Intimate Betrayal (18 page)

R
eese went back to Maxwell's office after her interview with R.J., hoping to catch him before his meeting, but he was gone. She strolled across the office toward the window.

Looking beyond the smoggy horizon, she was filled with a sense of unease. There was something not quite right about R.J., but she couldn't put her finger on it.

She shook her head and turned away, wrapping her arms around her body as she retraced her steps to the other side. It was probably her imagination, she concluded, taking a seat and crossing her long legs. With everything else that was going on, she was getting paranoid, seeing skeletons in every closet.

Turning her left wrist, she checked her watch. It was 11:30 a.m. in Chicago. Lynnette should be in her office by now, if she wasn't out on an assignment. She could kick herself for not calling her friend before she left, but Reese was confident that once she got Lynnette talking everything would be fine.

She dug in her bag, plucked out her calling card, and called the Chicago office.

“Lynn. Hi, it's me.”

Lynnette sucked her teeth long and hard. “Humph, you were supposed to call me. What happened? You get yourself a little bit and forget all about your friends,” she retorted, struggling to contain her mirth.

“Very funny. You know better than that, girl. We've been friends for too long. You know I would never let a little good stuff come between us,” she chuckled. “I would have called—if I could have,” she added, her last words full of sexual innuendo.

“You need to stop,” Lynnette laughed “Anyway, whatsup? I know you didn't call just to apologize.”

“You're absolutely right. But, I can't discuss it on this line.”

Lynnette sat up a bit straighter. “What's going on, Reese?”

Lynnette could be a major asset if Reese was totally candid with her. But on the other hand, Max was right about involving as few people as possible.

“I need your help. But you have to call me from a pay phone and it will be even better if you use one outside of the building.”

“Listen, I like all the cloak and dagger stuff, just as much as the next guy, but you're making my neck hair tingle.”

“Lynn, just do it—please.”

“All right, all right. What's the number out there?” Lynnette jotted down the number on an index card and stuck it in her purse. “I'll take an early lunch and call you in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Lynn.” Reese sighed in relief. “I'll be waiting for your call.” She hung up the phone just as Maxwell stepped through the door.

“Hi, I didn't expect to find you here.” He walked across the office and dropped an armload of files on his desk, missing the troubling look on Reese's face. He sat down and briefly shut his eyes, rolling his neck simultaneously. When he opened them, Reese was staring at him. He sat straight up in his chair.

“What's wrong?”

Reese looked away, then turned the full force of her amber eyes on Maxwell. “How well do you know R.J.?”

Maxwell's eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I have my reasons for asking, Max.”

“Then why don't you start by telling me your reasons for asking.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him, his movements now unnoticeable.

“I talked with R.J. for almost an hour and I don't like the feeling I walked away with, Max.” She crossed her slender wrists over her knees. Her voice was gentle but decisive. “I've been an investigative journalist for the past eight years. Those years of dealing with all kinds of people, good, bad and indifferent, have taught me what to listen for, how to separate what I hear from what a person is really saying. I think I'm a pretty damned good judge of character.”

“And?” he interjected impatiently.

“And, R.J. means you no good.”

Maxwell instantly pushed away from his desk and stood, his dark eyes like thunderclouds. “First my father, now R.J.,” he growled. “Who next?”

“Listen to me,” she demanded, her own voice taking on a steely edge. “R.J. seems to be under the impression that he's the force behind M.K. Enterprises and you were just ‘lucky,' as he put it.”

“What!”

Reese nodded. “I began to feel that he's extremely jealous of you, Max. So much so that it borders on resentment.”

Maxwell shook his head in disbelief. “R.J.? I've known him for years. I just can't…”

“Believe it,” she finished for him. “Are there any plans in the works that I should know about?”

He slanted his almond eyes in her direction. His guard went up. “What do you mean?”

“Is there anything going on that R.J. could…” she searched for the right word “…sabotage?”

