Flirting with Danger, Bev Hardy [best ereader for pc .TXT] 📗

"They appear to have locked us in."

Okay, not exactly what he'd expected.

"And what about you, Charlie?" he finally said, reaching out with one hand towards her face. Her heart rate accelerated suddenly. What was he going to do? Sliding his fingers gently into her hair that was neatly tucked behind one ear again, he freed it, letting it fall around her face. "Are you happy?" he asked.

In the back of his mind, Luke was aware of the fact that being locked in there could be a huge problem for him considering that there was a corpse outside in the trunk of his car! However, he was still struggling to recover from the after effects of extreme arousal, and his brain wasn't functioning on practical matters properly. See, that was why having women around in criminal cases was a real bad idea!

"You sure?" he asked her.

"Yes, of course I'm sure," she replied, running a frustrated hand through her hair.

He followed her movement with his eyes. She wore her hair tucked behind one ear, he'd noticed. Somehow, it never seemed to move from there. As her fingers ran through the perfectly sleek strands, however, her hair fell from her ear and tangled slightly. It left it more ruffled looking. It was more her, the her he used to know anyway. That was one thing he'd noticed about Charlie since he'd returned: she seemed more… neat and perfect, too much so. He knew she was before, but not this much. Even this neat and tidy life of hers in the Country Club, organizing…whatever it was that she organized, and that guy she had hanging round her, Richie, he was conveniently there, even though she couldn't really want to stay with him ...it just didn't ring true to the Charlie he knew before. Sure, she liked things by the book, but she got her kicks out of showing she was as good as any guy in MI5, and if that meant getting down and dirty, she never turned down the challenge. She had dealt with the lowest of scum on a daily basis, and pushed herself more than she probably should have. She thrived off that. How could her life now, without being an agent, satisfy her?

What was he thinking? He had to focus.

Charlie had moved to the desk and was searching through the drawers for something.

Luke strode to the window, peering out over the sheer drop of a flat brick wall.

"We'll never get out of there," Charlie said, glancing in Luke's direction.

"Okay, you seem to know this place. How we gonna get out then?" he asked.

"We aren't," she replied, giving up on her search and throwing the paper she had found down on the desk with annoyance. "Well, not unless someone happens to check in on this office tonight."

"And how likely is that?"

"Not very likely on a Sunday."

"Hmm." Luke momentarily attempted to piece together ideas in his head. "So what's that?" he asked, pointing to the paper she had thrown down on the desk.

"Doug's schedule. He's away for the weekend. It has his contact number on it," she informed him.

"Doug?"

She nodded. "The director."

"So, phone him."

"Can't," she replied, sinking into the office chair. "My mobile is out there." She turned to stare at the wooden panelled door, biting her lip.

"Mobile?"

"Phone," she supplied for him, still staring at the door.

He groaned.

"Along with the keys," she added.

"Great, what d'ya leave them out there for?"

She turned to him with a frown. "Don't start Adams. I didn't know that Sue and Dennis were going to sneak in here for outrageous fornication!"

A grin developed on Luke's face at the memory. "Yeah, it was kinda 'outrageous'," he quoted her.

She rolled her eyes. "So that's that then, we're stuck here now until the cleaners arrive tomorrow morning. Bloody brilliant!" She stood up abruptly and the chair skidded backwards on its wheels as the strode over to a mini fridge in a shelving unit that ran along one side of the room. She opened the door and took out a decanter of water, picking up a crystal whiskey glass from off the shelf, and placing it down with an angry thud before pouring herself a glass of water.

Luke watched her movements but his mind was elsewhere. "Charlie, the car's out there. You think someone will impound it?" he asked, glancing out of the window anxiously.

She laughed. "We're not in America now Luke. This is rural Kent. The car won't be 'impounded'," she assured him, "Not…"

"…on a Sunday," he said in unison with her. "What is it with you people here on Sundays?" he asked.

She smiled, wouldn't he like to know. "Doug is always away on a Sunday," she informed him.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Ahh, and while the cat's away…"

"Precisely," she grinned.

"Hmm, and how those mice have been playing," he grinned back, his eyes twinkling at her.

"Hmm." Her eyes remained on his for a few seconds, before they returned to the closed door, as she leant back against the shelving unit and sipped her water thoughtfully.

"Charlie," Luke began moments later, "you don't suppose one of them 'country club mice' murdered Roberto, do you?" he asked, moving to the desk and beginning to flick through the surveillance discs.

She frowned. "I doubt it. What would they want to kill some random American for?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? I've said it before, these aristocratic types are nuts most of the time." He laid a set of discs out across the desk to better study them.

"Oh, and that would include me then, would it?" she replied with annoyance. Her family were aristocrats and he knew it. "On second thoughts, I can quite understand someone wanting to kill a random American. I've had the same feeling many times before," she said sarcastically. He wasn't listening though. His face fell as his eyes frantically scanned the discs. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"They're gone," he said, hitting the desk top with the back of four fingers.

