Racing the Hunter's Moon (Entangled Bliss) (6 page)

She winced. “God, onions are so horrible! I can’t even peel one. Rubbing your eyes must have been agony!”

He checked the speedometer. “So you watch crime shows, enjoy making invisible ink, and tracking people—why the hell did you become a mechanic?”

“My father.” She ticked off a point on the chart and reached into the back to ease the lid off the cooler. “Water?”

He shook his head, so she pulled a bottle out for herself, and took a sip.

“My dad was a mechanic. My mother’s family was rich, and my father worked for them. They came from totally different backgrounds, but they loved each other until he died.”

There was a trace of sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry about your dad. How long ago did he die?”

“When I was a kid. My mother’s family was sure he was just after her money. They told her she wouldn’t receive a penny of her inheritance unless she divorced him. She never did.” Her smile was warm as she remembered. “Dad was always able to provide for us. And my mother used to say all the money in the world wouldn’t be enough to separate them.”

“How did she manage after his death?”

“They relented. Gave her access to the trust they’d put her money into. She doesn’t care much about money—she bought a house in the Hamptons because she’s always loved the ocean.”

“So you followed in your father’s footsteps.”

“When I wasn’t being a private eye, I was with him, tinkering under the hood of a car.” She grinned. “They always talked about how they first fell in love. Mom wrapped her first car around a tree on its first outing, and brought it to him on the quiet. She wanted him to fix it and not tell her parents. He did, but not until he’d given her hell for driving too fast. He insisted on going out with her four or five times to check her driving. He made her crazy.” She laughed. “He was so good at making her laugh. After he died, she didn’t laugh for a long time. For years.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

Betty glanced over. “He was. I miss him.”

“I know how that feels.” Even though it had been years, he still missed his mother, never more than this time of year. The anniversary of her death was coming up, and that always stirred up memories. Mostly bad ones—but today he’d remembered something long forgotten. A time when they’d been happy. “Charmers took her for a lot of money.”

“Yes.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper. “He took more from her than money. He led her on, lied to her, and stole her faith in humankind.” Her fingers clenched into fists. “I hate him for that.”

Charmers had done more than that; his actions had affected Betty too—must have added a layer of mistrust and disillusionment to her open, trusting nature. Joe’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel. The damage was done. It was important he stay focused and detached, but the thought of bringing Charmers to justice and renewing Betty’s faith, seeing her happiness, added an extra impetus to succeed. To do the job right.

Betty’s happiness mattered.

Chapter Six

The afternoon faded, and by the time they approached the final control point there was a chill in the air.

They were high in the mountains now. On the way up, the sun had set, painting the sky every shade of blue and pink in the process. The mountains were heather mauve and dark denim blue in the curved dips between the peaks. As night fell, birds scattered, settling on their roosts for the night. Betty had pointed out the fluttering outlines of bats against the night sky as they left civilization behind and headed deep into nature’s heart. This land was so different from the smog-filled cities Joe knew. Here, they were one with nature. He had even rolled the window down to breathe in the cold, crisp air—until Betty’s protests had forced him to close it again.

They stopped at the final control point and got their time recorded, then parked outside a large wooden hotel that looked more like a giant log cabin than anything else. Smaller cabins were attached to it on both sides, forming a square with a central courtyard garden. A table of drinks was set up at the entrance.

A waitress smiled as they walked over. “What can I get you?”

“Champagne sounds good,” Betty said.

“Make it two.” Joe turned to Betty.

“So that’s it for today, huh?”

“Yes.” She took a sip. “There’s a meal at seven thirty, and we don’t start off again until ten tomorrow morning.” She rotated her shoulders and tried to stretch her aching back. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to get out of these clothes.”

Joe smiled. Raised his eyebrows.

Heat flooded Betty’s face. He was only teasing, but still the idea held a certain appeal.

“I’m dying to climb into a hot bath.
Alone
. To ease my muscles.”

“Yeah, I know, I was just messing with you.” Joe drained his drink. “Let’s go check in.”

Reception handed them keys, and gave them directions to their rooms, which were in the main hotel. Joe followed her to her room, then when she had unlocked the door, turned away. “I’ll come get you at seven thirty, then.”

…

Joe’s luggage and laptop were stacked neatly on a luggage rack in his room. They would be spending two nights at the hotel, so he unpacked his suit and tux, and stacked his spare clothes in the drawers.

The room was dominated by a huge four-poster bed. Joe tested the mattress, then strode in to check out the bathroom. Along the back wall was a claw-foot tub, and to the side a small shower enclosure. His body ached from being stuck in the car all day, and the thought of a long, hot bath was appealing, but he needed to check in with Bond—find out if they’d had any luck tracing any of the new names in Charmers’s hidden bank account—so a shower would have to do.

