Unfinished Business (6 page)

“Yeah, that’s what I figured, and I’m sure Kevin was to blame. I’m just glad Mr. Maxwell was there. He knew just what to do. And he was really protective of you. I was OK with letting you leave with him. But I have a feeling that he would have taken you with him whether I approved or not.”

Christy nodded, knowing that was probably true. “Yes, more than likely he would have. Alex is a good friend of my brothers. He’s also a former FBI agent, so he’s used to taking charge and doing things his way,” she said quietly.

“A former FBI agent? Wow! That explains a few things.”

Christy raised a brow. “A few things like what?”

“About what happened to Kevin. After Mr. Maxwell carried you out of the club—”

“What do you mean, he carried me out of the club?”

“Just what I said, he carried you out in his arms. It was like a scene from one of those romantic movies.”

Christy rubbed a hand down her face. This was worse than she’d thought. “Now what about Kevin?” she asked, deciding the less she knew about Alex carrying her out of the club the better.

“He staggered out of the men’s room after the two of you left. Someone had worked him and his friend over pretty good. But it appeared Kevin got the worst of it. If Mr. Maxwell was involved in a brawl with Kevin and his friend, I don’t recall seeing a scratch on him anywhere. And you’d better believe I checked him out real good. There wasn’t even a bruised lip.”

Christy sighed. She didn’t want to tell Shemell that Alex had a bruised lip now, thanks to her.

“I couldn’t believe a man could look that darn good. Do most men in Texas look that way?”

Shemell’s question recaptured her attention. “Look what way?”

“Drop-dead gorgeous, like you’d love to have one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, someone who takes making you drool to a whole other level.”

Christy shook her head. Evidently Alex had made quite an impression on Shemell. “Yes, I guess, pretty much.” She didn’t want to say that in her book Alex was in a class all by himself. For her he’d always been.

“Does he have any brothers?”

“Yes. Trask Maxwell. But he’s married to my cousin Felicia.”

“Trask Maxwell?
The
Trask Maxwell? Former NFL great?”

Christy couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, that’s him.”

“Wow! I remember one of my older male cousins having his jersey. And he’s married to your cousin?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, what are you all trying to do? Keep it in the family?”

Christy rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “There’s nothing going on between me and Alex. We’re nothing more than friends.” And even saying they were friends was really stretching it. Although he had gotten her out of a tight spot last night, she could not forget that he was the man who had crushed her heart and trampled her pride.

“Some friend,” Shemell said. “I’d love to have a friend like that.”

“Well, look, Shemell, I have to go. Thanks for calling and checking on me.”

Christy decided not to tell her that Alex was in her kitchen preparing breakfast. She was hungry and whatever he had whipped up smelled good. There was no doubt in her mind that he could cook, since, like all of her brothers’ friends, at one time or another he had been a student—whether willing or not—in Gramma Laverne’s cooking classes.

“That’s what friends are for. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in all weekend and read ‘The Patterson Report.’ ”

Shemell chuckled. “Why? It’s all fiction.”

“Yeah, probably, but I thought I’d read it just the same.”

“OK. If you need me for anything just give me a call.”

“I will.”

After she hung up the phone, Christy sighed deeply. Once Alex fed her and took her to get her car, there would be no reason for him to hang around. After all she’d heard about what had happened last night, when he left she would look forward to a relatively long, quiet, and boring weekend.

 
Trained to hear even the slightest sound, Alex turned when Christy walked into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and looked at her. The lounger she was wearing made her look sexier than was probably legal. It wasn’t that the outfit was blatantly seductive, but on her it just looked that way. Add the coloring of her hair framed around her face, along with her dark brown eyes and willowy curves, and he couldn’t help the increased beating of his heart as well as the sizzling of his heated blood through his veins.

He had needed time alone and had gotten it while preparing breakfast. Now seeing her brought a lot of things into perspective. Over the years he had dated but had been careful not to mislead any woman into thinking he had more to offer than just going out and having a good time. He’d been too busy establishing Maxwell Investigative Services to even consider more than that. And he’d always been an ace at keeping a firm rein on his tightly controlled emotions. But he was finding that when it came to Christy she could wreak havoc on them each and every time.

Like now.

More than anything he wanted to cross the room and pull her into his arms and hold her and kiss her. Then he wanted to pick her up and carry her into the bedroom and make love to her, all day and all night.

“Something smells good.”

Her words intruded into his thoughts and reminded him he was standing there staring at her. “I made Texas quiche and I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I felt lucky that you had all the ingredients I needed.”

God, she loved Texas quiche. Christy smiled as she crossed the room to the refrigerator. Most people needed coffee first thing in the morning. She needed her glass of apple juice. “Gramma Laverne would have my hide if I didn’t keep a stocked kitchen. Besides, cooking is more cost-effective than eating out each day.”

