Sweet Talk (15 page)

He lifted her coat from the rack and held it out for her. “What happens when you forget it?”

“My inhaler?”

She put her coat on and turned toward him. Grayson took her scarf and wrapped it around her neck, gently lifting her hair out of the way. They stood inches apart.

“Yes, your inhaler,” he said. “What happens when you forget it?”

She stared into his eyes. “I get into trouble.”

“Olivia?”

She jumped. One of Mr. Thurman’s assistants, a sweet, older woman named Violet, stood in the hallway. “Mr. Thurman wanted me to tell you that the team is on their way to Nutrawonder and will wait in their cars until you give them the word.”

“Thank you, Violet.”

The assistant took a step closer to Olivia. She glanced at Grayson, smiled, and then said, “I hear Billy Hood is a nasty piece of goods, if you know what I mean. Would you like to borrow my pepper spray?”

She smiled. “No thanks. I’ve got something better.” She tilted her head toward Grayson as she walked past Violet. “I’ve got him.”

SIXTEEN

B
illy Hood was indeed a nasty piece of goods, though, after meeting him, Grayson had a few more succinct words to describe the bastard.

Nutrawonder’s offices were located outside the city and just a mile off the interstate in a run-down industrial area. The building was old and in need of paint. The linoleum floors were cracked and split, and the desks of the employees were crammed together. It was around sixty degrees inside, and Grayson noticed that some of the men and women were wearing their coats as they worked at their computers.

Hood’s office was upstairs. Unlike the sterile first floor, the second floor had been remodeled. There was a garish neon-blue carpet, new furniture, and dark paneled wood in the reception area. The temperature was much more pleasant.

The woman sitting behind the desk was wearing enough makeup to spackle an entire wall. She had a fashion magazine open in front of her and was casually turning the pages with unnaturally long, curved, polished nails, completely ignoring Olivia and Grayson.

“We close in five minutes,” she said, without looking up. “Besides, Mr. Hood isn’t available. He’s on the phone in his office, but he isn’t available to anyone. You’ll have to make an appointment. Mr. Hood doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.” She finally raised her head. “Do you want to leave your name or your card . . . or something?” she asked. She was staring at Grayson while she twirled a strand of hair in her fingers. “Or your phone number?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. She glanced at Grayson to see how he was reacting to Miss Spackle. He didn’t seem affected. He was probably used to getting hit on, she supposed, and for some reason that irked her. She walked past the receptionist, opened the door to Hood’s office, and went in. The receptionist didn’t notice until Grayson followed Olivia.

“Hey, Billy isn’t available,” she called out. “I mean Mr. Hood isn’t available.”

Grayson stopped in the doorway. “You can go home now,” he told her as he was pulling the door closed.

Hood was talking on his cell phone. Grayson spotted a suitcase behind the door.

“Just make sure you bring your passport, Lorraine. I’ll meet you at the airport.” He looked up from his conversation and saw Olivia and Grayson standing there. “Hold on a second.” He pointed to the door. “I’m talking on the phone,” he snapped. “Get out of my office.” He looked at Olivia, lingering on her legs, and said, “I guess you could stay, darling.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m not your darling. Now get off the phone.”

Hood was an unpleasant-looking man. There were deep wrinkles in his forehead and above his cheekbones. Olivia attributed them to scowling most of his life. His beady eyes were a little too close together and his jowls hung low like a bulldog’s. She knew he was married, and she wondered if his children looked like him—God forbid—or like their mother. She pushed the silly thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.

Hood ended the call and slipped the cell phone into his pocket.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Olivia gave him a friendly smile. “Where are you going, Mr. Hood, if you don’t mind my curiosity? I noticed the suitcase, and I did happen to overhear you telling Lorraine not to forget her passport.”

“California,” he answered. “Napa.”

“Lorraine doesn’t have a driver’s license to show at the airport?” she asked in her most pleasant, noncombative voice.

“Of course, she has a driver’s license.”

She tilted her head and looked puzzled. “You are aware that California is still part of the United States.”

“Maybe I don’t want to tell you where I’m going. Did you ever think of that? For all I know you could be . . .”

“What?” Grayson asked.

Olivia stood on one side of the desk, and Grayson was on the other, looming over him. Hood swiveled his neck and blurted, “Spies.”

