Catnapped! (A Matchmaker Mystery Book 3) (6 page)

She stared at him, uncertainty flickering in the depths of her blue eyes as she searched his face.

He waited, deciding to let her take her time making whatever decision she had to come to.

Finally, she tilted her head, indicating she wanted him to follow her. He fell into step behind her as she led the way outside, did something to the house alarm, and then walked toward his car.

“It’s cold out here,” she said softly. “Do you have the key?”

“Sure.” Fishing the remote out of his pocket, he hurried to her side and opened the door for her, the perfect gentleman.

He’d forgotten the passenger seat was covered with condoms until the overhead light switched on, illuminating the foil wrappers.

Not wanting her to see them, he instinctively jumped between her and the car’s entrance.

She frowned at his interference, the corners of her delectable mouth pointing downward.

And he did what he’d wanted to do since he’d first danced with her at Tom and Jane’s wedding. He kissed her.

Catching the nape of her neck, he lowered his mouth toward her, not giving her a chance to protest, not allowing himself to second-guess his own action. For a moment, she didn’t move as his lips skimmed over hers, and he almost let her go, but then her lips parted and her tongue met his.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer, holding him prisoner as she drank her fill of him.

He couldn’t prevent the moan of satisfaction that echoed deep in his throat. This was
way
better than he’d imagined.

Suddenly, she jerked her head away, gasping for breath. He let his hand drop to his side, watching a potent mix of emotions flash across her face.

She turned away, presumably to regain a semblance of control.

He took advantage of the moment to brush the condoms off the seat and onto the floor.

He’d just straightened when she turned back to face him. He braced himself for whatever she was going to throw at him, but he wasn’t prepared for what she said.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the wedding,” she confessed.

He blinked. “Really?”

She let out a self-conscious laugh. “Yes. I’m guessing you did too.”

He nodded.

Choosing her next words carefully, she licked her lower lip, which caused every muscle in his body to tighten in response.

“Now that we’ve gotten it out of our system, we should focus on the job at hand.”

“Out of our system?” Pete practically squeaked incredulously.  She wasn’t out of his system. She’d taken up permanent residence in him, having invaded both his dreams and waking thoughts since they’d first met. And now that he’d kissed her, he couldn’t imagine ever getting enough of her.

She looked away. “It was a nice diversion, but”—”

“You want to get back to work,” he interrupted dryly. What he wanted to do was kiss her senseless, but since she seemed intent on focusing on business, that’s what he’d do. For now. “Fine. Get in the car.”

“The car?”

“You’re the one who said it was cold,” he reminded her.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She quickly plopped herself into the passenger seat.

Closing her door with a deliberate click, he took his time walking around to the driver’s side, making her wait, and giving himself a moment to get his wayward body under control. He had to play this smart, otherwise, he sensed, he’d never see her again after this job was over.

“There’s something on your floor,” she told him as he climbed behind the steering wheel. She bent to pick them up.

He did his best to sound matter-of-fact. “Condoms.”

She froze for a moment and then sat back in her seat, empty-handed.

She looked so uncomfortable; he had to swallow a laugh. Then he noticed her cheeks were flushed. He wasn’t sure if it was because of their kiss or her current embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pressing the back of his fingers to her reddened flesh.

“Please don’t,” she begged on a strangled whisper, staring straight ahead, as though she were afraid to look at him, frightened of what she might see in his eyes.

Grudgingly, he dropped his hand, but he didn’t stop studying her face.

She closed her eyes for a long moment and swallowed hard before she spoke again in a tightly controlled tone of voice. “Brady wanted me to watch over Mrs. M. because he thinks she’s in danger. I think the cat is just a distraction.”

“So do you want me to find out who would want to hurt Mrs. Michelman, or do you want me to discover who’d want to take the cat?”

“Can you try to do both?” She risked a sideways glance at him.

“For you,” Pete murmured, “I’ll try just about anything.”

