Sweet Fortune Page 12

  “Oh, Christ.”

  Whatever self-control Hatch still retained evaporated beneath the gentle, cautious movement of her thighs. His arms closed around her so tightly Jessie wondered if she would ever be free again. He began moving swiftly, each thrust more forceful than the last.

  Then Jessie felt his wonderful fingers sliding down between their bodies, felt him search out the sweet spot between her legs, and suddenly she was no longer a moth dancing around a flame, but part of the fire itself.

  “Oh, my God, Hatch. Hatch. Please.”

  “Jessie.”

  Hatch surged forward one last time, his gritty shout of satisfaction muffled against her mouth. And then he collapsed against her, his body damp and heavy and satiated.

  Hatch stirred and opened his eyes when he realized Jessie was starting to wriggle beneath him. “Can't you lie still?” he muttered.

  “You're getting heavy.”

  She was probably right. She was so soft and delicate compared to him, and he was no doubt crushing her into the faded cushions. But, damn, it felt good just to lie here on top of her, breathing in the scents of her moist body and of their recent lovemaking. A deep awareness of the intimacy of the moment flowed through him, making him loath to move.

  He looked down at her and thought he saw the same cautious awareness in her cat-green eyes. He also saw uncertainty and wariness mirrored there. From now on she would take him very seriously. Hatch smiled slightly.

  “I didn't think we'd go nuclear quite so fast,” he said, not without satisfaction.

  “But you were prepared for any eventuality, weren't you?” Tears appeared at the edges of her beautiful eyes.

  Hatch was startled. He reminded himself that Jessie was an emotional creature. He framed her face gently between his palms. “I've wanted you from the beginning. You knew it. The tension was always there between us. It was just a matter of time.”

  “I suppose you think this changes everything.” She blinked back the tears, clearly struggling for an air of cool challenge. She failed miserably.

  “I suppose I do.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “I'll take care of Saturday, Jessie.”

  She scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Like I said, I'll take care of it. You can call Constance and tell her that Vincent will be escorting Elizabeth to the science fair.”

  Jessie's eyes widened. “Just how do you plan to make that happen?”

  He shrugged. “I'm the CEO of Benedict Fasteners, remember?”

  “Yes, but my father is president. And nobody gives my father orders.”

  “I can handle Vincent.” Hatch sat up reluctantly, unable to tear his gaze away from the slender, naked length of her. He watched her blush beneath his scrutiny, and he smiled again. Her breasts shifted enticingly as she leaned over the edge of the sofa and groped for her clothing.

  “Why?” she demanded in a small, tight little voice as she held her shirt up like a shield in front of her breasts.

  “Why what?” Deprived of the sight of her breasts, he stared lingeringly at the moist hair between her legs.

  “You know what I'm talking about.” She waved a hand helplessly in the air.

  He raised his eyes to meet hers. “That's a dumb question. We were bound to wind up in bed sooner or later. I was planning on later, but you couldn't resist pushing me, could you? And for some crazy reason, I let you push me right over the edge tonight. This wasn't the way I had planned things, honey. I wanted to do it right. Flowers and champagne. The whole works.”

  “I wasn't talking about…about what just happened. I meant why are you suddenly offering to get Dad to the science fair?”

  “Oh, that.” Hatch shrugged. “Maybe I want you to learn something about me. Something more than what you seem to think you already know.”

  “I see.” She clutched the shirt more tightly to her throat and stared up at him. Her catlike eyes were narrowed with ill-concealed anxiety. “It's not because I let you do what you just did, is it? Is this your notion of compensating me for a toss in the hay? Because if it is, you can just bloody well forget it.”

  “I think it's safe to say that you don't have one single shred of psychic ability, Jessie. If you did, you'd have known better than to make an asinine statement like that. Put your clothes on. We'll go out and get something to eat.” Hatch knew that earlier, before she had emptied him of the sexual tension that had been gnawing at him for weeks, he probably would have been enraged by the accusation. Now, however, he was feeling too lazy and satisfied to take any real offense.

