Sin and the Millionaire Read online

  She kissed him back in the same way he kissed her, with an urgency to fill a need she’d refused to acknowledge. His marriage had been incomprehensible to her and he’d mourned a woman who hadn’t deserved him. She’d wanted to ask him what the hell he’d been thinking, if he’d been thinking at all. Then she’d seen him change. He’d come into his own, grown to be an even better man. And the confidence he’d exuded had made him sexy as hell. And this sexy man had her legs spread wide and her body nearly naked. He quickly disposed of the rest of his clothes, standing before her nude, a lion ready to pounce, and she was his meal. She’d never felt more wanted in her life, or more afraid. Not of him, never of him, but herself.

  Maybe it was the heated gleam in his eyes as he peeled off her bra, the angle of his lips as one corner tilted in a feral smile when he stripped her of her panties. Or maybe, just maybe, she simply wanted him. Whatever the reason, when next he pressed his open mouth to hers she stopped thinking and started feeling.

  Afterward, it was weird getting dressed in front of each other. She wasn’t sure what it all meant, but Duncan couldn’t get the wrong idea. She liked him, yes. More than liked him. It didn’t mean there could be more. Business and emotional stuff didn’t belong together. Maybe others could draw a line and stay on their side, but she didn’t think she could. Not with Duncan. With Duncan… She could fall in love. And if she thought she didn’t belong in his mansion, she sure didn’t belong in his high-techy world with all these smart people.

  The muscles in his back stretched as he bent over to pick up his jeans. She licked her lips as one strong leg and then the other disappeared into denim. There was something about the way he moved that she never noticed… mmm… more like never allowed herself to notice. He always moved with purpose. Like now, he didn’t go looking for his shirt. He knew exactly where it was. It was cat-like and sexy as hell. For a self-proclaimed nerd, he had this quiet confidence. Did he know it? One of the smartest man she’d ever met, he hadn’t assumed the worst about Harris until it hit him square in the face. Not because he wasn’t bright enough to see it but because he was loyal. Brains and loyalty, two of the qualities that had made Duncan give him her entire savings.

  “Duncan, I’m not sure what just happened.”

  He slipped on his shoes, then pulled her into his arms. “We just had sex,” he said. “Great sex.”

  She considered making a smartass comeback, her go-to when things got awkward. But she wasn’t going to play games. Not about this and never with Duncan. She wiggled out of his arms and took a seat on his desk, unable to block out what they’d just done on it. She cleared her throat.

  “Duncan,” she began again, praying they could go back to the way things were. Believing they should go back to the way things were. “I don’t want to make it awkward for us.”

  “Awkward how?”

  “Well, for starters you and I are embarking on a business together. We should have some level of professionalism.”

  “And we will,” he agreed. “But that’s business. This”—he indicated the two of them with his hand—“this is personal.”

  “You can’t mix the two.” What exactly was he suggesting?

  “We won’t. Business is business. Personal is personal.”

  “This,” she said, mimicking him with her own hand. “This was great. But it can’t happen again.” Not if they wanted to remain business partners, and she was in far too deep to pull out now.

  “I’m not Kyle,” he said, catching her off guard. “I’m not the loser that left you holding the bag. And I won’t screw you over. And if you’re suggesting we go back to the way things were… I don’t know how to do that. We made love, Lizzy.” Then his expression changed and he took a step back. Oh,” he said, his face falling, “this was just sex for you.” He scrubbed a hand across his mouth, that beautiful mouth that had made her feel wanted, loved, even. “Of course,” he said looking away.

  This wasn’t just sex for her, but she shouldn’t admit to that. It might make him happy now, but in the long run was it the best thing for both of them? He was a rich man. He didn’t need their company. She did. And if Victoria’s murder didn’t screw it up, she shouldn’t allow a lapse in judgment to. It didn’t matter that she’d wanted him. She couldn’t have everything she wanted. No one could. But one look at Duncan’s face and she couldn’t kick the puppy. “No, it wasn’t just sex.”

