Under the Boardwalk Read online

  To his credit, Quinn remained silent on the ride to his house. They were headed toward the beach. More than once, he looked into the rearview mirror longer than usual, and took what seemed to be an out-of-the-way route to the ocean.

  Although she had a lot on her mind, she sensed he was preoccupied, too. He glanced in the mirror again and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her head pounded as she broke the quiet in the truck. “What’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think something’s up?” He squeezed her hand in reassurance.

  “You’re antsy. You keep checking the mirrors. And though I don’t know where your house is, I’m certain we’ve circled around a few times.”

  “You’re quick, Ari.” He grinned, shaking his head. “I’m just being careful, that’s all.”

  “About Damon?” Chills walked all over her skin.

  He nodded. “He knows I have this house, so it’s not going to be a problem if he is having me watched, but I’d rather know about it going in.” He rolled his shoulders in a definite release of tension.

  “Understandable.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I don’t know how you live like this.”

  He turned his head to the side, glancing at her. “It’s getting harder,” he admitted. “But it’s almost over. Now, what’s going on in your beautiful head? You’ve been completely overwhelmed since the whole foster-care talk back at your parents’.”

  Ariana couldn’t believe how perceptive the man was. “It’s my family. Or rather Sam and my family. My parents have to give up being pickpockets and cons,” she said, stating what had been preying on her mind.

  Quinn sighed, his understanding clear. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “The new business, the spa. It has to be legit.” She was revealing more than he knew about her relatives.

  He nodded. “I know. I’ll make sure I oversee it. Nicholas likes me,” he said, and when she turned her head his way, he shot her his most endearing grin.

  This time she squeezed his hand tighter. “I like you, too, Quinn.”

  “Then tell me what’s really bothering you. It’s not just concern for Sam. I can tell.”

  She shut her eyes tight as he pulled into a short driveway leading to a two-car indoor garage. “How about you give me the ten-cent tour first,” she suggested, stalling.

  “You got it, but then there’s no more hiding from the truth.”

  “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Low blow, Ari. And being angry at me won’t change the fact that you obviously have a hell of a lot to come to terms with. You might as well start somewhere.” He turned the key in the ignition, shut down the motor, and climbed out of the truck.

  She joined him at the foot of three wooden steps leading into the house.

  “You can park in here.” He gestured to the empty space beside his truck. “I have an extra garage remote in the kitchen drawer, if I can find the damn thing.” He unlocked the door and unset the alarm. “The code is 1213,” he told her.

  “Random choice?”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “My birthday. I remember my mother telling me she knew I’d be bad luck from the minute she went into labor on Friday the thirteenth.”

  Ariana winced and as they walked into the kitchen, she turned toward him. “Are you trying to convince me of what a spoiled brat I am because I have problems with my family?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my place to judge. The only measure anyone can use to judge life by is their own experience. Having a family doesn’t necessarily mean you found growing up to be easy.”

  Grabbing her hand, he led her to a cozy room with a cabinlike feel, and they sat on the couch.

  “So tell me, are you feeling like a spoiled brat?” he asked.

  “I’m feeling like childhood memories are overwhelming me.” She rubbed her eyes and leaned back, sighing. “What if Sam has the same problems I did living with my family?”

  “I’m not sure. You’ve never told me what those problems were.” He met her gaze, hoping that by now she knew she could confide in him. When she remained silent, he added, “I don’t have to come from the same background as you to understand.”

  She leaned forward. “Let me ask you something. Do you find my family a little… weird? Unusual? Strange?”

  He laughed. “Well, yes, but that’s what makes them special.”

  “Try growing up with that specialness. I’d bring friends home and never know what my mother would be wearing, what language she’d be attempting to learn, or what con my father would be concocting.”

  “Like the Indian princess act?” he said, trying not to laugh.

  “Or the Martian one.”

  He raised an eyebrow, dying of curiosity.

  Ari sighed. “When we were thirteen, Zoe and I fell asleep on the beach. Unfortunately we’d covered ourselves with baby oil and fried to a crisp. We were beet red for days. Mom couldn’t help but take advantage of the situation.”

