Under Wraps (4 page)

Up ahead, traffic condensed into three lanes as they left Washington, D.C., in the distance. The snow was falling faster and Jake switched on the wipers.

“I brought a suit,” he assured her, clicking a button for the defrosters. “I should be fine.”

“Actually—” She adjusted a fleece blanket on her lap that he'd brought in case either of them wanted to sleep on the way. But even if she could have talked herself into sleeping, she was a little afraid that the man was so much on her mind she might end up moaning his name during a sexy dream or something equally embarrassing. Between Jake and their unconventional
destination, she was having a hard time keeping her thoughts on the straight and narrow. “This resort caters to a very particular clientele. The name Marquis is a nod to the underground gentlemen's clubs that served British aristocrats in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Guests are expected to uphold the fantasy element of the experience, so we'll have no choice but to dress like the natives.”

He cut a quick glance her way, eyes full of skepticism.

“I hope you're messing with me.”

“I wholeheartedly wish that I was,” she answered, envisioning herself stuck in layers of petticoats with a bustle and corset.

“What kind of hotel imposes a dress code?”

“First of all, this is not your normal hotel. It's a privately owned club—more like an elegant country house that offers exclusive invitations. Second, the period costumes aren't mandatory. But if we don't play the game, it would be like wandering around a nudist colony in a tux. You don't want to stick out at the resort if you're there to question people and track down information.”

“I'm not wearing a sissy-boy collar up to my chin with a two-mile necktie.”

“I'm pretty sure it's called a cravat.” And it would be a far cry from the blue dress shirt he wore with a worn-in white T-shirt underneath.

Though she was pretty sure he would look as mouthwatering in one as the other. Her gaze darted over his broad shoulders. Everything about him broadcast power. Strength. Hotness.

“Whatever.”

“The good news is that I recall a lot of functions that call for masks of one sort or another. That will help me mingle more since there will be very little chance of being recognized that way.”

In the pocket of her trench coat, her cell phone vibrated with an incoming message. Checking it, she saw a note from the management at their destination.

“It's a confirmation for our reservation. They want us to know that we'll miss the main seating for dinner and that they'll serve us in our room.” She scrolled down the screen, not ready to think about sharing a bedroom with the man in the driver's seat. The suite contained a queen-size bed plus a trundle; apparently pullout sofas weren't period-accurate for their furnishings. The trundle thing had always struck her as amusing since they so obviously weren't meant for people bringing kids to the hotel. Apparently a trundle was the Marquis's comfortable answer to a threesome sleeping arrangement.

But in their case, it meant Jake would be sleeping only a few feet away from her, even in the biggest room available.

How awkward would that be to go from throwing darts at him to bedding down with him in a thirty-hour span? A quick shiver chased down her spine.

“Sounds good. I won't be ready to face a bunch of role-playing swingers the moment we step into the place anyhow.”

“Although—” her thumb hovered over the scroll key on her phone “—we are invited to the evening entertainment that starts at eleven.”

“Should I be afraid to ask?” He cruised past signs for Baltimore as the snow coated the landscape.

A few cars with Christmas trees tied to their roofs passed, the sight a little surreal during this conversation about private sex clubs and role-playing naughty aristocrats.

“Apparently it's a vignette called The French Maid.” Jamming the phone into an open compartment on the door of the SUV, Marnie didn't want to think about it anymore, let alone discuss the nature of the club with Jake.

“You've been there before. What are the entertainments like?”

“I—” Her cheeks heated at an old memory. “I don't consider myself overly uptight, but I couldn't sit through the only one I ever started to watch.”

“You're blushing?” He sounded far too amused.

“How would you possibly know that if your eyes were on the road?” The air in the SUV's interior felt warm and heavy—too intimate by half.

She shoved the blanket from her lap and tossed it in the backseat.

“Details, please.”

Retrieving her bottle of water from the cup holder, she took a long swig, partially to delay. Partially to cool off.

“It was that good?” he prodded, all too aware of her discomfort.

