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Dalton ducked his head to meet Cassie’s eyes. He gave her a meaningful look. “Honey, are you getting out?”
Swimming and sun bathing topless was fine? Right.
She started when her door opened. Mary Jane had come around the car and opened it.
“We have a very special room set up for you and Mr. Styles. I’ll take you both inside and then I’ll get your luggage.”
“Call me Cassie.”
“Of course, whatever you prefer.” Mary Jane had never stopped smiling, reminding her of a Stepford wife. She stepped back to give Cassie room.
Cassie got out of the car and gave Dalton a look that said, This better not be weird.
“If you follow me I’ll give you a tour of the house, point out the common areas where we socialize. Some of the rooms are used for private business, of course. But I’m sure that’s of no interest to you.”
Cassie and Dalton exchanged looks. Wrong. The private quarters were of far more interest. Excitement began to simmer inside Cassie. This was a real case. Big enough that it had attracted the attention of the government. And she’d landed right smack-dab in the middle of the action.
Dalton was right. Why jump to conclusions about this place? Why let a topless woman derail her?
Mary Jane came up alongside Cassie and hooked an arm through hers, and then hooked her other arm around Dalton’s. She flashed a grin at both of them. “Are we ready?”
“Lead on,” Dalton said, and winked at Cassie.
It was a very intimate wink, a kind of shared joke, giving Cassie a funny feeling.
“You’re gonna love it here. I promise. We have hot tubs and saunas and an Olympic-size pool.” Mary Jane chattered all the way up the stairs and into the beautiful hardwood foyer. “All your meals will be healthy and nutritious and prepared on the premises.”
Dalton grunted and disengaged himself from Mary Jane. “We better not be talking sprouts and wheat germ.”
Mary Jane laughed and lightly jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re so funny.” And then she pranced on ahead of them.
Dalton frowned at Cassie. “Was that a yes or a no?”
She shrugged.
“I eat meat. I like meat.”
“Healthy doesn’t mean fanatic.” She smiled and followed Mary Jane, but tossed over her shoulder, “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
He muttered something she couldn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear. Instead, she listened to Mary Jane point out the parlor where everyone gathered before dinner.
“Cocktails are usually served around six.” She glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch. “Which is in about fifteen minutes. Perfect. You can meet everyone then.”
“You mean real cocktails?” Dalton asked with narrowed-eyed suspicion. “Not like carrot juice or anything like that?”
Mary Jane giggled and glanced at Cassie. “He’s so funny.”
Cassie couldn’t help laughing herself. She didn’t dare look at the expression on Dalton’s face, or she’d really lose it. Her nerves were taut, her emotions running high and she knew herself. She was likely to break out into hysterics.
“Over here is the dining room where you’ll have your meals, or sometimes we eat on the patio. We’ll even send you room service if there’s, you know, something special going on you’d rather not interrupt.”
“Great.” Cassie forced a smile, and refused to look at Dalton. “Can we see our room now?”
He came up alongside her and captured her hand. “Anxious, honey?”
She rolled her eyes, and realized Mary Jane saw her. “Dalton has been sleeping on the couch for the past week. I’d like to maintain that arrangement.”
Mary Jane shook her finger. “Now, now. That’s why we’re all here. To smooth out our differences.”
Cassie pursed her lips in thought, and then said, “Tell me, Mary Jane. Have you ever been married?”
The woman laughed. “You’re funny, too. Now, we’re going upstairs. Follow me.”
Dalton put his lips close to Cassie’s ear. “I guess we’re both just hilarious.”
His warm breath tickled the sensitive skin on the side of her neck and she shivered. He gripped her hand tighter. She hadn’t realized he still held it.
She pulled away, just as Mary Jane stopped midway up the stairs and turned around. “You’ll have to hurry if you want to make the cocktail hour and meet the others.”
Cassie moved ahead of Dalton. “They’ll be wearing clothes, I trust.”
Mary Jane smiled. “I promise,” she said, and resumed climbing the stairs.
Her shorts were so short they left nothing to the imagination. In fact, Cassie caught glimpses of a naked cheek, which meant Mary Jane was wearing no underwear or a thong. Dalton had the same view. She wanted to turn around to see his reaction, but she didn’t dare. He’d probably think she was jealous.
After making it up to the midpoint herself, she realized he hadn’t followed. She looked over her shoulder to find him still standing at the bottom of the stairs. Staring at her butt.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I’m going to get the bags from the car and meet you up there.”
Mary Jane stood on the landing and leaned over the rail. “I’ll take care of that.”
“The bags are heavy. I’ll only be minute.”
“Well, okay…” Mary Jane made a face. “But leave the keys in the car so I can move it to the garage later.”
He shook his head. “Nobody drives that baby but me.”
Mary Jane gave him one of her toothy grins. “I’ll only be behind the wheel for a minute. The garages are directly in back.”
“Then I’ll just go ahead and do it myself before I bring in the bags.” Dalton dug the keys out of his pocket. “I’ll find you.”
Clearly displeased, Mary Jane watched Dalton retrace their steps. With the sunny disposition gone, she looked a little hard, older, too. She realized Cassie was staring at her and she immediately flashed a smile.
“He’s very stubborn,” Cassie said as she met her on the landing. “That’s why we have so many problems.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you’re here for. Hopefully, by the end of the week, you’ll have a better understanding of each other. Robert, uh, Mr. Blankenship is very good at pinpointing problem areas in the marriage.”
“Hell, I can do that. I knew this trip was a waste of time. Maybe I ought to tell Dalton to leave those bags right in the car.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest and pretended to look out the window for Dalton. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Mary Jane’s expression get ugly. Oh, she was in on Bask’s scheme, all right.
