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Authors: Stella Barcelona

BOOK: Deceived
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Sebastian’s blue eyes scanned Brandon as he sipped the rum. “How did it go at the mansion?”

“Her father didn’t welcome me. She made it clear that when it comes to believing stories, she’ll go with her father’s version.” Brandon gave Sebastian a few details and told him about the drawings. “I slipped the roll of them under my suit jacket and walked out of the mansion. No one tried to stop me. I warned them,” he shrugged, “now I’m through.”

“With?”

“Her.”

“This afternoon you said that you were ready for a challenge,” Sebastian said.

Brandon’s heartbeat faltered as he remembered the near-euphoria that he’d felt after making love to Taylor, and before seeing her with her father. Then, he’d been confident that she was worth whatever obstacles might be in their path. “Well, I was wrong. I’m not fighting that battle.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “It’s been almost two hours since you texted me that you left the party. Where’d you go?”

“Checked on Michael,” Brandon said.

“Where else?”

Brandon paused. Sebastian would ultimately get an answer. His friend never rested until he did. “Then the cemetery, and then I drove past Taylor’s house to make sure there was security there.”

Brandon hated the worry that he saw in his friend’s eyes.

“How much time do you still spend at the cemetery?”

“Not that much. I go there to think.” Brandon knocked back the rest of the rum. He thought about pouring more, but he didn’t. He could drink the whole bottle and it wouldn’t make him feel any better. “I’m fine. Really. I never should have barged into that party, even with Joe.”

Brandon’s phone rang and Marvin’s voice started the moment he picked up. “Yo. What city office you said that need to get in?”

“Orleans Parish Office of Mortgages and Conveyances.”

Marvin was silent for a second. “What building is that in?”

“City Hall. Main Annex. It’s the third floor.”

“Dude. Why didn’t you just say you needed to get into City Hall?”

Brandon shook his head. “This office is under different lock and key.”

“So? Wouldn’t someone who works in janitorial services at City Hall have a key?”

Brandon’s pulse picked up. “Probably. You know someone like that?”

“I’m working on it. Everybody’s in different places with this damn July 4th holiday. I can’t find my regulars. I’ll get back with ya later.”

Brandon glanced at Sebastian. “Joe’s working on an entry into the office through official channels, but, given that it’s a holiday weekend, my money’s on Marvin.”

“To do a real estate transactional search,” Sebastian said, “you’re going to have to use multiple names.”

“I’d probably limit the search to aliases that are associated with bank accounts.”

“So far,” Sebastian said, “Ragno’s found six.”

Brandon made a mental note to call some of his lawyers and paralegals in the morning. Without an address, and with multiple names, the title search in the notoriously disorganized Orleans Parish records office was going to take more than one person a boatload of time. Brandon asked, “What have you discovered in the last two hours?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian said.

“Well, that’s great.”

“I’m sorry, but Victor’s off the grid. Totally. He’s using cash, or he’s using aliases that we don’t have. That car that he rented,” Sebastian shrugged, “is gone. Hasn’t shown up anywhere that we can see. So, if you’re thinking that you’re going to find your brother, I’d keep an eye on what you think he’s going to go after.”

Brandon nodded. “There’s HBW Security in her driveway. At least Taylor or her father had the sense to do that. Joe’s going to have cars drive by. After what I told them, I thought that she’d stay at her father’s house.” He shrugged. “I wasted my breath.”

“Does she at least have a really good alarm system?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in her house,” Brandon paused. “Aw
hell
.”

“What?”

Brandon stood, in a lightning flash forgetting his
through
with her
attitude. “We’ve got to get there. Her alarm was giving her problems.”

The drive to Taylor’s house took fewer than ten minutes. He and Sebastian took two cars. The agents went with them. Brandon parked down the street, with a side view of Taylor’s house. Sebastian parked behind him and walked towards Brandon’s car. Several lights were on, both downstairs and upstairs. Sebastian knocked on the driver’s side window of Brandon’s car. Brandon lowered it. Sebastian asked, “What are you waiting for?”

Brandon said, “I’m not going into her house.”