Olivia looked at Grayson with mock surprise. “Mr. Hood appears to be a little paranoid. Perhaps it’s because Lorraine isn’t his wife.”

“Ah.”

“My personal life is none of your business.”

She nodded. “You’re right—” she said as she pulled the legal papers out of her envelope.

She was about to tell him that his finances were definitely her business when he interrupted. “You’re working for my wife, aren’t you? You’re spying for her. How dare she not trust me.” He pointed to the door again, and just as Olivia was about to explain who she was and why she was there, he started cursing her. “Get out of my office, you blood-sucking bitch.” He added several more gross names before he took a breath.

Olivia pretended to be both shocked and thrilled. Her hand flew to her throat, and she gasped. She sounded excited when she said, “I didn’t know we got to use dirty words, Mr. Hood. Let me have a turn.” She dropped the papers on his desk in front of him, placed her card with the bold IRS letters visible, leaned in, and said, “Prison.”

Grayson listened to the conversation with great amusement. Olivia’s handling of Hood was truly impressive. He had seen many sides of her since they’d met. He knew she was loving and gentle. He had seen that side when they’d rescued Tyler from the drug dealers. He had witnessed her steely determination when she stood up to George. He definitely had seen her passionate side with her uninhibited lovemaking. And today, he was getting a glimpse at her wicked sense of humor, a side he thoroughly appreciated.

Hood, on the other hand, wasn’t amused. “Go ahead. Do another audit. You won’t find anything. I’m still leaving on vacation. I’m going to—”

“California?” she asked, helping him remember the lie he’d just told.

“Yes, bitch, California.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to put that trip off for a while.”

He tried to grab her arm. Grayson put a death grip on his shoulder. “Don’t touch her unless you want to get hurt. You don’t want to get hurt, do you, Billy?”

Hood glared at Grayson before turning to Olivia again. “Lorraine’s going to be pissed,” he muttered. “How long do I have to postpone my trip?”

“Ten to twenty with good behavior would be my guess.”

Olivia texted the leader of the audit team, but there wasn’t any need. They were already in the building.

Since Grayson was watching Olivia, Hood made the mistake of assuming that he wasn’t paying any attention to him. He slowly reached into his desk drawer.

Grayson slammed the drawer shut, and Hood howled in pain. His fingers were trapped, and Grayson wasn’t letting him pull them out.

“Now, see, Billy,” Grayson said, his tone mild. “That has to hurt.”

“You broke my fingers,” he screamed. “You broke my fingers.”

Olivia was surprised by Grayson’s actions but didn’t comment. A moment later she understood the reason behind the brute force.

“Let’s see what you keep in your drawer,” Grayson said.

“That’s private property. You have no right . . .” He stopped protesting when Grayson produced a handgun. “I have no idea how that got there.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s not loaded.”

“Oh?” Grayson pointed the barrel at Hood. “Then if I pull the trigger . . .”

“Don’t!” he shouted. “Okay, okay, it’s loaded. It’s for protection in case someone tries to rob me. I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. I’m telling you I didn’t even remember the gun was in my drawer.”

Olivia and Grayson were through talking to him, but it took another twenty minutes before they were able to leave Nutrawonder. After refusing to cooperate, Hood was led out in handcuffs, shouting that he’d been set up and a lawyer would prove his innocence.

Once Grayson and Olivia were back in the car, he asked, “Did you know the gun was there?”

“I had a suspicion.”

“Then you noticed him reaching for the drawer.”

“No, I noticed you noticing him reaching for the drawer.”

Olivia saw the muscle in his cheek flex as he clenched his jaw.

“I wouldn’t have gone into the office alone,” she said. “There would have been at least one armed agent with me. When I’m alone, I’m more observant, and, yes, I know I should always be observant, so stop the scowl.”

“You’re right. You should always be more observant. You take risks, Olivia. Dangerous risks.”

“I beg to differ. I don’t normally go into situations like the one today. I was doing a favor for a colleague.”

“Did he warn you about Hood?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Olivia, you need to be more careful.”

“I was being careful.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.”

“What tone?”

“You’re snapping at me.”

She looked disgruntled. For some reason her expression eased some of his anger away.

“I care about you,” he said quietly.

She didn’t acknowledge his statement for a long while, and Grayson didn’t pressure her. He had just parked the car when she whispered, “I care about you, too. If I didn’t care, I never would have . . .”

“Let me touch you?”