He thought he heard a slight mewling sound as she jumped out of the car and fled to the relative safety of the house.

He made no move to follow her. For one thing, he didn’t think she’d respond well to being physically chased. For another, he had to call in reinforcements.

Alyssa stumbled through the door of the Michelman home on wobbly legs. What the hell had just happened?

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Pete had remained in his car. Thankful for small mercies, she sagged against the doorjamb, trying to catch her breath.

He’d kissed her.

Worse, she’d kissed him back.

Even worse, she wanted to kiss him again. Hell, she knew she wanted to do a lot more than that with him.

And if a floor littered with packages of condoms and the way he kissed her were any indication, he wouldn’t be opposed to the suggestion. Her entire body throbbed with the idea and she leaned against the wall for support.

The marble, cool against her skin, acted as a dose of cold water.

This wasn’t the time to be distracted. She had a job to do.

She rubbed her cheeks, trying to get rid of the heat she knew reddened them. She’d always been mortified at how easily she blushed, thinking it made her look more like a silly teenage girl than a capable grown woman, but Pete seemed to find it an endearing trait. When he’d stroked her face in the car, it had all of her self-control to rub herself against his hand like a cat demanding to be petted.

She wouldn’t have found him so attractive if he hadn’t convinced her that he respected her privacy. A man with due regard for boundaries and personal integrity had always been high on her list of ‘“must haves”‘ for a mate.

A mate? She shook her head, dismissing the foolish idea.

“She’s on the phone,” Roscoe said behind her, jolting her out of her wayward thoughts.

Turning to face him, she schooled her expression into one of cool indifference. It was the mask she wore most often, so it slipped into place easily. “Who’s she talking to?”

“Her banker. She’s raising the cash to pay the ransom.”

A strained note in his voice made her ask, “Something bothering you?”

“I don’t understand how they got the cat. The doors and windows were locked. The alarm was set. I was here the entire time.”

“It’s not your fault,” she hurried to assure him.

“That cop… the way she looked at me.” There was no mistaking the undertone of dueling fear and anger in his tone.

Alyssa frowned, remembering Brady had something about Roscoe being in some trouble a while back, but being a good guy. Now she wished she’d asked him to elaborate.

Had Alyssa made a mistake entrusting Mildred and Mr. Burberry to the big man’s care? It wasn’t like she hadn’t made mistakes before trusting the wrong people.

Pete walked through the front door, interrupting the conversation. “Hey.” Oblivious to the tension swirling in the enclosed space, he thrust a manila folder into her hands. “This is the easy list.”

“Easy list?” She flipped it open and skimmed the first piece of paper.

“People who’d want the cat.”

Silently, Roscoe marched away. She watched him go.

Flipping through the contents of the folder, she discovered Pete had printed out mini-dossiers on no less than four suspects. “That was fast.”

“I aim to please.”

She glanced up to determine whether his flip remark was supposed to have been laden with innuendo.

He raised his eyebrows in inquiry. Then, figuring out what she’d been looking for, he flashed a wolfish grin that made her go all melty inside.

Needing to focus on the task at hand, she looked away. “How’d you print this so fast?”

“I keep a printer in the car.”

She half-believed him since Mauricio had claimed that he was a cyber sleuth. “Really?”

“What do
you
use those USB plugs for?”

“My phone. My music.” She flipped through the pages. None of the faces looked familiar.

“And my printer.” He sounded annoyed.

“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

He didn’t respond.

She looked up, prepared to apologize if it would keep him helping her.

Amusement twinkled in his eyes and a smile stretched across his face.

Slapping the folder against her thigh, she groaned. “There’s no printer in your car, is there?”

He shook his head. “But I’ve got to say that I thought my whole USB thing was inspired.”

Shaking her head, she couldn’t contain a small grin. A man with a sense of humor was on her list too.

“I pulled that information together for you before I came over.”

“You do like to be prepared, don’t you?”

