Taken Identity (7 page)

“You chose this? This setting for lunch?”

For once, his laughter seemed unforced and genuinely amused. “Good grief, no. What do you take me for? I asked for a secluded table for two, meaning no one to be able to overhear anything we talked about. Obviously, that translated into seduction in Scottish-mode. When I seduce you, it’s going to be somewhere special, and somewhere we’ll get no interruptions. Preferably my playroom, but if not, it’ll be private—for our first time, at least.”

He laughed again, obviously seeing the astounded look on her face. Jules knew her jaw had dropped.
Playroom? Oh my.

“D’you want me to ask them to move us to the main restaurant? I will, but then, of course, there
is
the chance of being overheard.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be daft, of course not. I’m with you that I just thought this was a bit OTT.”

He laughed. “Well, yes, it is. Just blame Iain MacFarlane, the manager. When I said I wanted somewhere private, he probably thought I wanted seduction. Hence here.”

“Don’t tell me, you went to school with him, as well?” As he nodded, Jules groaned. Was his friend another Dom? Hell, would she even recognize one if it hit her in the face? Or should that be he hit her on the bum? She was so bloody clueless most of the time. “And I suppose you own part of the hotel, as well?”

He shook his head and laughed as she mimed relief. “Nope, not part. All. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Not good enough. Here you are at your hotel, and the guy who runs it thinks you’ve brought me here for sex! What the hell do your friends think I am?”

“Not you,” he reassured her. “
Me.
I, er, got a bit of a reputation in my younger days. A rock chick, a room and a rebel—me. Several crops, a set of cuffs and she said I was the best partner ever. Made the tabloids, and I’ve never lived it down. Except that the rock chick was my non-kissing cousin, the crops were for a riding competition she was in the next day, her dad was a cop, her parents were there and I was partnering her in a horse ride for charity. The rebel? Well, I had a motorbike and leathers. From such little info, a legend is made.”

Now that was a picture made to put any girl into sexual awareness overdrive, Jules reflected, as she felt her breath quicken and her imagination surge.
Think of something negative, like his wife. Yup, designed to kill any interesting scenarios before they even get started in your mind.

“I can imagine.” Jules tried half-heartedly to dispel the images. “One day, I’d love to see you in leathers!”

“One day, you shall, then.” He winked. “Though they won’t be the sort I’d wear on my bike.”

Jules couldn’t stop her gasp as her body filled with heat and her juices gathered at the entrance to her pussy. His laugh, and soft, “Oh yes, my pet, you like the thought of that,” did nothing to dispel them. She gritted her teeth and looked at the table.

“Oh God, he really
did
think you were in seduction mode, didn’t he?” She gestured toward the food—oysters, finger food and strawberries, all designed to be fed to each other. And a bottle of champagne sitting in a cooler. Luckily, she couldn’t see any whipped cream. That would have been the end.

“Maybe he just knows I love oysters?” Gray suggested.

“Hmm. Do you?”

“Actually, no, I hate them. They’re all yours.”

“You’re too generous. I don’t suppose there’s a helpful cat around with a penchant for mollusk?”

“No, no cat. Leave them, and I’ll tell him we don’t need any extra stimulation.”

Heat ran over her skin as she absorbed his words. “Gray, you can’t. I’ll swallow the bloody things and pretend they’re strawberries.”

“Leave them.”

Oh ho, Dom alert.
She dipped her head and cursed under her breath as he spoke into her ear.

“I like that.” Gray raised his voice.
“
Shall we?”

He pulled the table closer, and, deliberately it seemed, moved nearer to her on the padded seat, until their thighs were almost brushing.

Whether it
was
an accident or he did it on purpose, Jules didn’t know, but whichever it was, it wasn’t helping her arousal level. Gray knew just how to tease her senses.
Just enjoy it, Jules,
she thought. They both knew that while Julia and whatever she was up to was unresolved, their growing attraction for each other would also remain unresolved.

“I’m stuffed,” Jules said inelegantly, as she looked at the remains of their lunch. “Pure, unadulterated greed. But oh, so good. Gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous,” he said in agreement. “And so was the food.”

She blushed.

