Frankie's Back in Town (18 page)

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Authors: Jeanie London

BOOK: Frankie's Back in Town
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CHAPTER TWENTY

F
RANCESCA LOOKED UP FROM HER
computer display, bleary-eyed and exhausted, to find Jack pacing before the window. He held the cell phone against his ear—where it had been for so many hours he’d had to plug the phone charger into the wall.

He’d long ago discarded his suit jacket, tie and shoes, and now paced in his socks, looking rumpled but determined as he ran his investigation from her hotel room. He had to be as tired as she was, but the man was a maniac. Nearly two in the morning and he didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

She and her laptop had been recruited onto Jack’s team. She’d been getting a crash course in law enforcement ever since.

Once they confirmed that Rockport Investment Banking had access to the personal information needed to perpetrate the crimes committed at the lodge, they set about to discover if crimes had been committed at any other properties.

His detectives ran credit checks in Bluestone, and every hit added a new name to her list. Then Francesca matched up the dates and locations of specific purchases to discover that in most cases high-ticket items and cash withdrawals had been made in places far from their homes.

Just like with the Hickmans.

Jack periodically checked her progress and added more names to the list, and as the hours progressed, it became obvious that he and his detectives had blown open an identity theft ring operating on a scale much larger than any of them had imagined.

Jack narrowed down specific employees with access to the growing list of victims—the precise process that had led them to Susanna. But he assured Francesca that now they knew what to look for it was simply a matter of finding it.

Unfortunately, no luck yet, and Francesca couldn’t keep her eyes open another second. The Northstar board would be convening in a few short hours, and she was expected to be there. She needed some sleep. Now seemed like a good time. The effects of the room service meal she’d eaten earlier had worn off, and even caffeine wasn’t doing the trick any more.

She must have nodded off because she jolted awake to find Jack kneeling beside her.

“Go lay down,” he whispered, so close she could make out individual features instead of his face as a whole. The chiseled jaw and square chin. That strong mouth. Those dark eyes that melted every rational objection to keeping her distance.

For one wild, crazy moment, she wondered what would happen if she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.

“You’re falling asleep,” he pointed out.

“I’m tired.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I’ll take a break.”

Even as exhausted as she was, Francesca knew sleeping simply wasn’t possible. Not when she knew Jack would be pacing in the adjoining room, working his case down to its conclusion. No, she’d lie down only to find herself staring at the ceiling, obsessing over what it would be
like to kiss him. She already knew what it would feel like to lie in his arms, pressed against his hard body. What it felt like to be warmed by his body heat, enveloped in his arms. Their closeness and her drowsiness such a potent combination.

“I’ll shower,” she said, trying not to drown in his dark gaze. “That’ll wake me up.”

“You should rest. You’re supposed to be convalescing this weekend.”

She shook her head, and he acquiesced with a wry expression, stood and extended his hand.

Slipping her fingers in his, she rose in a sleepy glide, so close she could inhale his familiar masculine scent. Their proximity dragged an earthy response from her and, again, she felt a wild urge to press forward and kiss him, such a strong impulse she actually felt a tremor low in her belly.

She really did need a shower. A cold one.

“I won’t be long.” Making her way into the bedroom, she hoped the distance would clear her head of all these crazy reactions to this completely irresistible man.

Jack Sloan, maniacal investigator, was chipping away at her good sense, at her determination to resist. She’d seen him soft-edged from sleep. She’d seen him professional and by the book. Now she’d seen his sense of fair play in action, making him intense and determined as he’d run a full-scale investigation from a place as unlikely as her hotel suite.

She’d seen him compassionate and attentive on a snowy mountain. She’d seen him bend the rules, worried about Susanna, a woman he cared about. He worked as hard to prove her innocence as he’d worked to prove Francesca’s.

Jack Sloan—more charming gentleman than charming rogue.

Tonight only proved it.

