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  So why was she?

  Halfway down the long hallway, Nicky heard a floorboard creak a few yards behind her. Casually, she tucked her left hand into her pocket and felt the evidence still safely hidden there. Meanwhile, the creak had turned into footsteps that were fast approaching. Turning, she feigned surprise. “Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she blurted. “How is your morning going, Frank?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” he replied. “You’re finding your way around all right I see?”

  She nodded. “Mind if I ask you something?” she ventured, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

  “Not at all. In fact, Mr. Anderson mentioned that you might have some questions.”

  She smiled at the silver-haired gentleman with the kind face. “Would you happen to know when Matt’s fiancée will be coming for her next visit?”

  Frank’s gray brows dropped over his eyes in a severe line. “I believe what Mr. Anderson meant was that I should answer any questions that had to do with the house, not Mr. Anderson.”

  Nicky took a step back. “I’m sorry, Frank. It’s just that I…”

  “It’s okay, dear,” he said, patting her gently on the shoulder. “I would tell you more, it’s just that Matt has sworn me to secrecy about certain things. It seems there has been a lot of prying lately into his personal life. And as his butler and oldest friend, I’m inclined to support him in any way I can.”

  Nicky quickly nodded. “I understand. I didn’t mean to put you in a bad situation.”

  Frank smiled. “That’s okay. You’re not the first, that’s for sure.” He turned to go, then hesitated. “What I can tell you is that I’ve never seen Matt so happy as he was last night. I can understand why he wants to keep you around a while longer.” He winked at her and then walked away, whistling as he disappeared into the next room.

  Nicky continued on toward the guestroom feeling a little lighter, though she didn’t exactly know why. Frank had more or less admitted that Matt had engineered it so she couldn’t leave. It was a compliment, she supposed.

  Then again, he obviously enjoyed female company in general. So he liked having her around—so what? He was still planning to marry four weeks from now.

  Then she remembered what the letter had said. When are you coming to see me again? The question remained—why didn’t he go to see her more often?

  She thought about what Matt had said over dinner, that his fiancée liked to hang around New York and spend her father’s money. Money spent on teddies, she thought, trying to imagine how such a city girl was going to live in a place like this. A quiet, remote, beautiful place like this.

  Nicky turned into her room and swiftly shut the door. She took out the letter and skimmed through its rather mundane contents, eager to get to the end, to the woman’s signature. But there wasn’t a signature. All it said was, “Love, J”. Nicky looked through the letter again, hoping to find a clue that would tell her something more. No luck. Nothing but childish sweet nothings. She found it hard to believe Matt was planning to marry the writer of this simple letter.

  She flipped over the envelope, her eyes searching for the return address. But once again, there was no name, not even a street address, simply a box number in New York. Not good, she thought. It could be difficult to get her name from a box number.

  Nicky rubbed the residual ache along the top of her forehead. All she could do now was develop those shots and hope what she’d come up with was enough to satisfy Smith. Yes, she’d go and spend some time in the darkroom. And then maybe, when she came back out into the light, she’d have an idea of what to do next.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicky smiled to herself in the dim red glow of the darkroom. Even shots as uninteresting as these were fascinating to watch as the images came alive in her hands, each one taking on a life of its own.

  She hung up the freshly developed black-and-white prints to dry. At least the clothing shots had turned out well. Together with the letter and the lingerie, she could tell Smith she had made a start.

  She switched off the red light over the desk where she’d been working and was about to reach through the pitch-black darkness for the door when she heard footsteps approaching. Pulling instinctively back from the door, she waited, listened. The footsteps stopped just outside the door, then nothing.

  She held her breath and stood perfectly still. It wasn’t that she shouldn’t be here—Matt himself had given his permission—it was that she didn’t want anyone seeing these pictures except her boss and Matt’s mother. They didn’t exactly bear witness to her role as a magazine photographer, and she had no idea how to explain them if she were caught.

  The doorknob rattled slightly and turned. She shifted back to the desk but knew she wouldn’t have time to hide the drying photographs if the red darkroom lights were turned on.

  A brief shaft of daylight darted across the room, but it was quickly swallowed up by darkness once again as the door whipped closed. She hadn’t been able to see who it was, but someone had entered the room that was as large as her apartment living room. She was no longer alone.

  She listened for footsteps behind her, for movement of any kind, but heard nothing. And yet, her instincts told her someone was behind her. There was an invasion in the room of body heat, of musky masculine skin, of bated breath.

  “Hello?” she said weakly into the darkness.

  Nothing.

  And then she felt him.

  His hands grasped her arms firmly from behind, holding her in place while his lips grazed the side of her neck.

  Matt…

  She recognized the woodsy aftershave, knew the outline of his body as he pressed up against her. Her heart was pounding with confusion, attraction, and a slight tremor of fear. What kind of game was he playing?

  She thought of the videotape and wondered briefly if this were another of his sexual fantasies. But she couldn’t think for long. Not with the way he was nuzzling her neck and burying his face in her hair. She could feel the taut contours of his thighs flush against her, could feel the shaft of his penis through his trousers.

