Caress (12 page)

“You have this here?” he asked in amazement, pointing at the brochure. “I didn’t see it on the tour.”

“Of course we do,” she replied, confused.

“May I see it? I have the print, but I haven’t seen much more of her work. Everything I’ve seen, though, I’ve liked. She’s really talented. Have you ever met her?”

“Are you serious? You’re joking, right?” Nya leveled her sharp gaze at him.

“No, I’m not.” His brow furrowed. “What?”

Nya sighed with a knowing smile. “Yes, I’ve met her, and I can tell you exactly why you haven’t seen much of her work. She’s a very private person, not really interested in the celebrity spotlight. That’s one of only five she has in print.” She gestured to the brochure. “You’re very lucky to have one. It was a very limited edition. There are only a thousand lithographs of her work out there, two hundred of each of the five she’s released.”

“How many of her works do you have?” Michael inquired anxiously.

“We have all the originals, actually,” Nya said and smiled widely. “Several are in my father’s houses, and I’ve got a small one.”

“All of them!” Michael exclaimed. “How’d you manage that?”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you.” Nya smirked proudly. “Andersen’s her maiden name. Her name is actually Hatsheput Andersen Seymour.”

“Your—” Nya nodded. “That’s your mother? Wow. I read that your sister was a painter, but your mother?”

“It’s not something that’s well known by the general public. We like it that way. But I’ll be sure to tell her that she’s got yet another admirer.” Nya laughed. She actually laughed in Michael Harrison’s presence. He laughed as well. Then she wasn’t laughing anymore. The richness of his laughter and the way it made her feel caught her unawares. She felt a luscious flame steal its way across her body. Voluntary movement at that moment became impossible.

The only thing that could explain it was the atmosphere of the lush garden, so private, so very intimate. The scent of roses and honeysuckle combined to make a sweet, mesmerizing perfume that hung heavy in the air about them. The fountain provided a soft, trickling melody and the lush greenery hid them as they stood staring at each other, unable to speak.

Slowly Michael’s hand rose to trace Nya’s cheek and jaw.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered. He tipped her chin gently upward and leaned in with a deliberate slowness.

He kissed her gently, cautiously, as if he were unsure how she would respond. But Nya was so mesmerized by his touch, his scent, his dominant presence that she didn’t have an ounce of resistance in her. Her eyes fluttered to his lips as her own parted, waiting for him. He pressed his lips to hers, and felt her yield to him, yield to her own desire. His lips nibbled at hers, testing her acceptance. Then she felt his tongue slip inside and her heart almost stopped. The intimacy was heavenly, and she stroked back with her own.

He groaned and pulled her closer. Her hands crept up on his strong shoulders, then around his neck. She wanted to melt right into him. Never had she been so affected by a kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should resist; this was the last place she needed to be kissing a man she barely knew, and yet she was powerless to draw away. Her body and soul craved this contact, and overwhelming desire soared through every bone.

They sprang apart at the sound of footsteps and a loud, “Ahem!”

Nya’s head snapped up and she saw Elphonse standing several feet away at the entrance. One of her hands flew up to her lips and she panicked. She completely panicked.

Michael called out to him—was actually yelling and looking like he might run after him—but Nya backed away and found herself walking the other way. Michael called after her, but she actually broke into a light trot, trying to get away to some place in the world where she could sort out what had happened.

Michael Harrison could not make heads nor tails out of what had just happened. One minute he’d been experiencing the sexiest first kiss of his life, the next, he was torn between chasing down two very important people. Nya had sprung away from him, probably upset that he’d been so forward, or maybe upset by her own response to him, Michael couldn’t tell. And Elphonse Deklerk, the man who had exposed the corruption and led him to Marshall Ellis, had shown up. When he saw Michael, he too had turned and sped away.

That was the damndest thing. It was possible that the informant had worried Michael would give him away, but his exit was almost cartoonish in how fast it was, enough to be conspicuous on its own. Michael had chosen to follow the man but lost him in the maze of gallery rooms.

What the hell was that about?

h

When Michael saw the pale blue SUV pull up in front of the galleries, he bid the security guard goodbye and walked out of the building and slid into the passenger seat.

“
Hola!”
Her voice was a little too chipper to sound anything less than guilty, or maybe apologetic.

“Hello, Lysette.” He buckled his seat belt. With dryness in his voice, he said, “Thanks so much for coming to get me.”

“Anytime.”

“I considered walking home until I realized I still had to get my car.”

Lysette nodded and pulled away from the curb. She seemed to be concentrating very hard on the maneuver.

Michael waited until she pulled out onto the street before he added, “Seeing as I was
left
here.”

Lysette winced but kept her eyes on the road. “About that…”

“Yeah… about that…”

“Hey, don’t get an attitude with me. I didn’t leave you—”

“No, your best friend did, and I don’t know why.” Not
completely
true
.
Michael knew Nya had felt what he felt. Standing in that garden with her had reminded him of his fantasy. She had been as she was in the fantasy, only so much more. He’d had to kiss her, hold her, and reality had outpaced anything he could dream up. That woman
belonged
in his arms. And she knew it. Michael had felt the way she had acquiesced and then finally reciprocated. He had seen the look in her eyes when they broke apart. That look was fear, maybe fear of discovery, maybe of something else… but more than anything a fear of what had happened between them. She knew, just like he knew, that this was significant for them both. They were connected now.

“Yeah… about that… I’m sure something important had to have come up for her to leave. She didn’t say what it was, but that’s the only explanation. She’s leaving town tomorrow, so I’m sure as always she’s pressed for time. Maybe it’s something to do with the investigation. I’ll find out when I talk to her later.”

God, I hope you don’t find out, Michael thought.