“I’ve got to do this. And I sound like an old roué in a historical novel, but…” He leaned forwards and kissed her. As their tongues met and danced, Jules could feel all her resolution slipping. He popped the buttons of her blouse open, unerringly found one taut nipple and caressed it. She moaned, lifting one hand to his chest to reciprocate.

A coal fell into the fire grate with a harsh sound. Jules jumped, moved her hand then his. He drew back and she let him, reluctance and frustration in every move.

By the time there was a sensible distance between them, they were both breathing heavily. Gray ran his hand through his hair.

“Er, d’you think we’d better have coffee somewhere else?” Was that breathy voice really hers?

Gray nodded and stood to help her move away from that all-concealing settee. “Where?”

Jules considered. “Well, not anywhere like that room where we were before. It’s so boring.”

“It’s meant to be. It’s a conference room.”

“Well, all it conferred on me was a desire to shut my eyes and block it out. Do you have a lounge—you know, a suite here?”

He nodded. “But if we go there, I can’t guarantee what will happen. It seems as if we only need to be alone, to get—”

“Aroused? Turned on? Horny as hell?”

“I was trying to be more subtle, but that about sums it up.”

Jules was laughing. “I don’t think there is anything subtle about the way we almost jump each other. We both know there is too much at stake to go scratching itches. I can be grown up if you can.”

He muttered, “It’s what we consider grown up that I’m worried about.”

Jules ignored him and opened the door. “Shall we?”

“We shall. Definitely. Oh, you mean have coffee in my suite? That too.”

She was speechless. Definitely a first!

Gray’s suite on the ground floor was large and although opulent, not ostentatious. Comfortable settees were grouped around yet another real fire, which was lit and glowing. She glanced at the sunshine outside, lighting up the yet again private courtyard, then at the fire.

“I know,” he answered her unspoken message correctly. “These walls are thick and like the room we dined in, the fire is a much nicer way of making sure they don’t get damp, rather than having horrible central-heating radiators on. I prefer that, and as this is my private domain, well…” He did a shrug that made her nerves quiver. “Elsewhere, we accept people don’t want a fire on such a sunny day.”

Looking at the warmth and intimacy the fire created, Jules wasn’t sure it was such a good idea at that particular moment, but kept her mouth shut. She was in deep enough already without pointing out what a romantic scene it created. Instead, she dug into her bag and took out her laptop. Then curiosity got the better of her. “Do you, um…have any other rooms here?”

Gray stared and his face changed. Jules swallowed. If she’d needed a reminder of how he would be in Dom mode, she had it then.

“Explain that, pet. Don’t talk in riddles.”

Oh, lordy.

“Well, I assume you have a bedroom, but do you have playroom?” she asked. Her words tumbled over each other as she rushed them in order not to chicken out.

“Would you like me to have, pet?”

Jules knew she had to be truthful. “I think so. I’d like to know what one looked like in real life, anyway.”

“Thank you for your honesty.” Gray held her face in his hands. “Not here, but one day I will show you some of mine.”

Some?

“And we’ll see how we mesh, eh? But first…grief, woman, what’s in here apart from a laptop? The kitchen sink?”

Jules gave him a withering look.

He laughed and pulled a side table as far away from the fire as possible.

“So we don’t get, um, overheated,” he replied blandly to her unspoken question. “And yes, okay, I’m hot enough as it is. That’s your fault.”

“Not dignifying that untruth with an answer,” she said, then realized her contradiction. “Oh well, I’ll shut up. Let’s get this spreadsheet started.”

She was as good as her word. “Right. I’m going to start listing where I was and when. So, then if Sean gives us any info, we can incorporate it. That should help us see if we cross over anywhere.”

He watched as her fingers flew over the keyboard, compiling and annotating rapidly growing columns.

“Wow, Jules, do you want a job?”

She looked up from the screen. “What?”

“I could do with you in any number of positions.”

Her lips twitched. Dare she say
back at you?
Maybe not.

Luckily, he either hadn’t noticed—or chose not to notice—his double entendre. “If you ever get sick of writing stories, there are a fair number of my executives who would give their right hand to have a PA as efficient as you.”

