Bared by the Billionaire (3 page)

Patterson smiled, a cold smile that never reached his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said. “Once you have an attorney involved, we can’t offer you the same type of deal we can when it’s just between us.” He waved to his two companions, standing silently behind him, then went on, more softly. “We don’t really want you, Miss Thornton. We want your ex-boyfriend. But we have to have someone to hold accountable. And if that ends up being you, well, we’ll just have to settle for hauling your pretty little ass off to jail.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. What ex-boyfriend?”

Patterson put an obviously phony look of concern on his face. “Maybe you haven’t heard? Alejandro Cabrera married his longtime sweetheart Marisol De Leon over the weekend in Medellin. I’m told it was a lavish affair. Over three hundred guests. The happy couple is honeymooning at an undisclosed location, according to the society pages in last Sunday’s paper there.”

Kyra shook her head. Impossible. She would have known. Somehow. She wasn’t that stupid, that gullible. This FBI guy was lying, trying to rattle her just like they did on TV. She reached for the phone again and Patterson snapped his fingers. One of the other men, she didn’t know which was which, handed him an envelope. He opened it and dumped the contents on her desk. Photos. Taken with a long-range lens. There was Alejandro, in a white tux, arms around a stunning blonde wearing a wedding dress that must have cost thousands. There were other pictures. Cutting a four-foot-tall cake, mingling with guests in formal attire.

She forced herself to stay calm. “Nice try. I may have my head buried in corporate ledgers but even I’ve heard of Photoshop. I’ve been working with Alejandro for over a year and he never mentioned a fiancée.”

Patterson’s voice was pitched low. “Yes, we’re aware of just how closely you
worked
. But I wouldn’t expect him to discuss his wedding plans in Colombia with the woman he was setting up to take the fall here in Miami. Tell me, was the fucking you got worth the fucking you’re gonna get?”

Kyra’s eyes flashed with anger. “How
dare
you? Get out of my office right now!”

“Okay. We’ll play it your way. See you soon.”

Patterson sauntered out of the office without a backward glance, followed by the other two who still had never said a word. He left the photos scattered around on her desk.

Kyra closed her eyes and willed herself not to throw up all over them. The situation she was in was her own damn fault. She’d turned a blind eye to that feeling in her gut, the one that left her uneasy at times. She and Alejandro had shared some great times. He had taken her salsa dancing in the hot Miami clubs, they’d spent an occasional weekend on his boat, cruising the Intracoastal down to the Keys, and he’d been generous to a fault and seemed disappointed when she’d turned down his offer to pay off her condo.

Thinking back now, she had to admit he’d never really confided in her. He was often evasive when she asked questions, but she’d chalked that up to a typical male’s reluctance to share his feelings. She’d been too wrapped up in her own issues to give it much concern, grieving the loss of her parents who died not long after she and Alejandro became involved. They were celebrating their thirty-fifth anniversary with dinner at a South Beach restaurant. On their way home, a drunken businessman who just closed a huge deal with a major corporate client slammed into their little Mazda. He was driving a big Yukon and walked away without a scratch. Even worse, he’d had the money to hire a crack legal defense team and they’d managed to convince the jury that her father had somehow been at fault.

Alejandro had been there for her through it all, supportive, giving her a shoulder to cry on when she was hit by a wave of grief. Even so, she hadn’t expected a happily-ever-after with him. He was too interested in having a good time, not serious enough about his career or his future for her to consider him as a lifetime partner. But she never expected to be set up to take the blame for his massive fraud, ripping off influential clients to the tune of millions.

Kyra steeled herself, put all the useless reminiscing out of her head, and got back to business. She asked her secretary to hold all calls and began contacting law firms. Everyone seemed to be out to lunch already, or at a meeting. Legal assistants listened gravely to the few details she felt comfortable sharing and promised that she’d get a call back ASAP.

She was staring out the window, her mind thankfully blank for a moment, when she heard a soft knock at the door. Without waiting for a response, the door opened and Agent Patterson—or rather Special Agent in Charge Patterson, she reminded herself—peeked in at her.