  “I'm not hungry.”

  “I am. Starving, in fact.” He grinned slowly down at her, aware of a happy, exuberant sensation that he had not felt in a long time. “Trust me. You'll feel much better after you've had something to eat and a chance to get back into fighting form. You're just temporarily dazed, that's all.”

  He was right, just as he had known he would be. By the time they had dressed and he had walked her down the street to a nearby cafe, Jessie was well on the road to recovery. She started to chat conversationally about a wide variety of subjects. They all had one thing in common. They did not touch on the subject of their relationship.

  Later, as Hatch parked his car in front of her apartment, it dawned on him exactly what tactic she had decided to employ in order to deal with the new situation between them. He switched off the engine and sat back to study her in the shadows.

  “I'll be damned,” he said, amused. “You're just going to pretend it never happened, aren't you? You disappoint me, Jessie. I didn't think you'd take the coward's way out.”

  “What did you expect me to do?” she flared. “Throw myself all over you and beg you to marry me?”

  He considered that. “No, probably not. But I didn't think you'd try to ignore the whole thing either. What are you going to do the next time we make love? Act like it's all a huge surprise?”

  “Don't get the idea I intend to make a habit out of that sort of idiotic incident.” She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and reached for the door handle. “It's not as if I don't have other, more important things going on in my life.”

  He reached out and flicked the door-lock button, trapping her. “Such as?”

  She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Such as the investigation I'm conducting. I suppose you've forgotten about that, haven't you? You never did bother to tell me about following the money.”

  “Haven't had a chance,” he pointed out. “We've been a little busy today, haven't we? What with getting up at three in the morning to investigate break-ins and making love on your office sofa.”

  She shot him a quick searching glance. “Tell me now.”

  “About the money? There's not a whole lot to tell until we know more about DEL. The first thing to find out is how they finance the operation.”

  “Donations, apparently.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I might know more when I get back from visiting their headquarters.”

  She could not have jolted him more if she had dropped a live grenade into his lap. “Visiting their headquarters?” Hatch shot out a hand and caught her chin, turning her so that she had to meet his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

  She shooed his hand away and smiled rather smugly. “I've been working today, Hatch. With David's help I tracked down someone who knew Susan Attwood, a young woman named Nadine Willard. She and Susan had both attended one of the lectures DEL gave to interested students at Butterfield College, and Nadine just happened to have an extra invitation to visit DEL headquarters. She said anyone who had one could probably go see the place. It's on an island in the San Juans.”

  “And you're going to go up there? By yourself?”

  “Why not?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Probably, or I wouldn't have found myself flat on my back on Mrs. V's office sofa an hour ago.”

  Hatch was incensed all over again. He could not believe the effect
this woman had on him. Deliberately he clamped down his ironclad self-control and forced himself to speak coldly and quietly.

  “You are not going up there alone. I absolutely forbid it.” He got a sinking sensation in his gut when Jessie's smile turned even more smug.

  “Want to come with me and see if you can spot the money trail?” she inquired softly. “The invitation is for the bearer and a friend.”

  “Now, hold on just one damn minute,” Hatch ordered, already reeling under the implications.

  “You could always think of it as a mini-vacation, Hatch. I'll bet you haven't taken a vacation in ages, have you?”

  “Dammit, Jessie.” Hatch realized he desperately needed time. “Look, you're not to do anything at all until I get back from Portland, understand?”

  “Portland? You're going down there?” she asked quickly.

  “Somebody has to go, Jessie. I told you it was important. Since your father already has a previous commitment, that leaves me. In the meantime, I want your word of honor you won't traipse off to the San Juans alone while I'm out of town.”

  “Well…”

  “Let me make that clearer,” he said coolly. “You're not getting out of this car tonight until I have your promise not to leave Seattle without me.”

