Green Fire Page 12

  Joel did not relent in the mastering of her body. He continued to hold her captive while he stoked the fires of her desire. Her legs strained against him, and she twisted with increasing wildness, but there was no escape.

  “Joel! Joel, please, I need you!”

  He ignored the blatant plea until she was gasping for air and the muscles in her rounded buttocks were tight with the effort to arch into his caress.

  “A little longer, sweetheart, a little longer,” he crooned.

  But Shelley was beyond the soothing reach of his voice. “Damn it, Joel,” she bit out, lashes squeezing tightly shut in her passion. “Love me, please love me. Now!” She didn’t think about the words. They were the right ones somehow, but she didn’t think about them. Tomorrow she would think about what she was really asking.

  He kissed the delicate inside of her thigh, his teeth closing gently on the soft flesh, and Shelley cried out once more with unrestrained passion. Then he lifted himself away from her, still using his legs to pin her lower body, and reached into the leather shaving kit for the protection he had assumed as his responsibility.

  When he was ready, he released her, preparing to lower himself fully along her length and complete the union. But Shelley had been wound more tautly than any spring. When he temporarily removed his leg from hers and let go of her wrists, she seemed to explode, swarming over him with a force that pushed him down onto his back.

  She saw the delighted sensuality in his eyes, heard the groan of wonder and satisfaction that began deep in his chest, but she paid no real heed. She flowed across him, straddling his hips with her own and digging her nails into the smooth muscles of his shoulders in an agony of need.

  “Shelley!” He growled her name thickly as he circled her hips with strong hands and pulled her down to join them completely.

  Shelley needed no urging. She was wild, totally abandoned, totally caught up in her flaming need for him. When his body thrust upward, surging into hers, she dung to him, her face buried against his sweat-dampened chest, her fingers clenched fiercely.

  His hands closed around her rounded bottom and propelled her into the rhythm of his need. She gave herself up to the primitive pattern of the ultimate game because the rhythm satisfied her needs as much as it did his. Together they fit each other like the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle, completing, making whole, creating a satisfying picture only they could experience.

  Time seemed to gather itself and then plunge onward toward a bursting escape. Shelley’s senses, heightened to a fever pitch by the erotic teasing Joel had subjected them to, were beyond any recall. They were close to an overload status, and when Joel felt the initial convulsion begin to sweep through her body, he doubled the Intensity of his driving pattern.

  Shelley went violently taut, her nails sharp in the tanned skin they clutched, her head thrown back. The shivering tremors ricocheted back and forth through her body, and somewhere in the middle of the incredible release, she was aware of Joel’s cry of masculine surrender and triumph.

  “Shelley! My God, Shelley!”

  Time, which had been spinning out of control, suddenly stood still. Or perhaps it merely moved on without them. In any event, the two people locked in an embrace on the bed ignored it as they drifted slowly in the aftermath of their passion. The dampness of their still-joined bodies seemed to add somehow to the overwhelming sense of closeness Shelley was experiencing. When she idly touched her fingertips to a tiny rivulet of moisture on Joel’s chest, she wondered at the intimacy of the moment

  “You’re a woman of power,” Joel whispered deeply as she lifted her eyes to meet his. “I feel one moment as if I’ve got you in the palm of my hand, and then you overwhelm me.”

  Gently, reluctantly, Shelley freed herself from his body and snuggled lazily on her side, curling into him. “It was all your fault for teasing me so.”

  “I used to wonder what would happen at the zoo if one disobeyed the rules about teasing the wild cats.” He chuckled. “Now I know.”

  “Learn anything?”

  “Only that I’ll have to try it again sometime.” He grinned.

  She smiled and said nothing, gazing dreamily up at the ceiling.

  “Shelley?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Still trust me?”

  “You said I could until sunrise,” she reminded him softly.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what happens?” she asked huskily.

  “You keep building on what you have until all the pieces fit” He swung himself off the bed. “Lord, woman, you sure know how to weaken a man!” he added in passionate complaint as he made his way across the room to the bath.

  Shelley stared after him. Weaken? Joel Cassidy? She doubted it. He was the one who Had held power in this room tonight, bringing her alive beneath his touch, trapping the passion and feeding it until it broke free to engulf them both. She knew she could not deny the fact that he had been with her every step of the way. He made love with total honesty, total involvement. She could trust him tonight

  Shelley found herself telling him that much over and over during the remainder of the night She gave him her trust until sunrise, freeing herself to give and receive with equal honesty. Again and again Joel rekindled the desire in her and then satisfied it She knew the triumph and delight in him, but she did not begrudge him those emotions because her own reactions were so in tune with them. Here in this bed with him, she felt safe and protected and warm. She would not worry about sunrise when it came.

  It did come eventually, stealing softly into the windows shortly before the alarm clock on the chest beside the bed rattled harshly. Shelley awoke to the noise and the desert dawn, stirring languidly against the lean, muscled shape beside her. One of Joel’s large hands emerged from under the sheet to throttle the alarm.

  “Do you always get up so early?” he growled.

