Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (18 page)

…

Emma shut the door behind Joey and returned to Cole.

“We need to clean this up.” He stared at the mess on the floor.

“Joey is going to send housekeeping up.” When Cole said nothing, she sipped her coffee, considering the best approach. He’d had a rough couple of days. “Drink.”

He looked up, and she patted his shoulder. “Drink the coffee. You’ll feel better.”

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of housekeeping. They watched in silence as the two women cleaned. After handing them each a sizable tip, she again locked the door.

She slipped onto the stool next to Cole and selected a delectable-looking apple pastry. Cupping the mug in his hands, he sipped the strong coffee. A deep sigh accompanied his drink. He finished the pain au chocolate in five bites.

Thank God. If his appetite was normal then he was headed in the right direction.

He wiped his hand on his napkin, and then captured one of hers. “This is what…our fourth date?”

She wrinkled her brow.

“You know picnic on the boat, fish dinner at the café, a bite to eat on the way to the airport, Thanksgiving.” He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand. “Does Thanksgiving count?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Oh, and the meal on our first night in the hotel, although, I guess we didn’t actually eat at the same time, and now pastries and sandwiches.”

“Seven special meals, one race for our lives, a couple of fights, make up sex.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Not a bad courtship for a week.”

The bite of pastry in her mouth felt suddenly dry. Where was this monologue headed?

“What I’m trying to say is this: I haven’t known you very long, but Emma Bailey, I…” he set his coffee cup down. He ran his hand along the rough whiskers of his jaw. “I’m sure this isn’t the best time to say this. Hell, I’m hung over and drugged, and I keep having little flashes of being angry with you for no reasonable reason.”

Her eyes widened. She forced her food down with a drink of coffee.

“The thing is…you’re the one.” He smiled, apparently satisfied with his announcement.

She, however, was less thrilled. Especially when he glared at her continued silence. Glared!

“I’m the one?” she queried.

He nodded.

“The one what? The one who makes you crazy?”

He nodded again.

“The one who’s too impulsive?”

Another nod.

“The one…”

Emma’s words stopped short as Cole lunged from his seat to place a fierce kiss on her lips. His lips lingered, tasting of chocolate and coffee and very faintly of mint toothpaste. The kiss softened, and his tongue teased the seam of her lips, begging entrance. Her arms began a slow journey toward his neck, testing muscles along the way. Shivers of delight shot through her when his tongue slipped inside to dance with hers.

He pulled back, leaving a chill where before there’d been warmth.

“Cole?”

At the sound of her soft question, his blue eyes darkened. “You’re the one I want to be with. The one I love.”

She stared, dumbfounded. He loved her? She swallowed. Could she trust his words? After all, the man was still fighting the effects of God knew what combination of drugs and alcohol.

He nodded. “Please remember this over the next hours and maybe even days, because, that drug has turned me into a damned boomerang—one minute I think you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and the next, I expect you to stab me in the back.”

He plopped back on his stool, took another drink of coffee and a huge bite of chicken sandwich. All the while, his eyes never left her. He didn’t seem to expect a response, so she shoved a bite of apple pastry in her mouth and chewed.

…

Early the next morning, Cole awoke before Emma and lay there, listening to the sound of her breathing. In this moment at least, she felt good—right—lying next to him.

It had taken three cups of coffee, a late night stroll through the city, and then four more hours of sleep, but at last, his head was clear. No more roller coaster emotions or bursts of inanity—or insanity. Unfortunately, clarity failed to erase the sporadic, less than charitable thoughts about this woman to whom he’d recently declared his love.

The woman who’d had nothing to say in return.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Cole?”

He looked up from his coffee to see Emma emerge from the bedroom, fresh from the shower. With her damp hair pulled back from her face and wearing only a hint of makeup, she was beautiful. Her clear brown eyes shone with intelligence, the wisps of silky, brown hair that had begun to dry caught the early morning light, reflecting shimmers of gold. In her blue jeans and a deep purple turtleneck, she exuded an enticing combination of girl next door and sexy as hell.

