Murder Under Cover

at reading Old French?”

“Do you believe the book is that old?” He placed his briefcase on the desk and took off his jacket. “I’m no expert, but didn’t Old French fade out with the bubonic plague?”

I chuckled. “No, the book isn’t that old, but I’m wondering if some of the archaic language was chosen deliberately.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

I slanted the page so he could read it and pointed to the sentence I’d given up on a little while ago. “It’s this word that’s giving me trouble. Arracher.”

He squinted at the word, then glanced up. “Arracher. To extract. To pull out.”

“Right.” Why did it sound so sexual when he said it? “I did a Google search and found this 1887 French dictionary. Its first definition is ‘to pluck out.’ But in context with the sentence…”

“ ‘Arracher la mangue meur,’ ” he read, finishing the phrase. “La mangue is mango, of course. But I don’t recognize meur.”

I scanned the 1887 dictionary. “Here it is. That spelling is out of use. The modern word is murs, which means ‘ripe.’ ”

“Ah, that makes sense. ‘Pluck the ripe mango.’ ” He raised one eyebrow. “Lovely visual.”

“Um… yes.” Was it getting hotter in here or what? “I guess I was overcomplicating the phrases.”

“What else have you translated?”

Pointing to a previous illustration, I said, “I’ve got this one worked out. It’s, um, ‘ride the wild stallion.’ ”

“Stallion.” He nodded, fighting back a smile. “Of course. Go on.”

“They’re a little obsessed with animals in here,” I muttered, my throat suddenly dry. I turned the pages and pointed to the various animals I’d translated. “Here’s a cow, a dog, a crab, a cat, a goat, a crow.”

“The crow is not to be missed.”

“Well,” I whispered, then coughed to clear my throat. “Maybe we’ve seen enough.”

“Hardly.” He turned the page and we both gazed at a couple enjoying a position as old as time. Beneath was a phrase I hadn’t yet translated.

“Ah, ‘driving the nail home,’ ” Derek translated easily, and shot me a lopsided grin. “An old favorite of mine.”

My vision was starting to fog up, making it difficult to write in my notebook. “I really should check on dinner.”

“How about that one?” he asked, pointing to a picture on the opposite page.

“You’re taunting me, right?”

“Yes.” He shifted closer, lifted my hair, and planted kisses on my neck.

I groaned, then focused my energies on my three highest chakras in order to keep from melting into a pool of lust on my clean floor. Fine. Two could play at this game, right? But it was getting harder to concentrate. I turned reluctantly and read the French words under the rather graphic illustration he’d pointed to. “That one is known as ‘trapping the snake.’ ”

He nuzzled my neck as he reached for the top button of my shirt. “And exactly what are they doing there?”

I didn’t have to look too carefully at the drawing of two people, one on top of the other, lying in opposite directions. I’d already spent way too much time studying it. “Each person holds on to their partner’s feet. The movement is more of a rocking motion. It’s supposed to be… more pleasurable for the woman.”

“I’m in favor of that,” he whispered in my ear, causing a few of my synapses to snap and fire.

“Yeah, me, too.” Did I really say all that out loud? Were we having a conversation? Why wasn’t he tearing my clothes off and driving the nail home? But wait. Dinner was cooking in the oven. Oh, God.

He’d finished with my buttons and was pushing my blouse off my shoulders. “Do I smell something cooking?” he murmured against my skin as his mouth traveled along my jawline.

I barely heard him through a fog of pleasure. “What?”

His deep chuckle reverberated as he raised his head and gazed into my eyes. “I said, I’m going to kiss you again. Then I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, where we’ll conduct research for your book.”

“Oh, yes, research,” I said, smiling up at him. “But dinner…”

“I’ll turn off the oven.”

Much later that night, long after we’d had dinner in bed and conducted more research, Derek shifted his pillow and sat up. “I had to fire two employees today.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That can’t be easy.”

“On the contrary, it was the easiest thing I did all day.” He tilted his head to make eye contact with me. “Why didn’t you tell me about those women at my office party?”

“What?” I blinked a few times, then rolled over and sat up. This was not a conversation I’d imagined having in bed. In fact, this was not a conversation I ever thought we’d be having at all. I guessed I was hoping the problem would just go away.

“Corrine told me,” he said.

“So you’ve known about it for days?”

“No, I just found out this morning. However, Corinne has known for days. She heard them talking and saw your reaction. She expected you to tell me and thought that at any moment I’d storm in and fire the women. When I didn’t do anything, she finally brought it up. Why didn’t you say something to me?”

I sighed and adjusted my pillow to get comfortable. “I’ll admit I was hurt by their words, Derek, but I wasn’t going to whine about it to you. They were just women being… you know.” I wasn’t about to call his employees bitches, but I could tell by his frown that he got the gist. “Believe me, my biggest problem wasn’t with what they said about me, but the fact that they were so disrespectful to you. But even so, I still didn’t feel I could say anything. They work for you, they’re loyal to you, and I assumed you trusted them. For all I know…” I stared at my hands.

“For all you know, they were speaking the truth.” Troubled, he reached out and brushed my hair back from my forehead, then cupped my cheek with his hand. “They weren’t.”

“I’m glad.”

He nodded, then gritted his teeth and said, “Can you put yourself in my shoes for a moment and imagine my reaction when Corinne told me what she’d heard? I felt… ill, absolutely sick to my stomach, that people I thought I could trust would betray me by hurting someone I care so deeply about. I was furious. I didn’t want to simply fire them. I wanted to throw them into a dungeon somewhere and leave them to the dogs.”

I smiled forlornly. “That would teach them to cross you.”

“Indeed.” He grimaced. “Sadly, Corinne pointed out that I have no dungeon here in the States, so my only remedy was to fire them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, so am I, because it wasn’t nearly as satisfying. On top of that, I could only fire two of the women. Corinne reminded me of all the red tape we had to go through to get the other two transferred over here from London, so they’ve been sent to different departments, put on probation, and had their security clearances revoked.”

“Wow, don’t mess with Mr. Stone.”

“No,” he said tightly. “Don’t.”

I didn’t feel like gloating, but I didn’t feel guilty, either. I flashed back to the way I felt when I heard the four women cackling about me. I was hurt, confused, and angry. I remembered how it made me doubt Derek and his feelings for me. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

He searched my face-looking for what, I wasn’t sure. Finally he said, “Do you trust me, Brooklyn?”

I was taken aback. “Of course.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that I’ll never hurt you-No, wait. Let me rephrase that.” He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. “I will never knowingly hurt you. I know the work I do sometimes worries you, and I’ll try to be more open about it when I’m able. But trust me when I say there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. If you ever have a doubt or a concern about anything I say or do, or don’t say or do, I want us