Carly Phillips - Under the Boardwalk

“Let go,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me make you come.”

She had no doubt he could. Without him ever touching her there, he had the ability to make her lose control. But that was the thought that cut into her pleasure and forced her to think instead.

Her control was the very thing that had kept her sane. She had always held herself in check, deliberately forced composure because doing so distinguished her from her family. Her more dramatic, emotionally freer, bordering-on-crazy family. Control distinguished her from her twin.

Their moment had passed and Ariana scrambled off him, pulling down her skirt as she moved. “I can’t do this.”

She’d come here to question Quinn about Zoe. Instead she’d taken one look at his distraught face, seen his pain over Sam, and fallen into his arms with no questions asked.

He met her gaze, looking as shell-shocked as she felt. But he wasn’t the one who’d made a mistake. She had. Because while she was sitting in Quinn’s hotel room, shirt and skirt hiked up, breasts bared, her precious control nearly shot to hell, her sister was missing.

And Quinn, who was masterfully taking charge and encouraging her to let go, knew where her sister was. And he refused to say.

Just wonderful, Ariana, she thought to herself.

• • •

Quinn sat in silence as Ari adjusted her clothing, pulled down and retucked her shirt. He wished he could say he was sorry, but damn it, damn him, he wasn’t. Because for the moment, he’d been able to forget.

He’d been able to put Damon, the case, Sam and her problems, and Quinn’s whole sorry life, out of his mind. No woman ever had the power to make him lose focus and forget. And he’d needed to lose himself in Ari more than he’d needed to breathe. So he wasn’t sorry.

Even if she obviously was. “What’s going on?” Not the most tactful way to approach her, but she hadn’t looked at him since pulling away.

She met his gaze through hooded eyes. The desire still lingered but a wealth of other emotions obviously flooded her, too. “Where’s my sister?” The question was quickly becoming a chorus.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration welling inside him. “I can’t tell you.”

She strode closer and leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. “Is this place bugged?”

He heard the hope in her voice and knew she was wishing there was a reason for his silence that she could understand. There wasn’t. His room had been swept clean, something he made certain of daily. He put up with Damon’s meddling in the office, but his private domain remained sacred.

He shook his head in answer to her question. No bugs, he thought silently. “I just can’t say.”

“That’s what’s wrong.” Disappointment laced her tone and kicked him in the stomach, sucking the life out of him.

She rose from her seat. Her clothing was still awry, her face red from his razor stubble, and still she appeared sexier than any woman he’d ever known. Even if her expression made it clear that she couldn’t be more disappointed in him. He’d rather be hit by a barrel of someone’s gun than face her disapproval. Which shocked him, since Quinn Donovan never gave a shit what anyone thought.

“Rumor has it you had something to do with Zoe’s disappearance.” She shivered and rubbed her arms with her hands.

He knew better than to offer comfort, just as he also understood her need to push for answers. “I didn’t.”

Ari narrowed her gaze. “Then tell me why and how you got to know Zoe. Because from what I can see, you don’t have much to do with the dancers. Why did you have a relationship with my mother? Why with Zoe? Why were they different?”

He admired her intellect. But that intelligence would also be his downfall, Quinn realized, since she was beginning to put together pieces of information.

How long before his cover was blown?

“Your mother was just plain friendly,” he told her truthfully. “As for Zoe… You’re going to have to trust me.” He held his hands out toward her but she refused to come near.

“Just because I’m sexually attracted to you doesn’t make me stupid,” she said, her exasperation obvious. “For all I know, the rumors are true and you did have something to do with Zoe’s disappearance.”

“I didn’t. Not in the way you mean, anyway.”

“Oh, okay. That’s clear as mud.” Disgust etched her features, and those lips he’d kissed earlier turned downward in a frown.

The desire raging through him hadn’t lessened, only now it was accompanied by frustration. At Ari for her persistence and at himself for his inability to give her the answers she needed.

“Give me one more week,” he said, thinking back to Damon’s insistence he’d go away next weekend. If he could stall Ari for another seven days, he’d have the proof he needed to put this case to rest.

She shook her head. “Not without a reason. Some kind of proof that I can trust you.”

“Besides my word?” he asked, not missing the irony in that statement.

“Sorry but that’s not enough.” A hint of regret flickered in her eyes.

Maybe at least a part of her wanted to believe him. “I had nothing sinister to do with your sister’s disappearance,” he told her, once more for good measure.

Her wry laugh sliced through him. “Do me a favor, Quinn?”

“What?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Take me home.”

• • •

An awful stench greeted Ariana as she walked into the kitchen early the next morning. As she’d told Quinn, her mother didn’t cook, she ordered in, and this odor was a testament to the reasons why. Her mother had pulled a barstool away from the counter so Spank the monkey could sit and watch while she cooked. A fact that struck Ariana as more normal than the sight of her mother in an apron, stirring something in a large pot.

“So, what are you cooking?” Ariana asked diplomatically.

“Not cooking. Creating.” Her mother continued to stir the ingredients with a wooden spoon.

“I hope it’s nothing like the drink you made the other day,” Ariana said.

“It’s another version,” Aunt Dee said from her place at the table.

“This recipe is for facial cream. I’m waiting for it to thicken. The combination of ingredients has restorative qualities for the skin. It’s an old family recipe. Don’t you think our new spa should have a product unique to the Costas family?” she asked.

