The Private Serials Box Set (8 page)

   I looked down at my outfit. “What do you mean?” I was wearing jeans and a soft, white, short-sleeved sweater.

   “I mean,” he said, stepping into my house, forcing me to step back and allow him entrance, “you can’t wear that. Go change into something dark, like black. We can’t have you standing out.”

   “Where are we going?”

   “We’re going to follow Derrek home from work. I’m hoping he’ll head to his
other
home.”

   Well, that stung.

   I nodded out the door to his black car with very dark tinted windows. “I don’t think anyone will be able to see me through your windows.”

   The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, not a full smile, but a hint of one. He turned and walked further into the house, forcing me to follow.

   “Who says we’ll stay in the car?”

   I guess he had me there. “I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, grudgingly. When I returned, I looked much the same as I did when Sam and I did our stakeout. I was in black jeans, but instead of the turtleneck, I wore a black, V-neck cotton tee. The jersey knit hugged my chest and I purposefully chose it over the frumpy turtleneck. If I had to look at Preston in his leather jacket and blue, clingy shirt, he would have to endure my tee that gave a slight view of my cleavage. He looked at me when I reentered the room, but quickly motioned toward the front door.

   “Let’s get a move on. We don’t have much time.”

   The ride to Derrek’s work was silent, and I was okay with that. I spent my time trying to figure out what all the buttons did inside Preston’s Lotus. It looked how I imagined the inside of a space shuttle might: flashing lights, switches, buttons everywhere, and even my ass was warm. He parked across the street from the main door, just like Sam had, and we sat and watched, waiting for him to come out. I was in the middle of wishing we had snacks when Derrek walked out. My breath caught in my throat as we silently watched him walk to his car, and I managed to exhale when he pulled out into traffic. Preston pulled out after him, but we didn’t talk as he tailed him.

   Preston was noticeably better at following a car than Sam and I had been. He didn’t need me to tell him where to go, or which direction Derrek’s car was heading, as he seemed to manage both the tailing and driving aspects fairly well on his own. So well, in fact, I began to wonder why he’d even brought me along.

   “Why am I here?”

   “What do you mean? You want to get your proof, right?”

   “Yeah, but I’m obviously not needed. I haven’t said one word and you haven’t asked me one question. I’m not aiding your investigation one bit. So why did you bring me?”

   “Where did you meet him?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road and presumably Derrek’s car.

   “What?”

   “Your husband. Where did you meet him?”

   “How is that going to help your investigation?”

   He shrugged. “It won’t. You just seem a little uptight so I thought I’d give you what you want – a little interaction.”

   I eyed him, trying to decide whether I was going to answer his question. I finally rolled my eyes and gave him the answer. “I met him at a frat party my sophomore year of college.”

   “Hmm,” was his response.

   “Hmm?”

   “I could totally see Derrek as a frat guy, but you, well, you don’t strike me as the kind of girl who hangs out with them.” As he said this, his head swiveled toward me and his eyes were gleaming, a slight smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

   “I wasn’t, really,” I said, turning away from him again. “Sam dragged me there and I was holding up a wall, drinking alone, when Derrek approached me.”

   “And then he swept you off your feet?”

   It was my turn to shrug. “I suppose. I mean, it’s not like we were engaged the next day or anything, but I never dated anyone else after I met him that night.”

   “How old were you?”

   “Nineteen.”

   “That’s not a lot of time to cram in a lot of dating experience.”

   “I hadn’t had any.” The words came tumbling from my mouth and I wanted to reach out and grab each and every one before he’d had a chance to hear them. I cringed inwardly. Preston cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with my careless and inappropriate confession, and then suddenly, I realized I wasn’t familiar with my surroundings any longer. “I don’t think he’s heading to the same house as he did the other night.”

   “What makes you say that?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but think he was glad for the sudden change in subject.

   “This isn’t the same route. Last time, we left his building and made our way straight to the freeway. He’s definitely heading somewhere different.”

   “Do you remember which freeway he took?”

   “Yes. He took I-84, headed East.”