“Like I said, I aim to please.” This time he pitched his voice lower when he said it and there was no mistaking the flirtation. Then he grew serious. “It’ll take some more time to come up with a list of who might be after Mildred and I also want to see if I can figure out why they’ve asked for that amount of cash.”

Alyssa nodded. She too had found it strange that the catnappers were asking for $120,000. It seemed like an odd amount. “Maybe they know it’s how much cash the Michelmans have liquid.”

“Maybe. Or it could be a specific amount someone thinks is owed to them.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “While you’re doing your computer magic, could you run a check on Roscoe? Brady had mentioned something about him having had some trouble, but didn’t say what it was.”

“I don’t need my computer for that.”

“You don’t?”

Pete tilted his head. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Roscoe Underwood went to prison for killing his junkie sister’s boyfriend, a low-level drug dealer.”

A chill ran down her spine. What had Brady been thinking, entrusting Mrs. M.’s safety to someone with that kind of history? “Oh.”

“He didn’t do it. A couple of months later it was discovered he’d been framed and he was exonerated.”

“Oh.” Relief flooded through her. She hadn’t totally misjudged the big man.

Pete shook his head sadly. “But by then, he’d pretty much lost everything. His football career was over. His endorsement deals were gone. His friends had deserted him. Even the charities he’d been involved with wanted nothing to do with him. And he hadn’t done anything wrong. It’s really a sad, sad story.”

A painful lump rose in Alyssa’s throat. She knew too well what it was like to lose everything through a cruel twist of fate. She blinked back tears as her own sense of unfair loss enveloped her.

“Hey.” Seeing her distress he moved closer to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked down, not wanting him to witness her painful struggle.

But he was having none of it. Lifting her chin, gently forcing her to look at him, he murmured, “Talk to me.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him about her disillusion and loneliness.

But she wasn’t about to pass up the comfort he offered. Raising herself up on her tiptoes and using a hand to steady herself against his chest, she pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her softly. Sweetly. With feather-light pressure, he cupped her cheek with his palm, barely touching her as though he knew how fragile she was and didn’t want to risk her shattering.

From a distance, she heard Roscoe clear his throat uncomfortably.

Breaking the contact with Pete, she dropped back onto her heels, her hand falling away from his chest.

“She wants to see you,” Roscoe muttered, clearly embarrassed for having interrupted them.

“Be right there,” she replied, never looking away from Pete’s face. He looked as shocked as she felt.

“I’ve got to go.” Her voice, thin and reedy, didn’t even sound like her. Without waiting for a reply, she forced herself to turn away and march down the hall.

Pete watched her go, but made no move to follow.

Their first kiss, at the car, had been hot and passionate, as much about their sexual frustration with one another as attraction, but just now had been something all together different.

The mask the ice princess wore had slipped and he’d glimpsed the vulnerable woman hiding behind it.  His heart swelled, recalling how she’d let him closer instead of freezing him out.

His cell phone vibrated, interrupting the memory. A quick glance at the display showed it was Jackson calling. “Hey.”

“You find the missing cat yet?” The inquiry was delivered with a side order of teasing scorn.

“Actually, it’s being held for ransom.” While he spoke, Pete examined the framed photographs on a table in the foyer. Most were a few decades old and featured a much younger Mildred along with a man Pete assumed to be her husband. One of the pictures included a young boy of ten or so. In almost all of them, Mildred held a cat.

“For real?” Jackson asked incredulously.

“I kid you not.”

Jackson let out a low whistle. “Wow. Where do you guys find these girls?”

“What do you mean?”

“Brady’s pub-crawling across Ireland trying to help Amy find the dad who abandoned her and you’ve gotten roped into helping the ice princess find a ransomed cat. Why can’t you find women with normal problems?”

“Like the ones in your life?” Pete shot back, annoyed that Jackson referred to Alyssa as an ice princess.

“I have a no strings, no drama, rule.”