  He was already hard for her.

  A tingling sensation erupted in the central core of her body. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop, but she was already responding to the way he was approaching her—like the man and woman she had spied on two days before, he an invader and she the waiting recipient of his dark desires.

  He pressed harder against her from behind, pushed her forward, forcing her to take a step into the darkness. Her upper thighs came into contact with the desk where she’d just been working.

  Aware of the contact with the large piece of furniture, Matt released her arms and she felt herself being instantly stripped of her jacket. Wearing only her thin camisole, he pressed her forward, until she was leaning against the solid wooden desktop, her hands gripping the sides. He was going to take her from behind, just like the woman in the video. The thought of it left her breathing shallow with anticipation.

  She didn’t want to stop it. The same ache she had just managed to relieve herself of was back in the depths of her groin. She could feel her vagina spilling its juices between her legs as his hands slipped around either side of her rib cage to the buttons that ran down the front of her eyelet top. Slowly, painstakingly, while her breasts rose and fell beneath his hands, he released each one. Then he pulled the single piece of material away from her shoulders and arms, leaving her in only her bra and skirt.

  She tried to reach behind her, to where his erection pushed up against her. She wanted to feel him too, wanted to undress him as he was undressing her. But he soon let her know the game wasn’t played that way. Quickly, he clasped her wrists and firmly placed them back on the desk in front of her.

  Surrendering to him, she leaned forward and waited for his next move. The darkness was so impenetrable, she could only guess where he would touch her next. And for a long moment, he didn’t touch her. All she could feel was his breath, hot on the nape of her neck.
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br />   At last she felt his hands rounding her bare forearms, then slowly sliding upward, until he reached her bra straps. His fingers deftly grasped the straps and pulling them down off her shoulders.

  The movement caused her breasts—now heavy and swollen with need—to fall free of their trappings. She groaned with relief and excitement as he cradled them in his large, able hands, his thumbs proceeding to rub over the surface of her nipples, making them rise at his bidding.

  She panted as he tormented her with more fondling, caressing and rubbing her nipples until they were hard as his erection. Then she felt another tremor rip through her as his lips descended down her back. With his left hand still kneading her breast, he used his right hand to lift her skirt to her waist, drawing it smoothly upward over the fresh silk panties she had just put on a few hours before. She knew they were soaking in response to Matt and this furtive sexual encounter.

  A tightness grew in her groin as he yanked the panties down her legs, his own desire hastening his movements. She heard the zip of his fly opening, and tried once again to reach for his erection, but was pushed away.

  “No,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and slow. “Like this.”

  She felt his hands on her thighs just below her buttocks, holding them firmly apart. His thick shaft slid easily between her legs and came into instant contact with her , warm juices.

  “Do you want me?” he whispered.

  Oh God, he was going to make her talk, just like in the video. He was going to make her beg for it.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she croaked. “Yes.”

  Liking her answer, he plunged his erection full-force into her, making her scream. It was shocking, and, at the same time, thrilling as a bolt of energy ripped through her body.

  And as he started to move inside her, she felt a sense of relief, but it didn’t last. Renewed need once again claimed her as he withdrew. She tensed her vaginal muscles as he entered her again, wanting to feel every inch of him inside her. And as he penetrated this time, she felt the true length of his thick cock, the one she had seen with such clarity in the video. The one that more likely belonged to a god than a mere mortal.

  He increased his rhythm, and she felt her body naturally reciprocating, her muscles clenching and releasing with his every plunge.

  Leaning over the top of the desk in the darkness, she clung to the corners for support as he drove into her again, harder now, faster. Then she felt him slip his left hand around to her clitoris that was also erect and already throbbing from his being inside her. She groaned as he started to stroke the sensitive tip while still thrusting into her from behind.

  There was nothing she could do but hold onto the solid wood frame of the desk as her body took flight into the darkness. Hungry for orgasm, she could feel the tension building with every touch of his fingers on her nub, with every deep, penetrating stroke of his penis inside her vagina.

  As he went on pleasing her, she saw images flash before her eyes in the darkness, images of the woman bent over the bed, of Matt penetrating from behind. And those words—words he had forced her to say. Fuck me…

  She heard them repeat in her mind as he increased the rhythm of his penetration. And as he did so, he replaced his hand with hers, guiding her fingers to her clitoris to take over where he left off. She knew instinctively that he needed both hands now to steady himself behind her, to ground himself for the final push, and the wild, frenetic speed he was reaching.

  And then her climax came, sudden and powerful, knocking the breath out of her as a cry fell from her lips. Her whole body pulsed with the force of it as he continued thrusting, knowing he was prolonging the excruciating pleasure bursting inside her.

  She gasped for breath. The throbbing within her vagina and clitoris was slowly dissipating, but Matt was doing anything but slowing down. In fact, now she realized he had previously been holding back. With unbridled vigor, he unleashed all his strength, ramming into her with a force and power she’d never experienced before.

