Danger Calls. Caridad Pineiro
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duplex while Ryder lived on the penthouse level. Sebastian hadn’t spent more than a night there, but it had been a night that had indelibly seared itself into his memory.
Alerted to his presence by the doorman, Melissa was already waiting. She wore a pair of trousers and a sleeveless lace blouse. Both were black. The blouse had a deep V-neck with small scalloped lace along the edges. Fairly sedate, he thought, until she turned to walk into the apartment and he saw the back of the blouse. It was nothing but a sheer panel of lace that exposed the creaminess of her skin. He bit back a groan. There was nothing underneath the blouse besides her.
Melissa tossed him a knowing smile as he followed her. She was testing him. Seeing if he could keep it just business.
It should have annoyed him. It didn’t. He liked her spunk.
“I figured we’d eat in here. Keep it simple,” she said, leading him past a modern-looking formal dining room and into the eating area of a spacious state-of-the-art kitchen.
“That’s fine. You can tell me what kind of computer equipment Ryder has while we eat. After, you can show me a journal or two.” He placed the plastic bag of food on the black granite counter and slipped off his blazer. When he removed the take-out aluminum pans from inside the bag, the pungent aroma of garlic wafted into the air.
Melissa closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and smiled. “Good thing Ryder’s not home.”
“So the garlic thing’s not just legend?” He finished laying out the pans and began to uncover them. “Dishes?” he questioned.
Nodding, Melissa opened a cabinet and removed various plates and bowls. She handed them to him and said, “Garlic does strange things to Ryder. In small doses, he can deal with it. If he were to ingest a large amount of it…” She shrugged and snagged a piece of mozzarella-topped garlic bread. “Hmm. Delicious.”
“Don’t fill up on the bread. There’s the salad with garlic Parmesan dressing as requested. Scampi with roasted garlic. And last but not least, grilled chicken with pesto. As a side, we have linguini with marinara sauce, for a slight change of pace.”
Melissa popped the last bit of garlic bread into her mouth and smiled. After she finished chewing, she said, “I like a man who’s true to his word. Would you like some wine with dinner? Ryder has a great collection.”
“Ryder drinks wine? I thought vampires only drank—”
“Blood? Hollywood stereotypes,” Melissa teased, tsking and shaking her head. She walked to a small wine cellar built into the wooden kitchen cabinets then turned a few bottles to expose the labels before pulling one out.
“Red seems appropriate,” she said and held the bottle out for his approval.
Sebastian uncorked the wine while Melissa forked some salad into bowls and prepared another set of plates with a little bit of each of the main courses and the pasta.
Once they were seated and the wine poured, Sebastian raised his glass and offered a toast, “To working together.”
Melissa raised her glass, but was quick to clarify, “I don’t think there will be much together, Sebastian.”
She doth protest too much, he thought. She was building defenses right before his eyes.
He knew the price to be paid for erecting such barriers. He’d kept his father away with the walls created by his defiance. Behind those walls, he’d avoided hurting people who expected more of him than he was able to give.
“Understood, Melissa. Just business.” He held up one hand as if in surrender, although giving up was the last thing on his mind.
Sebastian’s too-quick acquiescence surprised her because of the disappointment that came again, much as it had at the coffeehouse the other day. Disappointment implied that she’d hoped he’d take this opportunity to rekindle…No. To rekindle one had to have kindled in the first place. Their night of sex apparently hadn’t lit any fires for him. But that’s the way she wanted it, wasn’t it?
“Fine,” she said and nodded as if to confirm it to herself. “Ryder will cut you a check—”
Sebastian stopped her again by raising one hand. “I won’t take money for helping. Especially since I’m doing it for my sister.”
“Oh.” This time her disappointment cut deep. She didn’t rate, obviously, but why should that surprise her? She hadn’t rated with her parents, either. “What about the equipment you need?” she asked, hoping her dismay wasn’t apparent.
Sebastian chewed his scampi thoughtfully before replying, “I’m not rolling in the dough, so I will let Ryder reimburse me for that. I’m assuming he can afford it,” he said, motioning to everything around them with his empty fork.
“Money isn’t an issue. At least, as far as I know,” she replied, then turned her attention to the food while Sebastian asked questions about the journals and their sizes, Ryder’s existing computer, peripherals and Internet connections. She answered as best she could and advised Sebastian when he would have to ask Ryder for more information.
Dinner was just about finished when the apartment alarm chirped, signalling Ryder’s return.
Ryder walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, Diana behind him. “Whoa. If you wanted me to stay away, all you had to do was ask.”
Diana smiled at her brother and greeted Melissa with a nod of her head. “Have the two of you decided what to do?” Diana asked as she paused in the doorway, briefcase gripped tightly in her hand.
Sebastian shot Melissa an uneasy glance. “I have a basic idea of what I need for the project. I guess we can start…” He paused, waiting for Melissa to fill in the blank.
“As soon as you confirm the equipment you need and do the programming,” she finished.
“We should try to do that as soon as possible,” Ryder advised.
It was obvious to Melissa from Ryder’s tone that something was up. “You have more information?” she asked as she grabbed her plate and started clearing the table. Sebastian rose and joined her, removing the remainder of their meal and leaving their glasses and the half-empty bottle of wine.
Diana opened her briefcase and removed an assortment of papers. “I looked at the reports and made a call or two. There are a number of things that just don’t connect.”
“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Melissa asked and plopped down heavily in her chair, her knees suddenly rubbery.
“Nine-one-one received a call from a pay phone reporting the accident. Crews were dispatched immediately, but there were no motorists at the scene when the police arrived.”
Melissa knew Diana was only trying to be complete with the facts, but there was just one thing she wanted to hear. “Can you skip to—”
“The real four-one-one,” Sebastian finished for her and she gave him a grateful smile.
“I contacted the initial officer on the scene and asked why he hadn’t requested medical assistance.” Diana hesitated and looked at Melissa uneasily as she finished, “He said that when he felt for a pulse the bodies were cold. He knew immediately there was no reason for paramedics, but there was no way the bodies—”
“My parents,” Melissa lashed out.
“Perdoname,” Diana apologized before continuing. “Even though it was chilly, from the time of the call to the arrival of the police, to be cold your parents had to have been dead for some time.”
Since the day the journal had disappeared, Melissa had wondered whether there was some connection to her parents’ crash. Even though some medicine and prescription pads had been stolen, too, it made no sense for a drug dealer to steal a musty old journal. Nor had it made sense for her normally cautious father to speed down an icy and dangerous road. Perhaps her father had discovered something someone didn’t want him to know. She