Sweet Fortune

“Possibly. If we got lucky. And if we knew someone we could trust to do the hacking for us.”

  “But that's just it. We do know someone. Alex Robin would be perfect. He's desperate for work. And he'd be terribly discreet.”

  Hatch shook his head over her sudden enthusiasm and regarded her with a brooding expression. “Jessie, this is tricky territory. You know that as well as I do.”

  “If DEL is on the up-and-up, we'll back off immediately. I'll tell Mrs. Attwood that the foundation is legitimate and suggest she try some other approach to getting Susan back. But if DEL is running a scam and we can prove it, then she'll have the kind of information she needs to do something. She can go to the police or the papers and have Bright exposed, just as she wants to do.”

  “It's a job for a genuine private investigator or an investigative reporter, not an assistant fortune-teller.”

  “Now, don't be so negative, Hatch. We're not ready to turn this over to someone else yet.” Jessie carefully refolded the piece of computer paper and leaned over to drop it into her purse. “We'll try to get more information first. When we have proof, we'll let Mrs. Attwood decide how she wants to handle things. Hatch, I really appreciate this. More than I can say.”

  ‘Yeah?”

  She nodded seriously. “Definitely. I'll admit I had a few doubts about bringing you along on this trip, but you've certainly proved your usefulness.”

  “I can't tell you what that means to me.”

  Jessie scowled at him, wondering, as she frequently did, if he was making a wry joke. She decided once again that he was dead serious. “I couldn't have gotten this far without you, and I truly am grateful. You've given us the first strong lead we've had since I tracked down the invitation that got us into DEL.”

  “That's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about.”

  “The invitation? What about it.”

  Hatch gave her a level look. “Does it strike you that we got hold of that invitation very easily? Maybe too easily?”

  “It wasn't easy. I had to work at it. And David helped. It was just my good luck that he attends Butterfield College and was able to find Nadine Willard.”

  “Jessie, we tough, cynical business types don't like to trust in things like good luck. I'm wondering why DEL went to the effort of laying on that little show for us today with almost no questions asked.”

  “I don't see what was so strange about it. After all, they're in the business of drumming up big donations.”

  “Why didn't they arrange to have a whole bunch of potential suckers make the trip at the same time? Why go out of their way to accommodate our schedule? Sending that plane over here to pick us up wasn't cheap.”

  Jessie paused, struck by those observations. “I see what you mean. You think maybe they're suspicious of us?”

  “I don't know what to think yet. But I do know I don't like it. Not one damn bit of it.”

  “This is getting a tad complicated, isn't it?” Jessie mused.

  “A tad.”

  “But it's kind of exciting in a way too. This is a heck of a lot more interesting than my last job.”

  “What was your last…? Uh, right. You were working for Benedict Fasteners, weren't you?”

  “Don't look so glum, Hatch. Things could be worse. If circumstances had been slightly different, I'd still be working for you.”

  “I know I should look on the bright side, but somehow it's hard to do that at the moment.”

  Jessie eyed him cautiously. “Was that supposed to be humorous by any chance?”

  “You think I lack a sense of humor, among other fun-loving attributes, don't you?”

  “Let's just say the subject is open to question.”

  “Would it make things simpler if I told you I am extremely serious about taking you to bed tonight?”

  Jessie jumped to her feet and in the process accidentally knocked over a small candy dish that was sitting on the table beside the bed. It fell to the floor with a crash.

  “Oh, hell,” she muttered, bending down to pick it up. At least it hadn't broken. She knew she should be grateful for small favors. Setting the heavy glass dish back down on the table, she stalked to the window.

  “Why do I make you nervous, Jessie?”

  “I don't know.” She took a handful of the curtain and crushed it between her fingers as she studied the rainy darkness outside the window.

  “Why are you so sure you and I could have some kind of genuinely meaningful long-term committed relationship?”

  “I never thought about having a genuinely meaningful long-term committed relationship. I was thinking more along the lines of a marriage.”

  “See? That's exactly what I mean when I say I can never tell if you're making a joke or if you're serious. It's very disconcerting. Why don't you just answer my question? What makes you think you and I could make a go of it?”

  Hatch appeared to turn that question over in his mind for a long moment before he said, “Things feel right with you.”

  “Right? What do you mean, ‘right’?”

  He shrugged. “I think it would work out. The two of us, I mean.”

  She crushed the curtain more tightly in her clenched fist. “But what do you want from a…a relationship, Hatch?” She simply could not bring herself to say the word “marriage.”

  “The usual things. A loyal wife. Kids. I'm thirty-seven years old, Jessie. I want to have children. Put down some roots. I grew up on a ranch, remember? Part of me still wants to feel like I belong to a place. I know I won't have that feeling until I've established a home and family of my own. It's time.”

  “You sound as if you're listening to some sort of biological clock.”

  His mouth curved briefly. “Did you think only women had internal clocks?”

  “I guess I hadn't thought much about biological clocks at all. Even my own.” She sighed. “I would definitely not make you a good, supportive, corporate president's wife. You know that, don't you? I would nag you if you didn't come home on time in the evenings. I would yell at you if you took too many business trips. I would show up at the office and cause a scene if you canceled an outing with one of the children because of a business appointment.”

