Authors: Audrey Alexander
Tags: #billionaire, #romance, #romantic suspense
Sighing, she twisted back toward Sarah, but her eyes caught on a girl standing by the door and sliding into a dark brown coat. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, heavy makeup, young. Recognition buzzed in Carrie’s brain, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.
As the girl yanked open the door and let in a frosty gust of wind, Carrie suddenly remembered where she’d seen her before. It was the girl from Jace’s phone. Madison. His disappearing alibi.
Carrie jumped up from the table and grabbed her coat. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I have to run. Drinks are on me next time.”
Before Sarah could protest, Carrie was out the door, her heels click clacking on the sidewalk as she followed the girl down the street. She turned her collar up against the cold and kept her eyes firmly on the dark brown jacket half a block ahead. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. Now that she’d volunteered herself as Jace’s alibi, it wasn’t as though they needed this girl to make a statement.
That didn’t stop her feet from moving. She darted through a family of tourists and turned down the next block when the girl did the same. Whoever was trying to frame Jace, Carrie was certain this girl knew about it. The lights and noises of the city became muted as they walked further away from the busy avenue.
Finally, Madison stopped at a run-down old brownstone, jogged up the steps, and disappeared inside. Squaring her shoulders, Carrie followed and paused at the base of the stairs, looking up to see the third floor light flick on through curtained windows. The girl must live there, Carrie realized. She’d had keys, and no one had been in the room upstairs before she went inside, or the lights would have already been on.
Carrie quietly made her way up the stairs and peered at the intercom system just beside the door. The name next to the bell for number three read “Holland”. Her stomach twisted at the name. She thought about ringing the bell and questioning the girl right then and there, but that would only tip off whoever was behind this.
And it was starting to look like someone related to the victim. Holland wasn’t exactly a common last name.
No, she needed to be smart. Develop a plan. As soon as she approached Madison—if that really was her name—she’d go straight to whoever had put her up to luring Jace away from his penthouse that night. And then she’d probably disappear. Carrie had one shot to talk to the girl, and it could make all the difference in the world to Jace’s case.
She needed to be cautious. She needed to talk to Jace.
When the phone rang, Jace was already into his second gin and tonic. He almost ignored it completely. It was way after work hours after all, and there were no pressing matters to deal with. He now owned the Times Square building, so it couldn’t be about that. It might be the police again, of course, but his disdain for their capabilities was growing with each passing hour. They still had no idea who had broken into his hotel and left a dead body on his floor, and he was fairly certain he was the only one they’d brought in to question on the matter.
Like
he
would leave such an obvious mess if he’d done the deed.
And then there was Carrie. He didn’t want to think about that. He tipped back his drink and gulped it down.
His phone began to ring once again, a shrill annoying noise that made him sigh. Whoever wanted to speak to him wasn’t giving up. He grabbed his cell from the coffee table and read the display. His body turned to stone. It was Carrie.
“Yes?” he answered in a cool and indifferent tone.
“Jace, I’ve found something.” Her voice sounded hushed but on the edge of delight.
In the background, taxis honked, and he wondered why she hadn’t gone home to do work like she’d said. She’d turned him down because her career was more important to her than he was, yet she was still out, somewhere in the city. He gripped the phone tighter in his hand and eyed the gin bottle on the coffee table. Another drink might be needed after this call.
“I was under the impression that you were going home to do work this evening,” Jace said.
“Sarah took me out for a couple of after-work drinks because she saw how upset I was.” Carrie cleared her throat. He could hear her heels clacking on the sidewalk, quickly, like she was moving fast. “That’s not important. I saw her, Jace. I saw Madison.”
Jace sat up straight. “You saw her. Where?”
“At a bar.” Carrie paused as another taxi belted in the background. “Listen, I followed her to what I think is her actual apartment building.”
“That was foolish,” Jace said, standing from the couch and squeezing his fist by his side. “You could have been attacked again.”
“She didn’t see me. No one did.” Carrie took a deep breath and continued. “I almost tried talking to her, but then I thought better of it. We don’t need her as your alibi now, but we need to find out what she knows.”
“Where does she live?” He wasn’t sure what he would do with the information, but he had to know.
“Midtown East, down fifty-seventh street and almost to the river. Third floor. Why do you want to know? It’s a bad idea for you to go and talk to her. You should let me do it.”
“I won’t have you going near her,” Jace said in a low voice. “You don’t put yourself in harm’s way like that again.”
“Why the hell did you want me to be your lawyer if you don’t want me to do my job?” Her voice grew louder as the tempo of her heels against concrete increased.
“It’s not your job to interrogate dangerous people,” Jace said, keeping his voice calm, though he was anything but. Carrie had come so close to going into Madison’s apartment. Madison, who had to be involved in this murder. Carrie could have been hurt. She could have been killed. He didn’t know what Madison was capable of, or if she was just a pawn in a bigger game, but he wouldn’t let Carrie find out.
“Well, someone has to do it,” Carrie said, voice still on edge. “And it’s not like we can tell the police about it, since we said nothing about her in your statement.”
