KELLY STRETCHED LONG under the warm, fluffy comforter. She couldn’t remember another time in her entire life when she’d slept so deeply or so well. She sighed, not wanting to leave her snug little cocoon.
It was her day off. She could sleep until noon.
And, hey, since she was living in Wentworth Manor, maybe she could order up breakfast in bed? She smiled at the thought. What time was it anyway?
She rolled to her right side expecting to read the digital clock on the nightstand. Instead she gazed into the big blue eyes of Jason Wentworth, his feet on the floor, elbows propped on the bed, staring at her.
“Hi, Mommy.”
Kelly swallowed, a burst of unexpected pleasure breaking through her sleepiness. “Hi, Jason.”
He climbed into bed beside her. She sat against the headboard and quickly pulled the covers over her chest. Was it okay to share this kind of intimacy with the kid? She always slept in a thin cotton tank top and panties. The little dude might think she was his mother, but she wasn’t. What should she do?
And where was Trey?
Jason settled himself against her belly, his knees bent. “You slept late this morning.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have to go to work today.”
A giant smile wreathed his face, and she noticed he’d developed a few freckles on his nose and cheeks. His hair was lighter, too. Probably from all the time in the pool.
“Really?” he asked.
“Really. What do you want to do today?”
“Go swimming.”
“Okay,” she said. But should she have given permission without checking with his father? Why not? The kid wanted to swim, and so did she.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” Jason asked.
She sighed. So much for sleeping in.
“I’m ready for coffee. That’s for sure.”
“Jason?” Trey’s voice boomed in the hallway. “Where are you?”
“With Mommy,” Jason yelled back.
Eyes wide, looking as if a hungry lion were chasing him, Trey appeared in the doorway. What was wrong with him?
“What did I tell you, young man?” he demanded in a voice unlike she’d ever heard him use with his son.
Jason’s lower lip stuck out. “Not to wake up Mommy. I didn’t.”
“No,” Trey yelled. “I told you never to go into Mommy’s room under any circumstances.”
Jason’s eyes welled with tears at his father’s harsh voice. “But I waited for her to wake up.”
“It’s okay, Trey,” Kelly told him. “I don’t mind.”
“No, it is not okay,” Trey said.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know you are, but this is important, son.” Trey exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on out now, Jase. I need you to go downstairs so I can talk to Mommy.”
Deciding something awful must have happened to put Trey in such a foul temper, Kelly gave Jason a hug. “Go on, sweetie.”
“Are you coming?”
“I need to get dressed. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Moving much slower than he had getting into the bed, Jason climbed down and shuffled past his father into the hallway. When Jason had disappeared, Trey turned back to Kelly with furious eyes.
“Where’s your gun?” he demanded, striding into the room.
She blinked. “My gun?”
“Yes. You know, the thing with bullets that can kill curious little boys. Where the hell is it?”
“Is that why you’re upset Jase came into my room? You’re worried about my service weapon?”
“Yes.”
“It’s in a locked gun safe.”
Trey’s expression softened. “You brought a safe with you?”
“Of course.”
“Where?” he asked.
“The closet, top shelf.”
Trey jerked open the closet door and reached for the gun locker.
“There’s no way anyone could get inside,” she said. “Certainly not a kid. And I doubt Jason could even lift it.”
Trey moved to the bed carrying the safe. “Yeah, it’s heavy,” he said.
He worked at the box, trying for several minutes to pry it open. Finally, he released a huge breath and met her gaze.
“Sorry,” he said. “I feel like an idiot.”
“You don’t need to apologize for being worried about gun safety. That means you’re a responsible parent.”
“The hell I am.”
He collapsed on the foot of the bed, pulling the comforter off her shoulders. She yanked the sheet back over her chest knowing her nipples stood out like beacons through the thin fabric.
“I meant to ask you where you kept your gun sooner.”
“There’s been a lot going on,” she said.