   Before I knew what was happening, Preston slid his souped-up Lotus around the next corner, hanging a right so sharp I was forced to lean to my left, and centrifugal force had me leaning right into Preston’s shoulder. My hands reached out to the sides, trying to find purchase on any surface that would keep me upright.

   “What the hell, Preston?” I shouted as the car straightened out. My heartbeat was thundering and I looked to him, searching for an explanation.

   “If I get us to the freeway, can you direct me to the house again?”

   “You mean his other house with his other wife and children?”  My question was snide.  How could I forget the house my husband shared with another woman or the path there?  Both were branded into my mind.

   “Yeah. Can you get me there?”

   I blinked at him, my eyes narrowing, eyebrows scrunching together. Somehow, in the last thirty seconds, he’d gone from somewhat aloof, asking me pointless questions, to this high-strung man making demands and full of tension.

   “Yea…yes, I think I can get you there,” I stammered.

   Again, we were thrust into silence as he navigated his way to the interstate. When we’d been driving for nearly thirty minutes, I recognized our exit and then proceeded to direct him back to the house.

   We pulled up and drove by slowly. The house was dark and seemed empty. It was only early evening and it seemed unlikely that someone was inside, considering how dark it was. Preston kept driving, but at the next intersection, he made a U-turn and then pulled over a few houses down the road. We sat in silence and I stole glances at Preston, waiting for his next move.

   “What are we doing here?” I whispered. No one could hear me but him, but it felt like a situation that warranted whispering.

   “Investigating,” he said slowly, his eyes still on the house.

   “But no one’s here,” I whispered in response.

   “That’s where the private comes into play.” This he said with a small smile, and damn it if I couldn’t help a smile coming across my face as well. I let the smile settle. It caused a little bit of tension to roll away, and I relaxed into the lush seats of his fancy car. For a few more minutes we sat in the quiet car. Preston’s eyes were locked on the house and then finally he reached down an unbuckled his seatbelt.

   “What are you doing?”

   “
We’re
going into the house.”

   “Oh, no, we’re not,” I stated loudly, a little surprised he would even consider it.

   “The proof you’re so desperate for might be inside that house, Lena. Do you think he’s just going to hand it to you? You think he’s just going to give up and hand you half of a fortune he feels one-hundred-percent entitled to? You hired me to find you proof, and this is how we’re going to get it. Now, get out of the car and follow me.”

   My mouth gaped open for a moment, then I snapped it shut. He was right. We wouldn’t get the proof I needed sitting in his car. I unclicked my seatbelt and opened the door, shutting it softly behind me, not wanting to draw attention to us. I met Preston at the front of his car and gasped when his hand folded around mine and laced our fingers together. He tugged gently on my hand, pulling me into his side, and he pushed our clasped hands behind me, pressing them into my lower back.

   The front of me was fully pressed against his side and his warm fingers were wrapped around mine. I was sure he could hear my heartbeat pounding through my body, and I instinctively pressed my free hand into his chest, trying and failing to push him away. He was too close. He felt too good. I was tugged a little closer and felt his lips on the shell of my ear.

   “Don’t pull away, sweetheart.” His breath floated over my skin and I bit my lip to hold in a moan, still fighting my body for control, fighting the reaction I was having. “If anyone is watching us, we simply look like a couple taking an evening stroll.” His mouth lingered and I relaxed. I told myself I was playing along, not wanting to draw attention. Really, I took the opportunity to feel him. My hand on his chest moved slightly, running along the valley between his pectoral muscles. His body was hard and warm, my fingers grazing along his front. His hand gently squeezed mine behind my back, silently reassuring me. My hand moved up over his shoulder, slowly cresting and ending up behind his neck, my fingers running over the softness of the close-shaved hair at the nape. He exhaled and I felt his forehead press into my temple.

   “We’re going to go in the house and you’re going to keep watch, yeah?”

   I nodded, but left my hand on his neck. I felt Preston’s head tilt slightly, and then his lips were pressed against the sensitive skin just below my ear. My lungs quit working and all the synapses in my body fired at the same time, and I felt my stomach flip. His mouth was on me and it was glorious.