  She grinned wickedly. “Are you always surly in the mornings?” His tousled red hair invited her touch, but she withheld it as he turned his head on the pillow to face her. “I’m like you. Once I’m fed, I’m fine.”

  “Don’t remind me! I’ve eaten more during the past few days than I have for a month. It’s going to start showing soon, I’m afraid.”

  He ran a proprietary hand down the curve of her hip and shook his head with grave certainty. “We’ll make sure you work it off. In any event, I told you I’ve decided I like my women nicely rounded now.”

  She found herself believing the teasing words. He did like her shape, she thought with pleasure. That made her feel good. She threw back the gold and white striped sheets and bounced cheerfully out of bed. “Onward and upward. The day has begun,” she announced, reaching for a persimmon-colored robe as he watched her with lazy indulgence. When she finished tying the sash around her waist, her eyes lifted to meet the possessive gaze he was aiming at her, and Shelley felt a wave of deep shyness go through her. She knew there was red staining her cheeks as she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her.

  Safely under the shower a few minutes later, she relaxed, enjoying (he force of the hot water on muscles that had made known their existence during the night Joel was a lover who believed in involving every inch of his partner in the passion of the moment, she thought ruefully as she became aware of a subtle twinge here and there. But he gave as good as he got. She had never been in any doubt that he was totally involving himself at all times.

  An honest lover.

  A lover who practiced responsibility and integrity.

  A man who could be trusted until sunrise.

  Shelley went still for a moment in the act of scrubbing her face with a washcloth. She had trusted him until dawn. What happened next? She could not go on distrusting him by day and giving herself unreservedly to him by night, surely! Nor did she want such a fragile relationship.

  But what came next?

  Before she could make any decision, the shower curtain was swept aside and Joel was crowding into the tiled stall with
her. “This could lead to all sorts of interesting morning exercises,” he growled deeply, wrapping his arms around her water-slick body and pulling her back against him.

  “A lot of accidents happen in the bath, Joel,” she reminded him firmly.

  “You can trust me. I’m not accident prone.” He nuzzled the back of her neck. “Foresight and planning, remember?”

  She giggled in spite of herself, turning in his slippery grasp to push against him and failing completely. His hands slipped down her back and over the curve of her hip, teasing at the cleft of her derrière.

  “Joel!”

  “Planned, darling, every move is planned,” he drawled.

  “I’ll bet. Cut this out or I shall be very late to work. And since what I do at work involves a hundred thousand dollars of your money, I should think you’d care about promptness!”

  As soon as she said the words, Shelley wished them unsaid. Joel didn’t mind; he only laughed throatily and bent his head to loss her thoroughly. But the words were still in her mind much later when she finally drove herself downtown to the offices of Mason Wells & Associates. A hundred thousand dollars of his money. A piece of property worth five times that much. And a man who was clever enough to put together a game plan that would leave it all in his control.

  But that same man had told her that she could learn to trust him. All she had to do was build on the part of him she already trusted. Take it one step at a time and follow her instincts. She wanted to be able to believe in him, Shelley realized. Wanted it more than anything else in the world, even more than a career as a high-powered accountant and bankruptcy counselor.

  How far could a woman trust her instincts when she was hovering on the brink of love?

  Shelley was parking the car when that last thought flitted through her mind, and it caused her to brake far more sharply than she had intended. In love. Was that what was clouding her judgment?

  “Oh, my God, Joel Cassidy, what have you done to me?”

  The barely mouthed words were accompanied by a movement of her head intended to reject the idea completely. In love. How could she have taken such a huge risk? Or had there been any choice from the beginning? She was on the edge of love, falling head over heels for a man who should never have been allowed to become more than a business associate, and probably not even that if she’d been really intelligent about the matter!

  Last night she had given him her trust until dawn. She had felt safe during the night, sure of her decision. Now sunrise had brought a new day, and she had to think. She had to decide how much more trust she could add to the measure he had demanded from her during the hours of darkness. A little piece at a time—that was the way you put together a puzzle. You built on the part you knew, and she knew she could trust him as a lover.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Shelley shoved open the car door and headed for the main entrance to her office building. Deciding how far one could trust a lover wasn’t the only puzzle that was put together a piece at a time.

  The same principle could be used in business.

  Helping herself to a cup of coffee from the pot Carol had already started, Shelley made her way to her office and sat down to stare at the top of her desk, her brow knitted in thought.

  Sometimes after one started a puzzle, it was useful to back off and come at it from another angle. Had she been taking the wrong angle on the threat to Ackerly Manufacturing?

  What if Joel were being totally honest with her? What if he had no manipulative schemes for Ackerly other than getting back his hundred thousand dollars with interest? What other possibilities opened up if one went on that assumption? How else could that phone call be explained? Why else would someone wish to “compensate” her for dumping Ackerly Manufacturing as a client?

  The questions spun around through her head, gnawing, meshing, raising further questions. There was another possible reason for a phone call such as the one she had received; another reason why someone would wish her to remove herself from the Ackerly picture.

  If one assumed Joel’s innocence, then someone else entirely had instigated that phone call, perhaps implicating Joel deliberately to put her off the track.

