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“First of all, are you taking those vitamin supplements I told you about?” Wesley asked.
York shook his head. One of the pitfalls of hiring the men was that they liked to run his life by making sure he got the proper rest, ate healthy and didn’t overdo it when it came to women. They claimed all three things would eventually take a toll on a man.
“Yes, I’m taking them, so what do you have?”
“I think Damien Felder might be your man,” Wesley said with certainty.
“Why?”
“He has a ton of gambling debts.”
York rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “He’s a gambler?”
“Of the worse kind. Although he’s tried covering his tracks, I was able to trace his ties to the Medina family.”
“Damn.” The Medina family had their hands into anything illegal they could touch. York hadn’t gotten wind of them involved in movie piracy before now, though. Mainly it’d been drugs, prostitution and the transportation of illegal immigrants.
And Roswell Medina’s name had been linked to the homicide investigation involving Rhona, the only woman York had ever considered marrying. Like him she had been a police officer and had gotten struck down by a bullet when she had investigated a robbery. The authorities believed the rash of burglaries in Harlem had been organized by Medina but could never prove it.
“I can see them getting interested, if they had the right person on the inside to help them. It’s evidently a profitable business,” York added.
“Apparently.”
He inhaled a deep sigh. He knew Damien Felder would be the one to watch for a while. “I want all the information you can get me on Felder’s association with any of the Medinas.” He would just love to nail any member of that crime family for something, even if it was for jaywalking.
As he headed back toward his side of the hotel he thought about Darcy and doubted the two of them would be running into each other again any time soon.
Hell, he hoped not.
A twenty-piece orchestra on the beach.
The hotel had thought of everything, Darcy concluded as she stepped outside. Everyone had been told that tonight’s affair was all glitz and glamour, and everyone had dressed to the nines. Men were in tuxes and women were in beautiful gowns. She had decided to wear the short white lace dress and silver sandals she had purchased a few months ago when she had joined Ellie on a shopping spree when she’d visited her best friend in Charlotte.
With a glass of champagne in her hand, Darcy made her way down the white stone steps with towering balustrades on both sides. She could see the beach and see how the water was shimmering beneath the glow of the moon. To her right, tables of food had been set up, and shrimp, lobsters and oysters were being steamed on an open fire.
For those not wanting to get sand in their shoes, a huge wooden deck had been placed on the ground, and several light fixtures provided just the right amount of light to the affair.
She was about to grab another flute of champagne from a passing waiter when she happened to glance across the way and saw a man looking at her. He looked American and she placed his age in his late thirties. And she had to give it to him—he looked like a million bucks in his black tux.
But compared to York there was something lacking. He was handsome, although he wasn’t of the jaw-dropping kind like York Ellis. And she would have to be the first to concede that even with all the stranger’s handsomeness, she couldn’t even conjure up what hero he could represent from those tons of romance novels she had read. She’d had no such problem with York.
She bit down on her lip wondering why she’d just made the comparison. Why had York even crossed her mind? The stranger smiled over at her, and she smiled back before another partier walked up to him and claimed his attention. At least it hadn’t been a woman. As she sipped her champagne, she saw him glance over her way, as if assuring himself she was still there—still unattached, possibly still interested.
Deciding not to appear too interested, she began mingling, enjoying the sights and sounds. Moments later, she was leaning against a balustrade watching a group of the island dancers perform. Their movements were so romantic and breathtaking beneath the stars.
“I can tell you are enjoying yourself,” a deep, husky male voice said.
The first thought that flashed through her mind was that it wasn’t as deep as York’s, and it wasn’t making her skin feel like it was being caressed. Pushing that observation to the back of her mind, she looked up at the stranger she’d seen earlier and asked, “And just how can you tell?”
“You have that look. And whatever the cause of it, do you mind sharing it because I’m simply bored.”
She fought from shaking her head. She had heard that pickup line so many other times, surely the man could have thought of something else. But she could go along with it for now. “Then I guess I need to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as I do.”
He smiled, flashing her perfect white teeth. “I would definitely appreciate it.” He then held his hand out to her. “I’m Damien Felder, by the way.”
She returned his smile. “And I’m Darcy Owens.”
“Please to meet you, Darcy. And is that a Midwestern accent I hear?”
“Yes, it is,” she replied. “And yours is part southern and part western.”
Instead of saying whether her assumption was correct, he took a step closer to her. “Are you staying at this hotel?”
She didn’t have to wonder why he was asking. The man was a fast mover, and she had no problem with that if her vibes had been in sync with his. They weren’t for some reason. “Yes, I’m at this hotel. What about you?”
“No, my hotel is a few miles from here. I was invited tonight by a friend. But an emergency came up, and he had to leave the island. He encouraged me to come anyway. He thought I would enjoy myself. I hadn’t been until I saw you.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And why would a beautiful woman travel to this island alone?”
