Mistake Me Not

Chapter One-2

“I’ve never done this before. I don’t exactly know how—”

“It’s easy. You tell me who you’re looking for, give me as much information about possible whereabouts as you can, and then I go to work.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m looking for a man called Bruce Booth. He used to work for Lewis Fund and Investment in town.”

“I know them,” Ryder said.

Linking his fingers, he rested his forearms on Sheppard’s desk. The pose wasn’t typical, but for some reason, he was concerned his hands would act on their own. Overcome with the need to touch, to feel, his fingers tingled. He’d have to lunge over the desk to do it. That wasn’t exactly professional, though was probably the norm for the man who usually occupied this chair.

“He got a promotion, or a better job, or… something. He left town and I need to know where he is.”

“What about his family? Friends?”

Her eyes slunk to the corner behind him; a classic sign that she was hiding something. “I’m trying to stay under the radar.”

“Right,” Ryder said. “Does he owe you money?”

Her brows came together in a show of curiosity rather than irritation. “Why would you—?”

“Sometimes people don’t want to be found, and a guy in his industry…”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” she said, shifting to the edge of the chair, flattening her fingers on the desk.

Her nails were short and neat, but there was a faint sign of color around her cuticles. A smoky dust not quite removed. She’d awoken his d**k the minute she walked in, now his mind was buzzing with a dozen questions. What was behind those mesmerizing eyes? Where did the chalk on her fingers come from?

“Listen, Dusty, I don’t care about your motives. I need to know if I’m getting into anything illegal or that’s likely to give me trouble.”

“Dusty?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

Her whole face was expressive. She shifted the angle of her head. The pout of her lips. The gap between her eyelids. The muscles of her cheeks. Her forehead. Like a child curious about a world they knew nothing of. How her expression would change if he kissed her? How would those wide, inquisitive eyes look when he sheathed himself inside of her?

“Mr. Sheppard?”

It took him a good eight seconds to realize she was talking to him. “Sorry, what?”

“I can completely understand that you wouldn’t want to jeopardize yourself or your business by getting into any trouble. But, perhaps, this would be an appropriate time to tell you that a good friend of mine referred me to you.”

“A friend?” he asked, wondering if he was about to be made.

“Yes,” she said and blinked as though sorting through her thoughts before speaking. “I wouldn’t want this to be awkward. I can assure you that I would never bring any aggravation to your door. I’m assured that your services are top notch, so I…”

He hadn’t noticed the small strap over her shoulder attached to a tiny bag under her arm. She slid it down into view and opened the clasp to draw out a slip of paper, a check.

“I didn’t know if I should make it out to you personally, or if I should make it payable to a company name.”

She pushed the check the width of the desk. For the first time since she’d entered, he took his eyes away to look at the paper under her fingertips.

“Whoa,” he said when he read it. “This is way too much.”

“Like I said, I want to go under the radar and it’s important.”

When he took his attention from the check, their eyes locked, she didn’t blink. The tip of her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Her shoulder came up as her head tilted. That innocent little expression… He gritted his teeth against the pain in his jeans. Had she ever been taken? A woman like her couldn’t be real.

She sure wasn’t like the women he was used to. Those women knew what they were and how to use their sexuality to their advantage. That worked for him. He got off and didn’t feel guilty about not calling the next day. Both parties knew what they were getting into. Either this woman in front of him took a different angle completely and did it to leave men like him panting like desperate dogs, or she had no idea how luscious she was.

“If it’s not about money, it’s about s*x,” Ryder said, watching her mouth when her lips parted, then she wriggled in her seat. Jesus, this woman was going to have him shooting his load in his pants if she moved again. A man couldn’t be with a woman like her. She didn’t sit still, her eyes, her mouth, her neck… Her body loosened, and he had another first: he wished he was that goddamn chair. “He’s your boyfriend.”

Words were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them in. A curious frown flashed to her face only to be erased when her eyes rolled upward. Her lips moved silently, and then her gaze fell back to his.

“You could say that,” she said.

“This guy ran out on you?”

“Mr. Sheppard, I appreciate that we’re acquainted by proxy but it’s a very difficult situation to explain.”

“Acquainted by proxy,” he said, reminding himself of the referral.

“I do hope that your break-up won’t flavor your angle on this case.”

“My break-up.”

“Yes,” she said. “I told you Sorcha referred me.”

“Sorcha,” he said, wondering when he’d become a parrot.

“She is very sorry about the way things ended between you.”

“Sorcha.”

“Yes, Sorcha Reynolds…” she said. “She assured me that you would be fair. I would hope that the fee would settle any misgivings you may have about working on my behalf.”

Again, Ryder read the zeroes on the check. “Will Sorcha be involved in this case?”

“Oh no,” she said. “No. She’ll stay far away from this. She’s on vacation at the moment, she left just this morning.”

Ryder would hate to see these zeroes in Sheppard’s bank account. Given the chance, Shep would take it. He’d do his best to sample this delectable client too, even in spite of the previous relationship with her friend.

Ryder couldn’t refuse her. If he did, the chances were she’d show up on his actual doorstep. He didn’t want her to know he was in Sheppard’s place unlawfully. What choice did he have? The woman needed honesty and guidance that Sheppard would give for an overinflated price while pawing her.

Ryder had no intention of cashing the check. Chances were that a quick computer search would locate this Booth guy. He folded the check in half and slid it into his back pocket as he stood up. She fumbled with her bag and pounced to her feet. Five seven, but he hadn’t noticed if she was wearing heels. At six two, he was used to towering over women. Usually, he’d prefer his women taller. By itself, height difference didn’t usually prompt him to feel protective. But he wanted to tuck this woman close and keep her there for as long as possible.

