“I mean if you’re a cop, then what was Zoe doing being involved with you?” she asked. “I know my mother said she borrowed money and Zoe was working to help pay back the loan, but why would Damon want her . . . killed?” Ari swallowed hard, the words obviously difficult for her to say.
He inhaled deep before answering. “She was snooping around where she shouldn’t have been. Just like you started doing. But you had a sister you were looking for. Zoe just got herself into trouble,” he said, still being deliberately vague. “Damon’s putting up with your amateur sleuthing because he knows if you turn up missing, too, it’ll look bad for him. Plus this time he’s got me watching out for you whenever possible. He knows I won’t let you find anything.”
Ari narrowed her gaze. “What was Zoe looking for? Come to think of it, what are you looking for?”
He sighed, wishing he could give her so much more than he was about to offer. “I think your sister’s involvement in all this is something she needs to explain to you herself. As for me, it’ll all become clear in time. The less you know, the less trouble you can potentially get into.”
He’d revealed enough about their operation already. As for her sister, Zoe’s true occupation and why she’d kept it secret was her story to tell.
Ari frowned. “And when will that time finally come?” she asked, her frustration evident.
“With any luck, at the end of this weekend.”
“Aah.” She nodded slowly as understanding dawned. “The seven days you asked for.”
“That’s right. And until then, for Damon’s sake we continue the charade of being lovers.”
“Quinn?” she asked, meeting his gaze. “It’s not a charade.”
Relief was sweet and he grinned. “I hoped you’d say that.” He wasn’t about to press her on exactly what they were to each other. He’d never been one to label a relationship anyway. For now he’d take whatever she offered.
He noticed she had begun to undo her blouse. One button at a time, she slipped open her shirt, a provocative smile on her face. Watching her, he broke into an appreciative sweat. “You do know how to prove a point.”
“It’s one of the benefits of being with a teacher,” she said on a sultry chuckle.
He laughed. “Not one the school board would advertise, I’m sure.”
“Maybe not.” She dropped her blouse onto the sofa cushion beside her. “But I don’t see you complaining.”
“That’s because I’m a smart man.” He reached out and with one finger, drew a line from the base of her throat, down her neck and chest, until his fingertip nestled in the warm vee of her cleavage.
He sucked in a shallow breath, enjoying their banter and foreplay. “So tell me a little about this brazen side of you,” he urged her. He’d already told her that he thought the conservative teacher was a cover for the real Ari.
When he’d met her, she was wearing an uptight suit, then he watched her discomfort in the miniskirts and tight tops slowly disappear, proving to him that so much passion and depth lurked beneath the priggish professor persona. Now he wanted to know why the cover was necessary. Why she couldn’t be that delightful mixture of Ariana and Ari that he knew her to be.
“Aren’t there things you’d rather do than talk?” she asked in a husky voice, since his finger had begun to make its way across her left breast.
He inclined his head. “Yes, and we’ll get to that. As soon as you tell me why you keep this side of you so well hidden from everyone you know.” Beneath her lacy bra, he drew lazy circles around her nipple, careful to avoid touching her there and eliciting the wanton woman he knew she could be.
She exhaled and a low, trembling moan came out instead. “You expect me to talk right now?”
He nodded. “If you want satisfaction later, I do.”
She arched her back, which had the effect of pushing her breasts taut against her silky bra. “That’s blackmail,” she complained.
“And you’re stalling.” He shot her a bad-boy grin and started to withdraw his finger.
“Professor Ariana Costas is safe,” she admitted at last.
As a reward, he cupped her entire breast in his hand and began kneading her soft flesh.
Her eyelids fluttered closed, a happy sigh on her lips.
“Safe how?” he asked.
She swallowed and her throat worked convulsively. “Ari is what the family calls me.”
It’s what he called her, too, but he wasn’t about to mention it just yet.
“And Ari hits too close to home.”
“How so?” he asked, curious.
Ari sighed. “Well, Ari is the little girl in the tanning cream who turned orange and liked it. She’s the one who played lookout and laughed while her sister stole the principal’s spare keys to the boys’ locker room.” Her lips twitched as she recounted the memory. “Zoe wanted to douse the football team captain’s shorts with itching powder after he started spreading rumors about her.”