  “I know.”

  She spun around. “Then why in heaven's name do you want to marry me? Are you that eager to get your hands on Benedict Fasteners?”

  “No.”

  “Then give me one good reason,” she challenged, feeling oddly desperate. “Why me instead of someone else? Someone who wouldn't give you a hard time about your work?”

  Hatch got slowly, deliberately to his feet, his eyes never leaving hers. He moved toward her until he was standing directly in front of her. Then he caught her face between rough palms and brushed his mouth lightly, possessively across hers. “Because I know I can trust you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Trust me?”

  “You might yell at me, nag me, annoy me, infuriate me. But I am almost certain you would never lie to me. And I know I'll have your loyalty because I'll always be tied to Benedict Fasteners and therefore to your family. I'm going to make myself a part of your world, Jessie. You're very loyal to the people in your world, aren't you?”

  She stared up at him. “Is loyalty so important to you?”

  “I do not think you would have an affair with my best friend. I do not think you would run off with him and leave me a goddamned note telling me you hoped I understood. If you are angry or hurt or feeling neglected, I think you'll complain directly to management, not go behind my back and cry on some other man's shoulder.”

  “Complain to management.” Her lip quivered. “Oh Hatch. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Right now all you have to do is go to bed with me.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hatch watched the sweet, wistful longing in Jessie's eyes as he reached out and turned off the light. She wanted him. But then, he had understood that almost from the start. It was the primary reason he had been willing to be patient i
n his pursuit. A man could afford patience when he knew the end was not in doubt. He would not rush her into marriage.

  But after having had a taste of her in bed, he could no longer resign himself to patience in that department. A man had his limits.

  Hatch curved his hands around her shoulders, enjoying the delicate, womanly feel of her. She did not pull away. His eyes met hers in the shadows and, as always, he was drawn into the depths of that wide, luminous gaze. He let his hands slide down to the row of buttons below the collar of her silk shirt.

  The shirt parted easily as he slowly worked his way down to the waistband of the long, flared skirt. Hatch took a deep breath as he slid his fingers inside the opening and found the warm, scented softness of her skin. His thumb touched the front clasp of her lacy little bra and he unclipped it.

  She inhaled sharply and gave a tiny little whimper of desire as he cupped her breasts. Her arms stole softly around his waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “I've decided we might as well try having an affair,” she mumbled into his shirt.

  He almost laughed out loud at that ridiculous statement. But he managed to control his initial reaction and merely smiled into her hair as he unfastened her skirt. “Do you think we can handle an affair?”

  “Well, we're two healthy single people who happen to be very strongly attracted to each other. Neither one of us is the type to get involved in one-night stands.” She lifted her head and frowned up at him in the darkness. “Are we?”

  “No. I've never been particularly interested in one-night stands,” he assured her. “The risk/reward ratio is badly skewed. Frankly, I've never considered them cost-effective.”

  He heard her swallow a choked little laugh, and her arms tightened around his waist. “Hatch, you are impossible.”

  “You, on the other hand, are very, very lovely,” he breathed as her skirt fell to the floor.

  He moved his hands over her, enthralled by the gentle contour of her back and the flare of her hips. He slipped his fingers inside her panties and eased them down until they followed the skirt to her ankles. Then, with a sigh of sheer masculine pleasure he cupped her buttocks and squeezed carefully. She shivered.

  The small shudder of unmistakable desire that rippled through her was intoxicating. Hatch did not wait any longer. He leaned over and pulled down the covers of the bed. Then he picked her up in his arms and put her on the sheets.

  He undressed impatiently, unable to take his eyes off her as she lay waiting for him. He was fascinated with the dark outline of her nipples, the tiny hollow in her gently curved belly, and the triangular thicket of hair that concealed her deepest feminine secrets.

  He was already fully aroused by the time he got out of the last of his clothes. His body felt taut and strong and powerful. Jessie did this to him, he thought in awe. She made him feel this way. He could not wait to bury himself in her tight, humid sheath.

  “I promised myself that this time we'd take it slow.” He came down onto the bed beside her and drew her toward him.

  “Did you?” Her eyes were shimmering with wonder and sensual excitement. She stroked his arm and touched his hip lightly, fleetingly. Her legs shifted restlessly on the sheet.

  “I let you push me too fast last time.” He bent his head to kiss the soft, vulnerable hollow of her throat.

  Her eyes widened in instant outrage. “Now, just a minute here. I did not push you into making love to me in Mrs. V's office. How dare you blame me for that? You were the one who pushed me into doing it right there on her sofa, of all places.”

  He slowly combed his fingers through the crisp hair between her legs, aware of the welcoming scent of her. “You might as well face it, sweetheart. You have the power to push me over the edge.”

  “Hah. I don't believe that for a minute.”

  “I didn't either. Until I found myself taking you right there on Mrs. Valentine's office sofa.” He kissed one tight, firm nipple. “That kind of power is a dangerous thing, Jessie. Be careful how you use it. Who knows where we'll be the next time you push me too far?”

