Gemini Men: Caught Part 4

"What does it say?" Ethan pushed out of his chair and moved to stand behind her, his tall, broad body somehow managing to move gracefully in spite of its size. Now why couldn't she master that sort of athletic ease? She'd never quite recovered from shooting up to her current height at the ripe old age of fourteen. Though she dressed to flatter her lean frame and tried to use her height as an advantage, underneath she still felt like an awkward, clumsy teenager who could barely control her unexpectedly long limbs.

Next to Ethan, who seemed to have perfect control over every rippling muscle in his body, she once again felt like the girl her cla.s.smates so sweetly dubbed "Stork Legs" after she'd made the mistake of wearing shorts to gym cla.s.s. Joyce and Laurie didn't help, with their tiny figures that barely topped five foot three. They both looked like little brunette dolls, perfectly sized to fit in the palms of Ethan's big, broad hands.

She could feel the heat of his body permeating her thin s.h.i.+rt as he leaned in to read over her shoulder. As subtly as possible, she tried to move forward but found herself pinned between the back of Laurie's chair and the ma.s.sive wall of Ethan's chest. She resisted the urge to shove an elbow back under his ribs as her body temperature rose another five degrees. Which had nothing to do with the ridiculously masculine pheromones Ethan was giving off, and everything to do with the fact that after a lifetime in the Pacific Northwest, Toni still hadn't become acclimated to the Bay Area's sun-drenched summers.

She refused to acknowledge the low hum of the air conditioner and the fact that it kept the house at roughly sixty-five degrees.

A trickle of sweat rolled down Toni's neck, and she s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably, careful to keep herself from erasing the millimeter of air Ethan had left between them. Hadn't the guy ever heard of personal s.p.a.ce?

His breath wafted over her ear as he read Kara's posting aloud. "Just dropping by to say hi. Nothing new to report. More later."

"She posted that at eleven thirty-eight this morning," Toni said. Almost an hour after she'd left the Kramers.

"That's good news, right?" Joyce said as she came back into the kitchen. On her arm was a handbag roughly the size of Canada. "If she's posting on the Internet she can't be in too much trouble."

Toni nodded absently. She thought of Kara's computer, missing from her room. Could be Kara took it and really had posted the message. But there was always a darker possibility Toni couldn't avoid.

"It wouldn't be hard for someone to use her computer or hijack her account," Ethan said, echoing her thoughts.

Okay, she had to concede points for his being more than prime eye candy. "Mind if I post something really quick?"

Joyce closed her eyes in exasperation. "Fine, but then I'm afraid we really have to go."

Toni leaned over the table and used Laurie's account to post a quick message: This is Toni, looking for Kara. Call or text me ASAP. Your folks are worried and so am I.

She straightened up, only to finder herself flush against Ethan, her back to his front. She shot him a glare as her b.u.t.t made contact with his thighs.

"Sorry." For a split second, something gleamed in his eyes, a mischievous spark that told her he was messing with her, that he enjoyed making her uncomfortable. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a perfectly bland and deferential look.

"Thanks for your help, ladies," Ethan said, turning to Joyce as he stepped out of Toni's way.

In her hurry to get away from him, Toni took another step to the side, mortification bursting in her stomach as she stumbled over her own feet. At least she was wearing sneakers and was able to catch herself before she fell on her a.s.s.

Joyce Friedland spared a glance for Toni, barely masking her scorn, then refocused one hundred percent of her energy on Ethan. "You're so welcome, Ethan," her tone almost breathless as she placed an earnest hand on his arm and stuck out her ample cleavage. It took a Herculean effort for Toni not to roll her eyes. But she couldn't help sneaking a glance at Laurie to see if she was as embarra.s.sed as she should be to see her mother blatantly flirting with Ethan.

If anything, Laurie looked even more enthralled with Ethan's square jaw and buff body than her mother did. And to think we give men a hard time for being blinded by big b.o.o.bs and a pretty face.

"If there's anything we can do, please don't hesitate to call me," Joyce continued. "And I mean anything."

