“Great.” Rawn stood and moved around the desk, pausing to shuffle around a few papers here and there. He seemed a little lost all of a sudden, as though he needed to be doing something, but didn’t know what.

I knew exactly how he felt.

“Does the CEO know what’s going on?” I suddenly asked.

Einstein looked a little confused. Conrad bit back a little smile. Rawn focused on me with an intense stare that made me feel like crawling under my chair.

“The CEO knows what she needs to know,” he said, biting off the words in a way that made it clear I should not ask any further questions.

“Okay.” I stood, moving around my chair on knees that wanted to knock together.

Conrad gestured for me to lead the way out the door. He and Einstein followed, Einstein mumbling something about emailing the head of marketing about a microchip that was set to be the next big launch for the Product Development department. We got on the elevator together, and Einstein, either consciously or out of habit, rudely pushed me aside to stand beside Conrad.

“Are you coming by the house for Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked.

“I already said I would.”

“Mother will be pleased to see you.”

Conrad glanced at his former wife. “Your parents are in the Bahamas until the end of the month, Aurora.”

“Oh, right.”

He turned toward her and pushed a wavy curl of her auburn hair out of her face. “You really need to slow it down. You’ve been working too hard.”

“My work is important to me. You know that.”

“I know.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly. “Why don’t we plan on going to a restaurant Friday night? My treat.”

She nodded just as the elevator doors opened. “I’m looking forward to it.”

We both watched her walk away, writing quickly on one of her Post-It pads as she did.

“She’s already forgotten what you said,” I told him.

“I know.”

He didn’t speak again until we walked through the door of our borrowed apartment. The moment we walked through the door, I felt cooped up again. I needed to do something, even if it was stupid.

“Can we go for a walk? Or go to the mall?” I turned and looked at Conrad. “Maybe we could go out to that outlet mall where Madison was taken. If I saw the place, maybe if I walked around, I might recognize someone—”

“The kidnappers aren’t going to be anywhere near the outlet mall anymore, Mellissa.”

“We don’t know that. As far as they know, they got away with it.”

“So far. But that’s because they’re smart.”

I headed for the door. “I can’t just sit here and wait, all these scenarios going through my mind.”

“And I can’t let you leave this apartment.” Conrad grabbed my arm, pulling me back just as my fingers brushed the doorknob. “I made a promise.”

“Rawn doesn’t have to know.”

“But I will.”

I pulled at his hold on my arm, but he was strong, and he wasn’t about to let go. We faced each other, each too stubborn in our own determination to give an inch. I could feel panic building up in my chest, fear so overwhelming that I almost couldn’t breathe.

“Please,” I whispered.

“Do you play cards?” Conrad suddenly asked.

I’m standing there, my chest heaving with my body’s attempts to fight my panic, and he wants to know if I play cards.

“I’m from Nawlins,” I said, my accent slipping out for the first time in years. “Of course.”

“We’ll play five card stud.”

I shook my head, but he had already let go of me and was striding toward the kitchen, searching through the drawers as he mumbled, “I know I saw some here somewhere.” With triumph in his voice, he held up a glossy pack of playing cards.

“I don’t want to play cards. I want to do something productive.”

“This is productive,” he said, sliding the cards from their package and shuffling them with an impressive one-handed technique. “We’ll play for time. Every hand you win, I’ll allow five minutes for a walk outside. But every hand I win, you promise fifteen minutes inside with no complainin’.”

“That’s not fair.”

“But that’s my offer.”

He finished shuffling the cards and began to deal them. The look of amusement mixed with a serious intent reminded me of my uncle. He taught me how to play poker before I learned to count.

But I hadn’t played in years.

I walked slowly to the breakfast bar and took a seat on the same stool I’d occupied earlier. Conrad stole the other, moving it to the far side so that we sat across from one another.

“You first.”

“Most guys playing poker with a girl would want to play for pieces of clothing, not time,” I said, as I organized my hand and picked three I wanted to exchange for new cards.

“I thought that would be a little forward with this being our first night together.”

I looked up, a blush threatening. But he smiled that soft, dimple-inducing smile that made my heart do funny things in my chest. I turned back to my cards.

I think he let me win the first hand. The second, too. But the third…he suddenly seemed to have a run of good luck after that.

I quickly lost track of how many hands we played, or who won what. It became more about the challenge of out-bluffing him. I had never played anyone whose expression I could not read with just a glance. Even my uncle, who won the World Series of Poker twice, had a tell that I figured out at a pretty young age. But Conrad was almost impossible to read.