Taken Identity (10 page)

“That’s a start. D’you know what uni and when?”

Jules groaned. “Hell, Sean, why don’t you ask me a hard one?” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “Well, Carole and Bill were at Keele, but Bill went to Durham afterwards to do his Masters, and I don’t know which one Adrian was at. As for dates? You have me there. I think Bill finished his Masters the year they married, but apart from that, your guess is as good as mine. I’ve an idea he did something to do with politics, Bill, that is…not Adrian, not a scooby what he did. Arse around, I should think, but strangely, given the behavior of some of our politicians, I’ve never heard of a degree in that. Is that any help?”

“Yeah, could be.” Sean gave a laconic response. “Nearly home and dry—well, in finding this guy’s past whereabouts, anyway. Tell Gray I’ll get back to him as soon as.”

Jules relayed the message. “So, do we carry on looking? Or finish the wine?”

“Ditch the wine and go on to water.” He didn’t say why, and Jules decided not to ask. She didn’t want to be disappointed if he gave her the answer she didn’t hanker after.

A little later, as she swirled her water glass between her fingers as they sat side by side on the settee, listening to a very old James Taylor track, Jules asked Gray idly, “What happens if we do find her—Julia, Elizabeth or whoever? I know you want the jewelry, but what else?”

She could see he carefully considered what to say before he replied. Surely, it wasn’t that hard a question?

“Answers, I suppose,” he replied slowly. “Mum’s jewelry, of course, but really… I want to know why? Why go like that? Why marry me in the first place? Because the more I think about it, the more I think our meeting was contrived. Engineered for a reason.”

“The reason being to marry you?”

“Well, be with me, at any rate.” He shrugged. “Why? No idea. I’m reasonably wealthy, I admit, and I have a good lifestyle. Nevertheless, I work long hours, I can go all over the world at a moment’s notice, without a companion, and make no excuse for doing so. And I make no bones about it, ask anyone who knows me. With hindsight, maybe not what she was looking for, after all.”

“I think perhaps that’s just what she
did
want,” Jules said thoughtfully. “Someone who wasn’t there all that often wouldn’t delve too deeply into her persona, her life. She would be able to keep a low profile then, as you wouldn’t be taking her out and about too much. The only downer is that you said you thought she left because you didn’t give her a life of holidays. Did she actually say that?”

She watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction and getting absolutely nowhere. He gave nothing away until he spoke.

“You know, you could be on to something. No, she didn’t say that. I just assumed it.”

“So, what did she say then? Do you still have the letter she sent?”

He shook his head.

“Why on earth not? No, don’t tell me. I can guess—stupid macho pride. God, you men, sometimes…” She let her voice trail off. “Honestly what are you like?”

“However,” Gray said stiffly, “I do remember it almost word for word. It is not something one can easily forget. Your wife telling you thanks for everything, but I’m not staying for any more.”

He stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of her.
Gah, he’s making me dizzy. It’s worse than watching a tennis match.

“She just said it was time for her to go, had taken the money from the joint account to keep her solvent until she got settled, and didn’t want anything else.”

He walked from one end of the room to the other. “She took her clothes—that was fair enough—her wedding ring and engagement ring. Strange, though, she left all the rest of her jewelry. Probably didn’t think it was worth much. Well, she was wrong because the earrings that matched her rings would have made her a pretty penny if she had sold them, never mind the rest.” He began his circuit of the room again.

“You’re making me giddy with all that pacing. Sit down, for God’s sake, Gray. This room isn’t big enough to pace. Crack your fingers or bite your nails or
something
. Or, if you really need to use up surplus energy—
no,
we are not using it up
that
way, clean your thoughts—the windows need washing!”

His laugh came across as spontaneous. So did his muttered, “Think of tripe.”

“Pardon? What’s tripe got to do with it? I thought you said you hated it.” She’d deliberately not said anything about the offal, and didn’t think he’d use the thought to subdue his arousal. “You shuddered when I teased you about tripe for dinner.”

“Exactly.” Gray looked complacent. “The thought of it makes me shudder. Go all cold. The best erection deflator there is. So, if I start getting all hot and hard thinking of what we are going to do, I think of tripe. Perfect.” He sat down again, looking pleased with himself.