There was no denying the way she felt right now, so she
fled into the bathroom. The steamy water washed away some of the drowsiness and calmed a lot of her conflict. Her feelings for Jack weren’t a deadline she had to meet or a report she had to tackle. She didn’t have to figure out everything tonight. The
only
thing she had to do right now was stop fighting the way she felt and accept that she felt this way. That was the first step.

Francesca couldn’t control everything. Sometimes it was best to let life unfold the way it was meant to and stop bucking the inevitable and accept.

She’d learned that firsthand.

Which meant she would answer her questions about Jack when she was ready and not a moment sooner. She must content herself with that. Let it be enough.

Another question was miraculously answered when she stepped from the bathroom dressed in a robe. She’d never seen a more attractive sight than Jack lying stretched out on her bed, eyes closed, so perfect he literally took her breath away.

She paused in the doorway, willing to stand there forever in her bare feet with her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She didn’t want to disturb him, or this moment. The moment she came face-to-face with proof that after so many empty years, she could still feel like a woman.

And she
felt.
Profound appreciation for this wildly handsome man. For the fire sparking her insides to awareness.

She felt completely, undeniably alive.

Jack had awakened this inside her, made her dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, there might be something more for her than being a mom, a granddaughter, a hardworking director.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there. She was too blown away by the anticipation stealing her breath as surely as the sight of the gorgeous man stretched out on the bed.

Then he cracked open an eyelid.

Suddenly, he rolled onto his side, appreciation softening his expression as he took in the sight of her.

“We got it,” he said softly, and Francesca was still in such a daze that it took a minute for his words to register.

“You did?”

He smiled. “Not everything we need, but a good, solid connection to start building a case. Susanna’s off the hook.”

Francesca sighed. “I knew it.”

“You were right.”

“You believed me even though I didn’t have anything more than a gut feeling to go on.”

“I had my own gut feeling, and it told me that your gut feeling was right.”

She chuckled, and Jack patted the bed beside him. “Come, sit. I didn’t mean to steal your bed. There was no place else to stretch out, and I suddenly felt how tired I am.”

She shouldn’t get close to this man, not with his voice all low and tempting and all these realizations bouncing around in her head. She should wait and take one step at a time, first accepting she had feelings and identifying what they were then working through the problems one by one, each in its own time.

“I don’t want casual, Francesca. I understand why you might think that, but I don’t want casual with you.”

She was rooted to the spot unable to reply, barely able to breathe. She held his gaze, saw the earnestness there, and realized she wasn’t the only one with all sorts of crazy reactions happening right now.

“I don’t know what I want with you,” he said, the throaty intensity in his voice making her ache, “but I want a chance to find out.”

Five seconds or five years might have passed as she drowned in that determined gaze. She needed to respond,
but for the life of her, couldn’t force out a word, had no clue what to say even if she could.

One step. That’s all he was asking for.

A chance.

“I think you should give it to me,” he said.

And when her reply finally came, it was one she could never have expected.

“Oh, you do, do you?” The words were suddenly there, bubbling out on laughter that expelled all the pent-up emotion, prompted by that easy camaraderie they shared, such a gift.

“Yes. I do.” He frowned, all seriousness. “I understand you’re a mother and will respect that completely.”

Her laughter faded but the smile remained. “Just a chance, Jack? Really?”

“Really. Now come sit and I’ll tell you what broke the case. Give me that chance, Francesca.” Then he was Jack again, that smile splitting his handsome face as he patted the bed beside him. “I’ll behave.”

A chance. That was only one step.

Climbing onto the bed, she leaned back against the headboard.

Jack stretched out again. “We can let Susanna know she’s off the hook first thing in the morning. Northstar, too. I hope that’ll solve some problems for both of you.”

“It should,” she said, relieved. “We’re scheduled to meet with the board at eight. I can’t think of a better time to share the good news. So who is responsible? Can you tell me?”

“No, but I’ll tell you anyway.” Jack propped a pillow behind his head, settling in comfortably.

Francesca gazed down at him, tried to breathe evenly when her pulse was rushing and her heart was beating too quickly.

