Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Emma woke alone, surprised to discover the afternoon sun peeking through the blinds. She’d held Cole close as he slept, soothed him when nightmares claimed him. It had been more than an hour before she’d been able to sleep, haunted by memories of his haggard face and bloodshot eyes. His voice replayed again and again in her head. “Something’s wrong.”

Rising, she hurried into the bathroom to brush her teeth and run a comb through her hair. When she emerged, cloaked in the luxurious hotel robe, she stopped in disbelief at the sound of voices in the next room. Cole’s deep laugh was joined by another voice. A female voice.

Cherise.

Emma quietly opened the door and stopped, unable to believe her eyes.

He sat in the white easy chair nursing a scotch, while Cherise perched on the square table. Her palms rested on his knees, while her fingers caressed the muscles of his lower thighs, massaging muscles encased in black jeans. She smiled adoringly at him and spoke in a low, soothing voice.

“Cole, darling, you’re so tense. Don’t worry. I can help you relax.”

Hell, no.

She turned back into the bedroom and called Joey.

…

Cole stared into Cherise’s big blue eyes; the sound of her voice seemed to fill the room although she spoke softly. The scent of her perfume had thankfully dissipated; the overpowering floral bouquet had assailed him the moment he opened the door to find her standing in the hall. He regarded the half-empty glass of scotch between his palms. It was hard to think clearly.

“Oh, Cole, I’m so sorry. I know how you trusted Emma to keep her distance from Grant. I’m so sorry Emma didn’t trust you with the truth. And to worry not only you, but also poor Joey.” Cherise lifted one hand from his knee to run a manicured fingernail along his hand in commiseration. He found himself fascinated by the gaudy ring she wore. “Of course, it was obvious during your last visit that Jacob comes first with Emma, no matter what he’s done. I just hate to think she would use Grant the way Jacob used me. I know you’ve only been together a short time.”

She caressed his hand as tears shimmered in her eyes. “But betrayal hurts no matter how little basis you have for trusting someone.”

He said nothing, tossing back the remains of his drink. It hurt to hear it, but it was true. Her approving voice lulled him into a sense of calm even as anger grew. He had a right to be angry, and it felt good to be with someone who realized it.

He watched as she took his empty glass to the bar and poured him another two fingers. It was still afternoon, but he didn’t care. After all, it was always happy hour somewhere. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, pretending he hadn’t used that same excuse yesterday. She returned with his drink, and he raised the glass to his lips, startling when a sharp voice pierced the pleasant fog in his head.

“Stop!” Emma’s voice cut across the room as she emerged from the bedroom wrapped in the plush hotel robe, the pale pink color accentuating the becoming blush in her cheeks. As angry and confused as he was, Cole couldn’t help but notice that she was magnificent. He raised his glass to his lips again.

Cherise looked up in surprise but didn’t move from her spot in front of him. “Emma? What in the world are you doing here?”

“You’ve had enough to drink.” Emma snatched the scotch from Cole’s hand, sloshing liquid onto his clean shirt.

His eyes narrowed. What the hell was her problem?

“Get up!” Emma’s strident tone reverberated in his head.

Whoa. He recognized that voice. His not-but-might-be-girlfriend was pissed.

“It’s time for you to leave, Cherise. Now.” Emma waved toward the door with a grand sweep of her arm.

Cole watched, fascinated when Cherise refused to budge. Emma stormed over to the small kitchen. He was pretty sure he should say something, but Cherise beat him to it.

“You can’t kick me out. Cole invited me in.” She grasped his hand and held it tight.

Emma jerked open one cabinet and then another, until she found what she wanted. She yanked mugs out and smacked them against the countertop. Next, she turned on the faucet and started the coffee maker before turning back to face them, his now empty scotch glass in hand.

“And I’m inviting you out. You.” she pointed at Cole with the scotch glass. “No more drinking. And you.” She pointed at Cherise. “Listen up. Whatever you’re trying to do, it’s not going to happen.” Slamming the glass down on the counter for emphasis, she continued. “You’re not Cole’s type. Cole has one type, and it’s very specific. Emma. That’s his type.”

Cherise laughed. “Since when? You barely know the man.”

“Since right now. Now get out.” She rested her hands on her hips.

“Cole? You can’t let her talk to me, to us, like that.” Cherise looked at him, seeking support.

What was he supposed to say? When Emma was right, she was right.

“Sorry, Cherise, you’d better go. The woman is right. Emma. That’s my type.” In a distant part of his mind, an alarm sounded. He wasn’t a guy who had mood swings, but damn, he was all over the place.

What the hell, he’d just go with it.

“Nothing personal, Cherise.” He withdrew his hand and tried to smile sympathetically, but must have gotten it wrong because Cherise got up in a huff and flounced toward the door.