“Mmm, right, I’ll, er, remember that if I see you rising without occasion then, shall I?” Jules didn’t think she would tell him she’d thought exactly the same thing herself.

Gray grinned. “Or, of course, you could always deflate me in a much more pleasurable manner. I’m easy.”

“Too much information and I think we’ve had this conversation before,” Jules said hastily. “So, let’s move on. Did she mention the jewelry in her letter?”

“No, but then if you were taking something that wasn’t yours, you wouldn’t, would you? You’d hope it wouldn’t be noticed or connected to you. But how the hell you could think that, I have no idea.”

“Maybe she didn’t take it?” Jules proffered.

“Of course, yes. Why didn’t I think of that? Someone else just happened to have access to the safe and took it at the time she left,” Gray said caustically. “This is real life, Jules, not a novel.”

Oh, Mr. Sarcastic!

She wasn’t fazed. “And real life is sometimes stranger than fiction, Gray, as we’re finding out with all this stuff that’s happening. I didn’t say it was likely, just that it could have happened. She didn’t take her jewelry, so why take yours? Doesn’t make sense.”

“Fair enough. I’ll accept that it’s unlikely but could have happened. Another reason to trace her.” Gray stretched his arms over his head, all his muscles coming into play.

Jules gulped. Her self-imposed ‘No Gray’ was getting harder and harder to stick to, especially when she knew what she really wanted to stick to was him, not her principles. Whoever said principles make a cold bedfellow was spot on. She rather thought it was decision time. It was hard to believe she’d known Gray for less than forty-eight hours. However, she reasoned, if she added up the actual time they had spent together, it was a lot more than she had spent in total in some relationships. A spurious argument, but one she thought she would be using to convince herself they just had to get together and discover what was happening between them. Well, she knew what was happening with her. She fancied the pants off him, and really needed to see if A—it was reciprocated, and B—lived up to what she remembered.

“What are you thinking?”

“Sorry?” She saw Gray’s quizzical look and flushed. “Oh, not much. More wine?”

She stood, lifted the bottle out of the cooler and gestured in the direction of his empty water glass.

This was it then, crunch time. If he said yes and drank a glass, he couldn’t drive home. If he said no—

His look was considered. Jules felt her muscles tense. It was all up to him now. Surely, he knew what she suggested. Even though she had been vocal in her no-sex edicts, the effect he was increasingly having on her—and it seemed her on him—somewhat negated that.

Jules had never really understood the phrase ‘a pregnant silence’, until she stood, bottle in hand, looking down at him, sitting relaxed in front of her. Her breasts at his eye level seemingly had no effect on his libido.

As if in slow motion, he shook his head. “No, thanks, no more wine.”

What?
She couldn’t believe her ears. After all the doublespeak, the sexual innuendos, the awareness and, yes, his bloody, great hard-ons, he wasn’t going to take what was on offer?
Bastard! Bloody, bloody…

“Sorry?”

“I said, I don’t want any more wine, but wouldn’t mind a glass of that rather good whisky you gave me yesterday.” His voice was patient, amused even. His smile showed her he knew exactly what she had asked and what he was agreeing to. “Just a drop though, a mere sniff and taste. I never play after alcohol.”

Help.
Jules now felt nervous. What if he was disappointed? What if
she
was disappointed? This time it was really them, not two strangers who passed—or should that be connected—in the night. How awful if they found reality didn’t live up to that dream-time meeting? Even if he didn’t know it was the same woman.

Oh hell, life was so complicated sometimes.

Her thoughts whirred as she took his empty glass and exchanged it for a tumbler in which she poured the merest drop of malt.
Shit,
when did I last wax my legs?
What state is my bikini line—and the rest—in?
Did she have time to check? To do anything necessary? At least she had changed the sheets that morning. In hope, maybe, that despite all her protests to the contrary, something would happen.

Hell, did she have any condoms? She may be on the pill, but there was no chance of anything happening without
that
extra protection. Sensible women protected themselves from more than just pregnancy. Jules might be head over heels in lust, but she had enough common sense left to remember all the lectures given to them at school about STIs.

“Are you going to join me?”

“
What
?”

He indicated his glass. “With a malt?”