She took a sip of her champagne and smiled as she looked up at him. “What makes you think I’m alone?”
A gleam appeared in the depths of his brown eyes. “Because no man with a lick of sense would let you out of his sight for long.”
Darcy smiled. The man was full of compliments, although she’d heard most of them before. “I needed a little vacation.” And before he could ask her anything else, she decided to ask him a question. “So what brings you to the island?”
“I’m associated with a movie that will be filmed on the island starting tomorrow.”
She lifted a brow. “A movie?”
He chuckled. “Yes, one from Spirit Head Productions.”
She nodded. She had heard of them. In fact, their main headquarters were in New York. “Let me guess,” she said smiling. “You’re the leading man.”
From his expression, she could tell he enjoyed getting compliments as much as he enjoyed giving them. “No, I hold an administrative position. I’m a line producer.”
“Sounds exciting.”
He met her gaze. “It is. How would you like me to give you a tour of the set tomorrow?”
She thought his offer was certainly generous, and she could tell from the way he was looking at her he thought so too and expected her to jump at it. So she did, all but clapping her hands in fake excitement. “Oh, that would be wonderful. I’d love to.”
“Well then, it’s settled. Now how about if I come up to your room tonight so I’ll know where to come get you tomorrow.”
“I prefer that we meet in the lobby.”
She could see the disappointment flash in his eyes. She all but shrugged at the thought. He might eventually share her bed before she left the island, but he would work hard for the privilege. So far she didn’t feel a connection to him but was hoping it was just her and not him. For some reason when she looked at him, visions of York entered her mind. And that wasn’t good.
“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?”
She smiled. “No. In fact, it’s been a tiring day for me. I think I’ll call it an early night and go back up to my room now,” she said.
“Alone?” he asked.
“Yes, alone. I’m recovering from a flu bug and don’t want to overdo it.”
“I understand, and I wouldn’t want you to overdo it either.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my business card. Call me when you get up in the morning. Maybe we can share breakfast.”
“Thanks, and I will give you a call,” she said, taking the card.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you back to your room?”
“Thanks for the offer but I’m positive. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Damien.”
And then she walked off, knowing he was still watching her. She knew he thought he had her within his scope, but he would soon discover that she was the one who had him in hers.
York stood in the shadows, behind the orchestra stand, and sipped his wine. He watched the man he’d identified earlier that day as Damien Felder, hitting on Darcy Owens of all people. And from the way the man was still looking at Darcy as she disappeared among the other partiers, he was definitely interested in her. That York could understand. Not only did she have striking features but the dress she was wearing showed a pair of gorgeous legs and a very curvy body.
“Damn.” He drew in a deep breath. The man’s interest in Darcy was the last thing York needed. Based on the report Wesley had given him earlier, Felder was the last person she should even be talking to. Even Malcolm and his group didn’t know half the stuff Damien Felder was involved in, but York didn’t plan on sharing any of it with them until he had concrete proof to back it up.
But first he needed to make sure Darcy stayed out of the picture. He had seen the moment Felder had slid his business card into the palm of her hand. Since York could read lips—something he taught himself to do after his sister was born deaf—he knew that Felder had invited her on set tomorrow. He wasn’t sure what her response had been since Felder had been the one facing him, while Darcy’s back had been to him.
The man had also tried inviting himself up to Darcy’s room, which she apparently turned down since she had left the party alone. At least York was grateful for that. He felt a deep pull in his stomach and tried convincing himself that the only reason he was grateful was because he was looking out for her. After all, she was Ellie’s best friend, so that was the least he could do. Wanting to keep her out of the picture had nothing to do with the jealousy he’d felt when he’d seen Felder approach her. He assured himself that it hadn’t been jealousy, just concern. Besides, too much was at stake with this case, and the last thing he needed was Darcy screwing things up.
He was about to leave when he noticed Felder giving the nod to another woman at the party. He recognized her immediately—Danielle Simone, the leading lady in the movie they were filming. Malcolm was pretty convinced that Danielle was not in any way a part of the black market ring. Now York wasn’t so sure when he watched as she walked toward the beach with Felder following her, keeping a careful distance.
Interesting. He couldn’t help wonder what that was about. Were the two having a secret affair? His cell phone rang, and he picked it up. It was one of his men who was attending the party undercover. “Yes, Mark, I picked up on the two. Follow them from here, and let me know where they go and what they do.”
He clicked off the phone, satisfied his man was on it and wouldn’t let the couple out of his sight. York then turned toward the part of the hotel where Darcy’s room was located.