Cole watched in reluctant amusement as Emma practically shoved her out of the suite. Before she shut the door, a concerned-looking hotel employee appeared and handed her a small bottle. He frowned in confusion as she thanked the man, then closed and locked the door.

“Hey, Emma,” he called and closed his eyes. “That wasn’t very nice of you.” He tried to work up some solid indignation. He was mad at her, wasn’t he?

“Get up.”

He opened his eyes to find Emma standing in front of him, the small bottle clutched tightly in her fist. With her free hand, she grabbed hold of his arm and tugged hard.

“Cole, get up now.”

Her urgency penetrated the sense of contentment that had settled in his brain. He rose to follow her.

“Okay, little woman, if you insist. I like mornings.” He leered at her, confusion setting in as they headed toward the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Ah well, this was nice. He liked an adventurous woman.

They stopped by the sink, and she opened the bottle in her hand. “Drink this. All of it. Quickly. Now.”

Obediently, he raised the small bottle and chugged—and promptly vomited the contents of his stomach into the sink, retching again and again until there was nothing left. He looked up in time to see her emerge from the bedroom.

She filled a glass with water. “Rinse.”

He looked at her with bleary eyes. “Why’d you do that?” He rinsed his mouth, then took the wet cloth she handed him and ran it over his face as she flushed out the sink. Picking up the small bottle and reading the label, he recognized the same stuff Lizzie carried in her small arsenal of first aid and poison control items. Why had the hotel guy given Emma this? More importantly, why was Emma giving it to him?

He should have looked before he drank. As he tossed the offending bottle into the trash, he frowned at her. “You’re mean.”

She reached into her robe pocket and removed his toothbrush and toothpaste. He ran the damp cloth over his face again before tossing it in the sink, watching warily as she squeezed toothpaste onto his brush and held it out to him.

“I’m not a child,” he protested, but took it from her. His semi-rosy outlook on this morning’s confrontation was quickly wearing off. He was starting to get pissed. When she crossed her arms and made it clear she wasn’t going to budge, he brushed his teeth. Damn bossy woman. He wanted to brush anyway.

He brushed slowly as he tried to clear his head. Then, carefully setting his toothbrush on the counter, he turned to face Emma. “What the hell is going on?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emma poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Cole. He took a sip and grimaced. A faint smile crossed her lips as she steered him back toward the sofa and chairs. “Come on. Let’s go sit down. There’ll be better coffee here soon.”

“I don’t want to sit. I want to know what’s going on.” His eyes narrowed, and he took another swig of the weak coffee. He tried to frown at her, but damn, her eyes were flashing something fierce. It turned him on even if he did feel like crap.

“Cole, Cherise drugged you.”

Now her eyes didn’t look so sexy. He sighed and chose his words carefully. “I know I had no business guzzling scotch this early in the day—and all of yesterday—and Cherise didn’t need to pour me another glass, but that’s hardly drugging, Emma.” Not only did he have no business drinking like that, he
never
drank like that. The furrow in his brow deepened.

Waving her hands in frustration, she protested, “She drugged you! I saw her.”

He ran a hand down her arm and grasped her hand. “Maybe that’s what you thought you saw…”

“I know what I saw, and…”

“Dammit, Emma, Cherise isn’t some secret spy.”
Except, he suspected she might be involved with Alistair, didn’t he? Wasn’t that the reason he’d met with her at all?

Before he could make sense of his conflicting thoughts, there was a knock at the door. Emma checked the peephole, then allowed Joey to enter. He carried a large bag from a nearby bakery in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other.

“Joey?” Cole frowned. Things were getting stranger and stranger. “What are you doing here?”

As his friend closed and locked the door, Emma said, “After I listened to your message, I called Joey.” At his look of confusion, she continued, “You called me back after—after that awful conversation. You apologized, and then you said…” She bit her lip, distressed. “You said, ‘Something’s wrong.’ So I called Joey for reinforcement, and we took the first plane to Paris. Zach put someone else on my search. Besides, you practically ordered me not to give Joey the slip again.”

Cole tore his gaze from her to focus on Joey. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, and I’m glad Emma didn’t make the trip alone, but where have you been…” He glanced at his watch, suddenly tired, and collapsed onto the sofa. “Where have you been for the past ten hours?”

“In a room down the hall.” Joey carried the bag and drinks to the kitchen bar and set them down, unpacking the aromatic food while Emma removed the hotel coffee. He put a pain au raisin on one plate and pain au chocolate on the other. After studying Cole, he added a chicken and sundried tomato sandwich to the plate with the pain au chocolate and carried both plates to the square table. “You look like hell.” He sat and shoved the plate with both pastry and sandwich toward Cole. “I’d question Emma’s taste in men, but at least you’re an improvement over Grant.”