  She shivered again as he forced his knee gently between her legs, opening her to his touch. He sucked in his breath, clamping down what was left of his self-control when he realized she was already wet. “Jessie, honey. Jessie, touch me.”

  She kissed his chest as her fingers floated lightly down to curve around his throbbing shaft. Hatch thought he would explode then and there.

  “So much for taking it slow this time,” he muttered. He rolled onto his back and pulled her down on top of him. She knelt astride his hips, her lips parted in sensual wonder. She cradled him in both hands, openly marveling.

  “What's so funny?” she demanded in a husky voice as she glanced up suddenly.

  Hatch realized he was grinning widely. “Something about the way you're looking at me.” It occurred to him that he had never seen such a look of discovery and delight on a woman's face. He had never been wanted in quite this way. It was wildly exhilarating. Pleasure and a very primitive satisfaction rushed through him like a shot of adrenaline.

  “Hatch,” she whispered, “I truly do not understand any of this.”

  “Don't worry. You're doing just fine.” He tested himself against her, letting her feel the extent of his arousal.

  “I don't mean this.” She stroked him lightly and smiled in delight when Hatch caught his breath in an undeniable, starkly passionate response. “I mean, why is it you who can do this to me? I know this sounds trite, but the truth is, you really aren't my type at all.”

  “Why don't you stop trying to analyze it and just put me inside you where we both can feel it?” He reached down between her legs and drew his finger through the slick, wet moisture there. Then he guided himself inside her. He heard her take a deep breath as he pushed himself carefully into the snug passage.

  When he was partway inside he clamped his hands around her waist and lowered her slowly down over the full length of him.

  “Hatch.”

  “You fit me so perfectly. So damn good.” He could feel her clinging to him, sucking him deeper, holding him prisoner there inside her. Again he had to will himself not to give into the temptation of an early release. It was all he could do to wait while he used his fingers to bring her to her own peak.

  She began to move on him, cautiously at first. He watched her expression through narrowed eyes, enthralled by her responsiveness. He was right. No woman had ever responded to him with such complete and such sensual abandon. She made him feel powerful; the most powerful man on the face of the earth.

  He had never reacted to a woman's touch with such violent need.

  He let her set the pace as long as possible. But when he felt her start to tighten around him, he lost what was left of his willpower. He had to end this sweet torture or go out of his mind.

  Deliberately he tried to insert his finger into her alongside his engorged manhood. There was no room. He had known there would not be, of course. She was already stretched too far, filled too completely with him. But when he added the extra bit of pressure there at the sensitive entrance, she gasped. Her eyes widened briefly and then she shuddered and went over the edge.

  “Hatch. Oh, my God, Hatch.”

  He locked his arms around her, swallowing her soft, keening little scream of ecstasy as he thrust himself once more straight to the core of her. “Yes, Jessie. Hold me. Hold me.”

  In that moment he could not have said exactly what it was he wanted from her, but he knew he needed it more than he had ever needed anything in his life. When she collapsed in a soft little heap on top of him he thought he had it.

  For a while, at least.

  Hatch did not know how long he had been asleep. But he awakened because some sixth sense alerted him to the fact that Jessie had left the bed. He turned over and opened his eyes.

  “Jessie?”

  She was standing at the window, still nude. He could just barely make out the shape of her gently curving
breasts in the pale, watery moonlight. As he watched, she put her face closer to the glass, and he realized she was staring down into the parking lot of the inn.

  “Hatch, there's somebody out there.”

  He yawned. “Probably some guest getting back late from dinner. Come back to bed, honey.”

  “No, I think he's trying to break into your car.”

  “The hell he is.” Hatch shoved back the covers and came off the bed in one swift movement. A split second later he was at the window, following Jessie's gaze. She was right. A lone figure was hovering near the passenger door of the Mercedes. There was just enough light coming from the weak yellow porch lamp to reveal an object in the man's hand. Even as they watched, the figure raised his arm.

  “He's going to smash the window,” Jessie said in horror.

  “Sonofabitch.” Hatch unlatched the bedroom window. He vaulted up onto the sill and stepped out on the ledge.

  “No, wait, what are you doing? Hatch, come back here. You're in your shorts, for heaven's sake. Wait until I call the police. For goodness' sake, Hatch.”

  Hatch swore softly as he saw the figure near the car look up at the sound of Jessie's voice. The man was wearing a stocking mask. “Dammit, Jessie, he heard you. He'll get away.”

  Hatch stepped down onto the porch roof and in two strides reached the edge. Crouching low, he took a firm grip, swung himself over the side, and lowered himself down onto the porch railing. His bare feet touched the wooden surface and he was grateful there were no splinters.

  But he was too late. Light, rapid footsteps sounded on the pavement of the small parking lot. Hatch knew he had lost his quarry even as he leapt from the railing onto the ground. He winced as he felt a pebble dig into his sole. He caught a glimpse of the black-clad figure disappearing around the corner of the inn.

  “Shit.”

  Hatch started after the dark figure but gave up when he realized he was running on sharp gravel. Pursuit was useless. His bare feet would be torn to shreds. His only chance of getting his hands on the jerk had been the element of surprise, which Jessie had ruined.