Everything Bared (Six-Alarm Sexy) (33 page)

Gordon pulled out a purchase order from his folder and flattened it on the desk in front of William. “You tell me.”

William blinked at the man, confusion muddling his thoughts. When he read the form, his blood ran cold. His signature was at the bottom of the order for the shoddy wood.

“I ran a search in our database. No design has this specific wood listed in its bill of materials.”

All of Dani’s carefully selected healthy food turned to rot in his stomach as William’s mind made the connections. He scanned the form to see the product line for which the wood had been ordered. The beating of his heart came to a screeching halt when he saw it. “Product number 14670. That’s the Pioneer queen headboard.”

Gordon narrowed his eyes. “Yes. But this wood isn’t in the BOM for that product.”

“I know. This line has experienced a surge in returns in the past six months. And this crappy lumber is the reason.” All the evidence was neatly tied with a bow, pointing straight at William.

He was being framed.

Forcing a neutral tone, he asked, “Does the SFD know about this?”

“About the switch in materials, yes. That you ordered it, no.”

His throat was so tight, he could barely speak. “Do they have a theory?”

Gordon nodded. “The wood was burned to cover up the fraud.”

William’s jaw clenched, along with every muscle in his body. “And you think I did it.”

“Your signature on the purchase order is pretty convincing evidence.” Gordon met William’s glare and sighed. “But no, I don’t think you did it. Your entire family and your girlfriend were at the party. Had the fire gotten out of control, any one of them could have been hurt. I don’t think you’d go that far.”

Damned with faint praise.

“I sign hundreds of these POs a day and quite frankly, most of the time, I have no idea what I’m signing. I assume the supervisors have reviewed and approved whatever hits my desk. Obviously, this is another process that will need to be revised.”

“So what’s next?” Gordon asked.

“Someone is replacing the materials with cheaper ones, but the savings are not going into CFF’s coffers. My auditors have already determined money is being siphoned from the company. Until now, we didn’t have any idea of how. I’ll get this information to my team right away. With any luck, it will lead us to the arsonist.”

Gordon stood and offered his hand. “I’ll let you know if I find anything else. Again, sorry for interrupting your lunch. Firefighter Harris is one hell of a woman.”

William shook Gordon’s hand. “That she is. Please send me all Matt’s medical bills. I’ll cover whatever our insurance doesn’t.”

“Sir, that’s not necessary.”

“I insist. Dani is quite taken with your son, and I want to help him in any way I can. He deserves nothing less.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Gordon turned, opened the door, and came face-to-face with Torval. “How’s your boy doing, Gordon?”

“Much better. Thank you for asking, Stephen.”

William sighed and dropped back into his seat. This day had definitely peaked with Dani’s visit. “Torval, I told you. No more talks without the lawyers.”

“Arnold’s on his way.” Torval looked out into Larissa’s office. “And there he is right now.” Gordon took the opportunity to slip out of William’s office, otherwise known as Grand Central Station.

William indicated the two guest chairs. “Gentlemen.”

Torval, unusually spiffy in a suit and tie, sat in one. Arnold Powell shuffled across the room and dropped heavily into the other. Deep grooves were etched on his brow and on either side of his mouth. What little hair he had was gray and brushed over the top of his head. The greenish cast to his features worried William. He made a mental note to strongly suggest the lawyer take a vacation.

“Okay, Stephen. Let’s hear what’s so important it couldn’t wait until Monday morning,” Arnold said, his voice gruff and laced with impatience. William was glad he wasn’t the only one who’d reached his limit where the union leader was concerned.

Torval straightened in his seat. “The union members of Local 22 would like to lodge a formal complaint against CFF and its CFO, Mr. William Caldwell IV.”

Arnold sighed. “You have copies?”

Torval handed one to Arnold and slid another across the desk. William wanted to smack the smug look off the man’s face. Instead, he forced himself to read the complaint.

“In short, we feel that CFF and Mr. Caldwell were negligent in having the party after there had already been a verified health-and-safety violation.”

