Hands On (16 page)

“We wait and hope Simone provides more infor
mation or is enough of a distraction to Bask that he slips up and does something stupid.”

“Speaking of distractions…” Cassie smiled and slid her hand up Dalton's shirt. His nipples beaded under her restless fingers.

“What about lunch?” He put a hand at her waist and toyed with the elastic of her shorts, dipping his fingers in to stroke her belly, withdrawing, and then dipping again, going lower each time.

She threw her leg across his thighs. He was already hard.

“Screw lunch,” she said and reached for his buckle.

Chuckling, he pulled down her shorts, taking her panties with them.

She barely managed to pull off his belt and unsnap his jeans before he got up on his knees, freed the shorts from around her ankles and cast them aside. He tugged up the hem of her blouse and she lifted herself enough for him to pull it over her head.

She laid back waiting for him to unsnap the front of her bra. Instead, he spread her thighs and moved in between her knees.

“Dalton?” She tensed, not understanding. Until he lowered his head and laved her with his tongue.

She grabbed two fistfuls of the quilt and held her breath. His tongue was hot and thorough, and she came so damn fast she didn't know what hit her.

 

H
E SHADED
his eyes and looked up at the stately white house. Lunchtime. Everyone would be in the dining room. He had the routine down by now.

No one would be more pleased than him when this
was over. He hated being outside in the hot sun most of the day. Good thing it wasn't the middle of summer. He would've begged off the assignment. Except he was perfect for the role, even he had to admit.

Damn stereotypes. Of course he'd end up with a major collar after this bust. Maybe even a promotion so he wasn't complaining…too much.

After making sure no one was around, he reached into his baggy pants' pocket and got out his cell phone. He hit speed dial, he sat on a lawn chair and uncapped a bottle of water while he waited. Before he could take a sip, his partner answered on the other end.

He took a quick sip anyway, and then said, “Tonight's the night. I'm sure.” He paused to let his partner voice his concerns. The guy was a worrier. Out in the field he sucked, but he did a damn good job of tracking details and organizing raids.

“Bask has no history of violence and I don't expect any trouble. But if we hit in the middle of the night everyone will be asleep and that'll keep things simple. Line up the guys for midnight.”

He gave Lenny a few more details and then hung up. Pushing off the chair, he mopped his sweaty forehead with a red bandana, and then grabbed the rake.

Yep, Sgt. Hamada was going to be damn glad when this bust was over.

C
ASSIE SAT ACROSS
Bask's desk and waited for him to get off the phone. When he'd received a call five minutes into their private session she'd hoped she'd be able to overhear something useful.

No luck. He listened mostly, giving a few yes and no answers occasionally. He kept his gaze on her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. It creeped her out and she looked around his room to avoid his eyes.

The last time she'd been in here she hadn't noticed the sparseness of the office décor. A couple of pictures hung on the walls similar to the generic kind that you'd find in a hotel room. Even the furniture looked as if it might have been rented. It wasn't bad quality, but something he wouldn't mind leaving in a hurry.

On the wall behind his desk hung a license to counsel and a certificate of excellence awarded to him by a university she'd never heard of, and which probably didn't exist.

When she finally brought her gaze back to him, he was still watching her intently. He smiled, and then put up a finger, indicating he'd be only a moment longer.

She smiled back, trying to figure out what she might
have thought of him if she didn't know what a scumbag he was. Most women found him good-looking, obviously, and she probably would have as well, even though she didn't particularly find fair men attractive.

His light blue eyes were almost hypnotic and his smile disarming. He had that special way of making a woman feel as if she were the only one in the room once he made eye contact with her. Cassie had seen Zelda melt into a puddle with him more than once, and it was really sad and annoying how she constantly seemed to seek his approval. Kathy wasn't too bad around him. Yet.

“I apologize for the interruption, Cassie,” Bask said, smiling, as he replaced the receiver. “Cassie—is that short for Cassandra?”

She nodded.

“A family name?”

“My grandmother's.”

“Cassandra is a beautiful name. Do you mind if I call you that?”

It was almost painful to smile but she managed. “I'd like that.”

“You're probably wondering why I asked to see you privately.”

That was news to her. She'd made the appointment with Mary Jane. “Actually, I asked to see you, as well.”

He lifted a brow. “Oh?”

She wished she'd kept her mouth shut and let him talk. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I wasn't happy with the way we left our last con
versation. I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you.”

“Not at all. I listened to your advice. Went back to massage class, and I still think my husband's the biggest buffoon this side of Dallas.” She sighed, and added, “I can't see trying anymore. I do have some of my own money from a trust fund. Plus the pre-nup I signed will take care of me quite well.”

Bask gave her a condescending smile. “Actually, I think you're wrong.”