“Now, you’re being hasty. Isn’t saving your marriage worth one week of your time?” She was all smiles again when Cassie turned to her.
“I suppose.” Cassie sighed in her best put-upon wife imitation. “Let’s go see our room.”
“Right this way.” Mary Jane threw one final look toward the front door and then led Cassie down to the end of the hall. “You have a corner room with a view of the pool and gardens,” she said, opening the door. “It’s the best one, in my opinion.”
She stood aside while Cassie preceded her. The room was large, really large, with lots of windows and French doors that led to a verandah. Two large vases of fresh flowers had been set out on the antique mahogany desk nestled in the corner of the sitting area, and the white vanity table and chair close to the window. The queen-size sleigh bed was antique, as were the cherry nightstands and armoire.
The burgundy and cream décor was plush and gorgeous, like a suite at the Ritz, and Cassie caught herself just in time. Her mouth had nearly dropped open. But she was supposed to be rich. This should be no big deal to her.
She tried to look bored. “Don’t we have a small fridge or something to keep bottled water cold?”
“Right here.” She went to the corner and pulled back a folding panel that looked to be made of raw silk. “You have an entire wet bar, fully stocked.”
“Fine.” Cassie ducked her head into the bathroom. Under a skylight was an enormous tub surrounded by a blue marble floor.
Mary Jane came up behind her. “The tub is also a whirlpool bath. And of course there’s a glass shower stall over there.”
“Very nice.” Cassie fingered the emerald green velour towels and asked casually, “Does Mr. Blankenship own this house?”
“He leases it.”
“It’s a lovely home.”
“Yes, elegant but homey. Perfect for our clientele. Oh, and did I tell you there’s a large walk-in closet?” Mary Jane opened a narrow door and gestured inside. “It’s stocked with plenty of hangers, but let me know if you need more.”
Cassie looked inside as she was expected to. “Has Mr. Blankenship been running this place long?”
The other woman’s brows pulled together in a slight frown and she seemed to briefly assess Cassie. “I don’t know. I’ve only been with him for a few months. Your husband seems to be taking a long time.”
Cassie waved a dismissive hand, privately wondering about Dalton himself. “He’s probably wiping down his new toy. His mother just bought him the Jag.” She sighed dramatically. “I’m a little nervous about being here.”
Mary Jane’s expression softened. “Everyone is nervous at first.”
“Frankly, even though I was the one who pushed Dalton into this, I don’t know anything about Mr. Blankenship. Like how long he’s been doing this…his success rate…or anything.”
Understanding registered in Mary Jane’s eyes. If Cassie’s questions had made her suspicious, the crisis was over. “Don’t worry. Really.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t quote statistics, but I know that most couples leave here with renewed interest in each other. Of the repeats, four out of five marriages remain intact.”
“Repeats?”
“You know, after a month or so, most couples come back for a refresher course.”
Oh, brother. Cassie’s stomach flipped flopped. One week here was bad enough.
Mary Jane started for the door. “Where is that husband of yours?”
“Here I am.” Dalton appeared in the doorway suddenly. “You girls miss me?”
“Girls?” Cassie gave him an arched look.
“What? Is that politically incorrect?” He shrugged, directing a wink at Mary Jane as he set down their two suitcases.
Cassie made a sound of exasperation. “See why I need a couch for him?”
He gave her a private warning look. “Come on now, honey, you aren’t going to start that again.”
Mary Jane smiled and then looked at her watch. “Oops! Cocktail hour has started. Freshen up, and then come on down and meet the group.” She closed the door on her way out.
“The closet is over there.” Cassie pointed and then headed for the bathroom.
“Excuse me.”
She glanced at him.
“Are you expecting me to carry your bag to the closet? Wouldn’t that be politically incorrect?”
She put a hand on her hip. “Did I ask you to carry it?”
He smiled and picked up her bag along with his. “Don’t get huffy. It was only a question.”
“Do you want the bathroom first?”
“No, you go ahead.” Ignoring her curt tone, he added, “See, we can be pretty civil when we put our minds to it.”
He signaled something with his eyes she didn’t understand. But it would have to wait. Nature called insistently. She slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. After she’d taken care of the important business, she splashed her face with water that wasn’t nearly as cold as her feet.
What was she so nervous about? Everything was going smoothly. Mary Jane was a bit of an airhead, which worked to their advantage. From all reports, Bask shunned violence. If anything went wrong, and he got suspicious, he’d be the first one to hit the road.
So why was she so edgy? Even if they were discovered, Dalton was here. He had a lot of experience. He could easily handle any physical confrontation.
Oh, God. Talk about being an airhead. Dalton was the problem. No more denying it.
She gave her face another dousing before she dried off. How could she possibly find that aggravating man so sexy? Sure, he had great biceps. With the way his polo shirt hugged his arms, anyone would notice. Just like the fit of his snug jeans. Of course she’d taken note of his great butt. Any red-blooded woman would.
She groaned and threw the towel back on the rack. She’d have to get out both her hairbrush and toothbrush before she went downstairs. For now she combed her fingers through her hair. It hung limp from the humidity but she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She gave it an extra fluff and then opened the door.
Dalton was sprawled out across the bed. Not just on one side, but more in the middle. He grinned and patted the side closest to her. “Great mattress. Come try it out.”
She swallowed. “I’ll flip you for it.”
“Cassie…” He drawled her name like a warning.
“Heads you get the bed. Tails you get the floor.”
“Come on, honey.” Before she could respond, he put a silencing finger to his lips, and crooked his other one, beckoning her to come closer.
She hesitated at first, but he looked serious, not like he was baiting her, so she carefully sat on the edge of the mattress. He shook his head and motioned for her to move closer. She inched in, and leaned toward him.
He cupped the back of her neck and drew her close to his face. “I think the room is bugged,” he whispered.