She was the one.

A flicker of doubt danced around the edges of his certainty.
If she could be trusted.

“Cole.” Her question transformed into a command, rudely interrupting his internal debate. “You keep having…” She paused, tapping her bare foot impatiently on the floor, reluctant to continue. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to say anything, she spit out her thought. “You keep having negative thoughts about me, don’t you?”

Damn, he’d been trying to hide the occasional spurts of anger and frustration he felt toward her. Emotionally, he felt so justified in his feelings, but intellectually, he knew Cherise had messed with his mind. Sighing, he rose from his chair to run his finger along the side of her face before letting his hand drop.

“I’m sorry.” Even as the words escaped his mouth, he knew they were insufficient.

She rummaged through her purse. “Ah ha.” Grabbing his arm, she slipped a green rubber band over his hand and settled it on his wrist. “Here. This should help. A perfect fit.”

He looked at her and raised his brow. “Uh, thanks for the pretty bracelet?”

She punched him lightly on the arm. “Come on, Cole. This is negative reinforcement for when those mean, completely unearned thoughts about me haunt you.” She grabbed the rubber band and pulled it away from his wrist, letting it go with a snap.

“Ouch!” He rubbed the offended skin. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused.

She laughed sadly. “Not really. Actually, I was picturing Cherise’s head when I snapped the band, which probably wasn’t fair. Forgive me?”

“Humph. Only if you kiss it and make it better.” He offered his hand to her.

She offered her mysterious smile and raised his wrist to her mouth. Brushing the rubber band aside, she placed a soft kiss on the red mark. Her tongue peeked out to soothe the offended skin.

He jerked. She tucked her finger inside the rubber band and twisted, pulling him with her toward the bedroom.

“Uh, Emma.” Somehow it didn’t seem right to make love with her again while still harboring these negative thoughts.

“Yes, Cole?” She batted her eyelashes.

The woman was hard to resist. Impossible really. And if she could overlook his fleeting rude thoughts about her, well, who really benefitted if he took the high road? In fact, it was selfish of him to hold back. Wasn’t it? He shook his head to clear it. Used to processing information quickly, this laborious, mental back and forth gave him a monster headache.

“No?” A wrinkle marred Emma’s lovely brow. She let go of the rubber band.

“No?” He repeated her question, confused.

“You shook your head.” She peered at him, waiting.

Great, she was using speech for the slow witted again. He thought he saw a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“No.” He clarified.

“No?” A laugh escaped her lips. “Is this like the ‘what’ debacle from our night on James Island, when every time I opened my mouth you and the fates conspired to keep me confused?”

He grinned. He stepped close to her, invading her personal space. “Yes,” he whispered a fraction of an inch from her lips.

His phone rang. Damn.

He brushed a quick kiss across her lips and checked his phone.

“It’s Joey.” Reluctantly, he answered the call. He captured Emma’s hand with his free one as he listened. “Uh huh. Okay. I’ll tell her.” He ended the call. He considered the implications, relieved that on this topic at least, his brain appeared to be functioning just fine.

“What did he say?”

Cole looked down into Emma’s concerned face.

“The liquid Cherise poured into the scotch is a highly complex, very powerful drug that aids in hypnosis.” Although they’d suspected this, he exhaled with a sense of relief that there was a substantiated explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior.

“How did they identify the drug so quickly?”

Adrenaline shot through him. Her question took them to the heart of the puzzle.

“The drug is similar to one invented by Grant’s father. A powerful drug Alistair sold at great profit.” He spoke with precision, emphasizing each word as he reveled in the sense of satisfaction that comes when the pieces finally fall into place. “It’s not an exact match, but the differences could be the result of a next generation version.”

Emma bit the inside of her lip. “So Cherise was programming you to find fault with me.”

He nodded. “And setting herself up as the sympathetic listener I could confide in.”

“Using Alistair’s drug.”

Their eyes locked. They finally had a clear and current link to Alistair.