  “How?” he asked, hoping to coax more information out of her.

  She rolled her eyes. “She dyed our hair green and snapped pictures of the Martian Invasion. Except by then the National Enquirer had caught on to her schemes. Add to that kind of insanity the fact that my mother was a showgirl, which for other kids was tantamount to a stripper. I was the laughingstock of the school.” She ran a hand through her hair. “And the guys? Oh, they just loved the lie detector,” she said. “Even they tended to steer clear, too.”

  Knowing it wasn’t the time to laugh, Quinn tried keeping things serious. “What about Zoe? Did she have problems with that kind of behavior?”

  She shook her head. “Zoe was different. Her sense of humor was as wicked as my mother’s, and she loved the limelight just like Mom did.” Her eyes glazed over as she remembered. “Maybe Zoe wasn’t different, maybe it was me. Zoe wanted to be just like Mom. She dressed in tight clothes and flouted any convention. It didn’t matter to her what the other kids thought, because she obviously had a stronger independent streak.” She clenched and unclenched her fists as she spoke. “And don’t think I don’t realize how ungrateful and awful this sounds, but-”

  He placed a finger over her moving lips, trying like hell to ignore the erotic sensations that just touching her inspired. “I’m a cop. I was also a kid once. I know how cruel other kids can be, and you don’t need to make excuses about your feelings. They’re yours and you are entitled to them. But I don’t think you need to worry about Sam. She’d be happy to play along and tell the other kids where to go if they dared to make fun of her.”

  “That’s probably true. In psych lingo, I’m probably just transferring my fears and insecurities onto Sam. In my family, normal didn’t fit in. I didn’t fit in.” She shrugged. “But Sam already has been through the hell of being different. If someone makes fun of her, she can handle herself a lot better than I ever did.”

  He laid one hand across the back of the couch and turned, slanting his head toward her. “Now that’s the truth. I really wouldn’t worry. Sam wants to be there and she already knows exactly what your family’s like. They adore her and she already loves them. If it works out, it’s a perfect solution.”

  Leaving me as the misfit once again, Ariana thought.

  “Now tell me about the stuffed-shirt boyfriend your family mentioned.”

  She laughed, grateful he’d changed the subject to something that wasn’t quite as painful. Not anymore. She didn’t like her cousins giving her a hard time over Jeffrey, but she was fine with sharing that part of her past with Quinn. “Like the family said, he was a pompous ass. But he was everything they weren’t.”

  “Conservative and normal?” he guessed.

  “Yeah. And I needed that at the time.” She stared out at the water, the turbulence there somehow familiar. “He was a break from the insanity at home, and I thought if he got to know me first, they wouldn’t seem so different, or at least he wouldn’t care.”

  He reached out and massaged her shou
lder. “What happened?”

  “My father asked him one of his infamous questions. He used to hit up any guy who walked into the house with one.”

  “What did he ask poor Jeffrey?” Quinn, not the least bit fazed, was laughing already.

  “He asked him if he had enough goods to satisfy his girl,” she said, shaking her head at the memory. “Jeffrey turned five shades of red and changed the subject, and my father told him he’d take that as a no.”

  Quinn burst out laughing. “I assume that didn’t go over well?”

  She sighed. “Jeffrey gave me an ultimatum. He told me to choose between my family and him because there was no way he’d have a life that had anything to do with those wackos.”

  Quinn visibly cringed.

  “In other words, if we got married and had kids, my parents wouldn’t be acknowledged as their grandparents. He was headed into corporate America, where his family was already established, and he said they’d all see my relatives as a liability.” She shrugged, but the memories were far from casual. Reliving them truly hurt more than she’d thought they would.

  Quinn’s eyebrows drew together, his expression one of outrage. “He’s a jackass,” he muttered.

  A smile pulled at her lips. “Yeah. He actually thought I should consider myself fortunate he was willing to continue to see me at all, considering my bloodlines.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “I take it you told him to go to hell?” Because as far as he was concerned, the man wasn’t fit to step into the Costas home, let alone have a worthy place in Ari’s life.