“A financial analyst. The one responsible for Greywacke Lodge.”

“Daniel Magee?”

Jack nodded. “He’s the man you dealt with for your grandmother?”

“He was really helpful, too. I’m glad we haven’t run into trouble with Nonna’s credit. I’ll pull her reports as soon as I get home to be sure.”

“Good idea. And don’t forget we’ll still be running things on our end to build the case. From what I can assess so far, Magee has been at this a lot longer than Greywacke Lodge has been around. He’s been picking and choosing victims from properties around the country, spreading the wealth to avoid raising flags. He’d probably still be at it if not for the Mystery of the Reappearing Wallet.”

“The
Case
of the Reappearing Wallet.”

He chuckled.

Unwinding the towel, she fingered her damp hair and tried not to think about how she looked with no makeup and her hair solidifying into a mass of frizz. With any luck, she’d frighten him enough to keep his distance. She didn’t need any temptation right now. “Well, the captain will definitely be glad to hear that he blew open the case for you.”

“Give him something to talk about at lunch.”

“You know it.”

“Don’t worry about your grandmother. The bureau will step in now. They’re picking up Magee for questioning as we speak. But we’ll keep digging until we dredge up everything.”

“So what was your solid connection?”

“Identifying Magee’s girlfriend on a security feed from a bank in Arizona. Didn’t even have to wait for the FBI. Randy recognized her from a picture on Facebook.”

“Wow. Who knew social networking could be so productive? I’ll be sure not to tell my daughter.” She chuckled softly. “I’m really impressed, Jack. The Bluestone police work fast.”

She could tell by his smile that her praise pleased him, so she was surprised when he said, “I was thinking the opposite.”

“Why?”

“Because this investigation has been getting in the way of something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

She couldn’t have resisted asking the question in that moment if her life had depended on it. Not with Jack gazing at her, looking for all the world as if he’d been waiting forever to see her. Not when she already suspected she knew the answer. “What’s that?”

“Kiss you.”

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, giving her a chance to get away, though his intention was all over his face.

A chance.

Francesca didn’t want to get away, had no more excuses to resist. So when he lifted his hand to her neck, guiding her toward him as he rose to meet her, she exhaled a tiny sigh and leaned into his touch.

Then his mouth was on hers, warm, demanding. Intimate. A kiss that shattered any illusion of distance between them, proved their mouths were meant to touch this way. A kiss that tasted, discovered, enticed.

Need awoke low in her belly, and she suddenly couldn’t remember why she’d been resisting the way she felt for this man. There was just no denying the chemistry, and for the tiniest moment, Francesca let herself go, giving in to sensation, to the taste of him, the demand of his kiss.

His mouth was hot and hard against hers, as if she was the spark to his kindling. Jack trailed warm fingers down her throat, a caress that coaxed her even closer. She wanted to press against him, knew how he would feel against her. It had been so long since she’d felt alive. Too long. Thoughts scattered in the wake of sensation, all thoughts but one.

How she responded to him.

Jack wanted her. There was no mistaking his desire, his struggle between gentleman and rogue, between control and abandon. Francesca had forgotten how it felt to be desired as a woman, wasn’t sure if she’d ever known this intensity, for every inch of her yearned in this moment,
wanted.

He exhaled, a half breath, half groan, a sound all need and frustration. Sliding his hand down into the curve of her waist, he urged her forward, a position that would bring them closer.

She shifted enough to sink into his arms, unable to deny his urging and her own need in that moment, a need that smoldered through her like a fever. His breath broke against hers as he exhaled a low moan, the sound of pleasure as he anchored her close.

He felt familiar, but this time there was no icy snow, no threat of hypothermia. There was only heat. Nothing but the two of them in a quiet hotel room, far away from families and responsibilities and real life and sanity.

There was no longer an investigation, no question of ethics, no more excuses to fight an attraction that had been building since the moment she’d stepped off an elevator to glimpse a grown-up Jack Sloan.

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