This last was muttered under his breath so that only Cole heard it. As Emma joined them, carrying a mug of fragrant coffee, she eyed Cole quizzically. He realized he was grinning. When Joey fought to control a smirk as she handed Cole his coffee, he snorted in amusement.

Concerned, she sat next to him and took his hand. “Cole?” When he failed to respond, she turned to Joey and said apologetically, “He was drugged,” as if this explained his odd behavior.

Cole glared at her. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Hell, she was in the middle of her first real clandestine operation. He already knew she was impulsive. She’d clearly leapt to erroneous conclusions.

He would never allow a suspect to drug him. Setting his coffee on the table, he rubbed his temples and struggled to control his anger. Why was she trying to confuse him? “For God’s sake, Emma, I was not drugged.” Irritated, he grabbed her hands. “Look, I get it. You don’t like her. You don’t need to make things up to get me to stay away from her. She just showed up this morning. I didn’t invite her.” He clenched his jaw and forced himself to control his roller coaster emotions.

“You. Were. Drugged.” Emma dragged out each word.

He felt color rush to his face as her jaw set in a stubborn line. Actually, kind of a cute, stubborn line. Dammit! He wasn’t calling her a liar. She was just confused.

But you never drink like that.
The annoying voice inside his head sided with Emma.
So why did you drink so much? Why did you enjoy Cherise’s company? You don’t really like her. And her perfume…
he recalled the cloying scent of flowers when Cherise first raised her hands to his face while she kissed both of his cheeks and said hello. The same unflattering perfume she’d worn that night six months before.

Except he hadn’t noticed the smell during dinner that night, only when she surprised him later at the bar. He wrinkled his brow. And yesterday he hadn’t noticed it again after that first cheek-kissing greeting. Although he didn’t remember the night in New York with Cherise, he remembered the night in Paris, but even then his memories felt blurred around the edges.

He sat up straight, no longer tired, and suddenly quite certain Emma was right. Everything about Cherise’s visit
smelled
like a set up. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

Realizing Emma watched him with concern, he squeezed her hands and then shouted, “Damn it, Emma!” He winked as he continued harshly, “Your jealously is over the top. I’ve had enough.”

“Wh-hat…” She stuttered in surprise. “I…”

“I said
enough
,” he interrupted and nodded at Joey, who stared at him for a moment, then gave him a look of dawning comprehension and stood.

Placing one finger over his lips, he looked at Emma, then reaching into his bag to remove a small wand, he spoke calmly, “Listen you two, maybe I should run some errands while you work this out.” He swept the gadget over and under the table. “I’ll pick up some lunch as well.” Reaching under the table, he braced himself with one hand and pulled. His hand emerged holding a small listening device.

A hush descended as he placed the bug on the table and quickly checked the rest of the room, including the kitchen, then headed toward the bedroom. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to clean up first.”

Through the bedroom doorway, Cole watched as Joey again swept the wand about. Water turned on in the bathroom, doors opened and closed. Water turned off, and Joey returned, shaking his head.

They all stared at the bug.

Finally Cole spoke. “I need another drink.” He nodded at Emma, encouraging her to play along.

Her eyes widened in understanding. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve had enough already.”

“Who are you to say I’ve had enough?” He jumped to his feet, snatching up the plates of food before tipping the table over. The listening device flew to the floor, along with the coffee. He felt a moment’s regret. It was damned good coffee.

“Damn it, if I want a drink, I’ll have a drink,” he insisted.

If possible, Emma’s eyes grew even wider. Cole shoved the plates into her hands and slapped his leg. “Quit treating me like a child,” he practically shouted and stomped heavily on a table leg, cracking the fine wood. “Ouch, damned table!” He kicked it, and the leg split in two. Stomping down hard, he crushed the bug beneath his heel.

Silence reigned again.

Joey was the first to speak. “Uh, are you sure you wanted to do that?”

Cole stared. “Not exactly.”

“So, that’s a bug.” Emma’s gaze slid back and forth between them.

“Yeah.” Joey raised his eyebrows at Cole in disbelief. “So…I guess this means maybe you were drugged.”

Cole nodded, turning to Emma. “I was drugged.”

“Yes, I saw her put a liquid in your drink.”

“Okay.” He replayed their earlier argument. “Even though I was drugged, there’s nothing going on between Cherise and me.” He searched her face.

“I know that.”

“Oh yeah? Then, what was all that
I’m Cole’s type
stuff?”

She offered him a mysterious, half smile. “
You
said I was your type.”

“Well, yes, I… Are you trying to confuse me? Because I was just starting to be less confused.” He tamped down an unreasonable stirring of anger.

“I wanted her to think I was jealous.” When he lifted his brow, she shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, it seemed like what she wanted, though I’m not sure why.”

