Her Secret Alibi

Now there was a lethal question. He couldn’t possibly know that he’d just tossed out the one query she felt suddenly unable to answer. Who was she? Had she really taken a trip she didn’t remember? Stolen money from her own bank? The panic reared its ugly head once more. She swallowed tightly, then forced down a gulp of wine. She prayed he didn’t notice the way her hand shook.

“I’m afraid you’d be rather bored with the subject,” she answered. She hated that her voice sounded so thin…so nervous. Where was the strength she knew herself capable of? Where was the real Jolie?

Maybe she was losing more than merely her grip on reality. Maybe she was losing herself.

LATER SIMON INSISTED on walking Jolie to her car. The stars twinkled even brighter now, and the crescent moon looked like a lopsided grin high in the dark Atlanta sky. She smiled, feeling much, much better. Maybe it was the company. She stole a glance at the man beside her.

In profile, Simon Ruhl looked dark and mysterious and utterly gorgeous. Jolie felt giddy with excitement—something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He was charming and intelligent. Every touch, every look made her feel warm and tingly inside. It was foolish, she knew. But she couldn’t help herself. She felt like a college coed again, out on a date with the most popular hunk on campus.

“This one’s mine,” she said as they neared her Lexus. She stopped when she reached her door, and turned to her dark savior. He really had saved her tonight. Just then his right hand came up to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek, and her breath stalled in her lungs. He was beautiful. Perfect, she amended, like an angel straight from heaven, except he was dark and alluring in a sinful kind of way.

She shivered. The wine, she told herself. It had to be the wine making her so giddy, though she’d consumed scarcely more than a glass. She hadn’t reacted to a man like this since… Who was she kidding? To her knowledge, she had never behaved so irrationally.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said softly, “for dinner and for taking my mind off…things.” She looked up into those dark, dark eyes and forgot anything else she would have said.

“Thank you, Jolie Randolph,” he said just as softly. “For a truly memorable evening.” His smile turned teasing, his words reminding her of her earlier comment about any previous meeting between them having been unmemorable.

Blushing at the faux pas, Jolie stared at her hands as she unconsciously wrung them. How could she have said something so totally lame to this charming and completely gorgeous guy?

As she looked up again Simon moved closer, effectively trapping her between his body and the car. Instead of the warmth he had inspired all evening, unease stole over Jolie. The realization that it was dark and she was alone with a man she had met only hours ago hit her hard. This morning’s panic gripped her all over again. What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she seen this moment coming? Fresh panic slid down her spine and she flattened herself against the cool metal surface of the car. She had behaved this irrationally before. Last night.

Simon’s gaze latched on to hers, and she knew the instant he recognized her fear.

He stepped back. “I apologize,” he murmured. “It wasn’t my intent to crowd you.”

“I…I should go.” Her heart racing, she reached into her purse for her keys. Her relief was almost palpable when she found them on the first try. She nearly dropped the jangling ring, and Simon took them before she did just that, unlocked and opened her car door.

“Good night, Simon,” she said, as politely as she could manage when he held the keys out for her. She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her jerky movements. She wasn’t losing her mind; she had already lost it. Simon probably thought she was…

She didn’t even want to think about that. This was why she’d never had a decent relationship. She couldn’t trust herself, so how could she trust anyone else? It seemed ludicrous that she’d only this moment realized that sad fact.

“Wait,” he murmured.

Jolie froze. Slowly she faced him once more, the car door between them like a shield. “Yes?” She tensed when he reached toward her, but something in his eyes kept her from drawing away.

He touched her gently, protectively, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She could only stare into those intense pools of darkest brown. His thumb slid over her lower lip, sending a rush of desire straight through her. She trembled. As she watched, he slowly, so very slowly, lowered his face to hers. Jolie’s heart thumped hard. She should run, she knew, but she simply could not. He bypassed her lips and kissed her cheek, lingered there a moment longer than necessary.

“Be safe, Jolie,” he whispered against her skin.

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away.

And she still knew nothing at all about Simon Ruhl.