“And who’s fault is that? I didn’t ask you to lie and say you’re my alibi, Carrie.”
“You certainly didn’t put up much of an argument!” She was almost yelling now, and it made him want to reach through the phone and pull her into his arms. Everything inside him desired to have her there with him right now, to take all her frustration away. He wanted to carry her into his bed and make her forget all about alibis and girls named Madison and murders. She’d be safe with her legs wrapped around his hips. Safe and
his
.
“Come over here. Now.”
“What?” she asked in a gasp.
“Come over here right now.”
“Sex can’t be your answer to everything.” The click of her heels faded away, replaced by her breath on the phone.
“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”
The only response she gave was silence, her heavy breath the only sound other than the familiar noises of the city in the background. He was giving her one last chance to be his. It was now or never. If she didn’t want him, then so be it. But she had to make a choice.
“Tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she finally said in a whisper.
“Then get over here and get in my bed,” he said before clicking off the phone. He’d made himself clear. Either she would come to his penthouse and give herself to him or she wouldn’t. His body yearned for her, and she’d just admitted she felt the same. Tonight, he would show Carrie exactly what kind of pleasure he could provide if only she would stop battling against the overwhelming electricity she knew they had, and once he did, she’d never want to leave his bed again.
In the meantime, he had something he needed to take care of.
Carrie found herself in the lobby of The Grand Rizzato, wondering when she’d let lust take over her brain. As soon as her heels sunk into the plush maroon carpet, chandeliers sparkling overhead, the concierge who had delivered their dinner two nights before stepped forward and ushered Carrie upstairs. When they reached the top floor, Carrie expected Jace to be waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s just stepped out for a moment, Miss Simmons,” the concierge said. “He said that you should make yourself at home.”
Glancing around at the sleek yet sterile room, Carrie kicked off her heels and settled onto the couch. She couldn’t believe she’d come here. In the heat of the moment, it had seemed like such a good idea. Or, rather, an impossible thing to turn down. She’d ached to feel the spark of his touch, and that desire had carried her all the way uptown.
Now that she was here, alone, doubt tickled the back of her mind. Why hadn’t he waited to see if she would come? Why had he left when he’d been expecting her to come running into his arms?
The door swung open, and Jace stepped inside the penthouse. Her stomach twisted at the sight of him, dark eyes, dark hair, dark suit. Strong and powerful and sharp. His gaze settled on her, lit with that fire that left her weak in the knees. His lips twitched when he saw her on the couch, and he pulled his arm out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of roses.
“I knew you’d come.” He took long strides toward the couch and held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“I thought you weren’t a flowers kind of guy.” Smiling, she took the roses from him and inhaled their sweet scent.
“Sometimes there are exceptions to the rule,” he said with a smile before unbuttoning his jacket and sliding it from his shoulders. He tossed it onto the couch next to her, an ordinary action, but for some reason, it didn’t feel so ordinary to Carrie. Breath caught in her throat, she stood, her bare feet sinking into the carpet.
“Come here,” Jace said. Not a request, a demand. A thrill ran through Carrie’s veins as she walked the length of the couch toward Jace. Before she reached him, he snatched her wrist and pulled her close. She stumbled, falling into his chest, heart thundering in her ears.
“Look up at me,” he said in a soft, low voice.
She did as he commanded, tipping back her head so that she could meet his eyes. They churned with heat, and her breath quickened even more. Every muscle in her body felt impossibly weak.
“Tell me you want this.” Jace tucked a finger under her chin. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I want this,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’m yours.”
Everything inside her begged to be touched. Nothing else mattered but Jace. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, and a second later, he had his hands on her ass while he lifted her from the floor. Carrie gasped and wrapped her thighs around his hips and her arms around his neck.
His lips were on her, kissing, licking, biting. Tongue trailing from her neck to her lips, he slid his hands into her hair and twisted the strands between his fingers. Her head tipped back, and she moaned. Every cell in her body felt as if it were ready to explode. The scent of him overwhelmed her. Musky and strong, a hint of cologne mixed with gin.
Jace carried her across the open penthouse loft, and her thighs tightened around his waist. A groan escaped from his throat, his fingers tightening around her legs. Just as she pulled back to look into his face, Jace reached the wall and pushed her against the cold stone. With one hand still on her ass, he pressed into her, his erection rubbing against her lace thong. An ache began to grow where he touched. She buried her face in his shoulder, so overcome with lust, she could barely breathe.
He let go, still pressing her into the wall while he ripped open her shirt. His eyes flicked over her body, adoring and appreciative of her curves.
“Let me see you,” he said.
Carrie pulled off her shirt, unzipped her skirt, and let the material drop to her toes, so that she was now left with nothing but her lacy bra and thong. Jace had stepped back, his own shirt now a crumpled puddle on the floor. His abs rippled as he moved back in close, the muscles in his arms tensing as he pushed her hands over her head and whispered into her ear.
“You have been a naughty girl, Carrie.”
A thrill went through her body, and the place between her thighs grew wet. Groaning, she tried to wrap her legs back around him, but he pulled away just in time.