His thoughts went immediately to the impending move to the stock market. Everyone on the upper management staff knew the necessity of keeping that information under wraps until the right time. Any deviation from that would ruin everything as well as the person who divulged the information. However, the financial windfall from inside trading was enough to tempt a saint. But R.J…. no, impossible.

“There's nothing going on of any significance,” he lied. The less she knew the better. If anyone got wind that a reporter knew beforehand about M.K. Enterprise's plans…well, he didn't want to think about the ramifications, or what it would do to Reese's career.

“Fine,” she conceded. Slowly she rose from her seat. Just be careful,” she said gently. “I don't like the feeling I got, Max. And I'm very rarely wrong.”

“There's a first time for everything,” he said with a half smile. “Even your reporter's instinct and your feminine intuition can have a bad day.”

“At the same time?” she tossed back with a self-assured grin. “Highly unlikely.”

Max chuckled. “Touché. In the meantime, Sherlock, where are you going to work?”

“I'd prefer to use your office since you'll be in meetings all day. And I'm expecting a call from Lynnette shortly. She'll get me access to the files at the office and I'll see what I can come up with.”

“Then let me get you set up.”

She followed him to the alcove that contained an elaborate computer system built into the wall. Within moments he'd connected her laptop to his office system.

“You're all set.” He flicked his wrist and checked his watch. He crossed the room, grabbed a stack of folders and placed a quick kiss on her lips. He cupped her chin in his palm. “And if I stand here a moment longer looking into those beautiful eyes of yours, I'll be late for my next meeting. I should see you in about an hour.”

She tugged the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “Can't wait,” she breathed in a husky whisper.

“You keep looking at me like that and neither of us will get anything done.” This time his kiss was long, wet and hot, sending waves of current charging through her body. “Stay out of trouble,” he said, his voice low and entreating, before turning and walking out of the door.

Reese stood still for several moments, taking long deep breaths, hoping to shake the erotic sensations that Max had aroused within her. “You got it bad, girl,” she chuckled. “And it sure is good!”

She turned way from the door and moved across the room. Pulling notes from her briefcase she sat, waiting for Lynnette's phone call.

 

Maxwell strode down the corridor, his thoughts were on anything but the meeting ahead. He took then exhaled a long breath. Since Reese's arrival into his life, so much had changed. This was the first time in a very long while that he'd allowed vulnerability to creep into his life and find a haven. For years he'd prided himself on his ability to keep his feelings, his needs, his fears and his doubts tucked neatly away where no one would find them.

He turned down the corridor and stopped in front of
the elevator. He simply stared at the doors until the low conversation between a pair of technicians, en route to the lab, prompted him to press the up button.

Reese was slowly beginning to uncover all of the layers, strip by strip. How soon would his soul be bared to her? What would she see? Would she see the dark, secret fear that he'd lived with all of his life? Would she run or would she stay? And better yet, what would he do if she chose either?

Here in the States, he'd learned to deal with who he was, what others thought him to be. He shook his head slowly as the elevator made its ascent. Tokyo would be different. It always was. The slow burn built in his belly.

 

The light tap on the office door caught Reese right in mid-stroke. She swiveled away from the computer to face the door, just as Carmen stuck her head in.

Reese's face brightened. “Hi, Carmen. Maxwell left for that meeting already,” she offered.

“Oh, yes I know. There's a call for you on line two. I wasn't sure if you'd answer the intercom if I buzzed.”

“Oh…thank you. I should have told you I was expecting a call.”

“No problem,” Carmen smiled, slipping back out.

Reese crossed the room and pressed the flashing light on the phone.

“Lynn?”

“Who else? Now what's going on?”

“First, you've got to promise not to ask any questions.” Reese heard the quick intake of breath that was the preamble to a Lynnette monologue. She rushed on not giving her a chance to interject. “Second, you are not to mention this to anyone. Third, I need you to get me access to our mainframe library. I'm pretty much set up here.”

“What are you involved in, Reese?” she pressed, completely ignoring the first directive.

Reese smiled. “Let's just say that this story is taking on bigger dimensions than I anticipated. And that's all I can say for now. But,” she added, “I promise to tell you as much as I can when I get back to Chicago.”