SIMON SAT IN THE concealing darkness of his SUV and watched as Jolie hurried up the walk leading to her apartment building. A few minutes later the lights came on in her living room, then the bedroom. The blinds closed and Simon shifted his gaze to the street in front of him. She was safe at home…

This time.

He closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the steering wheel and fought the urge to go up and stand guard at her door. Clenching his jaw, he tried without success to banish the images that haunted him. The way she smiled, so innocent and trusting. Her blond hair falling around her shoulders, feathery wisps caressing her face. And those eyes—wide, luminous green with tiny flecks of gold. She looked so fragile and sweetly feminine.

He wanted to keep her safe. That wasn’t part of his job. He would not let anything get in his way this time. Brasco was going down one way or another.

Simon opened his eyes and stared up at the now dark windows. He had to remember that Jolie Randolph was a suspect. No matter how he reacted to her physically, and despite his instincts to the contrary, he had to remember that Jolie was most likely up to her pretty neck in serious trouble. Laundering money for the mob was no petty crime. And if she was involved with Brasco, she deserved whatever she got. Simon shook his head at the degree of stupidity he had shown tonight. He had bent his own first rule by kissing the woman. Brief though it might have been, a kiss was a kiss. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he hadn’t been affected, if he hadn’t wanted to pull her into his arms and make it real…but he had.

Still wanted to. Simon swallowed back the need welling inside him. He swore hotly at his inability to maintain control. He could deal with the fact that Jolie Randolph was beautiful. He could even deal with the slender curves of her toned body. But what he couldn’t turn away from was the sweetness, the innocence she radiated. She needed protecting, and the damned woman didn’t even know it. Whether she was guilty or not, which she probably was, Jolie was on the edge of a deadly precipice. Men like Raymond Brasco played for keeps. Big Ray or any one of his men wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone like Jolie if she got in his way or failed to live up to his expectations. Simon knew that firsthand. The input he’d received from his old colleague at the local Bureau office backed up his every conclusion.

Raymond Brasco hadn’t changed.

Jolie Randolph was in over her head.

And Simon wanted to protect her more than he wanted to take his next breath, and that didn’t sit well with him. He had a job to do. This time it was personal. He had been watching Jolie and another of the bank’s employees, Mark Boyer, for two weeks now. He likely knew more about them than they knew about themselves, particularly Jolie. Simon’s former life in the Federal Bureau of Investigation had taught him every trick in the book when it came to profiling a suspect.

Unfortunately, the time he had spent watching Jolie had somehow evolved into something deeper for him. And that was dangerous, for her and for him. Not to mention it had never happened to him before. Not once. But her circumstances were different. There were things she apparently didn’t know. Things that could tear her whole world apart.

Tomorrow his cover at the bank would be put in place, facilitating the investigation requested by the bank’s board of directors. By hiring the Colby Agency to look into the situation, they hoped to head off a full-fledged federal investigation and possible scandal in the media. With major corporations making the headlines every day, the board wanted action fast.

Monitoring Jolie’s and Mark Boyer’s activities at work would be much easier from the inside. The contact he’d had with Jolie so far would keep her off balance. Simon needed her unsure of herself. Boyer was slick, and tripping him up wouldn’t be easy. But Jolie was vulnerable. Simon had no choice but to work this investigation from the most accessible angle. He had to turn up the heat and intensify the pressure until she snapped. Time was of the essence. The feds wouldn’t be put off much longer. They wanted answers.

The memory of the way Jolie had looked at him in the bank today when she’d hesitated at the top of the stairs, as if she had remembered something or recognized him, seeped into his thoughts. Simon’s response was immediate and savage. That connection had been real, at least on some level. He had felt it too strongly to believe otherwise. And tonight, there had been something…some sort of mental as well as physical connection.