His smile was warm, disarming. “Forgive me for intruding,” he said. “I’m all alone this time. May I speak with you privately for a few moments? It’s quite important.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, coming to the desk and drawing up a chair.

“Miss Thornton… may I call you Kyra?” Once again, he continued, taking her silence for assent. “Kyra, I want to formally apologize for my behavior earlier. You’re an intelligent woman. I’m sure you understand that there’s a certain format we’re required to follow when we are investigating a crime. That’s why the bureau has several people at each interview—to make sure rules are followed. But we’re alone now and I’d like to speak frankly with you.

“I’ve looked over this case,” he went on, “and just between you and me, I’m convinced that you’re an innocent victim here. A woman as attractive as yourself, with the brains to run the finances of a large international company and no record of any previous wrongdoing—well, let’s just say you don’t fit the profile of our usual criminal.”

Kyra just stared at him. Was this another one of his tactics? The good cop, bad cop act, with him playing both roles? He was really quite attractive when he smiled. If she wasn’t so terrified about her immediate future, Patterson was the type of man she might have fantasized about when she was all alone later tonight.

As though sensing her distrust, Patterson leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and opened his arms expansively. “I’m not here to trick you into anything. I’m here to offer you my help. What I said earlier was the truth. We don’t want you. We want the person or persons who masterminded this theft. A lot of influential people invested in this corporation and they’re looking for someone’s head on a platter—along with their money. But personally, I don’t think Alejandro Cabrera had the brains to pull off a heist on this scale.”

Kyra nodded her head gravely, not trusting her voice to not quaver. Inside, she agreed with him. Alejandro was intelligent, but his was more of an innate cunning. She’d been shocked yesterday when she discovered the complexity of his theft. He moved the money around so quickly, then made it disappear, leaving no trace except for the one leading to her involvement. In all their time together, he never struck her as being that competent on a computer.

Patterson went on, lowering his voice. “Kyra, let’s work together. I think I can get my bosses to hold off on any formal charges against you if you’ll agree to assist us in our investigation. If we nab the person at the bottom of this, I guarantee you’ll never be charged with any crime.”

“Assist you?” This man was throwing her a lifeline. But she’d learned if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was. “How exactly would I be assisting you?”

Patterson leaned forward. “Have you heard of Jake Harmon?”

“The billionaire tech guy? Who hasn’t?”

“As you know, Harmon invested several million in International Technology Consultants. He got a few of his buddies to dump big money into this company as well. And once the word was discreetly leaked that Jake Harmon was buying into a company that was poised to take over the tech business in the growing South American market, investors jumped on board.”

Kyra nodded. All it took was one big name to start a river of money flowing in Miami. And Alejandro achieved that when he got Jake Harmon to endorse him. Kyra had been introduced to Harmon once, at a formal event Alejandro hosted last spring at Vizcaya, the Coral Gables bay front mansion-turned-museum. Always looking to impress people, Alejandro had rented the palatial house and grounds for an evening, inviting a handful of local celebrities along with some of his biggest investors and plenty of potential new ones. Harmon made a rare public appearance, shook a few hands, posed for photo ops with Alejandro—doing just enough to give Alejandro the leverage he needed to attract more money to his start-up. Seeing him in person, she remembered thinking Harmon was much too handsome to fit the image of the geeky tech genius described in all the articles she’d read about him.

“I think Harmon is behind all of this,” Patterson was saying. “He’s lost a couple million, but to him that’s like losing a handful of pocket change in the couch. He can claim he’s a victim of fraud, like all the others. But behind the scenes, I believe he’s the one who’s been pulling the strings. He has the know-how to make all that money disappear into thin air. He’ll give Alejandro his cut and walk away with the lion’s share of the money.”

“Why would someone as rich as Jake Harmon need to steal from his friends?”