  Her vagina was still taut from her orgasm, molding around him perfectly, but she added to his pleasure by clenching the muscles along her shaft, trying in vain to hold him inside her.

  Her efforts weren’t in vain. With a final plunge he reached his own climax. She could feel his penis throbbing inside her with his release. He groaned intensely and leaned against her, his left hand rising up to caress her breasts one last time. His breath was a warm current on the back of her ear, ebbing softly as the pulsating gradually diminished inside her.

  Then she felt him withdraw, felt the sudden exposure of skin to air as he turned away, the side of his suit jacket skimming her hip. She used the desk to straighten herself and was about to turn on the light when she remembered she was nearly naked while he was fully clothed. Instead, she pulled her bra back into position and then bent down to the floor, feeling around for her panties and top. She noticed her knees were shaking slightly from the rigors of their encounter.

  In front of her, a brief spill of light fell as the door opened and closed.

  She picked up her clothes, then stood and reached for the red lamp over the desk. She switched it on. There was no one in the room but her.

  * * * * *

  Feeling disheveled and a little lightheaded, Nicky slipped back to her room. She couldn’t explain what had just happened, and if she still weren’t throbbing from the incredible bliss she’d just experienced, she would have to wonder if it had all just taken place in context of her mind.

  But her body told her it had been very real. Between her thighs her juices were still fresh, her clitoris and labia still plump with arousal.

  Matt must have come home earlier than expected and come looking for her, desiring her again. She smiled as she thought, reflecting now over the way he’d taken her, in the black pitch of the darkroom. Like a thief in the night.

  Then a bitter aftertaste rose to her mouth. Where did this leave her? she wondered with a sigh. Now what? Should she go her own separate way, as if nothing untoward had ever happened?

  Yes, Nicky thought. No complications. That would be best for everyone, considering the situation.

  She pursed her lips as she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He really had no right to be acting like this—to be treating her, not to mention his fiancée, with such disregard. As if she were just a plaything and nothing more.

  But then again, she had to admit she had enjoyed every minute of being his plaything. After all, he wasn’t the only one gaining pleasure from it. Even if she never saw him again, she knew she wouldn’t have any regrets.

  After showering and quickly drying her hair, Nicky decided she would give her boss a quick call before driving back to the city. Her car must be repaired by now, she thought, as she threw on her clothes and removed a large envelope from her bag, tucking the photos, letter, and teddy into it. Making certain no one was around, she slipped downstairs to Matt’s office. She closed the door, then once again settled in behind the enormous desk. Then she picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number.

  “Hey, Smithy, it’s me,” she said.

  “Well, well,” he chuckled. “Whatcha got, Nick? A photo, I hope.”

  “Several, in fact.”

  “That’s my girl!”

  “But not of her. That would be kind of difficult, since she hasn’t been around,” she explained, fiddling with the envelope. “What I have are shots of the clothes she leaves behind on her weekend visits.”

  “Oh. Doesn’t sound too convincing,” he mumbled. She could tell he was puffing on one of his cigars.

  “Wait, there’s more. I also found a sexy little number in his room, something he could never fit into. And a letter.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Who wrote it?”

  “That’s the problem. It’s signed with an initial—J. And the return address is a box number.”

  She heard her boss let out a disgusted grunt. “Well, send it along to me anyway
.” Nicky heard him swear under his breath.

  “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s the best I can do until the woman actually appears in the flesh.”

  “Fine. So stay there until she does.”

  “What? I was planning to come back this evening. Honestly Smithy, I can’t stay here much longer. The guy’s going to get suspicious.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” he growled.

  What could she say to convince him? Spending another night under the same roof as Matt would be forcing their relationship into dimensions beyond a brief fling. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. But how could she explain that to Smith? The last thing she wanted to do was lose her heart to a playboy.

  “You said the woman comes to visit on weekends?”

  “Yes…no. I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Even the butler won’t tell me.” She couldn’t even think straight now. Damn this case, anyway.

  “Well, today’s Friday,” he muttered. “She might just show up later, or even tomorrow. Stay the night and then call me. After you get a shot of our mystery woman.”

  Nicky knew she had no choice in the matter now, not with that tone of voice barking into her ear. She slumped against the back of the chair in defeat. “Oh, all right, I’ll see what I can do. But it’s not going to be easy for me, Smithy.”

  “Good. Talk to you later.”

  She sighed weakly as she hung up the receiver. How was she going to get herself invited to stay one more day without seeming too eager? Without seeming like she was in love with him?

  She had to admit the thought of spending another night did send a fresh thrill through her. Anticipation mixed with some trepidation.

  Pushing herself to her feet, Nicky wandered to the window and gazed past the trees at the sparkling lake sprawling beneath the afternoon sun. If only she had enough evidence to convince Smith, and Eleanor Anderson, that Matt really was in love. If only she could persuade them that nothing could change the man’s feelings for this mystery woman. That the case was as good as closed, and that he was as good as married.