If he couldn’t maintain his objectivity where Jolie was concerned, Simon would have to reconsider his strategy. Maybe even turn over her after-hours surveillance to another investigator at the Colby Agency. Simon had already taken a risk by not telling Victoria that this case hit far too close to home, was personal to him on more than one level. She wouldn’t like it if she discovered his omission. He would simply have to deal with her disappointment and irritation when the time came. All that mattered to him at the moment was bringing down Brasco. If Simon had to call in backup to prevent getting in too deep with Jolie, then he would. That would keep him on track and out of trouble.

But he had a feeling that no force on earth could keep him from wanting Jolie.

Chapter Three

By early afternoon on Tuesday Jolie breathed her first real sigh of relief. She had corrected each account discrepancy, and then carefully covered the original erroneous transaction with a side note alluding to an investment maneuver. Though she hated the dirty way it made her feel, at least no one would ever have to know that the money had been missing. Jolie refused to consider that her actions were much like those of someone in denial.

Just like her mother.

Not today, she told herself firmly. Today she wasn’t going to think about that.

Jolie shuffled through her messages, prioritizing them as she went. Most of her regular work had gone by the wayside this morning. Now she would spend the afternoon playing catch-up. Simon’s handsome face suddenly filled her mind’s eye. Heat flared inside her at the memory of his gentle touch. He had listened with such complete understanding as she’d rambled on and on about how screwed up life could get sometimes. Though she hadn’t actually told him anything that had happened, she’d talked all around it, and he’d listened. She had felt so much better by the end of the night that Jolie was certain Mr. Ruhl must be a psychologist or counselor of some sort. She’d completely forgotten to pursue the issue of why he’d been at her bank talking to the president. She supposed he was just another customer.

She smiled. A very nice customer.

And definitely the best looking man she had ever seen. Remembering the sweet way he had kissed her cheek sent a shimmer of desire through her. Now that kiss was one for the record books. He had given of himself and his time all evening, and expected nothing in return. Just a simple peck on the cheek. Heat swirled beneath Jolie’s belly button. Well, perhaps that wasn’t quite an accurate description of Simon’s brief kiss. There had been a definite fire kindling between them, but he had held back because she was uncertain, and she felt truly grateful. If Simon had taken advantage of her, she would have fallen apart. Vulnerable was apparently her new watchword.

She still hadn’t been able to reach Erica to ask about the missing hours Sunday night. Jolie forced away the knot of emotions that accompanied the memory of waking up in a strange bed. She would not think about that until she could question Erica and more accurately analyze what had taken place that evening. Besides, she rationalized, she’d had her hands full this morning with straightening out her accounts. There was nothing she could do about her strange behavior Sunday night. It was done. She just had to make sure it never happened again. The fact that she had dined with another stranger last night, had even allowed him to walk her to her car, disturbed her, but not nearly as much as it should.

Why did her life feel suddenly so out of control?

“Knock, knock, madam vice president.”

Jolie looked up to find Mark Boyer loitering in her doorway. She could have done without a visit from him today. But he was here, and to tell him to jump out the nearest window, as she would have liked to do, would be rude and unprofessional.

“Good afternoon, Mark,” Jolie said in her most chipper tone. “What can I do for you today?”

Mark plopped into a chair facing Jolie’s desk. “Actually, I wanted to do something for you,” he suggested in that patronizing voice that made her want to cringe.

Jolie folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. This should be interesting, she decided. “And what would that be?” Mark Boyer never did anything unless it would somehow prove to be to his own personal benefit.

He pulled a concerned face. “I’m worried about you, Jolie,” he said with what appeared to be complete sincerity. She knew better. “You don’t look well. I think you need a break. Take a few days off. I’ll cover for you.”

Anger flared so fast that she barely kept herself from lashing out at him. Calm, Jolie, she chastised herself. This is business. You can’t go biting off the heads of co-workers. Mr. Knox wouldn’t like it.

“Thank you for your concern, Mark,” she said evenly, then smiled weakly. “But I’m fine.”