…

Cole spent the next half hour on the phone with Zach and Joey.

Emma stood at the window in the hotel bedroom, her attention drifting to the bustling street below. What trials and tribulations were those people experiencing? She didn’t mean to be all
poor me
, but she was pretty sure none of them were facing the kind of danger she and Cole faced. Feared the kind of pain that accompanied difficult choices.

It seemed obvious to her that the link between Cherise and Alistair belied the link Cherise had implied existed between Alistair and Jacob. Unfortunately, Cole didn’t share her certainty.

She couldn’t escape the fear that somehow Jacob would rip her and Cole apart. Because nothing,
nothing
would tear her from her brother.

Emma shook her head. Better to focus on the present. In the present, the man she was crazy about had said he loved her while kind of under the influence of alcohol and drugs.

He hadn’t repeated the words.

She looked out the bedroom door to where Cole sat, engrossed in conversation. He practically hummed with intensity as he plotted with Zach and his men to bring Alistair down.

It bothered Emma to see the red marks on his wrist, indicating how often unpleasant thoughts of her went through his mind. She’d tried to take it off him, tried to explain it was a joke, but he wouldn’t let her remove it.

As she watched, he pulled the rubber band taut and let it fly against his skin.

When he hung up the phone, Emma joined him. He mapped out the plan, and five minutes later, annoyed with Cole for still wearing the damned rubber band, she gathered her bag and coat and headed out to do her part. As she grasped the knob, his hand caressed her waist, pulling her back. She flung her arms around his neck and whispered against his lips, “Take the band off before I get back. Please.”

“Be careful.” He stepped back, clearly reluctant to let her go, and opened the door, revealing Joey in the hall. Joey reached past Emma to hand Cole a bag.

There’d be time for kissing later. Right now, they all had work to do.

…

Cole disconnected his call and toyed with the band on his wrist. Occasionally, he popped it just because of all the unfair things he’d thought and said since his all night drinking session with Cherise. Emma had tried to get the band off his wrist earlier, but he’d insisted on wearing it despite her protests.

Anger at himself rose as he considered how skillfully Cherise had trapped him. He’d intended to ply her with wine, foster an artificial bond, see if she might let information slip or better yet, confide in him. Instead, she’d drugged him and he hadn’t even realized it.

Thank God for Emma. She’d seen past a plan to build a bigger wall between them and raced to his rescue, regardless of their differences. She
knew
him, which made it harder for him to accept that she didn’t fully trust him where Jacob was concerned.

Hopefully, they’d soon figure out why someone, presumably Alistair, wanted them apart. Even better, this knowledge might lead them to the old man.

He checked his watch. She’d been gone for over thirty minutes. Despite the plan they’d put in motion, he had trouble concentrating on the mission. He missed his woman.

Dark thoughts crept in. She likely didn’t miss him at all as she focused every bit of her energy and emotion on Jacob.

Snap! He hit himself with the rubber band again. Good thing she couldn’t see him, because she’d be upset he was still wearing it.

Another minute passed, then another. A knock sounded at the door. He looked at his watch. Not bad. Cherise had only called fifteen minutes ago. He rose from the chair to let her in, sucking in a great breath of air before he opened the door.

“Hello, Cherise.”

“Cole, darling.” Cherise placed her palms on either side of his face and rose to kiss his cheeks, lingering, he was certain, so that he could smell her perfume.

He discreetly held his breath and rested his hands at her waist. Her skin-tight, low cut, midnight blue shirt deepened the color of her eyes. Her skinny jeans showed every curve to advantage. A pale blue short coat with a mink collar completed her ensemble.

A clunky, unattractive ring clashed with her otherwise sophisticated appearance. The same ring, he thought, that she’d worn when she’d visited his room in New York, and again when she’d visited him here.

Leaving her hands on his face, she stepped back an infinitesimal amount, ensuring her breasts hovered near his chest and peeked around him. “Is Emma still here?” Tiny lines of tension marked the skin around her eyes.