“And when I realized Jason had gone into your room...” Trey broke off and shook his head. “I guess I panicked. I should have trusted you. You’re a professional law enforcement officer.”
“Please don’t worry about it, Trey. No cop will ever be mad at a parent for worrying about keeping their kids away from guns.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, and she became hyperaware that she was in bed, practically naked, and a gorgeous man, one with whom she’d shared several delicious kisses, technically was in that bed with her. And he was reputedly the most eligible bachelor in the world.
“I heard you swimming last night,” he said.
“And I heard you whacking a bunch of tennis balls.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Good thing balls can’t hit back.”
“I get that.” His comment and bitter tone surprised her, although maybe they shouldn’t have. Trey Wentworth might have all the cash anyone ever needed or wanted, but everyone always insisted money didn’t solve every problem.
She’d just never bought into that before.
“Did torturing tennis balls make you feel better?” she asked.
“Somewhat.” He raked a hand through his hair again. “Until I realized Jase had come into your room.”
“I heard a rumor you won some big-deal tennis tournament.”
“That was a long time ago. Do you play?”
“Unfortunately, none of my foster parents had tennis courts.”
“There are public facilities, you know.”
“Yeah, well, I’m told you need a racket, which costs money.”
“I’ve got rackets you could use. Would you like to learn?”
Would she? Kelly hesitated. She loved sports. Why not learn a new one?
“You could teach me how to play?”
“It would be my pleasure. I’ll have the pro shop deliver some clothing,” he said, glancing at the clock.
She followed his gaze. Nine thirty. Damn, she’d slept later than she thought. No wonder Jason had showed up at her bedside.
“But first,” Trey said, “we have a meeting with the FBI.”
* * *
SATISFIED THAT JASON could never get at Kelly’s weapon, Trey rose and returned the gun locker to the top closet shelf.
“The FBI?” she demanded behind him.
Trey returned to her bedside. “Agent Ballard is on the ferry.”
Looking interested, she sat up, and the sheet fell away, revealing her perfect breasts straining against her tank top. He knew he should avert his gaze but couldn’t.
“Have they made an arrest?” she asked eagerly.
“I doubt it.”
He forced himself to look at her face. A current of something explosive and sensual arced between them. Her eyes widened in awareness. He clenched his fists, wanting to shed his clothing and climb into bed with her.
As worried as he’d been about Jason getting at her gun, he’d actually had a flash of envy when he saw his son snuggled next to her.
He’d just met this woman. She came from a world foreign to him. Was it because of their differences that he wanted her?
And she didn’t even respect him. So he once again wanted what he couldn’t have? Story of his life.
And all they’d shared were kisses. Good-night kisses for his confused son. Nothing more than that.
Yeah, and he wanted to kiss her again. This time without Jason watching. He took a step toward the bed.
Still holding his gaze, she raised the sheet over her chest. A knowing smile appeared, and he lowered his gaze to her mouth where her tongue darted out and swept her lips.
He took a step away from her. He needed to get out of here before he initiated something he’d regret. Jason needed Kelly. He couldn’t screw that up.
“Breakfast is waiting,” he said, moving toward the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
* * *
“SO YOU’RE NOWHERE on Jason’s abduction?” Trey demanded.
Agent Ballard turned from the buffet where he’d been scooping melon onto his plate. When Ballard had arrived, Trey had invited him to join them for breakfast, hoping against his better sense for good news.
“You have absolutely no leads at this point?”
“We have leads,” Ballard said, “but none of them are credible.”
“So why are you here?”
After dropping several of Greta’s fresh pastries beside the fruit, Ballard nodded toward Kelly, who was seated at the table gobbling down scrambled eggs, sausage and a huge helping of hash brown potatoes.
“Actually I’m here because of Officer Jenkins,” Ballard said.
Kelly looked up, her mouth full.
“What about Officer Jenkins?” Trey asked.
Ballard grinned. “She believes the kidnapping was—in her words—an inside job.”
Kelly swallowed and shot Ballard her best glare. Trey hid a smile. No love lost between those two.