Alex nodded, knowing money was the last thing Christy had to worry about. He knew that because of her uncle Jake Madaris, financial wizard and genius as well as wealthy Texas rancher, Christy had a nice investment portfolio. Jake was her financial adviser just as he was Alex’s. He couldn’t help but admire her for not being overextravagant when she could do so without any problems. Instead, she had a charming apartment in a nice area of town. What he liked most about her place was that she had decorated it modestly, sticking to the basics and making it a home instead of a museum.

Christy turned from the refrigerator and looked at him. “Need anything out of here while I have the door open?”

“No thanks. I have the coffee going. That’s what it takes to kick my butt into gear every morning.”

She closed the door, not wanting to think about his butt. From the time she’d hit puberty, Alex’s butt had fascinated her. After he’d left for college she looked forward to his returning during the summers, when she would catch glimpses of him jogging around the neighborhood. She had found out just how good tight sweats could look on some men.

“So you gave up the peanut butter but not the apple juice.”

Christy chuckled as she poured a cold, tall glass of the juice. As a kid she had loved peanut butter and apple juice with a passion. “Hey, there are some things a girl can’t give up.”

He returned her smile. “Evidently.” Then he said, “I heard the phone but thought it would be best if you answered it.”

She nodded. “It was my friend Shemell, calling to make sure I was OK. She thinks I indulged in too much to drink last night, and I’m going to let her continue to think that. I prefer she not know what really happened.”

She glanced around, not at all surprised at how well Alex had made himself at home in her kitchen. It was his way. While growing up he had spent just as much time over at her house as he did in his own, so making himself comfortable at any Madaris place probably came second nature. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“No. Everything is ready.”

“You didn’t have to fix breakfast, but I’m glad you did. I’ve wanted to taste someone else’s food for a change.”

Alex chuckled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s why I’m glad I have a standing invitation over to Trask and Felicia’s place,” he said, carrying a covered platter over to the table.

“And how are they?”

Alex glanced back over his shoulder. “They’re doing fine. Austin is getting tall, and Madaris is simply beautiful. The last time I was over there she was trying to walk already.”

Christy grinned. “How old is Madaris now?”

Dimples appeared in Alex’s cheeks when he turned around and smiled. “Almost ten months, and we’re calling her Aris for short.”

“I can’t wait to see her when I come home in a couple of weeks.”

Alex glanced over at her. “You’re coming home?”

“Yes, just for the weekend to attend Blade and Slade’s birthday party.” Her twin cousins would be celebrating their thirtieth birthday in a few weeks.

Thinking that she could at least take the tray of hot rolls to the table, Christy tried making herself useful. “These smell good,” she said.

“I’ll take that. The tray is warm,” Alex said, reaching out and taking the tray from her hand. Their fingers brushed in the exchange and their gazes immediately connected. They both went still.

Christy swallowed. This wasn’t good. She was working hard to get over Alex and his presence, his closeness, his masculine scent. And the way he looked walking around in her kitchen barefoot wearing jeans and a shirt was enough to send all of her emotions into overdrive.

“I guess we should sit down and eat now,” he said huskily, his voice low and breaking into her thoughts.

“Yes, I guess we should.” He was holding her gaze way too long, she thought. But then, she was also holding his. It seemed like everything around them had gone quiet and they were cocooned into private, intimate space. A powerful sexual attraction existed between them. But this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. When it came to Alex, there had always been more to her feelings than a mere sexual attraction. When he had taught her to ride her first bike when she was six, she had felt a bond between them.

A bond that had meant more to her than to him
.

She took a step back and tried to think of something to say to break the heated moment. “Is there anything you need me to bring to the table?” she asked, glancing around.

Alex stared at her for a while, knowing what she was trying to do and for the moment letting her do so. “No, that’s about it, unless you want me to bring you the pitcher of apple juice.”

“No, I can get it. You pour your coffee.”

“All right.”

But neither made an attempt to move. Then Christy watched as he took a step forward, closing the distance she had placed between them. His gaze held hers and he lowered his head slowly, hesitated, then lowered his head still more.

She studied his lips so close to hers, the bruise she had inflicted the night before. Then seemingly of its own accord, her tongue darted out and she ran it lightly, gently, over his lips, soothing the part she had bitten, and when she heard a deep groan emit from his throat seconds before his lips parted she slipped her tongue inside his mouth.

Alex took over from there. He pulled Christy closer to him, needing to feel the length of her against him, needing her in his arms, needing her taste everywhere in his. Like an alcoholic who knew he was taking his last drink, he sipped her, then lapped her like she was the sweetest brandy he’d ever tasted. He was becoming addicted to her taste. What they were sharing was delicious as well as dangerous.