  He looked at her then, his expression hopeful as he drew closer. She raised a hand to stop him. “It doesn’t mean we can have more. Or should have more,” she added, in case he was going to argue the point, and knowing Duncan, he would. He got a kick from debating anything and everything. “You’re right. You’re not Kyle. But it was a leap of faith for me to trust doing another business venture with someone else. I earn a good living catering. Instead, I’ve sunk every last penny of my savings into your idea. I worked hard for that money. I bled for that money. I want to see something positive come from it. Maybe I was meant to have Kyle screw me over. It led me here, but I won’t repeat that mistake. You may not be Kyle, but I am who I am. I can’t sleep with a man and just be friends, any more than I can go into business with that man and be able to focus on business should our relationship get into trouble.”

  “You’re assuming we won’t make it.”

  “I’d need to know I could kick your ass to the curb if I have to and not have it affect the company. And yes, if we can’t finish what you want us to start here, then it’ll be awkward running a business I’ve sunk everything into, with a man I trusted and used to sleep with.”

  “Hello and welcome to Zanadoo.”

  Both of them spun their heads toward the sound. Lizzy grabbed her sneakers and prepared to dive under the desk as Duncan snuck a peak behind the curtain wall. He visibly relaxed as over his shoulder he said, “Its just Andy. He’s one of the designers for a new app.”

  She slipped on her shoes, reminded by the interruption of what they’d come here to do. “We should finish what we came for,” she said, knowing Duncan was tenacious enough not to let it go. “We can talk about this later.” Or not. He could very well talk her into something she wasn’t ready for.

  Duncan surprised her by nodding. “Right. Where were we?” He flipped open his laptop and sat.

  “Harris’s e-mails to your wife and maybe there being more to them than a bad break up.”

  He opened the icon on his desktop and punched in the code to give him access to Harris’s computer. Like the first time, the screen turned blue and everything on Harris’s desktop was now on Duncan’s.

  “I’m going to check the logs,” Duncan said, punching in a code she didn’t understand at the start up menu. The laptop went black, then filled with codes of numbers and letters.

  Lizzy squinted at the screen. “What’s dressme?” she asked, the only distinguishable word she could make out.

  “It’s the name of our new app and the file he accessed,” he said continuing to type.

  She positioned herself over his shoulder, trying to see or not see what he was looking for.

  “He came all the way over here on a Saturday evening to access a file. Why?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, clicking away, and from the way he pounded the keys, he wasn’t happy. Of course, that might have something to do with her.

  “Is that the new thing your wife knew about that she shouldn’t have?”

  He nodded. “New apps are kept top secret for a reason.”

  “Your competition?” She took a seat on his desk again, dangling her feet off the edge.

  “Right.”

  “Could he be selling the technology to your competition?”

  “Not likely. Patents have been issued already, and besides, these computers are protected. If the file isn’t encrypted, it can’t be copied without leaving a trace. What you see here”—he pointed to the screen—“are data logs. Every time files are accessed, they record. They log from which computer and whose password. Nothing is allowed to
leave this building, and even my remote access is limited. My security checks those logs on a daily basis.”

  “What’s this app about anyway?”

  “This one is aimed at women, any age. It catalogs your closet, so when you go into a store and find pants you like, it will tell whether you have anything in your closet to match. But the real genius behind it is the app can tell you where to find the shoes you’re looking for and can alert you if there’s a sale. Stores pay us to direct traffic to them.”

  “Wow, for a guy who claims not to know much about women…”

  “I started it as a tool to help out my fellow nerds, actually. It wasn’t until some of the women around the office saw it and suggested the additional features that it really took off. And marketing went after retail in a big way.”

  “You mean you knew you’d need someone to dress you after Victoria left.”

  “You got me. The alpha version was actually called Virtual Girlfriend. Marketing nixed that pretty fast. Seems they thought there could be some confusion with, ahem, other kinds of apps.”

