Read Online Smart and Sexy by Jill Shalvis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Shalvis
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band, the sidewalks lined with shops and cafes and galleries all lit up like Christmas, all year long.
Above were two tall buildings designed to look like a Swiss ski resort, filled with condos, but now they resembled two towering dark, looming ghosts.
Both were empty, she knew, except the penthouse, which Alan had designed and furnished for himself because he liked to visit during construction, and he expected to be kept in style when he did. The penthouse was huge, ridiculously luxurious, and overwhelmingly opulent.
He’d brought her here once, a few months before his death, to show her off at an investor tour. She’d worn a sexy cocktail dress and smiled as directed, and had felt like a piece of meat.
If the money was hidden here, then it had to be there, in the only finished area—Alan’s penthouse.
At the door, she hit the keypad with frozen fingers and clicked in Alan’s favorite number: 6–9-6–9.
“You’re kidding me,” Noah said, watching over her shoulder.
She felt her face heat, wishing some of that would make its way to her fingers, but then the doors clicked and she shoved them open.
Noah pulled her inside and shut the doors behind them. It was pitch dark, and they took a moment for their eyes to adjust. There wasn’t much to adjust to. She knew they stood in a reception area that had been planned to be filled with upscale sophistication and elegance, but for now it was nothing more than expensive tiles and wood and unpaid bills.
“Elevator,” she said. “To the penthouse.”
“The elevator works?”
“Everything works, this place was nearly complete, all except the designers and furnishings, when…”
When Alan had bitten the dust.
He held her back from turning to the elevator. “We have to stop them from getting in here.” His voice was disembodied in the dark. “Or we’re sitting ducks.”
A grim reminder that they were being followed. She resisted grabbing him and never letting go. “They won’t know the code.”
“That won’t stop them.”
His grim certainty, in a cool, calm voice, gave her a shiver. No, that wouldn’t stop them. “What are you going to do?”
“Whatever I have to.”
Horror filled her. “Kill them?”
“Hell, no.” She felt him shudder, and his reaction might have been funny if anything about this situation could have possibly been funny. She’d been surrounded by bad guys for so long now, she just assumed everyone was one. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. Let’s just get what you need.”
She’d have sworn she’d become immune to emotions after all she’d been through, but like before with him, her throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. If anything more strange happens, I’m calling the cops.”
Panic filled her. “The police can’t help me.”
“Of course they can.”
“No.” She wouldn’t give Stephen a reason to go after Kenny. Or now Noah. “No police. Trust me. They can’t help.”
His gaze slid over her. A muscle in his jaw bunched. From inside his shirt, he pulled out what looked like a pen, but when he flicked a switch, it lit up like a flashlight.
“Stay back,” he said as he turned to some sort of electrical panel next to the doors. Opening it, he began punching numbers on the keypad. “Away from the window.”
“What are you doing?”
He shut the panel. “Gaining us some time.”
He’d messed up the code somehow, and she just looked at him, stunned. She’d have sworn she’d had him pegged, with that gorgeous smile, his careless, easy way of wearing clothes, the light stride, as if he’d never had a care in the world.
But he kept surprising her, leaving her off center, and completely unable to peg him. And damn, if she didn’t find herself with the tragically ridiculous realization that she was nursing a serious crush. Hell of a place to be, considering she’d practically kidnapped him. “Who are you, MacGyver?”
With the glow of the penlight, she saw a ghost of a smile curve his
Above were two tall buildings designed to look like a Swiss ski resort, filled with condos, but now they resembled two towering dark, looming ghosts.
Both were empty, she knew, except the penthouse, which Alan had designed and furnished for himself because he liked to visit during construction, and he expected to be kept in style when he did. The penthouse was huge, ridiculously luxurious, and overwhelmingly opulent.
He’d brought her here once, a few months before his death, to show her off at an investor tour. She’d worn a sexy cocktail dress and smiled as directed, and had felt like a piece of meat.
If the money was hidden here, then it had to be there, in the only finished area—Alan’s penthouse.
At the door, she hit the keypad with frozen fingers and clicked in Alan’s favorite number: 6–9-6–9.
“You’re kidding me,” Noah said, watching over her shoulder.
She felt her face heat, wishing some of that would make its way to her fingers, but then the doors clicked and she shoved them open.
Noah pulled her inside and shut the doors behind them. It was pitch dark, and they took a moment for their eyes to adjust. There wasn’t much to adjust to. She knew they stood in a reception area that had been planned to be filled with upscale sophistication and elegance, but for now it was nothing more than expensive tiles and wood and unpaid bills.
“Elevator,” she said. “To the penthouse.”
“The elevator works?”
“Everything works, this place was nearly complete, all except the designers and furnishings, when…”
When Alan had bitten the dust.
He held her back from turning to the elevator. “We have to stop them from getting in here.” His voice was disembodied in the dark. “Or we’re sitting ducks.”
A grim reminder that they were being followed. She resisted grabbing him and never letting go. “They won’t know the code.”
“That won’t stop them.”
His grim certainty, in a cool, calm voice, gave her a shiver. No, that wouldn’t stop them. “What are you going to do?”
“Whatever I have to.”
Horror filled her. “Kill them?”
“Hell, no.” She felt him shudder, and his reaction might have been funny if anything about this situation could have possibly been funny. She’d been surrounded by bad guys for so long now, she just assumed everyone was one. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. Let’s just get what you need.”
She’d have sworn she’d become immune to emotions after all she’d been through, but like before with him, her throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. If anything more strange happens, I’m calling the cops.”
Panic filled her. “The police can’t help me.”
“Of course they can.”
“No.” She wouldn’t give Stephen a reason to go after Kenny. Or now Noah. “No police. Trust me. They can’t help.”
His gaze slid over her. A muscle in his jaw bunched. From inside his shirt, he pulled out what looked like a pen, but when he flicked a switch, it lit up like a flashlight.
“Stay back,” he said as he turned to some sort of electrical panel next to the doors. Opening it, he began punching numbers on the keypad. “Away from the window.”
“What are you doing?”
He shut the panel. “Gaining us some time.”
He’d messed up the code somehow, and she just looked at him, stunned. She’d have sworn she’d had him pegged, with that gorgeous smile, his careless, easy way of wearing clothes, the light stride, as if he’d never had a care in the world.
But he kept surprising her, leaving her off center, and completely unable to peg him. And damn, if she didn’t find herself with the tragically ridiculous realization that she was nursing a serious crush. Hell of a place to be, considering she’d practically kidnapped him. “Who are you, MacGyver?”
With the glow of the penlight, she saw a ghost of a smile curve his
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