  And you are? a voice in Quinn’s head asked. He hadn’t struggled with that internal self-doubt in years, and fought against allowing his damn insecurities to resurface now. He wasn’t that unwanted kid in foster care anymore, and damned if he’d act like it.

  “Oh yes, I did,” Ari said, her eyes finally lighting up with the memory. “And then I packed my bags and left for Vermont. I transferred, finished up school there while working my way through, and then I got a job teaching at a local college.”

  “Never to darken your parents’ door again until now,” he finished for her with the ending Zoe had already told him. “Why?”

  She swallowed hard. “You don’t ask easy questions, do you? It must be your cop training.”

  He raised one eyebrow and waited.

  She rose and paced the hardwood floor in front of the sliding glass doors. “I was running away, is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “I want to hear the truth,” he told her. “Besides, sometimes running isn’t so bad as long as you face what you were running from eventually.”

  “Well, I had no allies at home. At least I didn’t feel like I did. Not even my twin. Zoe was just like my parents. She was always up for a good con, and I thought she was wasting her life. She thought I was an uptight prig and should loosen up, and I thought she ought to grow up and do something worthwhile.”

  She inhaled deeply and Quinn could feel her pain. But he had a hunch she’d never discussed this aloud, and the only way for her to deal was to face things. She’d need to come to terms with her past before she discovered how wrong she’d been about her sister. “So you two argued?” he asked.

  “Oh yes. And then I left. I just shouldn’t have stayed away.”

  Gratitude for her honesty overwhelmed him and he was glad he’d opened up to her first.

  “I’m sick of talking about myself,” she said.

  He grinned. “Then come here.” He held out a hand toward her. “And we can do something besides talk.”

  She started her walk across the room, determined and sultry in her steps, but not before turning to the glass doors once more.

  He stared at the beach, seeing his backyard from Ari’s perspective. Sliding glass doors overlooked the sand, and he realized how fortunate he was to have been able to purchase this place at auction. He also recognized how much he missed living here.

  “So this is your home,” Ari said, interrupting his thoughts. “I knew the hotel room didn’t reflect the real you.”

  “The real me?” Quinn asked. “Just who is that?” He wanted to know how she viewed him, what she saw when she looked at him, especially now that she knew he was a cop.

  She came up to him and settled close by his side, curling one leg beneath her. Finally a relaxed smile twitched at her lips. “You’re a bundle of contradictions, Quinn.”

  “Men like to be as mysterious as women,” he joked.

  “Well, you did a good job. And I kept asking myself, which is the real Quinn? Is it the guy who tackled me on the beach? Damon’s goon? Or Sam’s guardian angel?” Reaching out, she caressed his cheek, cupping his face in her hand. “And that sterile hotel room didn’t provide any answers. Now I know it’s because your so-called room wasn’t really yours.”

  He studied this woman who seemed to want to understand him as much as he wanted to get inside her head. “Nothing at the casino is real. It’s all part of the job, which reminds me.” Though he hated to break the bonding moment between them, work called to him. “We need to talk about how things are going to be once you go back to the casino.”

  “In what way?” she asked curiously.

  “We don’t want Damon suspicious of me, so you’re going to need to play your part. Continue to look for information on your sister, ask the right people the right questions, but do not get into serious trouble.”

  “Trouble? Me?” She shot him her most innocent look.

  He rolled his eyes, laughing. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. But if you need an example, no lock picking and no snooping around Damon’s office,” he ordered her.

  “I can handle that.” Despite their banter, her intent gaze indicated she understood how serious he was.

  And he wasn’t finished. “And when it comes to us, as far as the employees and Damon are concerned, you still need to cozy up to me, pretend to use me to find out what happened to Zoe.”

  She licked her lips and he knew something big was coming. “What did happen to my sister?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion.

  Finally. She had finally asked the question Quinn knew had to be brewing inside her.

  “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 wer
e 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.