Nightshade Page 3

  “What kind of lawyer do you want to be?” He poured the wine and pushed a glass in her direction.

  “Criminal,” she said, realizing the irony of what he did for a living.

  He arched a brow and the corner of his mouth tipped upward. “Here’s to the start of something potentially very interesting.”

  2

  Two weeks later…

  Xavier closed his laptop, satisfied with the notes he’d made so far, but not thrilled with the lack of direction or information he’d been able to gather on Larry Thompson and his connection to the Carlucci mob family and Cali and her parents’ restaurant. He didn’t like to make assumptions about anything, but he suspected the family business was used for money laundering. The question was how much did Mr. and Mrs. Banister know about their business dealings with Thompson.

  And did Cali know anything.

  More importantly, had those business dealings led to her being strong-armed into being a high-priced call girl, or had she gone into it willingly?

  Pulling up the security recordings, he hit the fast forward button. He leaned back in his father’s leather chair. As a kid, he used to sit in this very office, on the floor, playing with his Legos, thinking about the day he’d be able to fill out the chair. It had never been about working for his dad, just being like the man he admired most.

  The only thing the security camera showed had been Cali padding down the stairs for some coffee at seven in the morning. He reached over and shut the system down, disappointment filling his mind. If she’d been lurking about at night, he’d have something to confront her with and open the can of worms that would hopefully lead to her giving him the story of the century.

  His source at the VIP lounge hadn’t any information at all on Cali. Honestly, his source hadn’t given him much except for Susan’s name. Her story catapulted Xavier into this cockamamie plan.

  He stepped from his father’s office and made his way toward the family room. Standing in the foyer, he leaned against the wall and stared at Cali. Snow floated gently from the sky, landing on the sandy shore. The waves crashed into the beach, pulling the snow into the frigid ocean. Once, when he was maybe six, and they’d all come out here for some Christmas party, he built a snowman on the beach, not understanding the sea would steal it. He’d pressed his hands and face against the glass, screaming before falling to the floor and tossing the best temper tantrum he could muster.

  Never brought the snowman back, but the next morning, he woke up to a ten-foot one next to the pool. His dad swore he didn’t make it.

  Cali rolled her neck, pulling him back to the here and now. She wore his sweat pants, which he wondered where she’d gotten them from, and a long-sleeve, plain-white shirt. Her long, auburn hair curled over her shoulders while she bit down on the end of a pencil. A legal pad was in one hand, and the other held a very large paperback book that reminded him of those study guides he had to use when studying for his ACT and SAT tests.

  Cali had been something unexpected. Smart, beautiful, fun to talk to, and down-to-earth. He didn’t feel he had to wine and dine her, though he did enjoy cooking with her. Every night since she’d arrived, they cooked a fine meal and drank wine and got to know one another, only he was living a lie.

  “You’re staring at me,” she said, not turning her head.

  “Of course I am. You’re the prettiest thing in the room.” He pushed himself from the wall and made his way to the sofa, lifting her feet and setting them down on his lap.

  A bold move considering they hadn’t even shared a kiss.

  They had a few long stares. The occasional accidental touch while cooking. But nothing overtly sensual in any way. Of course, he had been avoiding her during the day, hiding in his office, working.

  More like making sure he wasn’t distracted by her presence, though she’d been worming her way into his mind every second of the day.

  And into his dreams at night.

  None of which had anything to do with his story.

  “I’ve never understood toe polish other than it’s sexy.” He brushed the tip of his forefinger over her big toe. “But in the winter, is it necessary?”

  “I have a little more time on my hands than I’m used to, so.” She shrugged. She acted casual around him, but there was an underlying tension seeping from her pores that he couldn’t put a finger on. He’d grown up being used to women treating him like an object. Not because he was all that good-looking. He considered himself average in that department, but in his circle of peers, young ladies wanted power and money, and they all thought he could provide a lavish lifestyle similar to the rich and famous.

  When his father had cut him off financially right after college, he’d been concerned he wouldn’t make it. He had a thirst for his father’s expensive tastes but didn’t have the bank account to go with it. However, Xavier had quickly learned how make it on a lot less and enjoy every minute of it.

  He intended to pay his father back every penny he used on this personal sting operation the second the publisher cut him the first check on this next book.

  Only, he had to get the damn proposal to them in a couple of months, and he needed to bring down Nightshade and Carlucci in order to even have a true crime book.

  “When do you take your LSATs?”

  “June, which gives me time to take them again if I don’t do well before applying for the following year.”

  Her heel rested on his thigh, and it proved impossible to keep his hand off her soft skin as he massaged the top of her foot gently. “That means you’re a year and a half from entering law school.”

  “It will be worth it in the long run,” she said, the pencil still pressed between her lips.

  “What about money between the time our year is up with men and law school?” He hoped his questions appeared to be normal everyday conversation and not probing, investigative inquiry.