  Duncan was sounding more relaxed, the emotion of their prior conversation temporarily forgotten. She wasn’t certain they could ever go back to the way things were. But at least some of the tension between them had gone, for now. “So, seriously, how is all this even possible?” And when would it launch? She had a turquoise skirt she hadn’t been able to find shoes for.

  “I had two separate teams brainstorming the idea and three working with department stores. It’s been a year in the making. When stores are ready to put out their inventory, they either upload the product or they can opt to supply a general link, like their shoe catalog, where the consumer has to scroll through. It would cost the supplier less but wouldn’t be as effective as showing the buyer the exact shoes she or he wants. This is online shopping at its best. Anywhere, anytime, no matter the city. We launch first in the US, then two weeks later everywhere else. Some of the smaller stores and stores who don’t offer online shopping have also come onboard, but those are specific to a city. So if you’re somewhere in Australia you won’t get the locations of the boutiques in say… Vegas.”

  “Okay, that’s all really cool, but what do you think Harris was doing and why wouldn’t he know you’d find out?”

  “He doesn’t know what I know. Remember, I didn’t tell him or the police what Victoria said. He could have come here to work on the file.”

  “For what, all of two minutes?” Considering what had happened while they’d been hiding under his desk, maybe two minutes was all he needed.

  “Right, but the security team may not think there is anything wrong with the chief finance officer accessing the computers on a Saturday for all of two minutes.”

  “So can that fancy system of yours tell you what he was doing?” If they could come up with an app to dress you, she wouldn’t be surprised if his computer system could wipe your bum.

  “Believe or not, yes. But maybe now would be the time to get the police involved. Whether Harris killed Victoria or not, I don’t want it said that I tampered with the evidence.”

  Lizzy agreed. It was a good thing if they’d found something to give to the police. They could shift their attention, perhaps toward the real person responsible for Victoria’s murder. Lizzy’s business adventure would be unscathed. But Duncan wouldn’t be. If Harris was guilty of wrongdoing, Duncan would yet again feel the betrayal of someone close to him. And on the heels of what they’d just done and what she’d said to him, Lizzy may very well have made it worse for him. This was why friends didn’t sleep with friends.

  Chapter Six

  Duncan was relieved Lizzy had agreed with him. If Harris had tampered with the file, then better the police discovered it. At the very least, he had e-mails proving his former friend and wife had been having an affair. He opted for complete disclosure, telling the police everything Victoria had said and why he hadn’t told them before. Lieutenant Horace Cooper stood behind his desk, understandably giving him and Lizzy the stink eye.

  “This is a police investigation, Mr. Moore. Did it dawn on you, the both of you,” he said, making sure to give Lizzy a poignant glare, “that withholding information could be a detriment to figuring out who killed your wife?”

  “It had been a long evening, lieutenant.” And now they were enduring another one. “I admit I made a mistake, but you were accusing me of killing my wife. Would you be so eager to admit she was trying to extort money out of you?”

  “If I wanted her killer caught, yes, I would.”

  “I do, and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Duncan. The police make mistakes all the time,” Lizzy said, patting his back. It was the first she touched him since they’d made love. Pathetically, he welcomed anything he could get from her. They weren’t talking and when they left here they’d be going back to his place to finish their earlier conversation.

  “Lizzy,” the lieutenant warned.

  “Hey. You want to talk about a serial killer and Maggie?”

  No,” he said, “I don’t. And while we can make mistakes, we can’t look at all the evidence if someone is holding out on us, can we?”

  “Fair enough,” she said, having made her point and wisely knowing when to quit.

  The lieutenant shook his head. “I swear every female that knows Maggie has a smart mouth.”

  “She trains us well,” she agreed, with a far too perky nod that had Duncan biting his lower lip to refrain from laughing or further antagonizing Cooper.

  “Too well,” Cooper grumbled and turned his attention to Duncan. “Mr. Moore, I was going to call you tomorrow morning. We found what we believe is your wife’s murder weapon.”