He stripped off his clothes, left them lying on the floor, and climbed into the shower.

The complimentary bottles of shampoo were tiny. And the soap was barely bigger than a pack of matches. Joe did the best he could with what was available. At least the shower pressure was good and the water hot. As he soaped his chest, his thoughts turned to Betty, next door.

Right about now, she’d be luxuriating in a huge tub.
A tub big enough for two
. There had been a flash of awareness earlier when he’d teased her about getting naked. And the way she’d kissed him this morning had been above and beyond what was needed to maintain the pretense of a fake relationship. All day he’d tried to keep on track, not just in the race, but in his head. The car had been full of her scent, and the way she glanced across the close confines of the car at him, the intimacy of working closely with someone with a shared goal, had eroded his defenses.

The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. For years he’d been alone, hiding his true identity and purpose from everyone. God knows he hadn’t wanted to reveal himself to her, but the circumstances of their meeting had forced him to, and the time they’d spent talking had brought them closer.

She felt guilt for not looking out for her mother. He’d never shared the truth of his background, the guilt he felt every day that he hadn’t been able to get his mother away from his father sooner. Once upon a time, he’d wanted to fight back, show the old man what it was like to suffer under the fists of another.

But that would have made him and his father the same, so instead, he’d channeled his fury into law enforcement. Into standing up for women made weak by love of the wrong man.

His history had seemed too deep, too personal to share with anyone before—but he had the feeling Betty might understand.

She was getting under his skin. What would it be like to have more, to actually have a real relationship with her when this was all over?

One thing at a time.
Joe turned off the faucet and wrapped himself in a towel. Catching Charmers must be his entire focus; he couldn’t afford to jeopardize that by being distracted, no matter how compelling the distraction.

…

Tonight felt like a date. She’d luxuriated in the hot bath until her fingers and toes had turned pruney, couldn’t stop thinking over the day’s events. But instead of stressing over Charmers, her mind had been filled with thoughts of Joe.

His voice. The way he didn’t talk much, but somehow made each word matter. When driving, his movements were economical, but sure. She’d never had to repeat a direction—they worked together like a finely tuned machine.

A thread of attraction linked them. Tonight would be even more so, as they pretended to be a couple once again. Maybe Alice was right. Maybe she deserved to have a fling with him. It didn’t have to be forever—he had a life and a job to go back to once Charmers was in custody, but every time she thought of him, every moment in his company made it more difficult to resist him, and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why she even should.

Then she remembered. He only knew half the story. That she was determined to get Charmers. He didn’t know that she and Leonora had planned to bring him to justice by trapping him, catching him in the act. Taking things further without revealing the truth would be dishonest, and time to catch Charmers was running out. They had to wrap this operation up fast.

She pulled open the wardrobe doors. The red silk chiffon, or the gold Azzedine Alaïa? She ran a hand down both and decided on the red. Cut daringly low with a sweetheart neckline and a swatch of fabric that curved over one shoulder, it was a shut-up-and-look-at-me dress. One she’d bought in a mad moment for far too much money because she hadn’t been able to resist it, but had never found an opportunity to wear. Luckily the bodice was discreetly lined, because it was cut too low to allow the wearing of a bra. She slipped it over her head, smoothed the expertly draped front, stepped into high gold stilettos, and turned to check the back view.

The gold watch her mother had given her on her last birthday was next—and she checked the time as she fastened it. Three-quarters of an hour to go. Time enough to curl her hair and arrange it with the jeweled clasp she’d borrowed from Alice. And to go all-out with makeup for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Yup, it sure feels like a date.

When the knock came at the door forty minutes later, she was ready and waiting.

The sight of Joe in the doorway stole her breath. Like her, he’d dressed up for the occasion. The slate-gray suit fitted perfectly, and he wore a snow-white shirt and a silver-gray silk tie. Freshly shaven, with his hair slicked back from his face to emphasize the sharp planes of his cheekbones and the blueness of his eyes, he made her heart race.

His gaze swept her head to toe, then returned to her face. His pupils expanded, swallowing up the blue. “You look beautiful.” His voice was deep and husky. “Really beautiful.” For a moment, time stood still. The air seemed to thicken, to charge with words unsaid and dangerous emotion.

Then he reached for her hand, and brought her knuckles to his lips.

Betty’s legs felt weak as sensation flowed through her. “You look beautiful too.” Pulling him inside her room, pressing her mouth to his, and ripping off his tie and shirt to run her hands over the broad expanse of his chest was an errant thought that she itched to follow.
We have a job to do.
“We should go.”

“Yes.” He released her hand and stepped back, looked away, and broke the spell.

