“No clue about who was there besides us?”
“No.”
“Did they search the house?” Shane asked.
“Yeah. It’s pretty messed up, but we’ll take care of it.”
“The boat’s somewhere on the other side of the river.”
“Okay. We’ll try to get it back. If not, it’s insured.” Max cleared his throat. “And you’re not in danger at the moment?”
“Not at the moment.” He laughed. “I’m not a hostage or anything. I’m just trying to lie low for a few days.”
“Were you hurt?”
“Let’s not get into that,” Shane clipped out, knowing that his answer told his partners he’d been injured.
“What can we do?”
“Elena Reyes’ brother was being pressured to make her turn over some proprietary information from S&D to a third party. If you can find out who wanted it, I’d be grateful.”
“We’re on it.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “And if you could find out what was so valuable, that might also be helpful.”
“You think Lincoln Kinkead’s doing something illegal?” Max asked, picking up on the tone of Shane’s voice.
Chapter 22
Shane glanced at Elena, knowing she was listening to his part of the conversation.
“I don’t know. But it would help to find out.”
He knew Max wanted to keep him on the line, but he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I’m getting off now,” he said.
“When will we hear from you again?” his partner asked.
“I’m not sure. I just wanted you to know I’m okay.” He clicked off.
He looked up to see Elena watching him.
“You think Lincoln Kinkead is doing something illegal?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m beginning to wonder about the way this whole thing was handled.”
“I don’t understand.”
Shane sighed. “He hired someone from outside the company.”
“Because maybe he didn’t think Bert Iverson was good enough. Or he had a bad feeling about him—the way I did.”
“Maybe,” Shane conceded.
“Do you have any idea what Arnold Blake took?”
“No.”
“Do you know about other products the company is developing?”
“Some. They’re mostly for businesses. Some products are similar to Microsoft’s—only S&D’s are easier for non-technical people to use. The way you use their word-processing software makes sense, for example.”
“But this product’s special—and secret.”
She nodded, conceding the point, then said, “You want your partners to nose around and try to find out what it is.”
“Yeah.”
“We have to go back,” she said suddenly.
“But not until I feel like I can defend myself,” he snapped, then said, “Sorry. It’s frustrating having to lie here.”
“I understand.”
“Yeah.” He slid down in the bed so that he was more lying than sitting. “And I’d better get some rest if I want to heal.”
Elena stood and gathered up her mug and the glasses of water she’d brought.
“Better not leave the house,” he said.
“Okay,” she answered.
“We have a big library of CDs and DVDs,” he said. “It’s probably better not to watch anything live—or streaming.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d like to keep this place sealed off.” He gave her a direct look. “And you know it would be a bad idea to call your brother, right?”
“Yes.” She exited the room. He watched her leave, wondering what she thought about the caution.
He didn’t dwell on that. He had only so much energy, and he wanted to think about Lincoln Kinkead, about every interaction he’d had with the man. Had Kinkead set him up? Or what?
Downstairs, Elena focused on washing the mugs they’d used and putting the rest of the soup into the refrigerator for later.
She understood why Shane was being careful about outside contacts. And she understood why he wasn’t exactly in a good mood.
She lay down on the couch and closed her eyes.
Somehow she was able to get a few hours of sleep. When she woke again, she went upstairs to check on Shane.
He had closed the blinds, darkening the room, but she could see he was lying in bed, staring toward the door.
“You’re awake.”
“Yeah.”
“How do you feel?”
“Better,” he answered, but she thought it might be an automatic response. She brought him more of his antibiotic and some water and waited while he took the medicine.
“Do you want some more soup?” she asked.
“In a while.” He held up one side of the covers. “Come here.”
She was surprised by the gesture, but she kicked off her shoes and slipped into bed beside him, on his good side.
He reached for her hand again and tangled his fingers in hers.
As they lay next to each other, he played with her hand, sliding his own fingers against hers and squeezing them, and she found herself responding to just that simple touch.
He turned his head toward her, stroking his lips against her cheek, then nibbling along the line of her jaw, before moving to her ear and stroking his tongue along the interior ridges, then sucking her lobe into his mouth.
No one had ever touched her like that, kissed her like that.
She felt tingles of sensation chase themselves over her nerve endings. She closed her eyes, letting herself ride the pleasure of it for a few moments before whispering, “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying myself.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not? Don’t you like it?”
“I think you know I do, but you’re still recovering. I mean, we shouldn’t be doing anything…physical.”
“Maybe this is helping me get better.”
She felt him shifting carefully so he was half facing her. His lips moved to her neck, playing with her there the way he’d played with her jawline. With one hand, he found the bottom of her sweatshirt, reached under, and moved upward to stroke one of her breasts.
Her breasts felt full and achy, and her nipples were already hard. When he brushed back and forth against them, her breath caught.
“Don’t,” she said again.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re making me…hot,” she managed to say.
“Good.”
As he spoke, he took her hardened nipple between his thumb and finger, squeezing and tugging gently on it, making her breath catch.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because it feels good. And I haven’t had much chance to feel good in the past few months.”
The way he said it tore at her, and though she knew she should stop him, she didn’t do it.
He moved so that he could slip one hand inside the waistband of her sweatpants, then lower, circling her navel and stroking her stomach, then her thighs, before slipping into the folds of her most intimate flesh.
“You’re so nice and wet for me,” he murmured.
She made a small sound, half embarrassment and half arousal. No one had ever focused on her pleasure like this. No one had ever teased her and tormented her this way. He didn’t rush what he was doing, only glided his finger up and down, dipping into her vagina, then up to her clit, making it throb with need. And all the while, he kept his other hand on her breast, playing with her nipple.
He was watching her, and she felt more exposed than when she’d been naked making love with him. Unable to deal with that intimacy, she squeezed her eyes shut.
She heard her breath coming in gasps, felt her hips rising and falling to increase the friction as he sent her higher and higher toward orgasm.
Then she felt her body contract and gasped as climax grabbed her.