  “I thought she was drowned.” He glanced at Lizzy, who was as confused as he.

  “Yes and no. She was struck on the back of the head with a bottle, then was either pushed or fell into the pool. Intent is up to the district attorney to decide. The blow didn’t kill her, but add that to the alcohol she’d consumed and she didn’t stand a chance at getting out of that pool alive.”

  “So someone was trying to frame me?”

  “Or they were trying to make it look like she hit her head on something and then fell in?” Lizzy asked.

  “That’s what we think.”

  “So we’re dealing with a moron,” Lizzy said, less like a question and more like at statement.

  The lieutenant didn’t look impressed.

  “No, seriously,” she continued. “Harris Turner might be a huge prick, but he’s not stupid. Forensics would come up with her time of death and how she died.”

  “Right. Which means someone wasn’t thinking clearly. We’re putting her time of death at 2:30. Around the time you two were clearing up. I know I asked this before, but maybe you’ve had time to reflect. Did anyone, anyone, appear nervous or agitated? Either throughout the night or when it was winding down? Maybe looking at their watch repeatedly?”

  “I’m sorry, lieutenant, I’m not a fan of these large events. I mingle when I have to, but I try and keep myself as busy as I can. I hosted the midnight auction, then by the time I was done with the winners, I was helping Lizzy tear down. The rest of my staff might be of more use to you. Everyone was given a specific task and they’d have had more time to socialize.”

  “Same here,” Lizzy said. “We started the buffet at midnight. I was focused on getting the food out and served.”

  “Mr. Moore, do you always help your caterer clean up?” Cooper asked.

  He did if it meant spending time with Lizzy. “Like I said, parties aren’t my thing. I prefer charity events where I can keep busy instead of standing around and complaining about the price of caviar.”

  Lizzy snorted. “If you read the bills I gave you, you’d know the price.”

  “Got it.” A tall, overly thin detective entered the office, a file in his hand. He handed it to Cooper. “Take a look at page two.”

  The phone rang as he opened the file. “Cooper.” There was
a long pause as he listened and then said, “I see. Thanks, I owe you, and give Maggie a kiss for me.”

  Either he was talking to Maggie’s parents, which didn’t seem likely, or her new husband, Christian Beck.

  He hung up. “Apologize profusely to Judge Pierce for the hour, but call him again. I really need that warrant. Then find Harris Turner and bring him in. We need to ask him a few questions,” he told the detective, who, with a wide grin, left.

  Lizzy and Duncan exchanged glances. What had the police found? What had Mr. Beck said to Cooper? Duncan didn’t know a lot about the man but had heard he worked for a very sharp detective agency.

  “Do you know where your financial chief banks?”

  “Accounting would know where to deposit his paycheck. I don’t personally know. Why?” He was certain he wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “A source close to the department was able to acquire…information that I’m going to need that warrant for. If my source is correct, then your wife was also correct. Harris Turner is disloyal in more ways than one. This is what he accessed.” He turned the folder around so Duncan could see what the police had discovered.

  “What are we looking at?” Lizzy asked, also reading the file.

  “It’s a list of our foreign merchants who signed on for the new app and the links to their contracts. Australia, Germany, and Canada.”

  Cooper nodded. “According to my source—”

  “Christian Beck?” he asked, knowing full well that’s who his source was.

  “My source says,” the lieutenant continued, “that your friend Harris has an offshore bank account. In the last month, he received funds from… Can you guess?”

  Duncan didn’t like where this was going. “Australia, Germany, and Canada?”

  He pointed a finger at him. “You win the kewpie doll.”

  “I don’t get it,” Lizzy said. “What exactly is he doing?”

  Cooper leaned back in his chair. “My guess is he’s skimming, hoping like hell no one figures it out.”

  “He’s in charge of receiving the funds. Everyone reports to him, not the other way around. But between contracts and finance, someone else has to be involved.”