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Toni stepped bodily between Ethan and Joyce and stuck out her hand, which Joyce shook reluctantly. She dug a couple of business cards from her pocket and handed one to Joyce and one to Laurie. "If you can think of any other information, anyone else she might be with, call or text me anytime. Or e-mail me. I'm always online."

"No surprise there," she heard Ethan mutter as she showed herself to the door. She could hear the m.u.f.fled sounds of Joyce's laughter and Ethan's answering chuckle and had no doubt that by the time he left Ethan would have another job offer-investigating the contents of Joyce's pants.

Before she could get in her car, she heard Ethan call over, "Hey, Toni, wait up a sec."

Her spine stiffened, every instinct urging her to get away from this man, and fast. Then she reminded herself of Marcy Kramer's order to keep an eye on him. Like it or not, until Kara was safe at home, she needed to resign herself to spending a lot more time with or near a man she couldn't stop imagining naked. And wondering how it would feel to have him naked beside her.

On top of her.

Under her.

She was going to melt like a Popsicle before he reached the car.

"Was there something you needed?" Toni asked, keeping her tone cold even if her body was radiating more heat than the asphalt.

It didn't deter him one bit. If anything, his grin widened as he strode toward her. She kept her gaze pinned firmly in the middle of his face, forbidding herself to stare at the way his trousers pulled against his strong thighs as he moved.

I really need to get out more if this is the way I'm going to react to the first remotely hot guy I see. Okay, to be fair, Ethan is more than remotely lot. He is yummy male hotness, the likes of which you rarely see, so appreciate it for what it's worth for the next five seconds and then focus on the task at hand. Five, four, three...

"I'm thinking this will go a lot more smoothly if we work together." he said.

She pulled her mind away from wondering whether he had a four-pack, six-pack, or full-fledged eight-pack under the cotton brocade of his s.h.i.+rtfront and replied, "Oh really, how so?"

"No offense, but I noticed you weren't exactly making friends in there." He jerked his head in the direction of the Friedlands' house, his lips still quirked in amus.e.m.e.nt.

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Making friends isn't part of my job description."

"Are you always this standoffish?"

She folded her arms across her chest and jerked her chin up. "Just because I'm a professional and don't hit on every member of the opposite s.e.x I come into contact with doesn't make me standoffish."

He had the gall to look mildly offended. "I wasn't hitting on Joyce Friedland."

"Oh, please, like you didn't notice the way she was practically pouring her b.o.o.bs out onto your arm."

He gave an arrogant shrug. "Women like me."

"Not all women," she lied and went to climb in her car, but stopped when he wrapped a big, long-fingered hand around her upper arm.

"Don't you know it's rude to walk away when someone's talking to you?" he said.

"You want to tell me more about the legions of women falling at your feet?"

He gave her another smile, one that made the lines around his eyes crinkle. "We got off on the wrong foot. There's no reason we can't help each other out." He leaned one hand on her car, just to the right of her shoulder, almost but not quite boxing her in. It wasn't exactly intimidating, but the way he made her tilt her head back a notch to look up at him was his way of establis.h.i.+ng authority. He was good at this, taking command with his size and his charm, so subtly that most people probably didn't even notice he was doing it.

"Yeah? How so?"

"I don't know who you've worked with before, but people in this area are used to a certain amount of a.s.s-kissing."

"At which you obviously excel," she muttered.

His blue eyes turned steely, and for the first time she got a glimpse of a hardness that matched his tightly honed exterior. "When necessary, yeah. Especially if it helps me find out the information I need. Now, you do ninety percent of your investigating at your keyboard. Am I right?"

She shrugged and nodded. Jeez, the way he put it, it made her sound like some little troll slaving away in her cave. She thought of her dark, cramped home office and conceded that he wasn't too far off the mark.

"Come on," he said. "Let me finish interviewing Kara's friends while you find out what you can, and we can meet up later to compare notes." His smile changed, suddenly saturated with s.e.xual intent. "Let me take you to dinner so we can get to know each other better."

Toni swallowed hard. G.o.d, he was good. Even knowing that his hot look was calculated to make her melt and manipulate her into doing whatever he wanted, she was tempted to say yes.

