Seduced by Sunday (14 page)

“You know, Masini, I can move.”

“Where would the fun be in that?”

He had a point. “You’re so cocky.”

“You said that last night.”

“Still holds.”

He laughed and brushed her arm with one of his hands. She started to lean into him when they realized they weren’t alone.

Meg tried to hold back her jump, didn’t want to be so obvious, but failed. “Hi, Gabi.”

Gabi watched the two of them with wide eyes and a smug smile. “Hello, Meg. I knew you were cooking . . . but I had no idea.”

Val laughed and Meg placed an elbow into his side. “Your brother’s a flirt.”

“Is that right? I’ve never really noticed before.”

Meg twisted away from the watchful eyes of Val and dropped her towel on the counter. “I should wake your mom.”

“I’ll get her,” Gabi said. “You two . . . carry on.”

Meg waved an accusing finger Val’s way the moment they were alone. “I’m supposed to be here with Michael.”

“And yet you’re not.”

“A fact that shouldn’t be advertised. Why do you think we’re here?”

“You needn’t worry about Gabi. She’d never do anything to compromise what happens on this island.”

He turned off the heat on the pasta and lifted the heavy pot to the sink. The colander was already in place to drain the pasta. It was obvious that Val knew his way around the kitchen. “I take it your mother taught you how to cook.”

He smiled. “My father, actually. Good thing, too. My mother didn’t want anything to do with cooking for months after his death.”

“You’re the good son all the way around.” She meant the words as a compliment but they came out a little snarky.

“Family is important.”

She wondered if the family loyalty thing skipped her. She loved her parents, but didn’t have any undying need to protect and care for them. They’d always seemed to do that for each other just fine, leaving her flapping in a lonely wind.

Gabi jogged down the back stairs and into the kitchen. “She’ll be down in a few minutes. Shall I set the table?” She walked over to the eat-in kitchen table and started to lift Meg’s purse to set it aside.

Meg thought of the mail from Judy and couldn’t remember if Alonzo’s name was used. Since the letter was lying in her purse, Meg jumped to take her purse from Gabi’s hands. “I’ll take that.”

Gabi handed it over, and reached back for the papers that fell out.

Meg didn’t need to worry, Gabi didn’t look at the mail before she swept the table free of everything and started to gather dishes.

Mrs. Masini looked five years younger after her nap. It helped that she didn’t wear flour quite like Meg. Val poured wine and Gabi dished up the meal.

Before they forked one spoonful, Val lifted his glass. “To new friends.”

Mrs. Masini lifted her glass. “To new cooks.”

Gabi joined them. “To the perfect con to obtain stage time with Jim Lewis.”

Meg laughed and added her own toast. “To surviving my cooking.”

With the taste of wine on her lips, she met Val’s gaze as he took his first bite.

“Oh,
cara
. Perfect.”

“Better than my first attempt,” Gabi said, taking a second bite.

“Really?” Meg lifted her fork, took her first bite. “Mmm.” It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty damn good.

“Of course it’s perfect. I’m a good teacher, no?”

“The best, Mama.”

They talked of food, their first attempts at cooking before either of the Masini children got it right. They laughed when Meg described her flour volcano taking on a resemblance to Mount St. Helens.

And they ate.

Meg couldn’t remember a better meal. A bit of pride wound inside her head as everyone finished their plates, Val taking on a second helping.

They moved to the outside patio when they were finished, Meg rested a hand on her full stomach. “How do you stay so thin eating like that?” she asked Gabi.

“Lots of swimming.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Val said across from the two of them. “She eats like a sparrow most of the time.”

“I have to fit into my wedding dress.”

With the mention of the pending wedding, Mrs. Masini did that growl thing Meg had grown to recognize during their time together.

“A husband should love you heavy or thin.”

“I want to be thin for me, Mama.”

“I think I’ll finish my nap,” Mrs. Masini said, excusing herself. She stopped at Meg’s side. “Thank you for your company today, Margaret.”

Meg stood and hugged her teacher. “Thank you. I really did have fun.”

Mrs. Masini kissed her cheek and walked into the house.

Val’s cell phone buzzed, taking his attention away. “Looks like I have to get back to work.”

“I should wash some of this flour off before it becomes a paste on my skin.”

Gabi brushed at her arm. “It’s not
that
bad.”

The three of them walked back inside and Meg gathered her purse. She removed the note Val had sent her and waved it toward him. “Thanks for the warning.”

“She went easy on you.”

Meg tucked the note away, determined to keep it, and noticed another envelope beside the other two. Her name adorned the envelope with no return address. She wondered if maybe Val had sent her two notes.

Gabi asked her brother about one of their guests and Meg opened the letter.

Only it wasn’t a letter.

It was from the night before . . . a picture.

A picture of her in Val’s arms, their intimate embrace leaving little to the imagination of anyone who came upon it. “What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“Is this a joke?” Because if it was, she wasn’t laughing.

Val took the folded picture away and grew rigid.

“Oh, my.” Gabi’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“Where did you get this?” Val asked, his tone accusing, his eyes dark.

“You tell me. It came in my morning mail.”

“That’s the two of you.” Gabi stated the obvious.

“You’re just now showing me this?” Val asked.

“I didn’t open it until now . . . and why are you talking to me in
an accusing tone? I didn’t take the picture, Masini . . . I was a little busy at that moment in time.”

“No one is accusing you of anything,” Gabi told her. “But who . . . and why?”

“Who delivered this?”

“The same guy who brought me your note.”