“Believe me, I'm gonna hold you to that.” She took a breath. “All right. Stay put. I should have you connected within the hour.”

“Thanks, Lynn.”

“And Reese…”

“Yes?”

“Be careful, girl.”

Reese instinctively knew that those few simple words said so much more, a true testament to their friendship.

“I will. I promise.”

C
eleste's heart hammered painfully in her chest as she stared immobilized by the intensity that radiated outward from Victoria's stricken face. Accusation, outrage and a palpable agony raced like a torrential rain across her features.

Finally, Celeste found her voice. “Come in, Victoria,” she said quietly, stepping aside to let her brush past.

With slow deliberation, Celeste followed Victoria into the living room. Victoria swung around to confront her, her eyes blazing and red-rimmed.

“Why don't we sit down?” Celeste offered, struggling to contain the tremors that scuttled up and down her body.

For a moment, Victoria was taken aback by the fragility of Celeste, but her own concerns were so consuming she immediately cast the observation aside. “I'd rather stand,” she spewed.

Celeste pressed her lips together and nodded. She took a
seat in her recliner and folded her hands in front of her, almost in prayer.

“Are you going to answer me?” Victoria demanded, pacing the floor, her strawberry blond hair fanning out around her.

Countless explanations tumbled through Celeste's mind at once. Reasons. Excuses. She knew in that instant that she had it within her power to change the course of so many lives, but nothing could reverse what had been done. No words. No acts of attrition. She stood precariously on the precipice of indecision.

“Answer me! Is what Uncle—” her vehemence momentarily faltered “—Frank said true?”

Celeste pushed down the last of her doubts. She looked directly into Victoria's green eyes. “No,” she stated, clear and emphatic.

Victoria seemed to crumble before her eyes as she dropped, as if in slow motion, into the nearest seat. She sucked on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She balled them into fists on her lap.

Through tear-filled eyes of confusion she looked across the short space at her aunt. “Why?” she croaked. “Why would he tell me something like that? Why?”

Celeste took a long breath. “Your Uncle Frank is a very bitter and lonely man,” she began, gulping down the bile of her lie. “He wanted to hurt me through you, for not loving him.” She paused, then looked off toward the window. “It all started a very long time ago…”

 

Reese paced the office waiting for Maxwell's return. Running through her veins was a combination of excitement and dread of the unknown. She'd always felt that rush of adrenaline whenever she was on the threshold of uncovering new information. It was like food for her soul.

Ever since she began putting the pieces of her life back
together, after her parents' deaths, she'd been obsessed about the truth. For the past fifteen years there remained a hidden part of her that believed there was so much more to what happened to her parents than the reports and what her aunt grudgingly told her.

Aunt Celeste.
If any piece of her nightmare held any validity, it would explain why her aunt resented her so much. She was in love with her father, and from the few pictures she'd seen of her mother, Sharlene, Reese could have been her twin.

Reese shook her head and sighed heavily, crossing the room to stare out of the window. Miles of gently swaying palms greeted her. It was curious to her that her mother and her aunt didn't resemble each other in the least. On all counts, they were direct opposites; from height to disposition to complexion. Night and day, she mused reflectively. She'd never thought too much about the disparities until that moment. Everyone knew the African-American race had been diluted with so many other ethnicities that there were all types of deviations, even within the same family. It was quite possible for two dark-skinned parents to give birth to a high-yellow child with light eyes. Those were some of the nuances that made the African-American people so unique, the gamut of the hues they encompassed.

Yet, knowing these things did not quite settle the stirrings of something deeper within her. Every gut instinct told her it was more than just a color thing between her mother and her aunt. But not knowing her grandparents, she'd never questioned the dissimilarities between the two striking women. At least, she ruminated ruefully, if she did ever ask, she didn't remember the answer.

However, the big question remained. If what she saw in her dream were true parts of her past, what reason could Celeste
ever have for engaging in an affair with her sister's husband? And what kind of man did that make her father?

