Fangs for Nothing

“So why did they give you money?”

She had wondered that, too. Would they have done that if they were just friends? There was something rather desperate about that action. And she’d been rather desperate to take the money.

“They just offered it to me as—a way of thanks, I guess.”

“Or as a payoff.”

“No,” she said shaking her head, even though she wasn’t sure that wasn’t what it was.

“And we’ve already figured out the one thing we have in common is the punch. And who made the punch?” He gave her a pointed look.

Josie Lynn gaped at him. Now that she knew she’d had no part in. “I did not tamper with the punch.”

“Well, you’re going to say that, aren’t you?”

“But I didn’t. That punch was right out in the open on the buffet table. Anyone could have laced it. Besides I drank some, too. Why would I drug myself?”

“It’s a pretty good alibi,” he said, eyeing her even more distrustfully. “If you are drugged-out and with us, then your band of Chers can do the dirty work and split the money with you at a later date.”

“That isn’t what’s going on. My stuff is missing, too. Including the money they gave me for letting them in.” She frantically gestured to the fact that all she wore was his shirt. She had nothing, just like everyone else. Except—

“That Frenchwoman with your friend. Who is she? And why is she the only one who has a purse? Or a cell phone? Maybe she’s somehow involved.”

He seemed to consider her suggestion, then shrugged as if he didn’t really care and he’d already made up his mind that Josie Lynn was the culprit.

“The way I see it, there is only one solid lead, and that’s to find the Chers and find out what they did with all the stuff you guys stole.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” she insisted more frantically. He had to believe her. His accusation was a whole lot worse than just losing her catering company. If he told his friends about her taking the money and his theory that she was involved, who were they going to believe? Even she could admit that she looked like a likely suspect.

“I want to help you find them,” she said, knowing she had to locate these guys—gals—to clear her own name.

“Oh, I have no intention of letting you out of my sight,” he informed her. “A woman who is willing to drug herself, even sleep with one of her victims—”

“One of my victims!” she exclaimed. He could not be serious. “You are not one of my victims. If anything, I was your victim. You forced yourself on me at the reception. You grabbed me and kissed me.”

“I seem to recall you grabbing me and kissing me, too,” he pointed out.

“One of my many stupid mistakes last night,” she muttered.

“Like getting involved with underworld Chers, who got you to do their dirty work, then left you out to dry?”

She clenched her teeth and groaned. There was no point defending herself to his man. He’d clearly already made up his mind about her, and the only way to defend herself was to find the Chers and find out the truth.

Which meant staying with this jerk. Great. And she likely did have sex with him last night. This was just great.

Behind them she heard the door open. She turned, expecting to see the handcuffed couple darting back into the room, but instead two women sauntered in looking so calm that Josie Lynn wondered if the alligator had somehow gotten out of the hallway and was now lying in wait somewhere else.

One of the women was tall and svelte with red hair and pale skin, while the other was petite and almost waifish with blond hair and a wide smile. They were both stunning and utterly unfazed by the scene before them.

“Drake, how unusual to see you with your pants down,” the blonde said with a laugh.

Drake gave her a look, although Josie Lynn could see fondness in the grimace. “Isn’t that part of the fun of living with me, Katie?”

This Katie lived with him? Josie Lynn suddenly felt all the more self-conscious to be standing there in nothing but his shirt. Although the blonde didn’t look upset. Maybe they were truly roommates. Maybe they had an open relationship. But no maybe about it, Josie Lynn did not like the sharp pang of jealousy that had shot through her when he’d said they lived together.

Why the hell would she be jealous—or feel anything for that matter—for this jerk? He was accusing her of being a thief, for God’s sake.

The redhead stepped closer to him and tilted her head, inspecting his look, then said, “It’s not really ‘with your pants down.’ They don’t seem to be intact. What are you wearing?”

“They are chaps, Stella,” Drake said with the odd air of haughty dignity that he seemed to acquire every so often. “I would think being married to a cowboy, you’d be quite familiar with them.”

Stella laughed. “Well he never wears them like that, that’s for sure.”

“See what you’re missing,” Drake stated. Clearly done with the women’s teasing, he gestured to the prone bride. “Zelda is over there. She’s breathing, but I do think she should be brought to the hospital.”

Josie Lynn wondered how he knew she was breathing. As far as she’d seen, he hadn’t gotten anywhere near her.

“Hi,” the blonde said, suddenly appearing at Josie Lynn’s side with her hand extended. “I’m Katie Cortez. I live with Drake. I’m married to one of his best friends.”

Josie Lynn ignored the wave of relief that washed over her as unexpectedly as the jealousy had.

You just don’t want to have had a potential one-night stand with a man who was involved with another woman, she assured herself, not quite believing the reasoning even as she thought it.

She accepted the blonde’s hand. Her fingers were small and cool.

“And they are also in the band together. Maybe you’ve met my husband. Cort?”

Josie Lynn shook her head. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she didn’t even know Drake was in a band, but she didn’t want to reveal to this clearly nice woman that she was in a sex dungeon with a man she didn’t really know. And again, wearing nothing but his shirt.

“Okay,” Stella said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. For which Josie Lynn was very grateful. “I know where Zelda and Saxon’s room is—”

“I’m not even going to ask why you know that,” Drake said wryly.

“Because I’ve come over to feed Waldo, you perv,” Stella said.

“Waldo?” he asked.

“The alligator.”

“You knew about the alligator?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it was Saxon’s one-year anniversary gift to Zelda. Although he’s normally not hanging out in the hallway,” Stella said. “Anyway, their room is two doors down on the right. Drake, go get Zelda some clothes. And something for yourself while you’re at it.”

“Like Saxon’s clothes will fit me,” he said.

“But Zelda’s probably will,” Katie pointed out.

Josie Lynn actually smiled slightly at the horrified expression on Drake’s face. God, this was all so weird.

“Okay,” Drake said, once recovered from the idea of wearing Zelda’s clothes. “Josie Lynn and I will go do that. While you figure out the best way to get Zelda to the hospital.”

“Don’t you think maybe Josie Lynn should stay here?” Stella said, giving Drake a look Josie Lynn didn’t quite understand, but she wondered if the redhead somehow knew he thought she was a part of last night’s debacle. Although Josie Lynn didn’t know how she would know. Drake couldn’t have told her. Maybe nerves were just getting to her.

“You know she’ll be fine with me,” Drake said again with that haughty air.

Stella looked like she wanted to argue, but then just shrugged. Clearly she knew that it would be a waste of breath to argue with him. Josie Lynn had already figured that out about him, too.

“Just be careful. Waldo is a little cranky.”