“Rubbish. If their PA isn’t efficient, tell them to get one who is. Easy!” She could see her outspokenness had astonished him, as he blinked twice and cleared his throat.

“You think so?”

“Well, come on, Gray, if you can’t take the heat and all that. Don’t you employ on a probationary period? Have a get out clause, so if someone’s PA decides his or her boss is going to be the next Mr. or Mrs. PA, you can reassign him or her? If you don’t, well, you deserve all that you get.”

“Succinctly said. We do, and I will make sure it’s used when I deem necessary. However, some people feel it is a personal slur against them if their handpicked staff does not live up to expectations. I, however, do not. People change, their situations change, attitudes change. Therefore, circumstances will change.”

“Mmm. Well, mine certainly have. Look at this.” Jules waved a hand in the direction of the computer screen.

He peered over her shoulder, then seemed to change his mind and pulled a chair up.

“Show me,” he said.

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with now,” Jules said. “Just a perfect display of how, as my income grew, so did my love of traveling. I mean, the love had been there, but I began to have the means to indulge.”

“How did you transcribe all that so quickly?” He looked interested.

“Indexed diaries. I tell you, I’m anal about them. So see, after my first book was accepted, it was cultural trips. Rome, Venice, Athens. Then farther away, both for culture and sun.”

“By yourself? Or…?” He raised one eyebrow delicately.

Grr, Jules wished she could do that with such devastating effect. Instead, she replied in kind. “Or?”

“Or with a companion?” He growled the question.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say? Of course, with a companion. Not really much fun alone. To say nothing of the safety aspect. Young woman on her own…not a good idea.”

“Exactly.”

She could almost hear his teeth grinding.

“So, where is he now?” he asked.

“He?” Jules parried, amused.

“Your companion.”

“Oh, it wasn’t the same one all the time, Gray. We’re talking about seven years here. A long time.”

Jules watched the emotions as they chased across his face. So, a man could change from partner to partner, but not a woman? Double standards? Not in her life. However, she decided to take pity on him and on herself. The last thing she wanted was for Gray to think her promiscuous.

“The only male I’ve been away with is Alasdair, my brother. Other than that, it’s been Mum or various girlfriends. That is, friends who are girls, not girlfriends as in a couple. Strictly heterosexual, that’s me.”

“Glad to hear it, all of it.”

“Good. Well now, you can see I got my new passport here.” She indicated something on the computer. “Before that, I had a photo of me in my teens that was just not…well, me in later years. I think I was going through my Goth period when I had that photo taken. So, I think if my passport was cloned, it’s from about five years ago or less. If it was earlier, then no one would have thought to use me as a double, because the photo was so different. Black hair, kohl around my eyes and a nose ring. Well a fake nose ring, I didn’t dare defy Mum too much. I reckon she was a Domme. She wielded a mean double ruler on my ass many a time. Mind you, I deserved it. I was a brat. And don’t say I still am.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but you know what you are…”

She sniggered. “Yeah. Me who knows, you to find out.”

“I look forward to showing you that you might not know yourself as well as you think you do,” Gray said cryptically. “Now. Back to this passport.”

Jules thought that might be a good idea. “Okay, so we concentrate on anything that looks unusual, or I remember in the two years before you met her. Yes?”

Gray nodded and sat next to her as they skimmed through the notations she had made.

There was silence in the room as they read, apart from the odd clunk and rustle as the coals shifted in the fireplace. Jules felt herself losing concentration. All she wanted to do was to move sideways into Gray’s arms. Unfortunately, after the revelations from earlier in the day, she knew there was now even more reason not to. Instead, she blinked several times to try to relieve the dryness in her eyes and lubricate her lenses. The action brought back a very hazy memory.

“Hold on a minute.” She scrolled back, to nearer the beginning of the spreadsheet. “Now, where…? No, not then, but somewhere near… Dammit, hold on. Lemme look.”

She was muttering under her breath, oblivious of Gray. When she looked up, he was watching her with what looked like enjoyment.

“Aha. Got it. I knew there was something. Look here. See?”

Gray bent his head to get a better view of the screen and brushed her shoulder. Electricity arced between them and Jules wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks. She rubbed her shoulder and the tingles spread downwards.