“No. I don't know.” It would be important to prepare for their stay, to steel herself against whatever wayward thoughts the place inspired. “It was more elegant than I
imagined it would be. More of a peep show exhibition than anything overt.”

“You ran because it was a turn-on.”

“I didn't run. I left because it felt icky to share a steamy moment with a room full of strangers.”

“How was it any different than watching a movie at the theater?”

She pointed toward the sign for 95 North where the interstate divided.

“There's more anonymity in a theater somehow with the chairs all facing one direction. Plus, that's a movie. This had real live people acting it out in front of us and the show was nowhere near PG-13. The entertainment at the Marquis felt more…communal.”

Now Jake reached for his water bottle and chugged it faster than she had.

“Maybe this isn't the best topic for someone who needs to drive for ten more hours, after all.” He replaced the water and cracked the window.

Had she been aware of him before? Now she could practically feel the warmth of his exhalations across the console between them.

“You asked,” she reminded him.

“And with good reason. The more I know about this place, the better.” He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt even though the neck was open. “But for now, maybe we shouldn't dwell on the gratuitous nudity.”

“I never said anything about nudity.”

“And you see where my mind went anyhow? Moving on.” He cleared his throat and straightened a pant leg at
the knee. “Did you bring anyone to that show with you? A work colleague, friend, boyfriend?”

“As a rule, I don't mix business with pleasure and I always traveled alone in my work for Premiere.”

“You should make a list of everyone you remember from that last trip—anyone from management to waitstaff who stands out in your memory, anyone you came in contact with who worked there.”

“Okay.” Grabbing her phone, she slid open the keypad to type some notes.

“I'll have you email it to my office and we'll run some background checks to see if anything unusual comes up.”

“We should do that before we arrive. Did I mention there's no wireless on-site? Or phones, either. Well, you can have a phone, but if they see you with one in any of the common rooms, they hold it until your departure date. You have to agree to that in a waiver when you check in.”

“For a luxury resort, it's damn restrictive, isn't it? Although I'm sure that's what makes it all the easier to commit a crime from a place like that. Less eyes watching your every move.”

“On the contrary, there are eyes everywhere. They're just more focused on erogenous zones than technology.”

He slid another sideways glance at her and she felt it shiver over her skin as surely as if he'd touched her.

“I'm beginning to think the surroundings are going to prove a hell of a distraction.”

No. The biggest distraction would be Jake himself—but she didn't want to put that into words when she
needed to be building barriers against him instead of demolishing them.

“As long as we focus on finding a crook, we'll be fine.” Some anonymous scumbag had cost her a lucrative living and tried to have her jailed for a crime she hadn't committed. The sooner she found out who, the easier she'd sleep.

“Or…” He rubbed a hand over his jaw like a man in deep thought. “Instead of ignoring the obvious, we could act on it.”

She blinked, not sure she'd understood.

“Excuse me?”

“Part of the problem is not knowing how we're going to deal with the inevitable sexual chemistry once we're bumping up against each other day and night in a small space.” He got into the left lane and slowed down as an exit approached.

“I think it's imperative we ignore that in a working relationship.” She hadn't been kidding about not mixing business with pleasure.

“It'd be easier to ignore if we confronted the chemistry, tested the wattage and found out it was just some idle urge, wouldn't it?” Getting off the exit, he darted into a coffee shop parking lot.

Next thing she knew, the SUV was in Park and Jake Brennan had his seat belt off. He reached over to pop hers open with a click, as well.

When his knuckles grazed her hip, she knew this wasn't a routine java run. He'd pulled the car over with a clear purpose that he communicated through a hot perusal of her body, from thighs to hips, belly to breasts.

“That's a ludicrous idea.” Mostly because she had the feeling that “testing” any chemistry would uncover a wellspring so hot it would take days to tamp it back down.

“Is it?” He reached across the console to smooth a strand of her hair behind one ear, inciting a path of gooseflesh up her arm directly underneath his hand. The words
hell yes
never made it to her lips, even though she darted her tongue along them to prime the path for the utterance.

