her in her most private moments, she didn’t think she could handle knowing her former employer had been reviewing the footage.
“No one but me has seen the actual footage. I just pulled off a few stills to show some of your transactions in progress. I would never compromise your privacy any more than absolutely necessary.”
She nodded, believing him.
“Thank you for that, at least.” Warmth swirled through her, although why she should feel so comforted that he would keep her amateur stripteases to himself, she wasn’t quite sure. “Do you need any tools to remove the camera? I have a screwdriver somewhere.”
Turning, she moved to retrieve it.
“Marnie, wait.” His hand clamped lightly around her shoulder and she froze. Not that he was holding her in place. Far from it. She could have easily kept on walking.
But it was the first time that he’d touched her for real and not just in passing—or in fantasies. The contact made her mouth turn dry and her legs felt a little shaky.
“What is it?” Her words were breathless.
She hoped he would interpret that as nervousness from finding out she’d been suspected of a major felony and under surveillance all in one evening. And honestly, that was part of it.
His hand slid away now that he had her attention, but the memory of it continued to warm her shoulder like a phantom touch.
“Would you consider answering a few questions about your work with Premiere Properties?”
“Of course.” She resisted the urge to fan herself. Obviously, if she was so desperate for male companionship that she would continue to think about someone who had spied on her in an, er, romantic way, she needed to get out more often.
“I’ve eliminated a lot of people.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and emerged with a paper. “My focus has narrowed to people involved with this place.”
He handed her the folded sticky note with a half-dozen luxury resorts listed, along with highly placed individuals within those properties. Although a handful of names were still legible, only one resort wasn’t crossed out.
“The Marquis.” She knew the property well. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Returning the paper to him, she took a step back in every way possible. He might as well have indicated a nest of rattlesnakes.
“Why do you say that?” He frowned, looking at the paper again.
“You haven’t done much homework for a guy who’s been on the case for two months, have you?” She thought about pouring herself another sip or two of champagne, then figured she’d be better off just finding the damn screwdriver so he could take his camera and go.
She slid out from behind the coffee table to hunt through her desk.
“On the contrary, I’ve worked my ass off. White-collar crimes like this can be filtered through so many different accounts electronically that it makes it damn difficult to trace.” He followed her to the desk, sidestepping a few items on the floor from when she’d cleared the shelves in a frightened fury. “After hiring a forensic accountant, I spent most of my time investigating you since, on first look, the money appeared to have been leaking wherever you traveled last year.”
Her frantic culling through pens and paperclips paused.
“You think someone wanted it to look like I was responsible?” A new fear gripped her, superceding her outrage at being secretly videotaped.
“Yes. And when you opened this business, I wondered if you’d just found a new way to skim money from the same properties you worked with at Premiere since you continued to book trips to a lot of the same resorts.”
“Because they’re great destinations and I know them inside and out.”
“Including the Marquis?”
Slamming the door shut with her knee, she rubbed her temple where a stress headache wanted to take root.
“No. That one isn’t really—” Sighing, she began again. “It’s a unique place. Well off the beaten path just outside of scenic Saratoga, New York. Strictly for adults.”
“It didn’t come up in my early searches, but I just figured it was one of those high-end places that doesn’t advertise.”
“It is.” Just thinking about the things she’d seen there the last time she visited made heat crawl up her cheeks and take up residence. “Technically, Premiere doesn’t own it, but they are a partner of the eccentric owner and they take care of the food service and a few other basics. It’s a complicated relationship and it’s important that it remains under the radar since the guests are guaranteed a highly—” she cleared her throat “—sensual experience.”
Was it just her, or was sex coming to mind way too much during this conversation? While she’d like to believe it was just the buzz of good champagne in her veins that made her feel so pleasurably warm inside, she knew it had more to do with Jake Brennan being in the room with her. He would make any woman take notice.
“Sounds like the perfect place to hide an embezzlement crime.” His jaw flexed, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head, fitting this new piece of evidence into the puzzle.
“Actually, precious little is hidden in the rooms of the Marquis.” She studiously avoided looking at him while thinking about what went on in that private resort. Her eyes locked on the screwdriver in a silver cup holder on her desk. “Here.”
She passed him the tool and eased past him to clear a path to the bookcase so he could take his equipment—and his questions—and go.
He took the screwdriver, following more slowly.
“It also sounds like the perfect place to lose yourself.”
“Excuse me?” She pulled the belt tighter on her bathrobe.
No matter that she wore a tank top and comfy pair of girly boxer shorts underneath it. The more layers the better during a conversation about a sex-drenched playground with a droolworthy stud who’d not only seen her mostly naked, and seemed to enjoy the view.
Ah, who was she kidding? She was enjoying checking him out just as much. Too bad he had already pulled a fast one on her or she might have considered acting on the sizzling connection between them.
“I want to avail myself of your services through Lose Yourself. I need you to book me a trip to this place as soon as possible.”
The image that presented—Jake Brennan stalking the secret lairs of the sexually adventurous—gave her heart palpitations. And, oddly, inspired a ridiculous surge of jealousy for all the women who would dole out their best tricks to attract his notice.
“No.” She folded her arms. Shook her head. “You don’t want to go there. There’s a strict policy about hidden cameras anyway. Definitely not your kind of place.”
“Don’t you want to find out who tried to pin about ten different federal crimes on you?”
“Yes,