To dinner, to Ethan, to the amazing, headboard-knocking s.e.x that would no doubt come after. That she was so sorely tempted was enough reason to turn tail and run, even if Marcy had told her to keep an eye on him.

"I'm sorry, Ethan, but as you've probably already guessed, I work much better alone."

Before he could stop her, she slid into her car and closed the door, not caring if his fingers made it to safety or not. As she drove away, she could see him staring after her through the rearview mirror, his expression one of amus.e.m.e.nt mixed with annoyance. G.o.d, she hated that he always seemed on the verge of laughing at her. Reminding herself that she didn't give a c.r.a.p about Ethan Taggart and what he thought of her, she stuck her hand out the window for a final wave before she pulled out onto the street.

CHAPTER 4.

T ONI SIGHED AND took a gulp from the gla.s.s of ice water next to her laptop. She squirmed in her seat as a bead of sweat trickled down her rib cage. Her air-conditioning had been on the fritz for the past week, and Mrs. Arroyo said it would be at least another week until it would be repaired. There was nothing to do but suffer through it. For the rent she was paying, Toni was lucky to have A/C at all, and she figured if her tiny Filipino building manager and four children could survive the heat of their cramped apartment, so could Toni. At least she had a fan to move the hot air from one end of the room to the other.

What she wouldn't give for a cool Seattle summer rain. She thought wistfully back to the adorable flat she'd had in an old Victorian in Seattle's Queen Anne neighborhood. She remembered how she'd love to curl up on the window seat of the big bay window in her living room and sip a cup of coffee while admiring the view of the Cascades.

Instead, she was spending yet another sweltering afternoon in her home office, such as it was. It was Sunday afternoon, and Kara was still gone. The multiple text messages Toni had sent had gone unanswered, and Marcy hadn't heard anything, either.

Toni had spent most of yesterday and this morning poring over the messages posted to the V-Club, the online community Kara and her friends had set up on FacePlace. Though it offered some insight into the pressures teenage girls faced when it came to s.e.x, as far as giving any clues as to where Kara was, it was a bust. There had been a few responses to Toni's message, but no real information. And so far, Toni could find no evidence of the double life Laurie Friedland had alluded to.

The only bright note was that Kara had posted again late last night. The message was as vague as the last, a.s.suring everyone she was fine but containing no details.

Toni had checked the source IP address. The last two messages had been posted from Kara's computer. So why was her spidey-sense on high alert, sensing something off about the last two messages? Why couldn't she buy the notion that Kara was holed up somewhere with a friend and posting messages to let everyone know she was okay?

Toni contacted several members of the V-Club individually. With over three hundred members, many of them living out of state, Toni had focused on the most active members who lived closest to Northern California. None of whom knew anything.

Toni looked at the phone sitting on her desk, willing it to play a snippet from "Wish You Were Here," signifying the arrival of a text message from Kara.

Nothing.

For now, Toni was stuck slogging through a long debate among V-Club members about whether a girl who'd had a.n.a.l s.e.x could still be a member of the V-Club. There were a lot of strong opinions.

You're just trying to make excuses for acting like a wh.o.r.e. Laurie Friedland added her two cents. "Letting a guy f.u.c.k your a.s.s is the same thing as your p.u.s.s.y. You're exactly like Kstar90, trying to give in on a technicality. Either you're a virgin or you're not. No middle ground."

Intrigued, Toni did a search on Kstar90. She'd been added as a friend by Kara several months ago but banned from the group a month later. After a quick scan through her messages, Toni understood why. Kstar90 was all about technical virginity, full of all kinds of advice about how to get yourself and your boyfriend off without giving up the goods.

Toni's mind fairly boggled at the possibilities.

Kstar90 had engaged in several flame wars with the other members before finally being kicked out of the group. Kara had come to her defense and tried to talk the other girls out of banning her but had been overruled by the cybermob.

As she read through Kstar90's posts and Kara's, Toni started to get a tight feeling in the pit of her stomach. She clicked on Kstar90's member page. According to her profile she was eighteen and lived in nearby Menlo Park. Her photo showed only a woman's topless torso, her hands cupped playfully over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her face cast in deep shadow, unrecognizable.