His eyes followed the movement like a tracking device, his pupils dilating so that his green eyes turned almost completely dark. Her heart hammered against her chest. Her brain trotted out every misplaced fantasy she'd ever had about Jake since first laying eyes on him that day he'd built her cabinet.

Each of those sexy daydreams came back to her now, conspiring against all her best intentions.

Just one kiss.

The thought crossed her mind long enough to propel her forward a scant inch—past the point of no return.

T
WO MONTHS' WORTH
of waiting for Marnie paid off.

Big-time.

He knew the moment she'd consented to the kiss and he sealed the deal an instant later, capturing her mouth with his for that first experimental taste. The bubble gum scent of her lips and the subtle hint of a surrendering sigh drew him closer. He wrapped an arm around her back, anchoring her to him.

Hands coming to rest on his shoulders, she twisted her fingers in the fabric, her nails scraping lightly over the pressed cotton. He'd waited so damn long to feel that sensation of her arching against him. How many times had he watched her in his surveillance footage, only to war with his conscience about wanting her? Now, her lips slid sweetly over his, her whole body melting into his like hot butter.

The gearshift pressing in his side didn't matter. Nor did the water bottles rolling on the floor as he knocked things off the console. Marnie's breathy hum sang in his ears like a victory tune.

If only he could have a little more of her…

He hooked a finger in the V of her trench coat and tugged her nearer. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, ratcheting up the heat. The soft swell of her breasts grazed his chest and his blood surged south so fast he could have taken her then and there.

If it had been dark outside, he would have been able to pull her onto his lap without anyone around them being the wiser. But in the middle of a parking lot in broad daylight?

Damn it.

He broke away from her with a truckload of regret, his breathing harsh. Her eyes opened slowly as she seemed to process the break in the action. Her pupils were dilated, her lips slightly open as if awaiting another kiss. Finally, her fingers unfurled from his shirt, freeing him.

“Bad idea.” She pronounced the verdict even as her cheeks remained flushed and she ran her tongue over her lips as if to seek a final taste of him.

“The kiss wasn't to your satisfaction?” He swiped his thumb along her jaw, unable to release her totally.

“You know perfectly well that's not the problem.” She slid away from him, settling back into her own seat until his hand fell away. “Testing the chemistry was the bad idea since all we did was prove how combustible it could be if we touched each other.”

Frowning, she tightened the belt on her trench coat and tucked the lapels closer together. Did she think a frail cloth barrier could stifle the sensations that surely raced over her skin the same way they sizzled along his?

The hell of it was, all she accomplished by cinching that belt was to accentuate show-stopping curves he wanted to thoroughly explore.

“Wrong.” His fingers itched to undress her since he knew better than anyone how much she liked to wear silky slips under her buttoned-up business attire.

Not that it would help his cause to remind her of that particular fact.

“Excuse me?” She glared at him across the console, her golden brown hair trapped in the collar of her coat until she flipped it free with a flick of her wrist. “Have you forgotten we need to work together this week? Don't you think this kind of distraction complicates a working relationship?”

“Maybe. But that doesn't make the kiss a bad idea.” He put the car into Reverse, trying to turn his focus toward getting them safely to their destination as quickly as possible. He sure hoped he could shave some time off the twelve hours his maps suggested it would take. “It's always better to know what you're dealing with than to wait and wonder.”

“And now we know.” She didn't sound too happy about the fact. “We're not only stuck in a hedonistic sensual haven together, we're also susceptible to sexual temptation. Don't you think that's a problem when we need to concentrate on finding a thief before he bankrupts your client or me, or both of us?”

When she put it that way, it did sound like a problem.

“Nothing will interfere with my job,” he assured her.
“I guarantee you that much.” He owed Vincent Galway a quick resolution to this mess.

Without the handful of investigative jobs from Premiere during the year since he'd left the force—and the contacts Vince had shared to help land Jake some lucrative work—Jake would have never grown his thriving business so quickly.

“Good.” She settled into the corner of her seat farthest from him and closed her eyes as if she would finally sleep. Or at least, pretend to. “Then we're agreed we'll never let that happen again.”