She blew out a breath and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Pure speculation, dear girl,” she muttered. “You are a journalist—with integrity. You deal with facts, not speculation.”

“Don't tell me this assignment has got you talking to yourself,” Maxwell chuckled as he entered the room.

Reese jumped at the sound of Maxwell's voice. She spun around and caught the gleam in his eyes and the smile that danced around his full mouth. He moved soundlessly across the room in fluid long-legged strides. “Did I hear you mumbling something about speculation?” he asked nearing his desk. He pushed some papers aside, removed a file and looked at Reese.

“We had this conversation before, Mr. Knight.” She sauntered forward and pressed her palms on the desktop.

The corner of his mouth inched upward in a grin. He leaned so close that air could barely pass between them. His voice dropped an octave as he inhaled her scent. “And what conversation was that?”

Her husky voice matched the beat of his. “The one where I told you not to sneak up on people.” She threaded her finger through the opening between the buttons on his shirt, brushing it across the smooth hairs on his chest.

Max instantly felt his stomach muscles tighten, his groin throb. It seemed his libido always went into overdrive whenever he was in Reese's airspace. He'd never been so affected by any other woman. And inside he knew it wasn't just about sex. It was so much more than that. Reese made him feel like just a man when he was with her, inside her. She accepted him as he was, not as a trophy, something exotic to show off to friends, not something to conquer because he appeared so unattainable. She listened, saw what was in his
heart, what fueled him and still she understood, opening up to him her own fears and misgivings. Those things, most of all, were what turned him on. The combination was erotic and so very sensual. Which made making love with Reese Delaware an almost spiritual experience. Just thinking about the passion she evoked in him pushed him to the brink of his limits time and time again. Like now.

Her fingers released one button, then another and brushed their tips across his hardened nipples. Maxwell felt his erection surge against the fabric of his pants.

He groaned deep in his throat, as a flash of white heat whipped through his body. “Now Reese, what if I did…” He slid his hand into the open V of her suit jacket and cupped her breast. Reese expelled a shuddering moan of both surprise and pleasure. “…This to you?” he finished.

Reese took his chin in her palm, pulling him closer. Her lips pressed against his, challenging him to deny her entry. Maxwell willingly succumbed, welcoming the sweetness of her teasing tongue.

Slowly, she eased away. Hot passion sweltered in her eyes. She covered the hand that caressed her breast with her own, applying gentle pressure. “I would say,” she uttered in a silken whisper, “that someone had better lock the door.”

Maxwell muttered an unintelligible expletive as he pulled himself away to lock the door. Returning quickly to her, he pressed the intercom and buzzed Carmen.

“Yes, Max?”

“Hold all of my calls, Carmen,” he said, his gaze never leaving Reese's face. He clicked off before Carmen could respond.

“Now where were we before precaution stepped in?”

“Right about here,” Reese taunted, placing his hands on her thighs.

Maxwell chuckled. “Good a place as any.” Slowly he
pushed her skirt up to her hips all the while wondering how he would deal with all of the paraphernalia that women wore beneath their clothes. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise. He looked at Reese and she had the wickedest look he'd ever seen gleaming in her amber eyes.

Nothing but garters and no panties greeted his exploring fingers. His heart raced. “Damn,” he whispered, sealing his hungry mouth to hers.

 

Victoria left Celeste's home more disturbed than ever. The lies carouseled in her mind. The deceit ran so deep, she was certain she'd never know the whole truth. Who was she to believe, her uncle who'd always manipulated her life, or her aunt who'd been the only one who'd cared about her all these years?

Slowly, Victoria drove through the streets of Frederick, trying to make sense of the past few hours. If only she had someone to talk with, to help her sift through the mire of her life. But she had no one. At least no one whom she could trust implicitly. What a sad testament to her life, she mused with resignation. What would it have been like to grow up with a sister—to have someone to share your adventures with, giggle with in the dark of night?

She released a shaky breath. “I guess I'll never know.” Then her green eyes narrowed in thought and a picture perfect image of Reese and Maxwell, entwined together, emerged before her with Technicolor intensity. Her stomach twisted into the hard knot of resentment that had been planted years ago. It strangled her with its vines of jealousy. She would have to find a way to rectify the wrongs that had been done to her.