“We’re having a problem with our phone connection,” he said. “Our phones and our internet are down. Do you have a pen?” She nodded and retrieved a pen and a receipt from her bag to hand them over to him. He tore it in two, wrote down his cell number, then handed it all back to her. “Write down your number.”

She nodded and scribbled it down. “You’ll call me?”

He took the number. “As soon as I have something,” he said. “One more thing, what’s your name?”

“Lacie,” she said. “Lacie Hart.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said, extending his hand.

Immediately, he wanted to take it back. She tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy, examining the offer for a second before her hand leaped to his. His fingers hadn’t curled all the way around hers when his d**k pulsed again. Busy mentally chastising himself for his reaction to the simple touch, he wasn’t ready for the moment their eyes met.

Neither was she. He saw her feel what he felt. A heat zinged through him, and their hands sprang apart. Damn, that was unsettling.

“Miss Hart,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest, quelling his urge to grab hold of her.

“Mr. Sheppard.”

She thought he was Shep. f**k, he’d forgotten about that. If that zap was anything to go by, this sensation wouldn’t disappear in a hurry… He’d known her five minutes and was already in deep. This ought to be interesting.

Drying her hands, Lacie was satisfied that her heart rate had returned to normal. After that meeting with Sheppard, she’d come home, taken a shower, and worked. Her way of trying to forget the chemical reaction that had fizzed in her belly from the moment his dark eyes first touched hers. Seth Sheppard seemed uneasy but confident. Cool but aware.

His certainty wasn’t what made her fizz. It was the heat in his eyes. Pure, unadulterated desire. Though unvoiced, somehow, she’d known what was on his mind, which wasn’t like her at all.

Under normal circumstances, such an understanding would torment her anxiety, but this time was different. This time she was disgusted with her own body’s reaction to the knowledge of his longing. Part of her wanted to skirt that desk, straddle his lap, and let actions say what words didn’t. In her entire life, she had never been bold. She’d certainly never wondered what a stranger would look like n***d or if he would let her touch, to trace his lines with her vocational fingertips.

Throwing the towel to the back of the couch, she drove her fists into her eyes trying to erase her own traitorous libido. For months, she hadn’t been with a man… no, years. Did she still remember? Yes, the sensation of impotent frustration as her lover grunted and rutted over her for a few minutes before collapsing in a heap at her side. She wouldn’t make a sound, and he wouldn’t even notice.

Sorcha had said Sheppard was good-looking; Lacie was used to good-looking men. She was used to men of flash and no substance. Sorcha had told her Sheppard was useless in bed, so why was she thinking these thoughts? Sheppard was her friend’s ex-lover. Lacie would never go there, not in a million years. Sheppard would have to compare them. If a man was used to prime venison like Sorcha, he’d never be satisfied with Lacie, the fast-food burger by comparison.

Except she’d never go there. The unspoken code wouldn’t allow her to l**t over her best friend’s cast off. The man was shallow and not at all her type. Yet she closed her eyes again to relive the moment their eyes met over their joined hands. It was physical, visceral. So much more intimate than a handshake, but she didn’t know what it was.

Sorcha was on vacation and would be until this was over. Her best friend had never been a good liar. She wouldn’t want to be near her father, mother, or sister because she’d drop herself in it. No doubt about that.

Darkness formed around the grey clouds. Lacie figured she should think about eating. The thought of anything made her stomach roil. Descending to the floor, she lay flat on her back dropping a hand over her eyes. She liked the floor, she liked firm, unyielding surfaces that offered security and stability. The squeal of her phone came from within her purse that lay only inches away.

She reached over to retrieve it. The number on-screen was unfamiliar. Hello?”

“Miss Hart,” the deep male voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m the investigator you spoke to this afternoon.”

“Yes,” she said, annoyed that her thoughts had somehow conjured him. “That was very quick. Have you found him?”

“I’ve got a couple of hits. But I can’t ID him. Do you have a picture that you could send?”

“A picture,” she said, lifting her torso to prop herself against the front of the couch. “If you give me the addresses, I can check them out for myself.”

Amusement floated in his tone. “That’s not how this works,” he said. His voice had gone from drilling her deep to light-hearted. “You gave me a very big check today. I intend to earn it.”

“I don’t have a picture,” she said. “Honestly, if you give me the addresses, I can check them out. If it’s not him then I’ll get in touch, and—”

“One address is relatively local,” he said. “The other is not. I appreciate that you are hesitant to give me the details. But I won’t send a woman such as yourself into unknown territory.”

“Bruce isn’t violent,” she said, wondering what “a woman such as yourself” meant.

“Not the one you know maybe. But I could be giving you dud addresses and maybe those Bruces aren’t as docile.”

“That’s a point,” she conceded. “Is it your plan to go there?”

“To the addresses? Yes. But there’s no point in me staking them out if I don’t know who I’m looking for.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said. No response. “We might not know each other very well, but Sorcha trusts you, and I have no reason not to. It’s about the only thing I can think that will solve the problem.”

“This guy was your boyfriend?”

“I can assure you that you’re not being drawn into a lovers tiff.”

“That’s not what concerns me,” he said.

“What are your concerns?” she asked.

There was a pause before he asked, “When can you leave?”

“Ready when you are,” she said.

“I can pick you up if you give me your address.”

“That is very generous of you. I could meet you at your office if—”

“No,” he said. “I’m not at work. If you’re uncomfortable giving me your address—”

“It’s nothing like that. Sorcha trusts you. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my behalf. If there are any expenses incurred—”

“I think your check today will cover everything. Give me your address.” She did. “I’ll be fifteen minutes.”