Never?

That was a long time in Jake's book and he didn't plan to agree or disagree. As far as he was concerned, strong sensual chemistry would lend their cover more authenticity.

And after one electric taste of Marnie Wainwright, Jake knew there wasn't a chance in hell they'd resist the lure of that attraction for long.

 

“N
AMES, PLEASE
?”

The request was issued by the sleek and incredibly sexy brunette behind the desk of the Marquis that night.

Marnie half hid behind Jake as they checked into the resort to ensure no one recognized her. She had never seen this woman who greeted them before, though, not unusual since the Marquis didn't employ many regular staff members, preferring to run the place more like an ashram than a business. Guests who lingered there for more than a week took turns as greeters and hosts,
welcoming other guests. Guests could even sign up for waitstaff and housekeeping duties, jobs that frequently filled role-playing fantasies. No doubt tonight's greeter was a hotel guest looking to meet new people if she'd volunteered for desk duty.

With that in mind, Marnie didn't worry quite so much about being recognized. Besides, she'd purchased temporary hair color when they hit the New York border and was now a redhead. She'd also braided a plait around the crown of her head so that she fit in with the historically themed Marquis. A small, cosmetic change, but it gave her a very different look.

“Jack and Marie Barnes,” Jake lied, signing the old-fashioned register with fake names while the hostess ran a credit card.

Marnie had been interested to see if the transaction would work, but Jake had assured her that the card was tied to a false business that could not be traced back to him.

Apparently, no one knew their way around the law quite as well as an ex-cop.

“Welcome, Jack and Marie. I'm Lianna.” The dark-haired siren handed Jake a room card imprinted with a photo of an old-fashioned iron key. “Is this your first time with us at the Marquis?”

The woman looked as if she could have walked right out of a late nineteenth-century painting. Everything from her loosely upswept curls to her pink gown fit in with the elegant surroundings. Exotic Persian carpets in an array of patterns dotted the highly polished wooden floors. Wrought-iron sconces hung at regular intervals
along the walls of the reception parlor, the flames flickering with the regularity of gas fixtures. Softly worn tapestries depicting maidens in varying states of undress were the only indication that the Marquis might not be your average historic hotel.

The sensual works on the walls made for an interesting contrast with the holiday decor. Every inch of the place was decked in greenery and holly berries. Evergreen boughs had been struck through the spindles on the wide main staircase as they entered. Bowls of fruit with gold ornaments dotted tables and stands.

“We've never been here before,” Jake told the woman, taking the key. “It's my understanding we can have dinner brought to our suite?”

“If you wish, but we encourage all our guests to become acquainted with the layout of the rooms and the other residents as soon as possible to make the most of every moment here.” Lianna came out from behind the secretary desk that served as guest reception, her bustled pink skirts swishing softly with her movements. “Ideally, your first night under our roof should give you a taste of all the delights to come.”

She paused so close to them that Marnie could smell the woman's perfume. Her long, dark lashes fell to half-mast as she sent a look of blatant invitation in a glance that darted from Marnie to Jake and back again.

Marnie had known she and Jake would face temptations at the Marquis—from each other as well as from third-party invitations. She just hadn't expected them to start arriving so damn quickly. Possessiveness made
her thread her arm through Jake's, even though she had no idea if Lianna was flirting with him or her.

“I'm sure the meal will taste just as delightful in our room as it does in the dining hall.” Marnie tugged on Jake's elbow, away from the bombshell in pink satin.

“Lianna.” Jake remained in place. “We'd like to observe some of the evening's activities without joining anyone else. Is that possible?”

Lianna's dark eyes lit with approval.

“We welcome voyeurs, of course.” She turned back to her desk and, bending forward over it to search for something, she presented them with a close-up view of her ruffle-swathed rump and a hint of seamed stocking.

Marnie suddenly hoped the woman proved guilty of the crimes they were investigating so that Marnie could see the flirtatious temptress behind bars.

