Amanda Stevens - Unauthorized Passion - Unauthorized Passion / Intimate Knowledge

“You were in the water at the time?”

“Yes, I…” She glanced down. “I dropped something in the water and I jumped in to get it. That’s when it happened.”

“Lucky timing.” Vargas stirred another packet of sweetener into his coffee. “The boat is registered in your name?”

“No. It belongs to a man named Ethan Gold. But I had his permission to use it,” she rushed to assure him. “I’m staying in his beach house this weekend.”

“Where can I reach Mr. Gold?”

“It’s Professor Gold. He teaches drama at the University of Houston. But I’m…not sure where he is at the moment.” Cassie was treading in dangerous water. She had to be careful because if she admitted who she was, all sorts of questions would ensue. And possibly a few legal entanglements as well. She might even be thrown in jail until her cousin surfaced to vouch for her.

If she surfaced. Cassie was no longer certain that she could count on Celeste to bail her out of trouble. Truth be told, she was no longer certain of anything. What had started out as a harmless charade had suddenly turned very deadly, and Cassie didn’t know what to do. Who to trust. But until she had a chance to think things through, maybe even confer with an attorney, self-preservation told her to keep her mouth shut.

“Professor Gold is out of town this weekend,” she explained. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Do you have his home address?”

“Not with me. I’m sure I have it somewhere back at my hotel. I think he lives in the West University area.”

He glanced up. “You think? You don’t know?”

Cassie tried to shrug casually. “We’re not that close. He was my drama professor years ago. We’ve kept in touch sporadically through phone calls and letters, but I haven’t actually seen him in quite some time.”

“But he offered you the use of his beach house and boat. Sounds to me as if you two are still pretty close.”

“Not really. He’s…a very generous man.” Cassie had no idea if Vargas believed her or not. She could read nothing from his expression.

Very deliberately, he stirred even more sweetener into his coffee. “Did he ever mention any trouble he might be in?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know anyone who might want him dead?” Vargas said bluntly.

Cassie gasped. “Dead?”

“Boats don’t just explode for no reason, Miss Fortune. If Professor Gold wasn’t the target, then we have to assume that—”

She was. Or, more accurately, Celeste. A shudder ripped up Cassie’s spine. She had the sudden urge to tell Vargas everything, but the fear of repercussions—namely, jail—held her back.

“Is there anyone who would want to harm you, Miss Fortune?”

“I…don’t know.”

His gaze darkened as he leaned toward her. “If I were you, I’d give the question a great deal of thought. Like I said, boats don’t just explode.” He scooted out of the booth and stood. “In the meantime, I’ll need the professor’s address and phone number. Have Jack give me a call when you get back to your hotel.”

Cassie glanced up. “That’s it? That’s all you need from me?”

His gaze bore into hers. “Unless you have something more to tell me.”

“Uh, no, I’ve told you everything I know,” Cassie said nervously. Even though his expression remained neutral, she had a feeling he could see right through her.

But all he said was, “I’ll be in touch.”

Cassie turned to watch him leave. Just outside the door of the restaurant, he stopped to have a word with Jack who had changed from his swim trunks into jeans and a casual shirt. He and Sergeant Vargas conversed for several minutes, then Vargas disappeared and Jack entered the restaurant.

Cassie turned quickly and pretended she hadn’t been watching them. When Jack approached the table, she made a point of staring out the window.

“Ready to go?”

She turned. “Go where?”

He shrugged. “Back to Houston, I guess. I’ll give you a lift. You still look too shaky to drive.”

“But I have a rental car…and the keys were in my bag on the boat.” Along with her driver’s license and some spare cash. Without money or wheels, Cassie would have no way of getting back to the hotel. Unless she called one of the Cantrells to come get her, and hell would freeze over before she’d do that.

There was nothing to do but accept Jack’s offer.

“You can call the rental company from the hotel,” he said as she slid out of the booth.

He took her elbow as they left the restaurant, and in spite of the warning bells he set off, Cassie shivered at his touch.

* * *

“I CAN’T GO BACK to Houston yet,” she said as they walked to a public parking lot near the marina. “I have to fetch Mr. Bogart.”

“Who’s Mr. Bogart?”

“He’s a dog. A Chihuahua. My Chihuahua. He’s my…Chihuahua,” Cassie finished lamely.

Jack gave her a curious glance. “Yeah, I got that.” He pointed to a late-model sedan, then used the remote to unlock the doors. The car wasn’t at all what Cassie had expected, but perhaps the nondescript vehicle was part of his cover.

He opened the door for her, then went around to slide behind the wheel. “Where do we find Mr. Bogart?”

“He’s at Professor Gold’s beach house.”

Cassie gave Jack directions, and as they drove along the coastal roadway, she studied him covertly from the corner of her eye.

Did she trust him?

In spite of Sergeant Vargas’s ringing endorsement, she still hadn’t decided. The idea that Jack had been following her—maybe for days—left her distinctly uncomfortable. He’d seen her in unguarded moments, and that alone was enough to make her shy away from him.

And then there was that little scene at Metro.

The two of them had practically been making out in public. Cassie could only imagine what he must think of her after that…unseemly display.

He turned, saw her staring, and smiled.

And, boy, what a smile. The way his lips tilted slightly at the corners made Cassie think all kinds of things she had no business thinking, especially in light of the fact that she’d almost been shark bait little more than an hour ago. Talk about unseemly.

But…she’d been yearning for an adventure, and now here she was, smack-dab in the middle of a doozy.

“Which way?” Jack asked as they came to an intersection.

“Left.”

He made the turn, and as they drove along the narrow lane, Cassie noticed two twenty-something women in thong bikinis admiring a silver Jaguar parked on the side of the road. Cassie wasn’t sure why, but as she and Jack drove by, she turned to glance back. One of the girls lifted a cell phone to her ear and said something into the mouthpiece as she stared after Cassie and Jack.

There was nothing unusual in the girl’s action, Cassie told herself. Young women talked on cell phones all the time.

She put the incident out of her mind as Jack pulled into Ethan Gold’s driveway. “I won’t be long,” she told him, “but you’re welcome to come in if you want.”

“I’ll wait on the landing.” They both got out of the car, and Jack followed her up the stairs.

At the top, Cassie fished a key from underneath a flowerpot and opened the front door. She took a step inside, then froze.

The room had been totally trashed. Paintings and cushions had been ripped to shreds, furniture overturned, lamps smashed. Even the carpet had been slashed.

Cassie hadn’t consciously made a noise, but she must have cried out in dismay because suddenly Jack was right behind her. When he put a hand on her arm, she started violently. He said in her ear, “Wait here.”

He pulled a gun from the back waistband of his jeans—which had been hidden by his shirt—and slowly walked into the room. Flattening himself against the wall, he eased toward the hallway. Glancing back at Cassie, he put a finger to his lips, cautioning her to silence, then he turned and peered around the corner. Finding the coast clear, he disappeared down the corridor.