“We had firefighters and an ambulance on-site,” William argued, knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself.

Torval scoffed. “They were your family.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“Sure it does. Had the fire been bigger and more people involved, don’t you think their first priority would have been family, namely, the Caldwells? The rest of us would have fried.”

His blood boiling, William shoved to his feet and leaned over the desk, sneering into Torval’s flushed face. “Say what you will about me, but never call into question the integrity of my brothers or any of the other firefighters who were there.”

“Like your pretty little girlfriend?”

William’s teeth ground together. “Leave her out of this.”

“Stephen,” Arnold jumped in. “Is there anything else? So far this complaint is laughable.”

“Too many people were at the party. This is just more proof that CFF is continually cutting corners and putting its employees at risk. Locked doors, fire-suppression systems that aren’t functional, lack of surveillance, etc. What happened Saturday was predictable.”

“It was arson,” William exploded. “SFD checked all our systems only days before and everything was working fine.”

“SFD. Yes.” Torval smirked at William. “What was the name of the firefighter who conducted the inspection? Oh, right. It was Firefighter Harris.”

William slammed his fist on the desk, the sound of flesh hitting wood resounding loudly in his ears. The vibrations chased up his arm, but he didn’t care. He wanted to strangle the smug son of a bitch. “What the hell are you implying?”

“Mr. Caldwell,” Arnold said, his soft voice ringing with authority. “I recommend against this line of questioning. Mr. Torval, this meeting is over.”

Whipping around, William gave Torval his back and stood at the window overlooking Caldwell Fine Furnishings. All his life, he’d wanted to work here, to be part of the family business, to make it better and bigger than any previous generation had. Instead, he was destroying it. Someone was embezzling funds and trying to frame him for it. And he was completely screwing up the union negotiations. At this rate, he’d never get the opportunity to implement his expansion plans. Hell, he’d be lucky if there was anything of the company left by this time next year.

“William?”

He turned around. Arnold was still in his seat, his expression even more grim than when he’d walked in.

“What do you suggest I do, Arnold?”

“You could be facing charges of negligence, embezzlement, and arson. I suggest you get yourself a criminal lawyer.”

William’s heart scudded in his chest and crash-landed against his ribs. He held onto the back of his chair for support as his stomach bottomed out. “You think I’m guilty.”

Arnold scrubbed his cheeks with his knuckles. “I know you’ve worked too hard to get here to throw everything away for a few bucks. Your plans for a low-cost line will earn you far more than you could ever hope to squeeze out of our empty bank accounts right now.” He widened his eyes. “But whoever is behind this isn’t aware of those plans.”

“And that’s a clue,” William said, smiling for the first time since Torval had entered his office.

“Get a lawyer,” Arnold repeated.

“I will. And I’m contacting the cops. We need their help in tracking down this bastard.”

He’d do whatever he needed to protect Dani and his family. He’d go down with the ship, but they were damn well getting on a life raft.

Chapter 15

Leather pants, a leather vest, a leather wrist cuff, and a teeny tiny G-string lay on his bed next to a small box labeled “open last.” A pair of combat style leather boots sat on the floor.

William gaped at the clothing. No way was he putting on that excuse for underwear, and… “There’s no shirt.”

“I know,” Dani called from her room where she was getting ready to go to the fetish club. He couldn’t wait to see what outfit she’d selected for herself.

He picked up the pants—at least they were real leather—and stepped into them. His silk boxers bunched up around his thighs, making him look like he had a really
big
problem. Swearing, he shucked the leathers and his boxers, then fiddled with the G-string until he figured out how it went on. Feeling like the biggest jackass in the world, he stepped into the pants and pulled them up. They fit much better this time. The leather soon matched his body temperature and softened, cupping him nicely in all the right places. Hmm. He could get used to wearing these. He shrugged into the vest and tugged on the boots. The pants were an inch or so too long, but the boots hid it well.