 

Lynnette stepped out of the phone booth and off of the curb, her thoughts focused on the tasks ahead. What in the
world had Reese gotten herself involved in? This whole thing with her and Maxwell Knight was blowing up big time. And it gave her a very bad feeling. She couldn't shake the notion that Reese was in way too deep. It was already obvious that she'd totally lost her objectivity. And that never led to anything but trouble for any journalist, even one as seasoned as Reese.

But she'd promised to help her sister-friend and she would. Lynnette grinned as she planned her strategy. First she'd just sweet talk that cute technician in the computer room and…

The driver saw her the instant she stepped off of the curb, stepped on the accelerator, and headed straight for her.

 

“Woman, you are just incredible,” Maxwell breathed against the cords of Reese's neck. He chuckled lightly, easing her legs from around his waist. “I don't believe we just did that.”

Reese grinned and shielded her eyes behind long, dark lashes. All the while that Max was making love with her on the edge of his desk, she kept thinking over and over again how much she'd changed since she'd met him. Max brought out something in her that no one else had ever been able to do. Sure, she'd had relationships before, but none that touched her in the secret place that Max had uncovered.

“Max,” she uttered, pressing her head against his chest. She slid her arms around his waist and eased closer, comforted by the beat of his heart.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, touching his lips to her hair.

For several moments she was silent, contemplating the veracity of what was in her heart. She wasn't sure at what point it happened, or even how, but she'd fallen in love with Max. Head over heels, irrevocably in love. Yet she understood that her feelings were not returned. Maxwell had made himself perfectly clear from the beginning. He had no desire to establish any sense of permanency, or develop emotional
attachments that he believed he was ill equipped to handle. Her head understood, but her heart could not. And now she found herself in the precarious position of not only having become sexually involved with a client, but falling in love with him to boot. And even though the words churned and bubbled in her throat like a volcano waiting to erupt, she knew she could never tell him.

“You haven't fallen asleep on me, have you?” Maxwell teased, hugging her just a little tighter.

“No,” she whispered, “I…I was just thinking that you're the first man I've ever told about…my memory. I mean, other than the doctors.” She raised her head and looked up at him, only to find him staring down into her eyes. The softest smile framed his expressive mouth.

“And what does that mean for you?” he probed gently.

“I trust you.”

Her simple statement touched him as nothing else she'd ever said and his heart filled with a joy that had been missing until her. “And I won't do anything to jeopardize that trust. I promise you that, Reese.”

“Neither will I.”

Maxwell's warm eyes grazed lovingly across her face, still unable to believe just how good he felt in her presence. He felt the walls tumble around him brick by brick, day by day. And for the first time, he wasn't afraid of what she would find. Slowly he lowered his head, brushing his lips across hers, in a kiss so soft, so light, that Reese thought her heart would break from the pureness of it.

With great reluctance he pulled away. His smile was teasing. “In the meantime, uh, I think…” His thick brows rose up and down.

“Yeah.” She grinned. “I think we'd better pull ourselves together.”

Maxwell chuckled deep in his throat. “And I thought we were pulled together.”

“Very funny.” Reese slapped him playfully on the arm and adjusted her skirt.

“You first,” he instructed, pointing to his private bath.

 

While Reese waited for Maxwell to finish up it dawned on her that she had not heard from Lynnette.

“What's that look all about?” Maxwell asked, stepping back into the office and straightening his tie.

“I was expecting a call from Lynnette.” She checked her watch. “Nearly an hour ago,” she added, frowning.

Maxwell continued to prepare for his next meeting while he talked. “She probably just got tied up. She
is
at work you know. I'm sure you'll hear from her soon.” He moved quickly from behind his desk, covered the short space that separated them and stood in front of her. He tipped up her chin with the pad of his finger. “Don't look so worried. She'll call.” He pecked her on the lips. “I've got to run. I'll see you in about an hour and then we can get out of here.”