“Oh, er, no, I think I’d better stick to water. I don’t like mixing my drinks.”
One sip and in the mood I’m in, I’ll be flat on my back for all the wrong reasons.

“Wise girl.” He took a sip of his drink. “Would you like me to open another bottle?” He paused. “Of water?”

Oh, God, surely she hadn’t said about being on her back aloud, had she? However, it seemed not, as Gray was just looking at her with a query in his eyes, not amusement.

“It’s a screw, um, cap, but I’d love another glass. There’s a bottle in the fridge. I’ll be back in a sec.” Jules left the room hurriedly, without stopping to gauge his reaction to her helpless mutterings. She dashed to the loo and splashed cold water on her face before looking in the bathroom cabinet.
Spare toothpaste, brush and razor. Headache tablets, no little foil wrapped parcels. Bugger. Where else? Duh, Jules, be logical. You are not likely to want condoms in here, no room to swing a cat, let alone…well, don’t go there yet. Be logical. En-suite, bedside table, hell, even kitchen drawer. Come on, woman, move, look and pray.

She did all three.

She was rewarded in the en-suite and bedroom
. Whew, at least I don’t have to explain why I’m rummaging through the kitchen drawers like a maniac. I wonder if I have enough?
How many was enough, anyway? She didn’t think they would use all she found, but a girl could live in hope, couldn’t she? She took a quick glance at her legs and bikini line. They would do, she decided, due to the circumstances. Time to get back downstairs before Gray thought she’d left the country.

He didn’t seem unduly perturbed by her prolonged absence. He had pulled the curtain shut against the evening sky and turned just one light on.
Setting the
scene?
she wondered. He had no need to.

He turned as she closed the door behind her and held up his glass. Not the whisky tumbler but one full of water once more. “Yours is on the table. Cheers.”

Jules lifted her glass and touched it to his. “Thanks, cheers.” She managed not to wonder out loud why they were toasting each other in water. He’d only said he never played after alcohol, not that they were going to play.

For some reason, she felt awkward, shy even.
For goodness sake, Jules, s
he admonished herself.
Get a grip. You haven’t agreed to anything, and he hasn’t asked. He might even be thinking about a taxi!
A brief glance downwards disabused her of that straight away—unless he got excited about the thought of those square, black cars.

“I may have an erection that’s uncomfortable and demanding attention and wants the attention to come from you, but I promise you, unless you want it to, nothing will happen, and I’ll make sure I have those off-putting thoughts I told you about. I like to think I am a gentleman and a Dom, and as such I keep my word. You turn me on with a look, Jules, but I’m not a randy teenager who can’t keep his body in check.” He laughed. “I’m a randy thirty-something, who can damn well have a good try! Not sure how well I’m succeeding at the moment, though.”

“Just what are you thinking about to get in that state, Gray?” Jules had not realized how provocative she sounded until she had spoken. She was going to have to think before she opened her mouth. She deserved it if he thought she was a tease.

His voice, however, was mild, full of promise.

“You, Jules, just you. Without that dress, lovely though it is. Naked. Under me while I explore every delicious inch of you—with my eyes, my hands, my mouth. With all my body. Over me, whilst you return the favors. With you tied up, blindfolded, ready for me. Me, inside you, feeling you tight around me, feeling you come for me as I come for you.” He paused. “That’s for starters.”

Calmly, he took another sip of water, although the hand that held the glass shook. Jules hoped it was with passion and not anger.

Gray looked at his hand. “See what you do to me? Make me shake with anticipation. Something very alien to my nature. Or so I had supposed. I would always have said I was cool and collected. Contained. I’m a Dom, always in control. Note I didn’t say in charge. You, pet, as my sub, always have the last word. I’d have described myself as someone who approached things logically, slowly and after careful consideration. Not at all impulsive. It took me six months before I suggested Julia move in with me.

“You, I hadn’t known more than a few hours, and I wanted to make love with you. Not just have sex, make love, play with you. Think about long time association. Know you submit to me, and I’m there to look after you. Shit, I have had more erections in the last two days than I think I have had in the last two years. Bloody painful they are, as well. And damn difficult to do anything about because… Anyway, just so you know. The only reason I am as I am, is you. Just you, and only you. So, over to you.” He spread out his hands in supplication. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, sit down. I’m not going to jump you.”