“No, she went out to do some shopping.” He smiled, taking a cautious breath. A hint of heavy floral remained, so faint her subtle perfume almost surpassed it. He winked. “Your timing is perfect. Come on in.”

She dropped her hands and slipped past him, brushing her body against his. “I wish you’d let me bring you some food. I know the most spectacular sushi restaurant.”

“I really don’t have much of an appetite, which is odd, because I’m almost always hungry.” Memories of Emma teasing him about his appetite engulfed him.

“I could fix you a drink.” She ran her finger along his forearm, drawing his attention back to her.

“That would be great. Thanks.” He watched as Cherise sauntered to the wet bar. With her back to him, she poured his scotch. He sank into the leather chair and crossed one leg lazily over the other. Amazing how even knowing she was playing him, he found her…enticing. The damned drugs were powerful. As Emma had noted, Cherise was not his type.

When she returned, she frowned. “Why Cole, what happened to that beautiful table?”

He grunted. “I broke it. I was angry at Emma and kind of, well, smashed the table. I had the hotel come and take it away.” He gestured toward the potted palm they’d moved from the corner of the room to the space next to Cole’s chair. “The hotel couldn’t replace the table immediately. Emma made me move this plant over here so”—he made air quotes—“‘the sitting area didn’t look so empty.’” Emma would have applauded his imitation of her being bossy.

Cherise handed Cole his drink. Ignoring the sofa, she grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it so close her knees rested against his leg.

Cole paused with the drink at his lips. “Why don’t you get yourself one, too?” He uncrossed his leg, shifting so they no longer touched, and started to rise. “Or I could get it for you.”

“No, no, I’m happy to get my own drink. You’ve had a rough twenty-four hours.” She placed a manicured hand against his chest and shoved playfully, pushing him back before walking to the wet bar.

While her back was turned, Cole poured part of his drink into the potted plant. Then he held the glass to his lips, cradled within cupped hands. When Cherise returned, she nodded approvingly, lifting her own glass in silent toast. He smiled over the rim of his and pretended to drink. One hand fell from the glass to reveal the liquor half gone.

“My goodness, you needed that.” She rested one hand on his shoulder and caressed his muscles, her fingers lingering as they withdrew.

“Ahh,” He pretended to savor the scotch. “I did need that.”

She resumed her perch on the end of her chair, her knees once again touching his. “Cole, I’m sorry about Emma. I can understand her helping Jacob, no matter what. Even if she has to betray you. Even if it means putting those sweet children in danger.”

Sweet children?
He struggled to remember their conversation from the night before. Had he mentioned Sam and Daniel? The details of their early morning chat eluded him.

She stroked his arm. “But I’m here for you, Cole. You can trust me. I would never betray you for Jacob.” Her hand slipped to his thigh, her voice continuing in a soothing cadence that, even though he hadn’t taken a drink, drew from him a false sense of betrayal. “I would never sleep with Grant. That pretty boy!” She wrinkled her nose.

The door to the hotel room burst open, and Emma sailed in.

“Cherise?” Emma dropped her bag to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“Now, Emma, dear, Cole and I are just talking.” Cherise rose and bent to bestow a kiss on Cole’s cheek, providing a generous view of cleavage. “You take care, Cole. I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Emma opened the door with a flourish, tapping her foot impatiently. “Out.”

Cherise’s smile widened. “Bye, bye.” She wiggled her fingers at Emma as she swept through the door. Emma slammed it behind her.

…

Ugh, she hated that woman. She threw the lock on the door and turned to find Cole had already brought the tracking device from the bedroom.

He turned it on and the sounds of the street played clearly in the hotel room.

“Good day, mademoiselle,” a man’s flirtatious voice called.

Cherise said nothing. A moment later, however, her voice came through clearly. “It’s done. Yes, he drank it. Yes, things are bad between them.”

For a moment, all they heard was the street.

“Damn, we can’t hear the other side of the conversation.” Cole snapped the rubber band.