“Were you jealous he’d given her such an expensive gift?” she asked around his finger. “Or that the family fortune paid for it—at about the same time your father had refused to subsidize your first business venture?”
Michael’s hand fell away. “My father insisted that whatever I did with my future from the time I turned sixteen was completely up to me. There was no access to a trust fund—not until I’m forty. Forty, Scarlet. So, yes, I had to figure out how to pay for Princeton. I had to figure out how to fund my enterprises. With no one’s help. No, I wasn’t jealous. I was too busy being resourceful.”
“But the five mil—”
“A saving grace, without doubt. It came after I’d graduated, with a student loan hanging over my head. That sugar plantation I inherited helped me to invest in my future. I’m grateful for it and that I was able to sell off a small portion. But make no mistake, Scarlet. That money did not come from criminal activity.”
He stared at her.
Scarlet could clearly see there was more to his story. A difficult push and pull between him and his father. Including a gauntlet thrown down by the senior Vandenberg indicating Michael had to work his way up the food chain in order to prove himself worthy of a chunk of the family pie?
She said, “I certainly don’t discount everything you’ve done to become the successful entrepreneur you are today. You’re a self-made man—”
“Let’s not take that notion too far,” he contended. “I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. No hiding or disguising it. I just wasn’t handed everything on the proverbial platter that’s anticipated to follow. I did have to work for the things I wanted. Yet I obviously had advantages as well.”
With a soft smile, she said, “Big of you to admit all that. And I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m trying to understand who you are. I already admire what I’ve learned to date. It’s just that I have a job to do, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” He kissed her, then added, “My advice, however, is that you look outside the mansion walls for your culprit, not within them.”
Scarlet gave a slow nod. “There are theories.”
“I’ve heard them.”
“Not mine.”
“Whatever happened that night isn’t my responsibility or concern. Do I feel bad Karina’s paintings were stolen?” He gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t know. She came into my life at a difficult time, when I was still dealing with my mother’s death and the terms of my trust fund. We didn’t hit it off. Worse, she insinuated a son my age into the household. I wasn’t ready for that. Not at first. So I was emotionally detached.”
“Just one more question,” Scarlet ventured, sensing she was losing him to an angst that related to family matters, not art theft. “Do you still feel that way about her?”
Michael let out a long breath. Rolled onto his back. Though he brought Scarlet with him so she was tucked under his arm, against his hard body.
As his fingers absently twirled her long strands, he said, “I have a complicated relationship with my family. The turmoil dates back to childhood, so it’s not exactly Ka
rina’s fault. I didn’t agree with how quickly my father could get over one wife in favor of a new one.”
Scarlet knew that Lindsay Vandenberg, Michael’s mother, was a cancer patient who’d died of pneumonia. She also knew that Mitcham had married Karina the same year he’d buried Lindsay. Naturally, that made Scarlet wonder if Karina had been waiting in the wings, and for how long. Had she and Mitcham secretly been involved prior to Lindsay’s illnesses? Or maybe not so secretly—had Michael known about it?
Did any of this matter?
Scarlet wasn’t sure.
So for the moment, she dropped the topic. She needed to process the entire interaction with him this evening and everything she’d discerned thus far.
Her hand splayed over his chest and her fingertips lightly stroked his warm, smooth skin. She said, “Thank you for tolerating my inquiry. I’m not trying to be invasive. I have a mind that doesn’t really shut down. Hard as I try. It can be a bit of a curse sometimes. I require constant mental stimulation. Puzzles provide that.”
“Scarlet…” He sighed. “I haven’t been avoiding you because I have something to hide. I have a hectic schedule. I travel every week. I have meeting after meeting. Every day. Well into the night. I created this world, this reality, for myself, but it can also be a double-edged sword. I have to pick and choose who I give my time to.” He was quiet for a few moments, then told her, “I’ll confess that you being so damn striking and wearing that skintight red dress this evening nabbed my attention. Yet it was so much more beyond your appearance that held it. You get me hot, yes. Especially in that black mini and the boots you changed into. But you also intrigue me. Fascinate me. Whatever. It’s impossible to deny.”
Her lips pressed to that tempting indentation at the base of his throat. Then she gazed at him. “It’s no longer a criminal case, Michael. I still have to follow every lead, though. Help the insurance company recoup any monies if that’s appropriate.”
His body stiffened. Scarlet continued to stare into his eyes.
In a tight voice, Michael explained, “The thing about Vandenbergs is that they don’t like people digging into their business. It’s sort of a centuries-old entitlement thing. We tend to think we’re above reproach. So of course we find anyone who’s purposely searching for the chinks in our armor to be … offensive.”
“I get what you’re saying.” It was a veiled warning. But one she could live with. So much so, she slipped a leg over his hunky body and straddled him. She placed her palms on his chest, and as her sex slowly glided against his rapidly thickening erection she said, “But despite my poking and prodding, I don’t think you find me the least bit offensive.”
Michael’s large hands clasped her hips. He shifted just so. Sank into her, blissfully filling her. And said, “Not in the least.”
FIVE