Finally he was ready for the box. His fingers trembled. Okay, not exactly ready, but he’d run out of delaying tactics. He opened the lid and stared at the silver choker resting on a velvet bed. The design was beautiful and sexy, but…

Hearing a noise behind him, he turned and almost dropped the box. “Dani,” he breathed. “You look fucking amazing.”

Dressed in a gorgeous sheer lace dress, she leaned against the door frame. The lace covered her from neck to upper thigh, and strategically placed black flowers kept her nipples from poking through. Black leather boots rose above her knees. “Wait until you see rear view.” She grinned and spun around.

William’s knees buckled and he landed heavily on the bed. “Jesus, woman. Give a guy some warning.” The dress dipped to just above her ass, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. “Where’s my riding crop,” he croaked. “I’m going to need it to beat back all the men wanting to steal you away.”

Dani laughed and came to stand between his legs. “Believe me, you’ll have the women and most of the men falling at your feet in this get-up. Especially when you put this on.” She took the collar. “May I?”

“Does this have any implied meaning I should know about? I mean, I don’t think I’m a sub.”

She chuckled. “Definitely not, and neither am I. If anything, we’re switches. And honestly, I don’t really care what people think. I want to wear your collar and I want you to wear mine.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

“Where is it?”

“What?”

She sighed, feigning exasperation, and arched a brow. “My collar.”

“Oh. One sec.” He reached into the nightstand drawer and lifted out a long narrow box. Tugging her onto his lap, he handed it to her. “I hope you like it.”

With shaking fingers, she opened the box and extracted the black leather collar with rhinestone studs. “Will, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes shone as she hugged him tightly. “Put it on me?”

His eyes closed for a moment as an intense feeling of love and rightfulness gripped him. He wanted to be hers and wanted her to be his, but he wouldn’t give her a ring until he was one-hundred percent sure of their relationship. In the meantime, for him, their collars signified a deep commitment. He loved her and she loved him. Opening his eyes, he took the collar from her, and gently snapped it into place. “Not too tight?” he asked, running a finger between the leather and her creamy skin.

Smiling, she kissed him, her eyes practically glowing. “It’s perfect.” She picked up the collar she’d bought him and carefully adjusted the silver chain around his neck, making sure it wasn’t chafing him. Hooking her hands behind his neck, she kissed him deeply. Emotion poured from her and into him. He tightened his hold on her head and sent his love back to her. The kiss deepened and his cock hardened, pushing against the leather.

“Sweetheart, if you want to go to this party, we’d better stop now.”

She flicked his nipple with the edge of her nail, making him groan. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later, they walked into Club L’Estrange. Dani presented her membership card. They paid their admission fees and William signed the confidentiality agreement. He clasped Dani’s hand and beheld his first fetish party.

A band played on a stage in the corner of a huge room, their music pumping loudly through speakers hung from the ceiling. The room was divided into segments. A dance area was in front of the stage, surrounded by high tables with stools. Further out, and closer to the walls, were various sitting areas with low couches and coffee tables. Interspersed between these areas were pieces of BDSM equipment: a couple Saint Andrew’s Crosses, several spanking benches, low padded platforms he took to be small stages, a few thrones, and a couple human-sized bird cages.

At the far left, a set of steps leading to a lower level was manned by an attendant with biceps the size of William’s thighs.

Lights flashed a rainbow of colors around the room, adding to the festive atmosphere. But what caught his attention the most were the
people
. Dani hadn’t been kidding when she’d said “anything goes.” Couples—and groups—of all genders and sexual orientations danced and talked, kissed and touched. Their costumes ranged from “almost normal,” like his and Dani’s, to “too kinky for this world.”

Dani dragged him over by the wall. She opened her hand, showing him a small velvet bag. “I’ve got a present for you.”

His heart hammered in his chest as he took the bag from her. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled out two silver chains with little clamps on the end of each.

“Do you know what these are?” she asked.

A flush heated his face. “Nipple clamps. Are they for me?” he asked, even though he knew they were. They had the same design as his collar but were made of smaller rings. Clearly a set.

She smiled. “They are.”

“Aren’t they more effective on women?”

“Many men are way more sensitive than they think. May I?”