“I’ve got my cell phone. If they need to reach me, they can. Besides, I haven’t had a vacation for a long time. I deserve a break.”
“You should always take time for yourself,” she said.
“When was the last time you had a vacation?” Dec asked.
“Years ago,” Rachel admitted. “It’s no fun going anywhere alone.”
“I agree. But you’re not alone this time. And neither am I.” Dec sat up and swung his legs off the chair, then dropped a kiss on Rachel’s forehead. “I need to call the office. Can I get you anything while I’m up at the cabin?”
“I’d like another kiss, please,” she said.
He bent over her and Rachel grabbed him around the neck, pulling him down on top of her. She wriggled around beneath him until their bodies fit perfectly against each other, then nuzzled his neck. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she murmured.
He kissed her and for a long time, he didn’t want to stop. Kissing had always been a means to an end for him, a necessary part of seduction. But kissing had taken on a whole new meaning with Rachel. It was just…fun. Like eating candy or riding a roller coaster or curling up in front of a fire on a cold night. A myriad of pleasures awaited him when his lips touched hers and every time they kissed, that revelation was brought home all over again.
When Dec finally got to his feet, Rachel had a satisfied smile on her face. “Bring me something to drink, please?”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go in the water. Always swim with a partner.”
She gave him a crisp salute. “Yes, sir, Captain Safety.”
Dec hiked up the small rise to the cabin. He found his cell phone on the counter where he’d left it. He punched in the memory dial for the office and spoke first with his secretary and then with his office manager. Once he’d gone through the daily details of business, he asked to be put through to the investigator he’d put on Rachel’s case.
“What can you tell me, Rick?”
“We’ve done a background check on Daniel Ellsworth. Nothing came up. No extramarital affairs, no gambling debts, no complaints from colleagues. He’s very well-respected and according to a few sources on campus, his interest in Miss Merrill is completely professional. They also noted that he benefits from the relationship. According to them, until he paired up with Professor Merrill, he wasn’t published in any of the prestigious journals.”
“No professional jealousies,” Dec asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Rick replied.
“What about her research assistant?”
“Simon Lister is sleeping with his thirty-five-year-old, married landlady,” Rick said. “But we’re still looking at him. He did have a crush on one of his professors during his undergrad years at Cornell and followed her around for a while. I’ll be talking to her tomorrow.”
“Were you able to come up with anything on those letters?”
“They were all printed on an Epson printer. Most of the printers at the university are Hewlett Packard. But I sent samples to Sam Devlin over at the FBI and he seems to think the letters were written by a woman.”
“He can tell that?”
“He claims he can. Women use words differently than men do, make threats differently. He can’t be a hundred percent sure, but that was his opinion.”
“So maybe it isn’t a guy. Rachel claims she hasn’t been involved in a relationship for a while.”
“That’s the truth,” Rick said.
“You checked her out?”
“The info in the file was pretty thin, boss. It made sense.”
“So what did you find?” Dec asked, suddenly curious.
“She’s had three serious relationships, all with academic types, none lasting longer than a year. Her most recent relationship ended a year ago this last April. Strangely enough, all three of the guys are now happily married.”
“All right,” Dec said. “Call Trevor Ross and update him. And stay on it. Whoever this person is will probably get a little desperate after a few days of not seeing her. We’re going to stay up here through Wednesday night.”
“Okay, boss. I’ll let you know if we get anything.”
Dec closed the phone, then set it back on the counter, surprised by the latest development. If Rachel’s stalker was a woman, then that changed the entire complexion of the case. In his experience, women usually stalked because of envy or jealousy, men because of sexual obsession. But that didn’t make them any less dangerous.
He decided to keep the newest development to himself. Though he could question Rachel about possible suspects, he’d do so later, after Rick had a chance to gather more information.
Dec grabbed a bottle of lemonade from the refrigerator and strolled back down to the water, thinking about the information Rick had given him. He hadn’t thought much about Rachel’s past relationships with men. In truth, had any of them lasted, then he wouldn’t be where he was today.
Yet, he wondered why other men hadn’t found what he had in Rachel. There wasn’t anything about her that didn’t fascinate him. In his eyes, she was pretty close to perfect. And Dec had never considered himself that much different from regular guys. But then, maybe these eggheads she’d dated weren’t regular guys.
Sexy was sexy, Dec mused. Egghead or not, it was the same for all men. And Rachel was definitely sexy. He walked down the dock, only to have his theory proved. Rachel had removed her skirt and was now lying in just her underwear, her panties matching the lacy black bra.
Though her lingerie was less revealing than most bikinis, Dec found it much more arousing. His mind wandered, focusing on how little effort it would take to rid her of the tiny scraps of fabric, just a quick tug here and there and she’d be naked.
“Be careful,” he said. “You don’t want to burn.”
Rachel smiled. “I know. I’m just about done. Even a little sun helps. I don’t want to have that pasty look of an academic.”
Dec thought her skin looked like perfect porcelain, now with just a hint of pink. “I like your skin, too,” he murmured. Rachel sat up and Dec opened the bottle of lemonade and handed it to her.
“I’m going to go up and start dinner,” she said. “Are you going to stay down here?”
“For a little while,” he said. “Call me if you need help. And be careful, those knives in the kitchen are really sharp.”
“There’s a broken board on the end of the dock. Aren’t you going to warn me that it might bounce up, hit me in the head and cause a traumatic brain injury?”
“Sorry,” Dec said. “Just doing my job.”
“There are a lot of things you do better than your job,” she teased.
As she walked away, Dec twisted in his chair and watched her leave, smiling to himself. He wasn’t sure where his protective streak had come from and in truth, it was a bit silly. Rachel had passed twenty-nine years of her life without injuring herself seriously with a kitchen knife or getting a third-degree sunburn. Maybe it was time for him to relax a bit.
He was here, alone with a woman he found incredibly alluring. There were much better things to do than worry.
RACHEL POURED THE LAST OF the bottle of wine into Dec’s glass. The remains of their dinner-grilled salmon, asparagus and a salad of baby greens-were scattered across the small table on the porch.
She took a sip of her wine, then leaned back into the cushions of the wicker chair. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember a single time when she’d been this content. There always seemed to be some problem plaguing her mind, but tonight, all she thought about was how good the wine tasted and how beautiful the sunset had been…and how handsome Dec looked in the waning light.
The day had passed in lazy enjoyment, both of them aware of what the night would bring. There had been penetrating gazes and innocent caresses, a kiss here and there, little clues that characterized the desire bubbling just below the surface. There was no doubt in Rachel’s mind they’d give in to that desire. All they were doing now was marking time.
“If you were back home, what would you be doing?” she asked.
“If I wasn’t working, I’d probably be at a pub watching the ball game, or hanging out with my brothers. Or maybe taking a run. What would you be doing?”