“I was going to say I never would have touched you.”

She rushed to move the subject away from sex because, from the moment she’d seen him, she’d wanted to rip his clothes off and have wild, arrest-able sex.

“Your job is more dangerous than mine,” she said. “I don’t have a bulletproof vest in the trunk of my car, and I don’t carry a gun.”

“Do you worry about me?”

She didn’t answer because they had just arrived at her apartment building. Grayson followed her upstairs. When he got a whiff of her perfume, he instantly reacted. Her scent had the power to drive him crazy. It was so damned sexy.

He hung up her coat and then his. His suit jacket followed. Olivia went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to search for something she could munch on. She wasn’t really hungry yet; she was feeling the tension of having Grayson in her apartment again. She decided on a Jell-O cup. It had zero calories, and it would keep her hands and her mouth busy. She pulled out a spoon and turned around to finally answer him. She knew he wasn’t going to let it go.

He stood in the doorway, waiting. She pointed the spoon at him and said, “Yes, I worry about you, but I don’t want to. Besides, what’s the point? Worrying is wasted energy. What will happen will happen no matter if I worry or not, and when it does, it’s usually bad.”

“Interesting,” he said. “All this time I thought you were an optimist.”

“I don’t live in the clouds.”

He crossed the kitchen and backed her into the corner. “Here now, gone tomorrow. Is that your attitude?”

She waved the spoon in front of his face and tried to push him away. “Something like that,” she said defiantly.

“You’re always optimistic with kids, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“What about your friends, Jane and Samantha and Collins? Are they as pessimistic as you are about their futures?”

She was taken aback. “I know you’ve met Jane, but how do you know about Samantha and Collins?”

“Emma told me about them.” He took the Jell-O and spoon from her and put them on the counter. Then he put her hands around his neck.

“She shouldn’t have . . . What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” he answered. He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth and knew she liked that. He felt her tremble.

“Stop it.” She tried to sound irritated instead of breathless.

“You like it.”

Since she’d tilted her head to the side to give him better access to her neck, she couldn’t tell him he was wrong. “Yes,” she whispered.

“I’m keeping my distance.” His fingers slid through her silky hair, and he gently turned her to look up at him. His mouth came down on top of hers. She never wanted the wet and hot sensation to end. As he made love to her with his tongue, she clung to him, and when he tried to end the kiss, she pulled him back to kiss her again.

He was shaking with desire when he finally backed away. “Olivia, it happens so fast with you,” he whispered. “All I have to do is get near you, and I want it all. I thought it was your perfume that was such a turn-on, but it isn’t. It’s you.”

She understood. When she got close to him, all she could think about was making love to him. She tucked her head under his chin so she wouldn’t be distracted and asked, “What did you mean about keeping your distance?”

His chin dropped down and he rubbed it lightly across the top of her head. “I’m keeping my distance from you until we make an arrest.”

“This is your idea of keeping your distance?”

He hugged her. “Apparently so.”

He let go of her and walked out of the kitchen. She followed. “Where are you going?”

“To bed.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. Grayson took her hand and started toward the bedroom.

“We have to have sex,” he said very matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“You know why. You’re here now, but you could be gone tomorrow. We need to take advantage of the time we have.”

“That’s not funny,” she snapped, pulling on his hand.

“Yeah, it kinda is.”

She was furious with him. “I could die tomorrow,” she argued.

“Yes, you could.” He’d removed his tie and was now working on his shirt. His smile was tender. “But you’re here now.”

“You’re being cruel, Grayson.”

“No, I’m not. Take your clothes off, sweetheart.”

She couldn’t believe his gall. Did he think that all he had to do was snap his fingers and she’d strip for him? she wondered, even as she removed her blouse and reached for the zipper on her skirt.

“This is just lust.” She made the statement as her skirt dropped to the floor. She pulled the silky camisole over her head and tossed it behind her. Her bra and panties followed. “Sex is a way to release pent-up tension . . . you know, anxiety. But it’s primarily lust. That’s all it is.”

Saying it out loud didn’t make it true. Olivia was already emotionally invested. She wanted Grayson to touch her, yes, but there was another reason besides the physical. Her feelings for him were growing.

Grayson was watching her expressions. In the past minute she’d looked happy, then angry, and now . . . disgruntled. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on in that stubborn mind of hers. He was pushing her and she was pushing back.