“You’re just going to sit here?”

“We had a fight. I walked out on her.”

“Well, call her. Otherwise, I’m walking up to the front door, knocking on it, and I’m going to have to explain why I need to check her alarm system, while you’re sitting in the car.”

Brandon dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring. “I’m outside of your house. I want Sebastian to check your alarm system. He’s an expert.”

“The alarm company was here yesterday.”

“Damn it, Taylor. Humor me.”

A minute later, Taylor opened the door, with her cell phone in her hand. She waved the HBW security guard away as he stepped out of his SUV. At least he stepped out to watch them approach her porch, even though he hadn’t thought to check on why five men had pulled up to Taylor’s house.
Hell.
These people had no fucking clue.

She wore a cream-colored robe that looked like softly spun silk. Her initials were monogram
med on the lapel in dove grey. The robe was tied at the waist, but the deep v-neck revealed a small amount of pink lace and more cleavage than he cared to see. Her hair was loose. She was barefoot. Her make-up was gone, revealing natural, soft beauty and a tired, nervous, and vulnerable expression in her eyes. His chest tightened as she introduced Brandon and Sebastian to Carolyn. Sebastian had Carolyn lead him to the alarm’s control panel, in another room. Taylor held Brandon’s gaze with one that was serious. She had no trace of a smile.

Brandon said, “I thought that you’d stay at your father’s tonight. It would be safer, at least until the police rule out foul play with Collette.”

“No,” she said, although her face became pale at the mention of Collette. “I’m more comfortable in my own home.”

They were in a staring match. He could break it by reaching for her. He ached to hold her, to comfort her. Hell, holding her would make him feel better. He couldn’t do it, though, because he didn’t want to risk the inevitable hurt that would come with caring for her. Call it cowardice. Whatever. He didn’t give a damn. He couldn’t handle falling for, and losing, another woman.

She broke the silence first. “You walked out on me.”

He swallowed. “I had to.”

“I’m angry.”

“So am I.”

Sebastian reentered the room and said, “There are echoes throughout the system.”

Taylor turned to Sebastian. “What does that mean?”

“Some of the contacts have been electronically disabled and they’re jumbled,” he shrugged, “so there’s no way right now to know which ones are working.”

“The system is supposed to beep if contacts are loose,” Taylor said, “and someone from the alarm company was here yesterday. He checked it.”

“This isn’t the same as loose contacts, like from wind hitting a window, or a door. Your alarm system is a computer, it has a virus, and evidently, the alarm company didn’t get past the false positives.” Sebastian explained. “Nothing would happen if someone entered at more than half of the entry points.”

“Can this happen randomly,” Taylor asked, “or did someone tamper with my system?’

Sebastian shot her a look of exasperation. “Lightning could cause this, but there’d be other evidence of lightning. Given our concerns about Victor, Lisa’s murder, and Collette’s death, I’d say a really good tampering job is a hundred percent more likely than lightning.” Sebastian paused. “Whoever did this is good. He could walk into your house, and you wouldn’t know it.”

The color drained from her face. “Can it be fixed?”

“Electronics need to be reconfigured before this thing is secure, and some rewiring is probably needed. In a house this size, it could take days, and then, the system isn’t that great to begin with. I’d recommend a new one.” He focused his attention on Taylor. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said.

“Look. I’m an expert in risk assessment and protection. I advise you to leave. Go somewhere more secure. A high-rise hotel, with one door into the room, and a few good guards, would be a hell of a lot safer than this place.”

“What’s the name of your firm?”

“Black Raven.”

Taylor looked at Brandon. “Is Sebastian as good at what he does as you are a lawyer?”

Brandon didn’t hesitate. “Better.”

Taylor turned to Sebastian. “You’re hired. Make me safe and my home secure. Do whatever it takes. Get the necessary personnel. Redo the alarm system. I presume that you have enough manpower to start now?”

“Tech personnel for the system can be here tomorrow, midday. I have three field agents here. I’ll need a retainer to get started.” Sebastian threw out a number that would have made most people cringe. “And that’s the friend-of-Brandon discounted figure.”