Ariana raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know her family claimed anything but cons to pass down from generation to generation, but she didn’t want to insult her mother by asking whether she’d made up this story for the public relations benefit it would offer the spa.

Instead she tackled the more surprising revelation. “You said Costas family spa. Does that mean Dad’s willing to move away from the Addams family?” she asked hopefully.

“He will eventually,” Elena said with certainty. “He only holds on to it as security because the persona lets him forget he was sick during his treatment. It’s been a long time. He just needs the right prodding to let go. He’ll come around.”

Elena sounded so sure of herself that Ariana knew her mother would have her way. She glanced into the pot only to have herself smacked away by her mother’s hand.

“Leave it be,” Elena scolded her.

“What’s the main ingredient?”

“Other than fish oil?” Aunt Dee asked.

Ariana swallowed, attempting not to gag. “So that’s what the odor is.” She winced and decided once and for all not to try to look into the pot again. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but why?”

Elena glanced heavenward. “I’d think that was obvious. Have you ever seen a wrinkled fish?”

Ariana blinked. Only her mother would come up with such absurdity. “Only a scaly one,” she muttered. “Assuming you can even get anyone near this stuff given the odor, I think you’re going to have flaking problems.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“She hasn’t added the scent yet,” Aunt Dee assured her.

Ariana doubted anything would cover the fishy smell, but decided to shut up now. “I’m a little surprised Spank wants to be anywhere near this stench.”

At the mention of her name, the monkey grinned.

“Well, there’s also Greek valerian in here.” Her mother placed a cover on the pot and lowered the dial to simmer. “Historically, it’s a scent that has been known to attract cats,” she said, as if that explained Spank’s attraction to the vile odor.

Ariana shook her head. “Do you mean valerian root?” She named an herbal remedy she’d once heard of.

Her mother laughed. “I think Greek valerian sounds so much more apropos for us, don’t you? Besides, that’s the correct name for what I purchased.”

“Whatever.” Ariana was through asking questions. Even if she did wonder what legal steps her mother planned or didn’t plan to take in order to market this new treatment. Once she eliminated the odor, that is. “Since the stove’s overloaded, I think I’ll go to Aunt Kassie’s for something to eat.”

But she’d be shocked if her sinus passages cleared and the odor in her nostrils disappeared enough for her to regain her appetite.

“Are you working tonight?” her mother asked.

When Ariana had told Elena the truth about her job at Damon’s, her mother had merely grinned and said, “Quinn will protect you.” Ariana had gritted her teeth and smiled.

Though Elena thought a man was the answer to life, Ariana had learned the hard way to rely on herself. Her first few months in Vermont had been lonely, and more than once she’d had to suppress the urge to run home to her family despite the chaos and insanity. But she’d been determined to carve out her own life and she had.

Her neighbor, Jill, had become a close friend, as had the younger professors at the college, while one of the older deans had practically adopted Ariana and they shared tea once a week. It was the staid, predictable, comfortable life she’d sought, but coming home showed her all she’d been missing, both good and bad.

And she was about to embark onto the bad, snooping around the casino in the hopes of finding her twin. As long as her mother was calm about her resolve to remain at Damon’s, Ariana didn’t care if trust in Quinn was the reason. Even if she didn’t trust him herself.

Though he’d never promised her anything, she was furious at him for disappointing her and even madder at herself for caring. Because she’d been starting to care about him. Because she still did. But the fact remained he didn’t trust her enough to confide the truth and so he’d put the wall between them.

She glanced around the pot-filled, cluttered kitchen and inhaled the awful smell. All were a reminder of the childhood embarrassments she’d been running from. Yet despite her resolve to keep her distance as well as her sanity, she couldn’t deny she loved her family as much as they loved her.

So she forced a smile for her mother’s sake. “Actually, I’m off tonight. I haven’t had time to visit with Aunt Kassie and the cousins since I’ve been back.” The more grounded side of the family, Ariana thought. Which, considering the Costas clan, wasn’t saying much.

Quinn dribbled the basketball around the old gym at the rec center and took a shot at the basket. The ball hit the rim and bounced off. Damn, his concentration was off, Quinn thought, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Only hours had passed since he’d had Ari in his hotel room-warm, willing, and all over him. She’d been so close to coming apart. Yet he hadn’t even had a chance to indulge in his deeper fantasies of sinking his fingers inside her warm, moist body and feeling her clench around him. He’d never been so affected by a woman in his goddamn life. She was all he could think about.

But she obviously had her mind elsewhere. She’d ignored him unless she was coolly making conversation that was forced on her by proximity. Worse, she’d done everything she could to undermine his attempt to keep her safe at Damon’s. She’d left ahead of him, driving herself to work. This was something he’d discovered after the fact, when he’d gone to pick her up. While he was being mooned by the monkey again, Ariana was one step ahead of him. He’d then caught her trying to pick the lock on his office door with a bobby pin, and she’d remained stubbornly silent about what she was looking for. In general, she’d been causing him trouble.

He grabbed the ball off the floor and tossed it toward the basket, but missed again.

“You still suck,” Connor called out to him.

Forcing his mind to clear, Quinn dribbled some more and took a free throw from the middle of the court, sinking the ball clean. “I’d like to see you hang one like that.”