Secrets, Lies & Lullabies. Heidi BettsЧитать онлайн книгу.
Slamming the folder shut, she returned it to the bedside drawer and placed the pen back on top in exactly the same position it had been to begin with. She hoped.
With the nightstand put to rights, she finished stretching the fitted sheet over the other two corners of the mattress, then added the top sheet. She needed to get the room cleaned, and the best way to snoop was to search the areas nearest where she was working, anyway.
So she got the bedroom fixed up and cleaned but didn’t resupply the bathroom before moving back into the main sitting room. She ran the vacuum over every inch of the rug, just like she was supposed to, but took her time and even poked the nose of the sweeper into the closet near the hallway door. The only thing she found there, however, was the hotel safe, which she knew she didn’t stand a chance of getting into.
The only place left that might hold something of interest to her cousin was the large desk along the far wall. She’d avoided it until now because she suspected she didn’t really want to find anything. She didn’t want to be put in that spot between a rock and a hard place; didn’t want to hand something over to Erin that might put her cousin in an even more precarious situation; didn’t want to stir up trouble and poke at a sore spot within her family that she’d thought was beginning to heal over. She’d thought they were all moving on.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
Leaving the vacuum nearby, she did a quick sweep of the top of the desk. There were a few sheets of hotel stationery with random notes written on them, but the rest seemed to be the typical items supplied by the lodge. Hotel directory, room-service menu, et cetera.
Inside the desk, though, she found a heck of a lot more. Namely a small stack of manila folders and a laptop computer.
Jessica licked her lips, breathing in shallow bursts that matched the too-fast beat of her heart against her rib cage.
She was not opening that laptop, she just wasn’t. For one thing, that would be too much breaking and entering, and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, for her peace of mind. For another, it would take too long. By the time it booted up and she figured out how to explore the different files and documents, her supervisor would surely be kicking in the door demanding to know why she was still in this suite when she should have been done with the entire floor.
She was sticking to her guns on this one. Erin might not like that decision, but she would just have to deal with it.
So she stuck with the folders lying beside the laptop, opening them one at a time and scanning them as quickly as possible.
Nothing jumped out at her as being out of the ordinary—not that she really had a clue what she was looking at or for. It was all just business jargon, and she certainly hadn’t gone to business school.
But there was no mention of Taylor Fine Jewels in any of the papers … not that she’d expected there to be. And there was no indication of anything else that put her instincts on red alert.
She was just letting out a huff of air that was part frustration, part relief when she heard a creak and knew someone was entering the suite behind her. Her eyes flashed wide and she all but slammed the desk drawer shut—but slowly and quietly to keep from looking as guilty as she felt.
Putting her hand on the rag that she’d left on top of the desk, she started to wipe it down, just as she was supposed to. Act natural. Act natural. Try not to hyperventilate. Act natural.
Even though she knew darn well someone was behind her … likely standing there staring at her butt in the unappealing, lifeless gray smock that was her work uniform … she didn’t react. She was alone, simply doing her job, as usual. The trick would be to feign surprise when she turned around and “discovered” that she wasn’t alone.
Schooling her breathing … act natural, act natural … she hoped her cheeks weren’t pink with the guilt of a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Luck was on her side, though, because as she finished wiping down the desktop and twisted toward where she’d left the upright vacuum cleaner, whoever was standing behind her, silently monitoring her every move, cleared his throat.
And it was a he. She could tell by the timbre of that low rumble as it reached her ears and skated straight down her spine.
The air caught in her lungs for a moment, and she chastised herself for having such a gut-level, feminine response to something so simple. This man was a complete stranger. Her family’s sworn enemy. And since he was a guest of Mountain View, and she worked for the lodge, he might as well be her employer.
Those were only the first of many reasons why her breathing should not be shallow, her blood should not be heating, and the clearing of his throat should not cause her to shiver inside her skin.
Doing her best to snap herself out of it, she straightened and twisted around, her hand still on the handle of the vacuum cleaner.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, letting her eyes go wide in mock startlement, praying the man standing in front of her wouldn’t see right through it. “Hello again.”
“Hello there,” Alexander Bajoran returned, his mouth curving up in a small smile.
Jessica’s pulse kicked up a notch.
It was nerves, she told herself. Just nerves.
But the truth was, the man was devilishly handsome. Enemy or no enemy, a blind woman would be able to see that.
His ink-black hair was perfectly styled, yet long enough in places to look relaxed and carefree. Eyes the color of blue ice glittered against skin that was surprisingly tan for a resident of the Pacific Northwest. But she knew for a fact it wasn’t the result of time spent in tanning beds or spray-on booths; the entire Bajoran family leaned toward dark skin, dark hair … and ruthless personalities.
She had to remember that. The ruthless part, anyway.
Never mind how amazing he looked in his black dress slacks and dark blue blazer. Like he belonged on the cover of GQ. Or Forbes, thanks to his ill-gotten millions.
Never mind that if she saw him on the street, she would probably give herself whiplash spinning around to get a second look.
“We seem to have conflicting schedules this week,” he said in a light, amused tone. His voice immediately touched deep, dark places inside of her that she really didn’t want to think about.
He gave her a look, one she’d seen thousands of times in her adult life and had no trouble recognizing. Then his voice dropped a fraction, becoming sensual and suggestive.
“Or maybe they’re matching up just right.”
The heat of his voice was like sunshine on budding little seedlings, making something low in her belly shiver, quiver and begin to unfurl.
Oh, no. No, no, no. No more charming-but-dangerous men for her—and Alexander Bajoran was the most dangerous of all.
She’d been hit on and leered at by any number of male guests in her time at Mountain View. Traveling businessmen, vacationing husbands with a wandering eye, rich but useless playboys with a sense of entitlement.… But whether they’d pinched her on the rear, slipped her hundred-dollar tips or attempted simple flattery, she had never once been attracted to a single one of them.
Yet here she was, face-to-face with the man who had stolen her family’s company and whom she was supposed to be spying on, and caterpillars were crawling around under every inch of her skin.
He took a step toward her, and her hands fisted, one around the handle of the vacuum, the other near her right hip. But all he did was set his briefcase—which was really more of a soft leather messenger bag—on the nearby coffee table before sinking into the overstuffed cushions of the sofa behind it.
Releasing a pent-up breath and sending some of those annoying creepy-crawlies away with it, Jessica reached down to unplug the sweeper and started to coil up the cord. The sooner she got out of there now that he was back, the better.