   Then he was gone.

   He kept a hold on my hand, pulling me toward the house I’d seen Derrek go into just days before. As we walked up the drive, Preston pulled something from his back pocket and when we reached the front door, he let go of my hand and crouched down. I did my duty and looked around, watching for anyone who might see us, and I heard the sound of the doorknob jiggling and metal scraping against metal. When I heard the door open, I turned and saw Preston slowly making his way inside.

   My heart thundered so fiercely in my body, I wasn’t sure I was going to survive. Never in my life had I done anything illegal, so breaking into someone’s house was not something I was used to. When I stalled on the front porch, Preston came back for me, wrapping his hand around mine once again, and tugging me into the house, shutting the door behind me.

   “Lena, breathe. Everything is going to be fine. No one is here.”

   I took his advice and dragged in a breath, doing my best not to pass out in the entryway. I nodded at him, but couldn’t see his expression in the darkened house. He gave my hand a squeeze, but then let it go and moved away from me.

   “Where are you going?” I whispered, this time the whisper totally justified.

   “I’m going to investigate.” I didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. “You stay here and keep watch. If you see or hear anything suspicious, let me know.”

   “Okay.”

   He disappeared, the darkness swallowing him, but I could still hear him throughout the house. I stood at the door, peering out the windows next to it, watching for anything that might cause alarm. Minutes passed and my heart slowed and my body started to relax. A car came down the road and my breath caught, but when it slowly drove past, I relaxed again.

   After a while of nothing exciting, I saw a person walking on the sidewalk across the street. They came from the right and when they were directly across from the house, they stopped and turned toward it and seemed to just stare. They were too far away for me to see clearly, but I knew the person was facing the house and not moving. When they didn’t continue on their way, I panicked and went to find Preston.

   “Preston,” I whisper-shouted into the blackness. Not being familiar with my husband’s other home, I was fumbling in the darkness, trying not to run into furniture or walls. “Preston!” I whisper-shouted again. I was walking down a hallway, peering into dim doorways, trying quietly to whisper his name.

   I came to another door and noticed a figure moving inside the room.

   “Preston?” I whispered.

   “Yeah?” he said. I turned into the room and saw a beautiful four-poster king-sized bed. I halted just a few steps in, realizing I was in a bedroom. Most likely,
their
bedroom. A wave of nausea came over me, but was pulled away from it when a warm hand wrapped around my upper arm. “What is it?”

   I blinked, trying to acclimate, trying to see him. “There’s a person across the street watching the house.”

   He didn’t respond right away, but his hand never left my arm.

   “What did they look like?”

   “I couldn’t see them very well, what with the darkness and all,” I said, with more snark than I probably needed. His hand ran down my arm to grasp mine and he led me to the side of the window. He pulled me next to him so our backs were both pressed against the wall and then he leaned over and peeked through the edge of the curtains. After a few seconds, he moved back next to me.

   “There’s no one out there now.”

   “Okay,” I said, whispering still, suddenly very aware I was in a dark bedroom with Preston Reid. My pulse fluttered and I tried to remind myself I was in the bedroom my husband shared with his mistress. I tugged my hand from his grasp and started walking toward the hallway to resume my post at the front door.

   Two things happened in the next few seconds. The first thing was I heard the front door opening down the hall. The unmistakable sound of the key in the deadbolt caused all my blood to freeze in my veins, along with the air in my lungs. The second thing that happened was me being swiftly lifted fully off my feet, with a strong arm wrapped around my waist, and hauled into a walk-in closet. My mouth opened, ready to scream, but then I remembered we were on a stealthy B&E, and clamped my mouth closed before any sound came out.

   I was whisked into the closet and taken all the way to the back. Preston pushed aside shirts and sweaters, bringing us both behind the clothes, then fixed the hangers, trying to hide us. I found myself in the corner, my back pressed up against a wall, and Preston pressed up against my front. He was warm and tall, and magnificently hard. I felt all his muscles pressing against every single inch of my body, and my hands came to rest naturally on his chest, my eyes searching for his in the dark.