Taylor nodded. “That’s fine.”

“Once you hire Black Raven, Taylor, you have to do as they say for your safety,” Brandon said.

Taylor frowned as she glanced at Brandon. “This is between me and Sebastian.”

“No. I provide legal advice to the company. If you don’t agree to that term, I’ll advise Sebastian not to do business with you.”

She turned from Brandon and nodded to Sebastian. “Fine.” She dialed a number and told the security detail that was in her driveway that Black Raven would be providing additional security personnel.

“My men will stay the night. One inside, roaming the house. Two outside. They’ll assume their positions as soon as we make sure that no one is already in your house. The agents will work the perimeter, the attic, and any crawl spaces. Brandon, I’ll take downstairs.” Sebastian gave him a hard glance, one that told Brandon he was setting him up to deal with Taylor. “You take upstairs.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Brandon checked every upstairs room, window, closet and space. He ended at the room that he saw Taylor walk into, where the door was half open. He knocked as he pushed it open the rest of the way.

Bedside lamps and floor lamps gave the room soft light. She was sitting on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, with her feet pulled in close, under the hem of her robe. White bedding with satin trim was turned down. She was covered from shoulders to toes in her robe, but she still looked sexy as hell. Sexy, and worried and way too vulnerable. Her eyes followed his progress as he pushed drapes to the side and checked the room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, then shut the drapes. French doors, with a simple lock system that wouldn’t take much expertise to crack, led to a balcony. It was empty. He relocked the doors.

Her closet was huge. A red, halter-tied ball gown was on a mannequin that was shaped like Taylor. Matching red silk shoes with high, skinny heels were on a small shelf next to the dress. A black-velvet jewelry case on a table sparkled with diamond bracelets, rings, necklaces, and earrings. He walked out of the closet. “You need a better security system just for your damn jewels.”

“So that I understand what you were saying in my father’s library,” she said, “you may have feelings for me, but you’re worried that my father will come between us. You believe that I will choose my father over you, and you’re not even going to start down the road of having feelings for me, because you don’t want to fight a losing battle.”

Brandon shrugged. “That’s about it.”

Taylor lifted her chin. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn’t give in to crying. Instead, she drew a deep breath, and her voice didn’t waver as she said, “Most people in my life have been attracted to me because I am a Bartholomew. You, though, are using that as a way to not even get close.”

“I wouldn’t say that the problem is that you’re a Bartholomew. I’d say that the problem is,” he paused, “well, you’re acting like one.”

He needed to leave her bedroom. He had said enough. But he couldn’t make himself walk towards the open doorway that led out of her bedroom. He couldn’t even turn from her. Invisible tethers kept him from moving, even when his mind told him he had no business being there.

From the doorway, Sebastian said, “Taylor, my agents are in position. I’m headed back to the condo.”

“I’m headed out with you,” Brandon said.

Sebastian gave him a head shake. “Look, if I manage to figure anything out about Victor’s whereabouts, you’ll be the first to know. But really,” his friend’s blue eyes locked on him, “I don’t need the company.”

Sebastian turned and left, shutting the bedroom door behind him.
Damn it
. Once again, he was alone with Taylor.

“I’m not sure of myself, but,” she hesitated, and a slight twinge of pain in her voice yanked at his heart. She continued, “Is it too much to ask that for the moment you believe that I’ll ultimately do the right thing?”

“That isn’t how it works,” he said, turning from her, as she eased herself off of the bed and started walking to him. “People who don’t have faith in themselves rarely live up to the high expectations of others. That’s why low expectations suck. People usually meet them. They never realize their true potential. I don’t want to stick around and watch you do that.”

“Can we just focus on right now? Stay,” she said, “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

He wanted to say no, but she untied her robe and let it fall to the floor. A pink lace camisole was stretched over her breasts. It draped down her waist and stopped about three inches above her hips, where matching lace barely covered her. “Please stay for a while. This is casual,” she said. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His mind said
leave
, but every other molecule in his body said
stay
, because he could think of nothing else but how it had felt to be inside of her.

“Please,” she repeated.