He knew he had to slow down. Alex slowly pulled back and felt Christy sigh against his lips. “Did I hurt your mouth again?” she asked in a low, hushed tone.

“No, you didn’t hurt it,” he replied, holding her gaze, then allowing it to drift downward to her lips, wet and moist from his kiss. “We really should eat so we can go get your car.”

She nodded. “OK. You get your coffee and I’ll get my juice.”

Christy moved away from him and Alex stood there and watched her go. He would be leaving to return to Texas in a few days, and before he left he intended for them to have that conversation, the one she didn’t want them to have.

Five minutes later they were sitting together at the table eating the breakfast that Alex had prepared. As far as Christy was concerned, she’d screwed her head back on straight and was determined that another kiss between her and Alex wouldn’t be happening.

She glanced across the table at him. He hadn’t said much since they’d sat down. Chances were he was thinking the same thing that she was:
Why waste perfectly good kisses on each other when they don’t mean anything
?

“That ‘Patterson Report.’ What’s going on with that?”

Christy lifted her head and met Alex’s gaze. She hated it whenever his dark, penetrating stare bored into her like this. It always did something to her insides. “I’m initiating an investigation to see what’s fiction and what’s real. Did you read it?”

“Yes, I read it. Not all of it, but enough.”

“What do you think?” As a former FBI agent and now private investigator, Alex was skillful and sharp. On numerous occasions he had been instrumental in saving people’s lives, even members of her own family. She shuddered, remembering when a madman had wanted her uncle Jake dead. It had been Alex who had figured out the man’s identity in time to save her uncle’s life.

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

She smiled. His expression told her what that opinion was. “That Mrs. Patterson’s not wrapped too tight, right?”

“No, I don’t think that way at all.”

Christy lifted a brow, surprised. “You don’t?”

“No. The FBI has used psychics on a number of occasions to help them locate missing people. Although I’m not totally convinced of this woman’s claim that her daughter, who she believes is dead, is coming to her in her dreams, I wouldn’t discount her theory about the kidnappings. There are known cases of young women disappearing, never to be heard of again. If you recall a few years ago, that would have been Corinthians Grant’s fate had Trevor, Ashton, and Sir Drake not figured out what was happening and intervened.”

She did remember. She was away at school at the time but had heard the entire story when she came home for a visit. “But how would Mrs. Patterson know about the kidnappings if not for her dreams?”

Alex leaned forward. “People can dream about a lot of stuff that does happen. Dreaming about girls being kidnapped doesn’t add credit to her story. There has to be proof of a connection; something very compelling that she couldn’t have known about unless she’d had inside information.”

He took a sip of his coffee and then added, “I didn’t see anything
that
compelling, but there were a number of things I found rather interesting and need to be checked out further.”

“What?” she asked, curious what those things were.

“It seems that every time Bonita supposedly visits her mother in a dream, it is to warn her of an impending abduction. Since all the other reporters assumed what Morganna was telling them was pure fiction, they never took the time to follow up to see if a kidnapping actually took place. What if there were kidnappings like Morganna predicted?”

Christy sighed. Now there was a thought. She then remembered what Mrs. Patterson had told her about another kidnapping that was to take place, and that the young girl’s name would be linked to Christmas in some way.

“This won’t be an easy investigation, Christy.”

Alex’s words intruded into her thoughts. She met his gaze. “No, but I intend to find answers. I won’t file this report away like everyone else has done and do nothing.”

Alex chuckled. “No, I didn’t think that you would.”

Deciding they had discussed the Patterson Report enough, Christy said, “Breakfast was great, Alex.”

“Thanks. When you get ready we can go pick up your car.”

“All right.” A part of Christy really didn’t want to go near the club again, not even to the parking lot. She would always be reminded of what had happened there.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Alex said quietly, “Put it behind you, all right?”

She met his gaze; her chin was propped on her fist. “I’m going to try.”

Alex nodded, knowing that she would.

It was around noon when Alex returned to his hotel. Instead of following her back to her place, he decided to go to the hotel to shower and change.

He wasn’t at all happy that she had turned down his invitation to dinner again.

He threw the keys on the desk. If Christy thought she’d seen the last of him, then she had another thought coming. If space was what she needed then, he would give her that, but he would see her again before returning to Texas. And he fully intended to return to Cincinnati in a couple of weeks.

He picked up the phone to retrieve his messages when he saw the red light flashing. Both were from his office.

He hung up the phone five minutes later, annoyed. He had received a subpoena to appear in court on Monday regarding a case he’d worked on. That meant he needed to return to Houston immediately to prepare with the attorneys.

Sighing heavily, he picked up the phone and dialed Christy’s number, which he had already committed to memory.

“Yes?”

“Christy, this is Alex. Something has come up and I’m flying back to Houston tonight.”

“Have a safe trip.”