“That’s where you come in, Kyra. I think Harmon is having cash flow problems. His company is worth billions on paper, but none of that is money he can get his hands on unless he goes public with his stock. He’s gone out on a limb recently, holed himself up in his penthouse for months, spending money like water. Word on the street is that he’s creating some hot new tech device that will change our lives forever, blah, blah, blah. The usual hype. So far, all I have are theories. I need someone with a mind like yours on the inside of Harmon’s operation, someone who can look at his confidential financial records and immediately see the holes in them. Harmon’s company is privately held, so he doesn’t have to file documents with the SEC. We’ve gone over his tax returns, but the man has an army of accountants and attorneys working for him. He’s got so many layers of protection that it’s impossible to penetrate them. We can’t find proof of any wrongdoing.”

“And what exactly do you think I can do?” Her tone was cool. So far, Patterson’s theory was logical. Harmon had the reputation of keeping things secret. In the past, he’d spend a big chunk of his fortune on each new idea he was developing while allowing the rumor mill to drive up interest. Then he’d unveil his newest tech device with a fanfare to hordes of people already desperate to own the latest Harmon creation without having any idea of what it was or what it could do. Like everyone else in the small club that made up the top of the tech industry, she’d been hearing rumors lately that he had something new in the works, something huge.

“I want you to go undercover, get inside Harmon’s organization, find out the truth. Word is, the man is looking for someone with your qualifications right now. We have a contact, another investor who lost big bucks thanks to following Harmon’s lead. He can get you in to see Harmon for a personal interview. Let’s face it, as of yesterday, you’re unemployed. This company is bankrupt. The few assets left will be tied up in legal battles for years… and so will you, unless you join us.”

Patterson pulled his chair closer to the desk and reached for Kyra’s hand. “This is your chance—a chance to clear your name and help all the other innocent victims these two have scammed. You need a job and I need someone I can trust inside Harmon’s company. What do you say, Kyra—can I count on you?”

She met his earnest gaze steadily. Maybe the old Kyra would have been swept away by the combination of his good looks and the chance to get out of this horrible mess with her freedom and her reputation intact. But her instincts told her there was more to his offer, something he wasn’t telling her. And this time she wasn’t going to ignore those instincts the way she had with Alejandro.

“My father had a saying, Agent Patterson. ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I’ll admit I was fooled by Alejandro. That’s what got me into this situation. But I’m not walking into another illegal operation without knowing exactly what’s in store for me there. If you want me to work with the FBI, you’re going to have to tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me.”

Patterson stared her down for a moment, then laughed. “Damn, you are good. I heard you were smart, but I had no idea how smart.”

Kyra knew when she was being played. She just stared back at him and finally Patterson caved in.

“Okay. There is something I didn’t tell you about Harmon and this job.”

He looked her up and down with the frank appraisal of a man on the prowl and went on. “Rumor is that Harmon is looking for a… well, shall we say a partner for his personal life who shares his special interests. Not just some bimbo he can hire for a night, but someone who matches him in intellect, someone he can talk to afterwards. Our inside source heard him mention your name after he met you last spring as someone he’d like to get to know better. But at the time it was well known that you were Alejandro’s property. And Alejandro had a strict hands-off policy when it came to his women.”

His women? His property? And what did Patterson mean by ‘special interests’? Kyra wanted to reach across the desk and choke the man. Where did he get the idea that she’d ever been anyone’s
property?

He must have seen the flash of pure rage in her eyes because he hurried on. “Alejandro was quite talkative, you know. Word got around and Harmon was intrigued. Your boyfriend bragged to his business acquaintances about you and the relationship you two had. He said he was a serious dom and described you as the perfect sub. And I’m told that’s what Harmon is looking for, now that he’s discovered the thrill of BDSM.”

Kyra flushed with embarrassment. Apparently not only had Alejandro destroyed her career, but he had also betrayed her personally, laying out her darkest secrets for the whole world to know. She’d always been attracted to the idea of being a submissive, but never had the nerve to explore her desires until he came along. She never dreamed he was revealing her shameful behavior to all his friends. Now apparently even the FBI knew she was a closet spanko, someone who got off on the idea of being dominated.