Darcy had showered and slipped into the hotel’s complimentary bathrobe when she heard a knock on her hotel room door. She frowned, wondering who it could be. It was way past midnight, although she was sure a number of people were still at the party having a good time.
She crossed the room to look out the peephole in the door, and a frown settled around her mouth. York Ellis. Why on earth would he visit her room, and most importantly, how did he know her room number? She knew for certain that she had not given it to him.
Knowing he was the only person who could answer that question, she tightened the belt around her robe before taking off the lock and snatching open the door. “York, what on earth are you doing here, and how do you know my room number?”
“We need to talk.”
“What?” she asked as she nearly drowned in the dark eyes staring down at her. She’d always thought they were such a gorgeous pair—although she would never admit such a thing to him or anyone else for that matter. She wouldn’t even confess it to Ellie. Nor would she ever mention how heat would course through her body whenever he stood this close to her. She’d noticed it that first time they’d met, which was why she had deliberately avoided him. The last thing she had needed at the time was to be attracted to a man after what she’d gone through with her ex-husband.
“I said we need to talk, Darcy.”
She stiffened her spine and glared at him. “Why? And you haven’t answered my question. How did you get my room number?”
He leaned in the doorway, and her gaze watched his every movement at the same time her nostrils inhaled his manly scent. Her heart skipped a beat when her gaze roamed over him. He looked good in a tux. Had he attended the party when he’d said earlier that day that he wouldn’t be doing so?
“I have ways of finding out anything I want to know, Darcy.”
The deep huskiness of his voice had her gaze returning back to his. Even leaning in the doorway, he was towering over her. For some reason, her gaze shifted to his hands. This wasn’t the first time she had noticed just how large they were. Heat spread throughout her body when she recalled the theory about the size of a man’s hands and feet in comparison to another part of his anatomy. Automatically her gaze shifted to his feet.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
She snatched her gaze up to him. He had caught her checking him out again. “No, I was just thinking.” That wasn’t a total lie. He didn’t have to know what she was thinking about. “And as far as you having ways of finding out whatever you want to know … well, that’s probably true, but you won’t hold a single conversation with me unless you tell me what it’s about.”
He rubbed his hand down his face as if annoyed with her. “It’s about Damien Felder. You were flirting with him at the party tonight.”
They were flirting with each other, but his impression of how things had been meant nothing to her. “I thought you weren’t going to the party.”
“I changed my mind.”
“And you know Damien?”
He shook his head. “No, but I know of Damien, which is what I want to talk to you about.”
There was no denying that York had her curious. “Very well, come in.”
She took a step back, and he entered her hotel room and closed the door behind him. He glanced around the room, and when his gaze returned to her, it seemed the intensity in the depths of his eyes was pinning her in place.
She drew in a deep breath, refusing to get caught like a deer in the headlights where he was concerned. So she tightened the sash of her robe around her even more and broke eye contact with him and beckoned him to the sofa. “Have a seat and let’s talk.”
She watched him move to the sofa while heat spread throughout her body. He looked too darn comfortable for her liking. There was something about the way he was sitting, with his arms spread across the back of the sofa, that made her want to slide down on the sofa with him, ease the tux jacket off his shoulders and run her hands across the broad width of his chest.
Where on earth had those thoughts come from? This was York Ellis, the one man she didn’t get along with, the one man who seemed to enjoy rubbing her the wrong way whenever their paths crossed. “What about Damien?” she spoke up and asked, reminding herself the only reason he was sitting on her sofa was because she was interested in what he had to say.
For some reason, the mention of Damien made him lean closer, cause something akin to anger to flash across his features. “You met him tonight.”
She heard the censure in his tone and wondered the reason for it. “Yes, and why do you care?”
Evidently her question stumped him. The irritation in his face was replaced by a slow smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Personally, I don’t other than the fact that you’re screwing things up for me and my investigation.”
She bit down on her lips as she struggled to keep a civil tongue. “What investigation?”
As he sat back, York drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the anger that was flowing through him. And it was anger he could not explain. What she did and who she did it with was her business. He shouldn’t care one bit, and he had tried convincing himself that he didn’t. But the truth of the matter was that he did. There was no way he would allow her to blindly walk into a dangerous situation.
“I wasn’t absolutely up front with you earlier today when I gave my reason for being here on the island.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. I’m here on a job. My company was hired by a group of moviemakers for security detail on a movie being filmed, the same one Felder is associated with. And while my outfit is doing that, I’m working behind the scenes to protect their interest. Someone is slipping the movies to the black market before their theatrical release.”
She lifted a brow. “And what does that have to do with Damien Felder?”
It was hard to explain why a part of him wanted to kiss her and strangle her at the same time. What was there about her that could drive him to such extremes? “I have reason to believe Felder might be involved in some way.”
“Do you have any proof?”
“No.”