He needed to go.
Hell
.

“Stay,” she said, “only a few minutes.”

He yanked her to him and opened his mouth onto the thin lace camisole, nibbling and tonguing her nipples through the fabric. He ripped off her camisole and panties. Lamplight revealed marks that their earlier lovemaking had left on her. The bruises and bite marks became primal, arousing evidence that he’d been there before. He knelt on the floor, opened his mouth to her sex, parting her folds with his tongue, tasting her, while breathing in her sweet, earthy essence. He slipped two fingers inside of her. She gripped his shoulders and moaned, softly, then held her hand to her mouth to keep her cries quiet. He tongued her until she whispered his name, then kept going, until she slid down him, to her knees, panting for breath. He gave her a soft push so that she fell onto her back, pushed her legs apart, then knelt between her legs.

He dragged his eyes from her damp, inviting sex and met her gaze as he undid his holster, placed it on her bedside table, took his switchblade out of his pocket, and placed it next to the pistol. He kicked off his shoes and unzipped his pants. She helped him push them down. He kicked them off then pulled her legs around him and up, until her knees were hooked in the crook of his elbows. He slid his full erection into her warm, tight channel with one strong stroke. She gasped and tensed, but didn’t ask him to stop. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Desperation for her drove his body, fueled by the certainty that there was never going to be another time that they’d be together, that he was having one last taste of something he could never again have. He plunged into her so hard that together, with each thrust, they slid across the soft carpet. Moist walls gripped him and natural, tight pulses deep inside of her made him lengthen and become harder, even after they’d been at it for so long that time seemed suspended and he had lost his breath. It took willpower, but he paused, and, in case he was misreading her moans and gasps, he asked, “Are you all right?”

Her chest was flushed. Her eyes held his in a sultry, pupils-dilated gaze. “Yes. Good God. Yes. Please,” she paused. “Don’t stop.”

“Tell me,” he said, plunging deep, “that you’ll never forget how I feel.”

“Never,” she sighed, as she lifted her hips to meet his. “Oh. Brandon. Never.”

His thrusts had pushed them to the wall. They used it to brace themselves. Her hands were stretched over her head, exposing her full, round, breasts and erect nipples. Her breasts bounced with each move, calling him. He shifted so that her knees were hooked over his shoulders. She was as open to him as she could be and it was such a goddamn turn-on that he still felt a hot, pulsing build-up of need, when he should have been spent. He closed his mouth on one nipple, then the other.

She whispered, “Never. Yes,” she said, “Don’t stop.” Her juices made his slide in and out of her a wet, hot, squeeze, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Her moans, sighs, and soft whispers kept him going, fast, hard, and deep. Finally, when she called his name, once, twice, three times, and her body shuddered with an intense orgasm, he exploded into her.

After, he lay on top of her, with most of his weight on his arms. His spine tingled and every muscle in his body was spent. She didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. He shifted his weight and lay on his side. She curled towards him, asleep.

After several long minutes, when she didn’t awaken, and he had regained some of his energy, he stood and pulled back the duvet and the top layer of covers and sheets on her bed. He lifted her and placed her there, then pulled the sheet to her shoulders. Taylor barely stirred.

His heart twisted with that sick feeling that came with wanting what he couldn’t have. Damn it. He needed to stay away from her.

He got dressed. He slipped on his shoes, then looked at her again before tying the laces.
Aww hell.
He had to tell her goodbye, but she was sleeping. In his world, sleep was sacred, and, after the last few days, Taylor deserved whatever relief came with a few minutes of good, hard sleep. He couldn’t wake her, but he also couldn’t simply have sex with her, then leave, without telling her goodbye, because this goodbye would be their last. He kicked off his shoes and got into bed with her. He sank into the bed and soft pillows, almost groaning with sudden exhaustion. She moved towards him, then pressed herself against him, and, with his arms around her, and her head on his shoulders, she breathed in and out in deep sleep. He felt himself drifting, gliding away from consciousness as he breathed with her. His last thought before crossing into slumber was that Taylor was pure, unexplainable magic.