  “Maybe you’ll renew our agreement, and technically I’ll still be employed,” she said with a forced smile. Her forehead crinkled, and the slight laugh that fell from her lips had a nervous tremble.

  She didn’t want to renew anything. The question was: Why?

  “Maybe I will,” he said, running his finger across her arch, watching her toes curl. He could think of another way to make her feet flex and point, but he did his best to squelch that thought. Sex was not on the table, no matter how much he found himself attracted to her. She was the story. The only purpose to flirting had been to find an opening into getting her to talk about why she’d opted for this line of work. “Did you look at all the dresses I had sent over for you to consider for our debut date in public?”

  “They are all so gorgeous. I can’t decide which one.” She set her study material on the coffee table, pulling her knees to her chest, leaving his lap as cold as the winter wind slamming into the windows.

  “You can keep the ones you like that fit. We have a few things to attend over the next couple of weekends.”

  “I can’t keep them all. You left the price tag on them and—”

  “It’s all part of the arrangement.” He’d begun to resent Nightshade and everything they represented. If he hadn’t picked Cali, some other man would have, and he’d have his dirty hands all over her by now, and that just pissed him off.

  “Thank you.” She rested her chin on her knee. “I noticed a jewelry box was delivered with the dresses.”

  “Those, unfortunately, are on loan. Sorry about that.” Yeah, on loan from his mother and sisters. His father had put a limit on what he could spend, as well as a two percent interest rate on whatever the total for the year came out to be.

  “That’s impressive,” she said, her lips neither drawn into a smile, nor a frown. “I’ve always been fascinated by borrowed jewelry.”

  “It’s rented, so to speak. I don’t have enough clout to have a designer lend pieces out without a deposit.”

  “I’ll make sure nothing happens to whatever pieces I wear.”

  “Can I ask you
question?” It was now or never.

  “Of course.”

  “Is this your first placement?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “How did you end up working for Nightshade?” He studied her facial expressions as she shifted in her seat, closing her arms.

  “Easy money to pay for law school.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like spilled milk splashing against the tile floor.

  “There are lots of ways to pay for college. It seems extreme to take a year or so off.” He bit his tongue on asking question after question. He’d have to phrase everything as a statement in a conversation between friends; otherwise, he was going to scare her off.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You grew up in a world where everyone got a car for their sixteenth birthday. In my world, if we wanted a car, we had to get a job and pay for it ourselves, and it wouldn’t be some shiny new Range Rover, or whatever is under the tarp in the garage.”

  “I’ll give you that. But when I graduated college, I sat in my father’s office at home and watched him cut up all my credit cards that he paid. Then he depleted all my bank accounts. All I got to keep was the money I got as a gift and my car, which I sold to buy something I could afford on my own salary.”

  She tossed her head back and laughed. “Seriously? You think that story makes me believe you understand anything about having to struggle every day? I watched my parents work eighty-hour weeks to stay above water. They wanted to pay for my college but couldn’t afford it. The only reason I was able to attend was because I got a partial scholarship. And even now, I’m still paying off my student loans. I bet when you bought that car you could afford, it was paid for with the money you got from selling the car your daddy bought you.” Both her eyebrows shot up, daring him to deny it.

  He cringed.

  “Thought so,” she said with a huff.

  “I’m sorry, Cali. I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just trying to understand why someone like you would go to work for Nightshade.”

  She opened her mouth, but he shushed her with his finger. “I know this is going to come out ass-backward, but just listen. You’re not what I expected.”

  She batted his hand away. “What did you expect, exactly?”

  This might get him slapped. “Certainly not someone who was smarter than me. To be totally honest.” Right. As if he’d lay his cards on the table now. “All I wanted was someone to take to functions. I hadn’t planned on spending any time with you outside of that.”

  “Then why the living arrangements?”

  Here comes the biggest lie of all. “To get my mother off my back. She’s constantly trying to fix me up, wanting me to settle down and get married.”

  “And what do you plan on telling your mother when our year is up?”

  “That I was such a bastard, you had to leave me,” he said with his best wicked smile. This conversation was far from over, but he’d give it a break for now.

  “That will break her heart.” Cali set her feet on the floor. “It’s getting late. I should probably go get ready.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’d need to do other than put on a dress, which wouldn’t be anywhere near as stunning as you.”

  “Flattery won’t get you places.”

  “Places? What kind of places?” Her took her by the hand, helping her from the sofa, and drawing her to his chest. His heart hammered in his throat. Touching her had been his first mistake.

  This was going to be his second.

  Her hands rested on his shoulders. She tilted her head, her tongue peeking out as it glided across her plump, rosy lips. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Something that I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you at the train station,” he mused, drifting his hands over her firm biceps, slowly making their way to her exposed neck. “Feel free to stop me.”

  Her hot breath tickled his skin as she breathed, sending his body all sorts of signals, and he reacted in such a way that told him he wouldn’t last another evening without finding out if the attraction between them was part of the illusion, or something else.