Val said something under his breath in Italian. If Meg could guess, she’d say he was cussing. “This goes nowhere outside of this room,” Val hissed.

“I thought you didn’t allow cameras on the island? How did this happen?”

“I don’t.”

“This doesn’t look like it was taken from outer space.” It looked like it was shot from inside the restaurant with a high-powered lens.

“Someone is taunting me,” Val muttered.

“Taunting you? There are two of us in that shot.”

“How did this happen, Val?” Gabi asked. “Why would anyone care if you were kissing . . .” Gabi’s words dripped to nothing, her face grew red.

Val’s eyes narrowed on Meg. “Maybe it has nothing to do with me.”

Meg tapped her chest. “I’m not the celebrity. That would be Michael.” Oh, wait . . . if someone was on the island with a camera . . . “Oh, no!” She spun on her heel, prepared to run to her villa.

Val took her arm, spun her toward the front of his house. “I’ll drive.”

They fled to the golf cart, sped out of his drive. Her heart was pumping. What if she was too late? What if Ryder and Michael had already been caught on camera?

She forced a few deep breaths, tried to ward off her lungs closing up.

Chapter Eleven

Val took the corners too fast, slung his arm over Meg’s body to keep her from toppling out of the golf cart on the last one. She ran from the cart, stopped at the door. “Wait here.”

“Cara.”

“Wait.” She took a deep breath and walked into the villa calling Michael’s name. Seconds later, she emerged and waved him inside. “They’re not here.”

Val stepped inside, took in the space, and reached for his cell phone.

“Yes, Mr. Masini?” Carol answered on the second ring.

“Miss Rosenthal is looking for Mr. Wolfe. Has he left the island?”

“No, sir. I will make a few calls and call you back with his location.”

He disconnected the call. “We’ll know where he is in a moment.”

She ran a hand through her hair and started to pace the room. “This is bad, Val. Really freaking bad.”

“Calm down, Margaret.” He could hear a soft wheeze in her lungs and wondered if her medicine was close by.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. This shit isn’t supposed to go down on this island. Key West was more silent than here.” She kept talking, pacing. “I knew this was too good to be true.”

“You know,
cara
, kissing me isn’t a sin.” Unless . . . unless he failed to learn about someone. “Wait . . . is there someone—”

“Oh, good God, no. Are your background checks that limited that you couldn’t find a jealous lover?”

“I respect my guests’ privacy.” He paused and tilted his head. “Wait, how is it your background checks are so thorough?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it promptly.

“Cara?”

“Why are you calling me that? What does it mean anyway?”

“Dear, darling.” Seemed fitting since she didn’t give him leave to use her desired name.

She grunted, just like his mother. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not going to answer your question. I don’t know you well enough.”

“I’ve tasted your molars and you don’t know me well enough?”

He wanted to laugh but found the statement unsettling.

“Once. One kiss, Masini. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.” She looked toward the clock on the wall. “Where the hell are you, Michael?”

She ran a hand over her chest and Val stepped closer. “Please,
cara
. I don’t think Michael would want you this worried, worried to the point of not breathing.”

Some of the heat in her eyes melted. “We need to find him, Val. Find them both before more pictures can be taken.”

Val thought he was starting to see the problem, but didn’t dare ask her. If his speculation was correct,
this is really freaking bad
wasn’t a strong enough statement.

A click at the front door turned their attention away from each other.

Michael walked in the front door laughing, Ryder at his side.

Meg rushed to Michael, pulled him inside the room, and slammed the door closed. “Thank God you’re here.”

“What happened?” There was an abrupt end to Michael’s laughter and worry marred his face.

“Someone on the island has a camera.”

Michael turned white. “What?”

Margaret placed a hand on Michael’s chest. “A picture of Val and me was in that stack of mail this morning.”

“You and Val?”

Margaret put both hands in the air, looked around the room. She placed a finger over her lips, and waved them all out the sliding door.

“What are we doing out here?” Val asked once they were at the edge of the veranda.

“It pays to be paranoid, Masini.” Margaret moved to the outside stereo, turned on a rock station. “That should work.”

“Jesus, Meg, you’re scaring me.”

Val noticed that Ryder had lost the color in his face, but had yet to say a word.

“If someone has a camera, they might have audio.”

Michael’s jaw clenched.

Val hated that his guests were this concerned about a breach in security. Who was he kidding? Security had already been blown up. The only element missing was a leak to the media.

“I need to notify my security,” Val told them.

Meg offered a nod, but didn’t look into his eyes.

Once Lou was told of the latest breach, Val returned to the Wolfe party. They were looking at the photograph with rapt attention.

“How did this happen, Mr. Masini?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know, but I
will
find out.”

Ryder finally spoke. “We should leave.”

Michael shook his head. “And appear guilty? I don’t think so.”

“Mike.”

There it was, a look between two people that couldn’t be faked or
acted
. Everything became perfectly clear. Michael Wolfe and his lover, who was not Margaret Rosenthal, were afraid their relationship was about to become public knowledge.

Val thought of the first two pictures in his in-box. He hated to worry his guests, then realized the only ethical thing was to open his mouth. Even though it threatened his ability to taste Margaret again.

“Someone is watching you.” He directed his comment to Margaret. “I’m not sure if the attention is on Margaret or you, Mr. Wolfe.”

“The picture is of me.”

“True. And while I hold no issue of it becoming public, it threatens your ploy here. The other one, however, plays into the ploy.”

Margaret met his gaze.

Her body went rigid. “Other one?”