Cole gave her a look of approbation. Maybe she had a knack for this work after all. Another thought occurred to him. “It’s too bad you poured the drink down the drain…” He ran his hand along his whiskered chin, sighing. As a look of concern crossed her face, he again forced back negative thoughts. “You were great.” He searched her eyes and then clasped her hands in his. “I believe you, and I’m sorry.”

She smiled a not very nice smile. “You’re damn right you believe me,” she said, pulling him toward the kitchen. “But you’re wrong about something else.”

She reached into the cabinet and carefully pulled out a coffee mug, showing him the contents.

Cole grinned. “She saved the scotch.”

“Nice work, Emma.” Joey flashed her a thumbs up and reached into his bag once again, pulling out two vials. “What I don’t understand is how Cherise drugged you in the first place. I mean, it’s apparent that now you’re not quite yourself, and I could see her slipping something into your drink. But at first, when you were your normal, sharp self?” He shrugged apologetically. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Thoughtfully, he watched Emma retrieve the plates and place them on the bar then pick up the coffee carafe and pour the steaming brew into fresh mugs. Fairly certain of her response, he slipped onto a barstool and asked, “Do you remember Cherise ever wearing a heavy floral perfume?”

She scrunched her nose. “Heavy floral perfume? No, never.”

He nodded. “Me, either. Except I remember smelling it when she and I first met for drinks yesterday. And the smell…it reminded me of that night in New York as well.” He gauged her response, relieved when his comment elicited nothing more than curiosity. “I think the smell might have been a gas of some sort. Something to make me unaware of what she was doing so she could slip something more potent in my drink.” He turned to Joey. “What do you think?”

The other man tipped his head thoughtfully. “If it was some sort of gas, why did it only affect you and not her or the other people around you in the bar that first night as well?”

“Well she…” Cole stopped, forcing himself to think hard. Something flitted along the edges of his memory and began to connect with yesterday’s greeting. “I think…I think she was wearing some sort of ring. It was…it was big, almost ugly…” He shook his head. “I remember thinking it wasn’t her style.” He concentrated again. “She put her hands on my face and kissed me on both cheeks. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because she was…pretending to be French.” He grimaced. “Or something.” He glanced from Emma to Joey. “Do you think the gas might have been in the ring?”

“I think it’s possible,” Joey concurred.

Cole took another long drink of coffee. Delicious. Emma smiled at him.

Pain shot through his head along with the suspicion he was being played.

“Cole, what’s wrong?” She reached over and steadied his emotions with her touch. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the reassuring feel of her hand rubbing little circles against the fabric of his jeans just above his knee. Ah, the woman was damn good.

If only he didn’t have to keep fighting this unreasonable anger at her. “Nothing, really, my head hurts.”

The nice soothing hand lifted, and she flicked his leg instead.

“Oww.” He exaggerated the impact of the little flick. He opened his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Liar.” She stared at him, hard.

Joey carefully poured part of the contents from the coffee mug into a vial. He poured the remainder of the liquid into a second vial. Once both containers were sealed, he looked at Cole. “I’m with Emma on this. You’re lying. Something’s wrong.”

Cole looked back and forth between two sets of concerned eyes. “Fine. My head hurts, my stomach hurts.” He glared at Emma. Some of this had to be her fault. “You made me throw up. I hate to throw up.”

He fell silent. Emma and Joey waited.

Running his hand along his jaw, he sighed. “I keep having unpleasant, hell, downright mean, thoughts about you.” He stared at Emma and waited for her to explode.

She merely nodded.

He raised his brows.

“What?” She flicked his knee again. “You think I can’t see that at least once every five minutes you’d like to ring my neck. It’s written all over your face.”

Joey nodded. “It’s true.”

Color drained from Cole’s face. “I would never hurt you. Never.”

She soothed him again with gentle touches. “I know that, and I’m not afraid of you. I just mean it’s obvious you’re torn between not liking me and…” She cast an uncomfortable glance at Joey.

“Shit.” Cole dropped his head. Was every thought written on his face? He who was normally stoic, hard to read?

He wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed that it was obvious he harbored negative thoughts about her or that when he wasn’t pissed at her, he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to bed.

Instead, he sat quietly, lost in thought with them, until Emma snorted. Both men stared at her.

She shrugged. “It was kind of funny.” She giggled, then lowered her voice in imitation of Cole. “Damned table.” Her humor faded. “Now what?”

“Now I’m heading out to get this sample to a lab we use here in Paris. Next, I’m mailing this sample back to the States. Then, I’m heading back to the lab for results. And no news yet on the USB Emma and Grant procured.” Joey extended his hand and clapped Cole on the shoulder. “Hang in there. We’ll get this sorted out.” He grabbed his pain au raisin and headed for the door. “I’ll call with results. Otherwise, get more sleep. You look like hell.”

Emma followed Joey, lifting on tiptoe to give him a hug. He squeezed her in return and whispered something in her ear.

Cole clenched his fist. They were keeping secrets from him.