“What?”

“You two not only have a great deal of chemistry but I sense you have a lot of trust in each other. And respect. Both very important in a relationship.”

“You've got to be kidding.”

“Be honest with yourself, Cassandra. You may not always like Dalton's behavior or share his chauvinistic ideas, but you know he's a good man and you can count on him.”

Cassie didn't respond. This was not good. Not good at all. What was she supposed to go back and tell Dalton? That they were perfect for each other? This was not good.

“You look upset,” Bask said, getting up from his chair and coming around the desk.

She braced herself. Maybe this was it—the big consolation move. He'd put his arms around her and tell her not to fret and how he'd…

He perched at a respectable distance on the edge of his desk and took her hands instead. “Cassandra, look
me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't care what happened to Dalton.”

“Of course I care. That isn't the point. I just don't want to live with him.” She tried to look convincing.

“All right, my fault, I phrased that wrong. How would you feel if you never saw him again after this week?”

She couldn't breathe for a moment and she squeezed his hands. Tight. Too tight. She let go while forcing herself to breathe. “I'm sure I'd still see him…”

“Because you couldn't bear not to.”

“No.” She didn't have to pretend this time.

“Cassandra?”

She wanted to push him away. Get up and run out of his office. She probably
wouldn't
see Dalton again. Maybe in court, if it came to that, but that would be the extent of any future association. He'd be off on another assignment in a matter of days.

The thought made her sick to her stomach.

Robert nudged her chin up. “Why are you resisting?” he asked, watching her closely. “You still want him.”

“I don't.” Damn, she was blowing it. “I mean, I do. Physically. We do great in that department.” She exhaled slowly. “But that isn't enough. I want more.”

“What is it you want, Cassandra?” He took her hands again and leaned closer.

His breath hit her cheek and she flinched. He backed off. The move was subtle, but she knew she'd blown it. If she wanted him to hit on her, she'd have to make the next overture.

Dammit.

“I'm sorry if I seem skittish,” she said quickly. “I didn't tell him I was meeting with you and he can have quite a temper.”

“Don't worry. He knows not to rock the boat while you two are here. This is his chance to save the marriage.” He smiled reassuringly. “I doubt he'll cause any trouble.”

She tried to look impressed. “I really wish he were more like you…rational, calm, even-tempered.”

“That's my job.” He held her gaze for a long unnerving moment. “What is it you want from me, Cassandra?”

“From you?”

He nodded, his eyes probing and hypnotic. “How can I help you?”

“Well, I don't know.” She stared back, rational thought deserting her. She didn't want to sound too suggestive or pushy, just needy. “I was hoping for some guidance or advice.” Sniffing, she looked away and dabbed at her eyes. They were as dry as a bone but he didn't know that. “Frankly, Robert, I don't know what to do.”

He reached for her hand again, and surprised her by urging her to her feet. She stood but he didn't move back to give her room. He took her face in his hands and asked, “Do you trust me?”

“I suppose,” she said, not wanting to sound too eager. Her heart pounded so hard it echoed in her ears. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.” He smiled and moved his head a fraction.

Hell, was he going to kiss her?

A sudden knock at the door stopped him cold.

He slackened his hold and drew back slightly, annoyance darkening his eyes. “Who is it?”

“Robert? It's Zelda.”

Panic flashed in his face. He quickly lowered his hands, but before he could retreat, the door opened.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Robert, but—” Zelda stopped when she saw Cassie. She blinked, and then looked at Bask, her eyes filled with confusion and betrayal.

“Zelda.” He hurried across the room and took her arm. “Come in, please.”

“I didn't mean to interrupt you,” she murmured, resisting his attempt to draw her inside.

“You haven't. Cassie needed some advice and now that I've given her something to ponder, we're actually finished.” He looked at Cassie for confirmation.

She shrugged, trying to think fast. Trying not to be swayed by the devastation on Zelda's face. “Yes, you've been helpful. I think Dalton and I—” She broke off and stepped away from the desk. “Anyway, I'll think about what you said and we can talk later.”

Still looking uncomfortable, Zelda let Bask lead her toward the couch.

“Well, isn't this cozy?”

Simone's voice, slurred and caustic, drew everyone's attention. She stood at the door, a drink in her hand, her hair and makeup-smeared face a mess.

Cassie's gaze shot to Bask. His face was a mask of panic and anger.

“Later, Simone,” he said sternly. “We'll talk later.”

“Sure, honey.” She drained the amber contents in her glass. “We always have to talk later. I'm always last in line.” She advanced into the room. “Guess what, lover, I'm tired of it.”

“Simone.” Bask started toward her, but then glanced at Cassie. “We'll talk again tomorrow afternoon,” he said in a tone that implied he wanted her to leave.