“You mind if I stop in this drive-thru and get some sweet tea?”

“Not at all.”

Unfortunately, the restaurant was out of sweet tea and they had to settle for unsweetened.

“I’m going to park for a sec to put my sugar in,” Lysette said, proceeding to pour white packet after white packet into her tea.

“A little tea with your sugar?” Michael asked.

“I need the sugar. I’ve got to keep my energy up,” she informed him cheerily as she swished her straw around in her cup.

“I can’t imagine you, of all people, out of energy.”

“I’ve been exhausted lately,” she replied before taking a long sip. “So there was something you mentioned you wanted to talk about today at the office.”

“I recall someone telling me that she couldn’t tell me anything more because of her loyalty to the Seymours.”

“I know what I said, but for the most part, I think you’re alright, Michael. Besides, I’ve got a couple of questions for you,” she replied. “But you go first.” She backed out of the parking spot and pulled away.

“Do you know a man by the name of Elphonse Deklerk? He’s a tall, light-skinned dude who works at Hatsheput? This guy is real red, and kind of slim.”

She reached down beside her to dig through her purse. When she pulled out her cell phone, she started to push buttons. Though she swerved a little, Michael decided to remain silent and simply brace himself.

“This Elphonse Deklerk?” She held up a picture. The picture showed Nya and the man with their arms around each other, smiling for the camera.

A pulse started to tick in his temple and his eye jumped. Why was Nya so close to him? Why did she treat him so familiarly? “I guess you do know him.”

Lysette shrugged and reached to down to tuck her phone back in her purse. “What about him?”

Michael wasn’t sure how much to reveal. He still didn’t understand the earlier exchange. “Nothing, really. I just saw him at the galleries,” he responded. “Tell me about him.”

“What do you want to know?” Lysette hedged.

“Who is he to—” Michael took a breath and cleared his throat. Even to his own ears, his voice had sounded a tad too aggressive. “How do you know him?”

“El?” she glanced over at him. “I’m sure you know he’s a VP at the company, but beyond that… well… For better or worse, El is a part of the Seymour family… like me. He was orphaned as a kid and Nyron took him in when he was just ten or eleven. He’s like Nya’s big brother.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah,” she answered slyly.

So she thought Michael was jealous? Well, that was fine, and maybe just a tad true. “And he works for Hatsheput? Assistant VP responsible for continuity in each office and gallery?”

“Yeah, everything from security to floor plan.”

“How long has he been in that job?”

“About as long as Nya has been VP of marketing.”

Michael nodded, thinking. Then a question popped into his head. He didn’t know where it came from, but all of a sudden, his blood was rushing through him. “Did he know about the investigation into the Art Sentries Foundation? I know now that it was kept close to the vest, but did he—”

“Of course he knew,” Lysette interrupted. “That’s Nyron’s right hand. He would have known everything Nyron did. He’s like a son.”

His mind was racing. Elphonse Deklerk had tipped him off to what was happening with the scholarship fund. He had given him Marshall Ellis on a platter. He had known what Michael planned to do with that information, and yet he’d let the man make a fool of himself anyway. Why would the guy do it? He would have to know that the Feds didn’t want this information leaked, wouldn’t he? Could it be that he
wanted
this to get out? And if he did, why? Did he believe the press would actually help the case in some way? Did he think Nyron would be forced into retirement early so he could take the helm? Worse, was it possible he wanted to
hurt
the investigation? There were so many possibilities and only a single truth: For some unknown reason, Elphonse Deklerk had set him up.

“What is it?” Lysette asked, pulling into the office parking lot. Michael gestured to his car.

“I’m sorry?”

“What is it about El that has you asking all these questions and looking like there’s something you aren’t telling me?”

Michael licked his lips, then gave a small shrug. “He’s family, so I don’t want to say anything that might offend.”

“Oh, offend me,” Lysette drawled, stopping beside his car.

“Nah, I just had a run in with the guy a while back. Let’s just say that I don’t quite trust him. Granted, I don’t know him like y’all do.”

“
We
don’t know him like we used to,” Lysette scoffed.

“Oh yeah?”

“He’s been distant for the past couple of years. A long time ago something happened that changed him a little, and ever since then, he’s just been real cool, you know. Lately, it’s even worse. What do you know?”

Michael didn’t answer right away. His next steps demanded extreme caution. Deklerk was a very close friend of the Seymour family, since childhood. If he was reckless again, he would lose the scent of what he could tell was going to be another important discovery. “So is that what you meant when you said that Nyron Seymour didn’t ‘exactly’ have a son to pass the business on to?”

“You got it,” she murmured in a pained voice. “Even though everyone knows he’s got the business sense of Marie Antoinette, he’s been like the son Nyron never had. For that, and a number of other reasons, he got on at Hatsheput in upper management. He just got promoted to vice president of our St. Thomas office, and that’s our most important branch outside of this one. Nyron hasn’t said anything, but the way Elphonse kisses up, there’s no doubt he’s on the list of possibilities to run the company.”

“As you pointed out earlier today, I haven’t met Seymour, but I certainly don’t think he’s the type of man to ruin his company just because he’s got a certain affinity for this guy.” Michael was incredulous. No one with the business acumen Seymour displayed would risk his company over personal preferences. Granted, Seymour had trusted Ellis, and now Elphonse’s character was a giant question mark as well.

“Again,” Lysette said, speaking slowly to make sure that Michael understood, “you have never met the man. Ever since this business was started he’s hired hardly anyone but Islanders. All of his friends have positions from the Board of Trustees to the mailroom. But you’re right. Though he doesn’t normally put people in positions they aren’t qualified for, he pampers El. And he does not, I repeat, does not want Nya to inherit his position.”