Jake wrapped his arm around her, at least, assuring Marnie he hadn't forgotten she was alive. Not that she wanted to embark on some torrid affair with the P.I. herself. But somehow it would have bothered her to have him ogle another woman while he pretended to be her husband.

At least, she wished that was the only reason for the surge of jealousy.

“Here you go.” Lianna turned around in triumph, holding another key card in her hand. This one had a picture of a wooden door with a cutout slit, sort of like the flip-open slots used in a prison to serve a confined inmate his meals. “Just slip this key into any of the peepholes that look like this around the hotel.”

She tapped the card to indicate the image of the wooden slot.

Marnie recalled seeing those slots around the Marquis the one other time she'd visited in her promotional efforts for Premiere Properties, but she hadn't had the slightest notion of their purpose. Consensual voyeurism was one thing. Being spied on unaware was something totally different. Had she been watched on her last trip here without ever being the wiser?

“Do any of the private rooms have peepholes that we won't know about?” Marnie was horrified to think some unseen guest might be able to spy on her and Jake in their suite.

The thought reminded her all over again that Jake had watched her for two months without her knowledge. She couldn't help another surge of anger at his violation of her privacy.

“Of course not.” Lianna leaned closer to give Marnie's arm a reassuring squeeze as if they were close friends. “The only guests who have ones in their rooms request it specifically at check-in.”

“Exhibitionists,” Jake clarified, pocketing the key.

“A voyeur's best friend,” Lianna added with a wink. She settled her hand on her hip in a pose worthy of Mae West, her curves displayed at a suggestive, pinup girl angle. “Let me know if there's anything else either of you need. I'll be at the desk all night.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, Jake turned away from her and tucked Marnie under his arm to lead her through the hotel.

Ducking her head, she allowed Jake to guide her
toward an antique-looking elevator with the old-fashioned gold gate that pulled across the doors. They had agreed in advance to let Jake be the public face of their couple since there was a chance Marnie could be recognized even in disguise.

“We can take the elevator to our room on the third floor.” Marnie knew she should be exhausted, even though she'd slept a little on the trip. Still, adrenaline coursed through her after the run-in with Lianna and being inundated by talk of voyeurs and images of half-naked women on the larger-than-life tapestries. She'd seen those same wall hangings the last time she'd visited, but somehow they packed more punch with Jake standing next to her. Her senses seemed to have become hyperacute ever since that kiss in the SUV on the way up here.

Now she wondered how she could have ever visited this place without thinking about sex every second.

“No.” Jake kept walking past the elevator. “Let's see the clothing store first. We're going to want to get straight to work tomorrow and apparently we'll need the right duds.”

They passed a woman—clearly a guest—dressed in a red velvet maid's uniform with a Santa hat and stilettos. The volunteer worker pushed her cart full of scented soaps and complimentary bottles of edible massage oil as if it were all in a day's work, but her eyes cut to Jake with even more obvious intent than Lianna had shown.

Marnie had seen enough. Her senses couldn't take another moment of nonstop sensual bombardment.

“I can't do this.” She lowered her voice until the maid disappeared around the end of the hall where a seventeen-foot-high Christmas tree welcomed visitors.

“What do you mean, you can't do this?” He turned to face her in the now-deserted corridor. Only a few sconces lit the long stretch of hallway. Somewhere nearby, she could hear hints of chamber music and laughter. A party of some sort, or dinner perhaps.

Jake's green eyes narrowed, all his attention on her, his arm still wrapped about her waist. He let go of the rolling suitcase behind him.

“I think I'm just overwhelmed. It's been such a long couple of days. I went from a normal life to finding a hidden camera and then starting on this thousand-mile…odyssey to seek vindication.”

With a dark look, he covered her mouth with his hand.

“Not here.”

The feel of his fingers on her lips sent a surge of longing through her. She had the strangest impulse to flick her tongue along the inside of his palm but she forced herself to be sensible.

Of course, he was right. She was just overtired and muddleheaded. Someone could be listening. Or watching. Hadn't they just discovered there were peepholes for private spying everywhere? But she was so keyed-up she couldn't think straight.