He splayed his hands. “Don’t try to fool me, Jolie. I’ve known you too long. You’re not fine.” He shook his head and made a negative sound in the back of his throat. “Not by a long shot.” He smiled suddenly, as if some realization had dawned. “Why don’t you take a little vacation?” His tawny brows formed a perfect V above his calculating eyes. “Didn’t you spend a couple of days in the Caymans two or three months ago?”

Jolie’s heart almost stopped. A chill sank clear through to her bones. She blinked rapidly to mask the fear in her eyes. “I said I’m fine, Mark,” she repeated firmly. “I don’t need a vacation.”

He looked taken aback. “Well, you don’t have to get testy about it, Jolie. It was merely a suggestion.”

She stared at him coolly. “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Now—” she turned to the reports scattered on her desk “—if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” She glanced up once more. “And I’m expecting a client,” she added by way of dismissal.

He stood, then shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he remarked casually. “Burnout happens all the time in high-pressure positions. Just ask your father.”

Seething at his comment, Jolie didn’t bother to respond, but shot a cross look in his direction. Her father hadn’t burned out, he’d simply chosen to retire early. Even a decade after her mother’s death they had both struggled with the memory and heartache. How could Mark throw that painful past in her face?

It was hard to believe that she had once considered him a nice guy. They had worked together for two years. Together they had made quite a name for themselves in the investment department. The “golden ones,” that’s what they had been called. She and Mark had made a great team. Both were young, with him only a couple of years older than herself, and equally ambitious. Both had blond hair; she supposed that was where the golden part came in. And though she and Mark had never been friends in the true sense of the word, they had maintained a good working relationship.

But Jolie’s promotion had changed all that. Everyone had expected him to get it instead. He was a man, after all, and he did have a few months seniority on her.

But she had gotten the promotion.

And he hadn’t forgiven her yet. Had even made remarks behind her back that it was only because her father had once been president and the board had respected his reputation.

When Jolie’s anger receded all that was left was panic. He had said she’d taken a trip to the Caymans. That couldn’t be. She hadn’t gone anywhere this year. Fear crept into her racing heart. But why would he say it if it weren’t true? What did he have to gain by lying? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t verify whether she had taken a trip or not.

She just didn’t remember taking one.

Her mother had disappeared for days at a time that last year of her life. She would return with no memory of where she had been or what she had done. Jolie’s lower lip trembled with the emotion swelling inside her. And then, finally, when her mother could bear it no longer, she had ended her misery.

That wouldn’t happen to Jolie. There had to be another explanation.

“Jolie, I’m glad you’re in,” Mr. Knox announced from her door.

Jolie snapped to attention, automatically standing to greet the bank’s president. She manufactured a smile. “Good afternoon, sir.” She racked her brain to recall if they had an appointment. Surely Renae would have reminded her. Jolie felt weak with worry. Maybe Renae had reminded her and she had forgotten the meeting, anyway.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything that can’t wait,” Mr. Knox said as he gestured for someone to enter ahead of him.

Jolie waited expectantly for the mystery guest to step around Mr. Knox and into her office, but when he did she wasn’t prepared.

Simon Ruhl.

“Hello, Miss Randolph,” he said in that low, velvety voice as he approached her desk and thrust one square hand in her direction.

Confusion reigned supreme. Jolie stood there, stunned, for one long, awkward moment.

“Miss Randolph, this is Simon Ruhl,” Mr. Knox explained. “The bank has contracted his firm to conduct an informal audit just to make sure we’re ready for the real thing next month.”

“Hello,” she managed to murmur. She placed her hand in his, and those long fingers curled around hers, sending heat straight to her center. He held on a beat longer than was proper. Jolie could feel the strength radiating from him, a strength obviously tempered in his gentle touch. Those dark eyes held her in a sort of sensual trance. She shoved the foolish reaction aside.

“Simon has assured me that we won’t even know he’s here.” Mr. Knox chuckled. “That may be a bit optimistic, but I’m sure he’ll manage without getting in anyone’s way.”

Simon’s reassuring smile was pure charm. “Trust me, Mr. Knox, First International’s board of directors would never have hired me had they not had complete faith in my ability to conduct this audit with little or no disruption in the bank’s status quo.”