She was about to click the link to additional photos when a sharp knock interrupted her. She peeked through the peephole, frowning when she saw Ethan Taggart standing outside her door.

Kstar90's comments careered through her head, and her brain filled with images of herself, naked, doing all the things Kstar90 recommended for keeping your man satisfied without having actual s.e.x. G.o.d, she could tie Ethan to the bed and keep herself busy for days.

Don't even go there, she thought, purging her brain of the l.u.s.t-inducing images. She considered pretending she wasn't home, but Ethan quickly nipped that plan in the bud.

"I heard you walk to the door, Toni. Open up."

Not for the first time, Toni cursed the thin walls of her cheaply built apartment building.

She slid open the chain and reluctantly opened the door. "What do you want?"

He stepped inside without an invitation, his tall, broad-shouldered body seeming to suck up the s.p.a.ce in her postage-stamp-size apartment.

He gave her a quick once-over, taking in her threadbare T-s.h.i.+rt and khaki shorts that had seen much better days. His sharp turquoise gaze lingered for a moment on her bare legs, and Toni felt a lick of heat low in her belly, followed by a surge of embarra.s.sment to be found looking like such a slob.

His full lips c.o.c.ked into a half smile. "Nice outfit."

"I've been working," she snapped, turning on her bare heel with as much dignity as she could muster.

She felt the heat radiating from his chest as he walked up behind her. "Jesus, no wonder you're so angry all the time, spending so much time in a place like this," he said.

She didn't have to follow his gaze to know exactly what he was seeing. He didn't miss a detail of the kitchen, with its cheap Formica counters, faux oakfinish cabinets, and ugly linoleum. Instead of the hardwood floors of the old Victorian, her boxy one-bedroom apartment had cheap, industrial carpet in the living room and bedroom. The only view from the minuscule patio was of the parking lot. Still, that didn't stop her hackles from rising at his reaction.

"I'm not angry all the time," she huffed.

"Okay then, generally p.i.s.sed off at the world."

"How would you even know? You've known me for less than twenty-four hours!"

"Living in this dump would make anyone depressed." He walked into the tiny living room. "Even if you're not making any money with your investigations, surely you can afford to upgrade."

"When's the last time you looked at housing prices?" It was on the tip of her tongue to jump to her own defense and blurt out that it wasn't her fault her savings had been depleted to the point where she was stuck in this dump until she could save enough to move back home. Her mom's short but valiant battle with ovarian cancer had wiped out her own and Toni's savings. And her ex-boyfriend John deciding to dump her while she was still struggling to get her investigation business off the ground hadn't helped.

Still, she couldn't hold John entirely responsible for the emotional and financial disasters she'd suffered recently. She was the one who'd been itching for a change, who yearned for a life outside her cubicle. And when he had offered her an escape to a new life in sunny California, Toni had jumped at the chance. Her knight in s.h.i.+ning Prius.

She should have learned from her mother's experience that depending on a man for anything was a recipe for misery. She'd always been so careful not to leave herself vulnerable. In work and in love, she'd always been careful and cautious, always choosing the safest route, ignoring the little voices inside her that clamored for more pa.s.sion and excitement.

Until the one time she'd taken a chance in her boring, rule-following life, and look where it got her. Nearly broke in a crummy apartment that looked even worse as she saw it through Ethan's eyes.

But she hardly needed to justify her living situation to him, especially when he was the one who had barged in on her. Speaking of which, "How did you know where I live, anyway? My information is unlisted."

He turned and smiled, the hard angles of his face thrown into stark relief by the fluorescent lights of her kitchen. "Toni, I'm a private investigator. How do you think I found out?"

Anger settled like a hot weight in her chest. Toni was by nature an intensely private person, not p.r.o.ne to sharing her personal information or-G.o.d forbid-feelings with someone she barely knew. She wasn't hiding any big skeletons, but the thought of anyone, especially Ethan Taggart, snooping into her business p.i.s.sed her off.

"How much do you know?" she demanded.

"Worried that I came across some deep, dark secret?" he taunted.

"How much?" she repeated, her hand itching to smack the self-satisfied smirk off his face.

"For a woman who makes a living digging into other people's lives, you sure are defensive."