***

Taylor’s phone beeped with a text. The sound pulled her out of her dreams. She flashed back to the raw need and power with which Brandon had made love to her. Then, as she became more fully awake, she thought of her father. She felt the dread that had formed at her belief that her father was lying, and at her now certain knowledge that Brandon would soon disappear from her life. Brandon wasn’t going to wait for her to find the courage to stand up to her father, and she didn’t blame him. Right now, though, his arms were around her, so at least he hadn’t taken the easy way out and disappeared while she was sleeping. Sometime during the night, he had dressed. When she looked up at him, in the soft lamplight that filled her room, jade-green eyes were focused on her.

She asked, “Did you sleep?”

“Yes,” he said, with a slight smile. He let go of her and stretched, then he reached for his phone and hers. “Amazing. I slept for almost three hours.” He frowned. “Do you often get texts at four thirty in the morning?”

She shook her head. Each text sent two signals, separated by a minute. The second buzz sounded as he handed her phone to her. Andi’s text read, “
I’m on the levee. One hundred yards downriver from the intersection of River Road and Cold Storage Road. Please come. Alone. Hurry.”

When she gasped, Brandon took the phone from her and read the text.

“Call her.”

Taylor did. There was no answer.

“Call the land line at the house in Florida where she’s staying.”

Taylor winced. “I don’t know the house number.”

“Call her father. Tell him what’s happening. This is a ploy to get you out of your house here,” he hesitated, “or maybe to get you to that part of town. She might still be in Water’s Edge.”

Taylor called Andrew, explained what was happening, and broke the connection so that Andrew could make phone calls. Brandon called Sebastian and agreed to meet Sebastian at Cold Storage Road. Taylor dressed, pulling on jeans, a bra, a tank top, and a long-sleeve t-shirt.

“The text says for me to go alone.”

“Like hell,” Brandon said. “You shouldn’t be going at all.”

“I have to go,” she said.

Out of habit, Taylor called her father. He answered on the second ring. She read Andi’s text to him, then told him that she had hired Black Raven. He wasn’t pleased, until she told him that her alarm system was not operating properly and that they were alarm experts. When she broke the connection with her father, Brandon said, “I’ll drive.”

“My father will have a fit when he sees us together.”

Brandon gave her a hard glance that told her that he didn’t give a damn what her father thought. “I’m not letting you walk into danger because of that.”

Taylor explained what was happening to the HBW security agent. Two Black Raven agents rode with them, in Brandon’s car, while one Black Raven agent and the HBW security agent stayed to monitor Taylor’s house.

“We need to call Joe,” Brandon said, once they were in his car.

“My father said if needed, he’ll alert the authorities,” she said. “He’ll arrive with Tom, the director of HBW Security.”


If
needed?” Brandon drew a deep breath, shook his head, and glared at her in a way that made her insides tremble. “I’m calling Joe. I really don’t give a damn what your father has to say about it.”

When Joe’s phone went to voice mail, Brandon left a message as he raced through dark downtown streets. “Call me. It’s urgent.”

He drove through the French Quarter and then the Marigny, and found the intersection of Cold Storage and River Roads on his car’s GPS system. Funky residential neighborhoods that were downriver from the French Quarter gave way to a commercial district of warehouses and wharves. The streets were dark and, given that it was a holiday weekend and a Sunday morning, empty.

“Cold Storage Road is about a mile from here,” Brandon said, his eyes on the rearview mirror as he flashed a
get ready
glance at the agents in the rear seat.

Taylor’s phone rang.

Andrew said, his voice shaky, “Security informs me that she’s not at Water’s Edge. Her car is still there, though, and the house is locked. There’s no sign of a struggle. It’s as though,” he gasped for air, “good God. It’s as though she simply disappeared.”

Taylor felt rising panic as she broke the connection with Andrew and reported what he said to Brandon.

“We’ll find her.” Brandon’s words were reassuring, but the expression on his face was grim as he called Sebastian and gave him the news. When he turned on River Road, the car’s lights shone on the red eyes of a river rat that looked to be about a foot long. It scurried across the road, then disappeared into shadows.

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