“Kelly?” Trey asked.
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and said, “Jason was taken from the playground. I keep asking myself how the bad guys got on the island.”
Trey nodded. “Good question.”
“Either a resident put their names on the ferry list or they came by private boat to the marina,” Kelly said.
“We’ve combed through the ferry rosters from that day looking for discrepancies,” Ballard said. “There are none.”
“And I didn’t recognize any names on the list,” Trey offered. “What about the marina?”
“We’ve double-checked there, too,” Ballard said. “Impossible for someone to motor in or out without the staff noticing. Everyone had clearance.”
“What about a sailboat?” Kelly asked. “A landing on the beach or against the seawall?”
“The island’s security team has excellent coverage with surveillance cameras,” Ballard said. “We’ve been through everything the day of the abduction. No unauthorized boats landed or docked anywhere around the island.”
“So they had to get Jason off via the ferry,” Kelly said. “I checked with security. Guests aren’t followed to make sure they end up where they say they’re going.”
“I understand the playground is seldom used,” Ballard said.
“There aren’t many kids on this island,” Trey agreed.
“Yeah, mostly rich old guys,” Kelly muttered.
“As a result, there’s no surveillance video of the playground,” Ballard said.
“What are you getting at?” Trey asked.
“Because your housekeeper and son were in a rather isolated area, no one heard any screams for help,” Ballard said.
“But Maria was knocked unconscious,” Trey protested, looking from Ballard to Kelly. “You’ve seen her black eye. She fought for Jason.”
“We’re trying to reconstruct a possible chain of events so you’ll understand our thinking. You know that Jason’s tox screen showed he was drugged,” Ballard said.
Trey nodded. He’d allowed Carico to draw blood, even though he’d hated that his son had to go through a needle stick so soon after returning home.
“After drugging him, it’s likely they placed him in a large container, maybe a duffel bag, and then possibly in the trunk of a car to smuggle him on and off the ferry,” Ballard said.
Trey closed his eyes.
“Someone had to give Adam, and most likely Caleb, clearance for the ferry that day,” Kelly said.
“Without clearance, the car wouldn’t be allowed on the island,” Ballard agreed.
“I checked,” Kelly said. “Three members of your staff can put a name on the list.”
His appetite gone, Trey shoved away his own food. “I thought you’d already cleared everyone on my payroll.”
“They all passed an initial background check,” Ballard said. “Now I’d like them to take a polygraph.”
“A lie detector test,” Trey said. “I thought that wasn’t admissible as evidence.”
“It’s a tool,” Ballard said.
“I can’t force anyone to take a polygraph,” Trey said.
“But if a staff member refuses, it’ll give us someone to focus on,” Kelly said.
“We’re also looking at the personnel from the private firm that runs security on the island,” Ballard said. “Protection Alliance.”
“Great,” Trey said. “I just hired them to provide another layer of protection for Jason.”
“How well do you know your attorney?” Kelly asked.
Trey stared at her. “Brian Howell has been my friend since prep school.”
“Check him out, too,” Kelly suggested to Ballard. “Maybe he’s got money problems no one knows about.”
Her words were like a punch to his gut. If Kelly and Ballard were correct, then someone he trusted was willing to hurt his son. But it couldn’t be Brian. Not Hans, Greta. Not Maria. They’d been with him for years. But he had other maids, groundskeepers, temporary staff of maybe a dozen people to run the house while he was on Collins Island.
He might not know all of their names, but they were always well treated and paid an excellent wage. And they’d all passed his security check, the one that had so pissed off Kelly.
“You’re way out of line here,” Trey ground out. This was too much.
“The kidnappers had help getting on and off the island,” Kelly said. “Someone who knew Jason would be out of the house.”
Kelly had to be wrong. He refused to believe that someone he trusted—he employed—could have stabbed him in the back.
Damn her. He’d asked her to stay to help Jason, but her presence was causing nothing but more turmoil in his life.