Joe linked his arm through hers as they walked. Once inside the ballroom, he released her, but kept his hand at the curve of her spine as they joined Leonora and Alexander at their table. She couldn’t take a step without being aware of him. Circular tables set with linen tablecloths and sparkling crystal glasses filled the dining room. The room was full of couples, filled with the murmur of many voices speaking, yet they could have been alone, so attuned to him was she.

Leonora smiled. “I love your dress—is it a Pamella Roland?”

Trust Leonora to know her designers. “It’s a couple of seasons old, but yes, it is.”

Joe filled her glass with wine, and then his own.

The rallymeister and the race organizers sat at a table on a makeshift stage, rather like the head table at a wedding, and once everyone had taken their seats, the rallymeister stood and tapped his glass with a knife.

Silence descended.

“We’ve had a great first day, everyone,” he said. “We’ve tallied the time cards, and I have winners’ jerseys for the driver and navigator who are in the lead at this stage.” He looked down and consulted his notes. “Flora and Mac Jackson, would you come up here?”

The room applauded as Flora and Mac made their way to the stage to claim their jerseys. “Each day is timed separately—the team that does best overall will be the ultimate winner, but everyone has a chance to excel at the end of each day’s stage and claim the winners’ jerseys,” the rallymeister said. “Tomorrow is another day—so good luck everyone. I’m sure you’re all hungry, so I won’t keep you from your meal any longer. We’ll continue with the auction when we’ve all eaten.”

He raised his glass. “Here’s to the end of the first day!”

The meal was delicious. Thinly sliced beef and tiny roasted potatoes with butter-glazed peas and baby carrots, followed by an airy lemon mousse and fresh strawberries.

“So what’s the route likely to be for tomorrow?” Joe asked.

“You know the area better than me, Leonora,” Betty said. “But I know we are returning here tomorrow night, so I guess we could be looping around Hainsville and then back by the river road?”

Leonora considered for a moment. “That’s one way, or they could have plotted a route farther into the mountains—around by Crystal Falls. There’s a road that doubles back through there somewhere.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Joe covered Betty’s hand with his. “Have you ever competed in the rally before, Leonora?”

“Oh yes.” She brushed a strand of her short, silvery hair back from her face. “But not for years. My husband loved the rally. This is the first time I’ve done it without him, though.” Her smile looked forced. When she picked up her wineglass, her hand trembled almost imperceptibly. “I think I’ll freshen up before the auction begins.” Her eyes flashed a plea Betty’s direction.

Obeying it, Betty responded. “I’ll join you.”

They left the men at the table and made their way from the crowded dining room.

On the way to the bathroom, Leonora tugged at Betty’s arm and jerked her head in the direction of an empty room off the lobby. “I don’t want to be overheard,” she hissed as they hurried inside.

“What’s up?”

Leonora couldn’t stand still. She paced back and forth in the silent room.

“Alexander mentioned an investment opportunity this afternoon in the car. He said he knew a company that was going to float on the stock exchange.”

Betty’s mouth dried. This could be the break they’d been looking for.
I should have bugged the car.
“Did he ask you to put money in?”

Leonora shook her head. “Not yet. I think he was warming me up to the idea.”

They had an opportunity to catch him in the act. A chance to get him on tape. Even though Alice had been against the idea, that had been primarily an objection to the garage’s involvement, and at the last moment, Betty had thrown the bugging device into her suitcase. “I can bug your car with your consent. Later tonight.”

She’d have to talk to Joe—let him in on at least part of the secret that she and Leonora were working together. Nerves danced in her stomach.
How will he take it?
The realization that she was more involved than he’d thought, was taking a considerably more active role than his overprotective nature would be happy with, might propel him to intervene. To try to make her back off. Every hour they’d spent together had brought them closer, had made them more in sync, but omissions were as bad as lies really. The arrangements had been made with Leonora before Joe’s arrival on the scene, before she knew him. They couldn’t move on to the next level, both in catching Charmers and in their relationship, without her coming clean.

Now they were partners—he needed to know.

“Give me your keys. I’ll take care of it.”
We’ll take care of it.

“Of course.” Leonora opened her clutch bag and took out her car keys. “Slip the keys back to me tomorrow morning.”

…

Joe couldn’t take his eyes off Betty as she and Leonora walked back to their table. She was a complete knockout in that dress, which cinched in her narrow waist and revealed a generous amount of cleavage. The material was sort of gathered in the front, and floated straight to the ground. He hadn’t a clue about women’s fashion, but whoever had created the dress knew how to showcase a woman’s body all right.

He’d tried to get Charmers to open up while they were alone with no luck. The guy had spoken about the stock market, but he’d lost Joe when he’s started talking about “dead cat bounce.” He had to push harder, had to spark Charmers’s interest.

“So the stock market is a no-no at the moment,” he murmured. “Man, who would think coming into money would be such a headache? Leaving it in my account, earning peanuts…I just know there has to be a better way to go.”