"What are gone?"

"The discs for today," he said, his voice rising. "All of them; they're gone."

"What?" she said, moving towards the desk. "They can't be."

"I'm telling you Charlie, they aint here," he insisted, gesturing to a gap in the row of discs. "They're all labelled, times and dates, but there aint none from today. Somethin' aint right," he said, shaking his head and staring suspiciously at the discs on the desk. "Could the killer have got in here?" he asked.

"No," she frowned, "this door is always kept locked."

"So who has keys?"

"Only two other people, Doug and I…oh, and the cleaners," she added.

He thought for a moment, a finger on his lip. "Those two other people, they wouldn't be Sue and Denny, would they?"

"Dennis," she corrected. "No, at least I didn't think they had keys. Why would they?"

"I dunno, but they must have, 'cause they locked us in here for starters. Ahh," his face lit up with realization, "Maybe Sue and Denny…"

"Dennis," she corrected again.

"Dennis, whoever, maybe they've not just been doing it in here. Maybe they've been fornicating all over the club!"

She pointed at him. "And they took the discs to hide the fact."

He grinned. "Or maybe for further stimulation."

She looked taken aback at the thought of them taking the discs to watch themselves. Good grief, maybe they hadn't taken them for that reason and it was just Luke's dirty imagination. "Adams, you have a filthy mind," she concluded, turning to walk away.

"Me? Hey, I'm not the guy who's got some obsession with giving women one in public places, then watching the footage," he laughed, "the randy little…"

"You're 'randy' enough too," she interrupted, turning back abruptly and glaring at him.

Amusement danced in his eyes. He leant back against the window sill, crossing his arms. "Yeah? Howd'you know?"

She held his challenging gaze and refused to let the smile that threatened develop. "We worked together for years; I know the signs."

Luke, on the other hand smiled openly, studying her with interest. "Well, Charlotte, you can't have been 'randy' for any of those years at all, 'cause I never saw no signs from you."

It took all the effort she had to stop that smile. "So, as soon as we get out of here, we go to see Dennis, get the discs, and you'll be exonerated," she said, purposely changing the subject.

She was such a tease.

"Yeah. And Denny boy is gonna hand those discs over if he wants to keep his little secret safe," Luke pointed out.

"Exactly." She sighed and walked to the office chair, taking a seat again. "We just have to get through a night locked in here first."

Then, to make matters worse, she slowly became aware of a ringing sound that could be heard coming from the office outside.

"Oh no," she put a hand to her head, "Richie."

"Ahh, shame," Luke commented.

She dropped her hand and turned to him with a frown. "What's wrong with you?"

He shrugged. "Nothing'."

Her expression softened slightly. "You two would probably get along you know."

"Why? Because he's American?"

"Well, yes," she answered a little uncertainly. "You could talk about…I don't know, New York or something."

He stared at her then for a few moments disconcertingly. She felt suddenly uneasy. "What?" she asked.

"How long you been seeing this guy Charlie?"

"Almost a year, why?"

"Not even a year," his eyes widened. "Not even a year and the guy proposes?"

What was wrong with that? "It has been known before," she replied, "Anyway, he tends to do that a lot," she shrugged. "I don't take it too seriously. I'm not ready for marriage again… at the moment," she emphasised.

"Well, he must be quite serious if he carries a ring around with him," he pointed out.

"Hmm. Why are you asking anyway?"

He laughed. "Because he's not from anywhere near New York. Thought you'd have known that about him," he challenged.

She thought for a moment before replying defensively. "Just because he's not from New York, that doesn't mean he's never visited it."

She didn't understand, and she didn't know this guy that well either, he concluded.

"What's this guy do?" he asked.

"He's a philanthropist," she answered, knowing that he would have something to say about that too. Why was he being like this?

"A what?" he laughed.

"He works with charities, financing projects," she explained. "Helping people," she stressed.

"That ain't no job," he commented.

"Can we stop this interrogation now please Luke?" She stood again, and walked back to the shelving unit, her back turned to him. Being locked in there with him seemed suddenly stifling, with no way of putting space between them.

What kind of guy didn't work? And where did he get the money from anyway?

"Sorry," he said suddenly, watching her withdrawal. "It aint none of my business."

She swung back to him. "If we have to spend the night in here together, at least we can try to get along."

"Sure we can," he said, his face breaking into a reassuring smile.

She sighed before a sudden shudder overtook her. She was getting cold.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, moving towards a cupboard at the far end of the shelving unit. "I'm just a bit chilly, that's all. I think there is a blanket in here somewhere from the club picnic," she said, fumbling in the cupboard and eventually pulling out a bright blue blanket. "Thank goodness," she exclaimed, unfolding it, draping it around