Cassie tried to smile. This was
perfect.
Simone looked angry and upset enough to spill her guts. And with Zelda as a witness. Perfect. An idea struck her suddenly.

“Let go of my arm, Robert.” Simone jerked away from him.

“I can come back tomorrow, as well,” Zelda said, and scurried around Cassie.

“That's an excellent idea,” Bask said, his furious gaze fastened to Simone. “Good night, ladies.”

“Wait,” Cassie said loudly. Everyone looked at her. She wished she knew what to say. “You aren't leaving for Rio tomorrow, are you? Or is that next week?”

“Rio?” Simone snapped her gaze back to him. “You son of a bitch.”

“I don't know what she's talking about,” Robert said calmly, but he couldn't conceal the panic in his eyes, the desperate way he tried to tug Simone farther into the room.

“Please, ladies, you need to leave.”

“Robert?” Zelda looked confused and frightened.
“When are you going to Rio? You said we'd…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze travelled to Simone and then Cassie.

“Obviously this is a misunderstanding. I'm not going to Rio tomorrow or any other day.” His murderous glare dared Cassie to contradict him. But there was fear in his eyes as well, a desperation that made Cassie uneasy. “I have no idea where you got that information, Cassandra.”

“It all makes sense now.” Simone shook her head, looking dazed. “You're leaving me and going to Rio. You ungrateful bastard.” She tried to take a swing at him, but Bask caught her arm.

He jerked her hard. “Simone, you're making a big mistake.”

“My mistake was marrying you, you greedy bastard. Ouch! Let go of me.”

Zelda gasped. “Robert, what is she talking about?”

Cassie stepped in to help free Simone from his clearly painful grip of her arm. “I suggest you let her go before I call Dalton to convince you.”

Something sparked in Bask's eyes, something far more alarming than fear or panic as his gaze bore into Cassie. “Who are you?”

“Let the lady go.”

Dalton stood in the doorway, his voice low and threatening, his expression almost predatory.

Bask pushed Simone away and made a dash for his desk.

Oh, God. For a gun? Cassie lunged after him. She
vaguely heard Dalton yell for her to get out of the way, and then a loud crash startled everyone.

Seconds later three men with guns burst through the door. One of them was the gardener. A badge hung from around his neck. He held it up to Bask. “Robert Bask, you're under arrest for embezzlement and fraud.”

 

“U
NBELIEVABLE
.” Dalton used a pithy four-letter word he'd never used in front of her before. He threw his shirts, unfolded, into his suitcase. “I blew it. I friggin' blew it. Higgins is going to love this.”

Cassie quietly folded her own clothes and laid them on the bed between their suitcases. She hadn't said much. Anger radiated from him like heat from a volcano. None of it directed at her, but she hated seeing him beat himself up like he had for the past twenty minutes.

“Shit, I bet Higgins already knows.” He stopped throwing in clothes and stared blankly at the open suitcase, his expression growing angrier. “The son of a bitch had to know Bunko was working on the case.”

“Then why would he assign you?”

“I'd just wrapped up a case. I was free and had the resources….”

“Do you cross departmental lines like this often?”

“We try not to. Anyway, this was about penance.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, and wasn't sure she wanted to ask right now as she watched him clench his jaw, shake his head in self-disgust.

“Dalton.” She laid a hand on his arm.

He shook her off. “Don't patronize me, okay?”

She drew back. “Since when am I the enemy?”

“You're not.” He exhaled sharply and scrubbed at his face. “I'm sorry. This has nothing to do with you.”

Cassie retreated, both physically and emotionally. His remark shouldn't have stung, but it did. He didn't owe her any explanation just because they'd made love. She knew the score. Sex had been a perk while they investigated Bask. But now that was over.

She turned back to her suitcase and started packing the clothes she'd folded, trying to shake the melancholy crawling over her.

“Hey, I really am sorry.” Dalton tried to get her attention but she wouldn't look up. She didn't trust herself to meet his gaze. “You're the one who figured out about Simone,” he said. “Got information out of Zelda. Shit, if Hamada hadn't come in when he had, Simone would have been singing like a canary and Bask would be wearing
my
handcuffs right now.”

A surge of pleasure loosened her tension and she slanted him a look. He sure didn't seem any less tense. The self-recrimination in his eyes chilled her.

“I'm the one who screwed up,” he said, grabbing a pair of jeans and slamming them into his suitcase. “A nothing case like this and I screw up. Unbelievable.”

She stiffened. “I wouldn't call it a nothing case.”

“Right. A friggin' first-year academy cadet could have wrapped this fluff case up in two days.”

Hurt and angry, she looked away, struggling for restraint.

Nothing case?
No wonder she'd done such a good job. Screw him.

“Cassie?”