Mr. Knox crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Of course,” he agreed. “I certainly want to facilitate your effort to that end, so I’ve decided to have Miss Randolph be the liaison between you and the bank’s staff.”

Jolie felt the color drain from her face. She couldn’t do this. This man knew too much about her already. Though she had revealed nothing earth-shattering, she had allowed herself to be far too open with him. He read her too easily. He made her feel things she shouldn’t feel. How could they start over with that kiss between them?

Jolie turned to Mr. Knox, praying that she could change his mind. “To be honest, Mr. Knox, I believe Mark would be a much better liaison,” she said, as calmly as possible with her heart racing for some unseen finish line.

Mr. Knox seemed to consider her suggestion for a moment. Jolie didn’t dare look at Simon. If she looked, she would only get trapped in that rich coffee-colored gaze again.

The bank president tapped his cheek thoughtfully. “Mark would be a wise choice, as well,” he said noncommittally. He looked from Jolie to Simon.

“Actually,” Simon said, drawing Jolie’s reluctant attention back to him, “I’ve heard so much about Miss Randolph’s stellar reputation, I was really hoping to have a chance to work with her.” Something remotely akin to amusement flickered in his challenging gaze.

“The board is very proud of Miss Randolph,” Mr. Knox interjected quickly. “But you’ll find her a tad shy of the limelight.”

Simon’s smile was triumphant. “I’m sure we’ll work quite well together.”

Mr. Knox clapped him on the back. “Excellent. Well…” he turned to Jolie “…I’ll leave Simon in your capable hands, Miss Randolph.”

Jolie nodded, unable to marshal a verbal response. She waited until Mr. Knox had closed her door behind him before she turned back to Simon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, irritation overriding all else at the moment.

In a blatant act of intimidation, Simon allowed his gaze to roam down her body, then slowly back up to her face. Her fists clenched at her sides. Every nerve ending stood at attention—whether from anger or awareness, Jolie couldn’t quite determine. Simon slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers and studied her until he had satisfied whatever motivated his arrogant behavior. This was a side she hadn’t seen last night. Maybe this man wasn’t all she’d thought he was.

“The decision wasn’t made until this morning,” he said quietly. “There was no reason to tell you last night. Last night,” he added, “was pleasure. This is business.”

“You should have told me anyway,” she said in a scathing tone, as upset with herself as she was with him. “You knew who I was. You took advantage of the situation.”

With slow, deliberate steps, Simon walked around her desk to stand directly in front of her. Too close. Her breath caught when he leaned even closer, but for the life of her she couldn’t move away.

“No,” he murmured, so near to her that she felt his warm breath on her lips. “I didn’t take advantage of the situation.” He looked at her lips as if he might just kiss her right then, right there. “I could have.” His gaze connected with hers once more, heat and challenge smoldering there. And something else—a knowing that made her nervous…restless. “But I didn’t.”

Jolie stumbled back, stopped by her desk. “My assistant will…will show you around,” she stammered. Unable, or maybe unwilling, to take her eyes off him, she fumbled across her desk until she found the right button and pressed it. “She’ll introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Renae’s voice resonated from the intercom.

If her life had depended upon it, Jolie couldn’t have said what exactly it was at that moment that held her speechless. Something about the way Simon looked at her made her want to eagerly submit to his wishes. But she couldn’t…wouldn’t. Her survival, personal as well as professional, depended on it. The silence stretched on, screaming between them for endless seconds.

“All right,” he finally said, the words somehow releasing her from that surreal hold.

“Renae, would you step down to my office, please,” Jolie instructed in a breathless tone that made her want to kick something.

Simon’s gaze held hers captive a moment longer before he turned and walked back around to the front of her desk to wait for her assistant. Relieved to have some space between them, Jolie attempted to focus on the matter at hand.

“How long will you be with us, Mr. Ruhl?” she asked with as much authority as she could dredge up.

He shrugged one broad shoulder. “That depends on you, Jolie.”