  “Since you feel that strongly about it, I suppose I can wait.” She gave him a triumphant look. “As it happens, I'm going to the science fair too. I won't be going anywhere until Monday. One other thing. The tour requires a two-hundred-dollar donation to the foundation.”

  “Two hundred dollars? Dammit to hell, Jessie…”

  “The price of doing business,” she murmured blandly. “Even psychic investigators have expenses. Maybe you can put it on your gold card.”

  “Damn.”

  Hatch did not trust himself to say another word as he walked Jessie to her door and saw her safely inside her apartment. Still smoldering with pure masculine outrage, he went back outside to his car, got in, and drove to the offices of Benedict Fasteners.

  If he was going to Portland on Saturday, he needed to review some files tonight. He would deal with Jessie when he returned.

  He would have to deal with Vincent Benedict first thing in the morning, however.

  Hatch did not look forward to either project.

  Two hundred dollars? Just to keep an eye on Jessie?

  “Damn.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Hatch?” Benedict's bushy white brows met in a solid line above his glowering eyes.

  “You heard me. I'm going down to Portland in your place.” Hatch noticed that the birthday flowers on the desk were wilting quickly. They would not last much longer. He wondered why Benedict had not ordered them thrown into the garbage. “You've promised to take Elizabeth to the science fair, remember?”

  “Jesus. Of course I remember. But this problem in Portland has gotten too big to handle over the phone. It has to be taken care of in person as soon as possible. You know that. We agreed on it. What the devil's gotten into you, Hatch?”

  Hatch planted both hands flat on the surface of Benedict's desk and leaned forward. “I promised Jessie you would take Elizabeth to the science fair. It means a lot to her. Not to mention Elizabeth.”

  “So what? This is business. These things happen. Both my girls understand that.”

  “You still don't get it, do you, Benedict? I made Jessie a promise. She needs to learn that when I make a promise, I keep it. If I don't come through on this one, you can probably kiss off any possibility of a marriage between me and your daughter.”

  “Goddammit, you're serious, aren't you?” Benedict looked appalled.

  “Real serious. Better sort out your priorities here, Vincent. You know damn well I can handle the problem in Portland.”

  “That's not the point. You're needed here. We've got that situation with the bid on the Spokane project to deal with, remember? Or have you forgotten Yorland and Young?”

  “We can finesse that for a few days. For the record, I still don't think it's worth the effort anyway.”

  “Is that right? Well, I happen to want that contract.”

  “I'll get it for you if it means that much to you,” Hatch said impatiently. “But in the meantime, let's get it clear that you are going to take your daughter to the science fair tomorrow.”

  Vincent snorted and sank back in his chair, brows still beetled. “You sure Jessie won't understand?”

  “Oh, she'll understand, all right. She'll understand only too well.” Hatch bit out each word. “What she'll understand is that if I don't keep this promise, I'm just what she thinks I am.”

  “Which is?”

  “Too much like you.”

  “Women. What the hell's the matter with 'em anyway? Their priorities are all screwed up. They don't understand how the real world works.”

  “I've got news for you, Benedict. Women do not think the same way men do. Unfortunate, but true.” Hatch straightened, removing his hands from the desk. He was satisfied he had made his point. “Have a good time watching Elizabeth win first place tomorrow.”

  Vincent sighed. “Hope you know what you're doing.”

  “I usually do. That's why you hired me in the first place, remember?”

  “Should have known this would happen,” Vincent said glumly.

  “What would happen?”

  “Should have known you'd be giving me orders by now,” Vincent said. “Knew it wouldn't take you long to take over completely. You just make damn certain you marry that gal of mine. Hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  Hatch plucked a scarlet lily from the fading bouquet on the desk and carried it back to his own office. He sat down behind his desk and studied the delicate flower for a long while.

  Benedict was right. They had just arrived at a subtle turning point in their relationship. Hatch had given the older man orders and Vincent Benedict had taken them. Hatch knew his hold on Benedict Fasteners was more secure than ever.