  It reminded him of one journalism professor he’d had that had told him, never, under any circumstances, get close to anyone remotely related to your story. No informants. No sources. And certainly not those who could potentially be the center of your piece, and Cali was indeed part of the story.

  “This isn’t part of the agreement.” She bit down on her lower lip.

  He blinked. “No. It’s not. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been dying to kiss you.” Cupping the back of her neck, he melded his mouth against hers, tasting her strawberry and Nutella snack. He kept things slow and controlled, which just made the ache he’d developed over her stronger and more intense. It had started deep in his gut and spread like syrup, filling all the nooks and crannies of a waffle. He’d had almost no experience with relationships, and the few he did have, didn’t end well. Women wanted something he couldn’t give.

  His father’s money.

  And even if he could, that isn’t how he wanted to live his life. Well, except maybe a house like this on the ocean where he could write and do his research. The last two weeks, besides the distraction of the woman in his arms, he’d accomplished more than normal, and he blamed it on the ocean and the view.

  His mother constantly told him that no amount of money would make him happy. That money, while a driving force in his father’s life, wasn’t what drove his father. It wasn’t his passion, like his family had been, and Xavier appreciated that.

  He deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue around hers, sucking it into his mouth, feeling her full breasts pressed into his body, her tight nipples constricting against his hard chest. He’d dreamt of this moment every night for the last two weeks, and the reality, thus far, surpassed his fantasies with flying colors.

  “I should go get ready if we’re leaving in an hour.”

  “I need a cold shower if you’re going to leave me hanging.”

  She patted his chest, turning on her heels. “Cold showers are good for the soul.”

  Kissing him in his family room had been a momentary lapse in judgment.

  Making out with him in the back of the limo on the way to a news award show in the city like a horny teenager on prom night went beyond a bad decision, but it didn’t stop her from letting him feel her up.

  With his hand on her breast and his thumb dipping inside her strapless dress, caressing her bare nipple, he nibbled on her neck while she ran her hands over his taut shoulders. His tongue felt like velvet inside her mouth. She could kiss him for hours and not get bored for a single second.

  “You’re irresistible,” he murmured against her earlobe.

  “Keep talking.” She sucked in a deep breath, tugging her dress closer to her body, trapping his finger against her skin.

  “Beautiful.” His kisses dribbled down her chest, dangerously close to her puckered nipple. “Sexy. Sweet. Dangerous.”

  “Dangerous, how?”

  “I was physically attracted right away, but that I could have managed had it not been for the fact you, the woman, intrigues me on so many levels. You stimulate me intellectually as well as sexually. It’s a risky combination.”

  She wished she didn’t understand exactly what he’d meant. After the first night at his house, she’d begun to think he not only didn’t find her attractive, but he didn’t like her since it felt like he wanted nothing to do with her. She worried that there would be no way he’d lavish her with gifts to sell or cash to help pay off the devil.

  Now she had a closet full of designer clothes, and she hoped she’d be able to sneak some out soon. That would be the easy part. The hard part would be not falling for this man. She needed to pull away and not just physically, but emotionally, though she doubted she’d be able to hold out from having sex with Xavier for an entire year, so she needed to build a protective wall around her heart.

  He thought she was dangerous? He was a roller coaster abou
t to derail in the middle of an upside-down loop.

  “I think we’re here,” he whispered.

  “You’ve messed up my hair.” He’d done more than mess up her hair, but that had been the first thing that came to mind.

  “And your boob is hanging out.”

  She glanced down, hiking up her dress, her cheeks heated. “Wonderful. I think I’ll stay in the limo.”

  He cupped her chin, his green eyes piercing her soul. Protecting herself would be harder than she thought, but she’d have to find a way.

  She needed him to not want to renew their agreement after the first year. If she didn’t have enough money by then, there was no point anyway.

  “Just think of what we can do on the way back.”

  “We’re not having sex for the first time in a car.”

  He smiled. “At least I know sex is on the table.”

  “I’m not going to do it on the table.” The limo door swung open, and she took the hand of the attendant in front of the Marriott Hotel where the ceremony was being held.

  She adjusted her dress just as that reporter, Marlin, snapped his camera, lights flickering in front of her, causing her to lose her balance.

  “Back off, Jeff,” Xavier said as he stepped in front of her.

  The reporter continued taking pictures while asking questions about Cali, which Xavier didn’t answer. “Ready?” Xavier pressed his hand at the small of her back, just at the triangular opening of her dress, his fingers dancing over skin as they moved quickly into the hotel lobby, leaving the cold New York winter chill outside.

  “If that guy spent more time on real stories, maybe he’d have a bigger following,” she said, pausing mid-step as they passed the front desk.

  Thompson leaned against the wall, talking with a man she didn’t recognize.

  “Well, I am up for an award, so maybe a little coverage, even if from that idiot, would be nice.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” she said, keeping her gaze on Xavier and his dashing smile. She passed Thompson without making eye contact, but his presence sent goosebumps across her skin.