  Shelley’s nail tapped the polished desk thoughtfully, forcing herself to examine the new possibility from all sides. Yes, it was an angle that should be thoroughly checked out

  And if it checked out, Joel would be in the clear. She would be able to trust him completely.

  Shelley reached for the phone and dialed Dean Ackerly’s number.

  Chapter 8

  At five-thirty that evening, Shelley sat in a shadowy booth watching the posh bar fill with the lively after-work crowd that patronized it. It was “happy hour,” and the drinks were half price. A huge buffet had been set out to entice the work-weary singles. Shelley had a few doubts as to how many were technically “single,” but that was par for the course. It was a polished, leather-and-wood and hanging-green-plants sort of place, and the people filling it were definitely upwardly mobile: stockbrokers, young corporation types, advertising people. All well dressed, trendy and exuding a self-confidence that didn’t quite mask the underlying air of desperation. The goal of being here this evening was, after all, to attract a mate. Preferably one who wouldn’t make a nuisance of himself or herself by clinging in the morning.

  Shelley absently stirred the margarita she had poured from the pitcher on the table and watched the swinging glass doors expectantly. She saw Dean Ackerly as he walked through a moment later, scanning the room for her. Lifting a hand to silently signal her location, Shelley took a sip of the margarita and watched him stride toward her through the laughing, boisterous crowd. A good-looking man, a man who could handle the swinging scene around him or enjoy the ballet, a man who, with a bit of help from her, would make a success out of Ackerly Manufacturing. But even as she watched him slide into the leather seat across from her, she knew that she would never be able to find with him what she was finding with Joel Cassidy. Proving Joel’s innocence would be the most important job she had ever tackled. Her own heart was at stake.

  “I had no idea accountants hung out in places like this,” Dean teased as he helped himself from the margarita pitcher. “You surprise me.”

  “Sorry, I can’t claim I chose the place from personal experience. I saw a James Bond movie once where the contact meeting between two agents was conducted in a noisy bar. I stole the idea, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, it would be a good bet this place isn’t bugged,” he agreed. “But then, neither is my office. Or yours, for that matter!” He chuckled, glancing around to eye a blonde at the buffet table appreciatively. “Hungry?” he added, turning back.

  “No, thanks,” Shelley said automatically. It crossed her mind fleetingly that Joel wouldn’t have accepted her refusal. Dean did.

  “Mind if I run over and get some potato skins and fried chicken wings?”

  “No, of course not.”

  She watched him move to the buffet table and say a few words to the blonde as he helped himself from several chafing dishes. A charming smile, she thought inconsequentially, and it was having its effect on the blonde, who bubbled enthusiastically. But Dean’s smile lacked that element of boyish wickedness that Joel’s had, and it lacked the slightly crooked tooth, too. Dean’s teeth were quite perfect

  “Okay, Agent X,” Dean declared as he resumed his seat with a full plate, “let’s have the message that is so important it has to be passed in surroundings where neither of us will be overheard or interrupted.”

  “You want the good news first or the bad news?”

  He winced. “How bad is the bad?”

  “Could be bad enough to account for Ackerly Manufacturing’s slide toward bankruptcy,” Shelley told him flatly.

  “You’re kidding!” Dean put down the fried chicken wing in his hand and stared at her. “What’s going on, Shelley? Why the mysterious phone call this morning and all this secrecy?”

  She took a breath and plunged in. “D
ean, I want a full investigative audit of Ackerly’s books, and I want it done with my own team from Mason Wells. I want to walk into Ackerly’s offices first thing in the morning without any warning by you to any member of your staff, and I want all the books.”

  His eyes narrowed as he watched her, stunned. “You’re talking about looking for embezzlement?”

  “Bribes, kickbacks, embezzlement, payoffs, I don’t know what I’m looking for, but whatever it is, it’s enough to make someone offer me a bribe to dump Ackerly as a client!”

  “A bribe!”

  Shelley nodded grimly. “My first assumption was that it had something to do with that loan from Cassidy. His name was mentioned,” she admitted. “But now I have a feeling it could be totally unrelated and that someone is using the Cassidy mess as a red herring. That someone would have to be high up in your management staff in order to know about Cassidy and the land deal in the first place.”

  Dean took a large gulp of his margarita as he considered the news. His grip on the stem of the glass was rather fierce. “What makes you think it isn’t related to the Cassidy loan?”

  This was it. How did you tell a business client that you were falling in love with a man and therefore couldn’t bear to believe him guilty of such conniving and manipulative behavior? Dean would probably dump her as his consulting accountant if she said she trusted Joel Cassidy as a lover and therefore wanted to trust him in every other area of life!

  “It’s too obvious, for one thing. The person who called me to offer the bribe used his name and deliberately made me think that Joel was behind it. Frankly, the man is too damn smart to approach the matter in such a heavy-handed fashion. I think he’d be a lot more subtle about it” Subtle enough to seduce the accountant in charge of saving Ackerly and gain her trust and confidence that way? Shelley pushed the thought aside. She did not want to believe him guilty. She wouldn’t believe him guilty!