  His hold on Jessie Benedict, however, was still far too tenuous.

  He stared at the scarlet lily and remembered the expression on Jessie's face when she had climaxed in his arms.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eric Jerkface did not win first place at the science fair. When the award was handed out it went to a grinning Elizabeth benedict. Her father was standing proudly beside her when the film crew took the shots for the evening news. Jessie was so excited she could hardly contain herself. Constance, looking sophisticated in a white suit that clung to every full curve, smiled with delight.

  “Are you going to tell me how you pulled off this little miracle?” Constance murmured in Jessie's ear under cover of a round of applause. “I can't believe you got Vincent here. He made that business down in Portland sound more important than the Second Coming.”

  “Don't thank me, Connie. We owe this one to Hatch.”

  “He did it for you, didn't he?” Constance slid her a speculative glance.

  “Who? Hatch? Umm, yes. I believe he did.”

  “You don't sound overly thrilled. It was a lovely gesture, Jessie.”

  “The thing is, Connie, men like Hatch don't make lovely gestures unless there's a price tag attached.”

  “Such cynicism is unbecoming in a young woman, my dear. It's only us tough old broads who get to indulge in that kind of thing.”

  “What do I get to indulge in?” Jessie asked.

  “Safe sex, if you're lucky. And if you would stop being so damn picky. Your mother's starting to worry about you, you know. Lilian says she did not raise you to go into a convent.”

  Jessie felt herself turning a vivid shade of red as memories of the previous night on Mrs. Valentine's sofa burned through her mind again. “For heaven's sake, Connie.”

  “Well, well, well.” Constance gave her a warm, approving glance. “Congratulations. I assume we have Hatch to thank for that blush too?”

  Jessie fought for composure. “As I said, Connie, when men like Hatch make lovely ge
stures, there's usually a price tag attached.”

  “Take some advice from a tough old broad. Pay the price. By the way, speaking of the cost of doing business these days, I know this isn't exactly the time or place to ask, but have you had a chance to talk to Vincent about another little loan for ExCellent Designs?”

  Jessie groaned silently. “No, not really. I've been a little busy lately, Connie. I'll say something to him as soon as I get a chance.”

  “Thanks.” Constance smiled at her in gratitude. “Lilian and I would approach him ourselves, but those kinds of conversations always turn into screaming matches between the three of us. You know your father when it comes to money. He won't give it out unless there are strings attached. He likes to control people that way. You're the only one who seems to be able to talk him into being reasonable on the subject.”

  “Only because I go on screaming longer than you or Lilian,” Jessie pointed out morosely.

  The film crew was hovering over Elizabeth as she did her best to explain her chemical analysis of a toxic-waste dump to a reporter who wanted it summed up in a thirty-second sound bite. Jessie rushed forward as soon as the reporter was finished and hugged her sister tightly.

  “I knew you'd do it, kid. You were fabulous. Wasn't she, Dad?”

  “Damn good job, Lizzie.” Vincent gazed down on his younger daughter with genuine paternal pride. “I can't say I'm surprised, though. You are one smart little cookie, aren't you? I'll bet it comes from my side of the family.”

  Elizabeth turned pink and her grin grew wider. “I knew you'd be here today, Dad. Mom said you might not be able to make it at the last minute, but I knew you'd be here.”

  Constance Benedict gave her daughter a hug and then stood on tiptoe to brush her ex-husband's cheek with a quick, affectionate kiss. “Thanks for coming, Vince,” she murmured.

  Vincent caught Jessie's eye. “Wouldn't have missed it,” he said heartily. Jessie gave him a cool smile in return and turned back to congratulate her sister again.

  Fifteen minutes after the conclusion of the awards ceremony, Elizabeth scurried off to admire a friend's project and Constance stopped to chat with an acquaintance. Vincent came up beside Jessie, who was watching a small robot buzz around a tabletop.