Unmistaken Identity Read online

  A peculiar need rode him. Like one night might not be enough. Perhaps it was knowing she’d curse and despise him later, and he wanted to play as long as he could.

  He broke away to take her keys. After he settled a flushed Mara into the passenger seat, he jogged around to the driver’s side and moved the seat back so he could fold his frame inside.

  Mara’s hand was on her lips, like she couldn’t believe the wattage of that kiss. He’d admit, she would receive a gold star for kissing.

  “Was that the appetizer?” Her luminous eyes reflected the city lights.

  He ignored the tightening in his gut at her guileless expression. She was a con artist and he planned to con the con. She had targeted an old man with a bad heart, and maybe she’d slept with him, maybe she’d strung him along. It didn’t matter. Wes wasn’t worried about being compared to anyone, much less his father. They’d been nothing more than colleagues since Wes was a teenager. It’d been years since he’d felt like he even had a dad.

  Shoving those thoughts away, he shoved the car into drive. “Where we going?”

  Chapter Two

  She rattled off her address. He thought his father would’ve set her up in better accommodations. It was in an older part of town. Not dangerous, but quaint.

  Thinking of his dad with her, he put more pressure on the gas. It should be a turn-off, but she was so adorable. Is that how she’d done it? And how many other men had handed over money and property they’d worked hard for? His dad had literally worked himself to death.

  Wes would make sure she knew what it felt like, give her a taste of how a duplicitous relationship felt.

  “Whoa, Ensign.” She peered over her shoulder. “Ease up on the warp speed. Getting pulled over will only delay us and I want to see what you’ve got.”

  Her statement alone had him slowing down. A chuckle slipped out. “What did you just say?”

  Her grin was pure wickedness, her eyes flashing with mirth. “My store is a comic book and gaming shop, didn’t I mention that?”

  “F’real?” He feigned surprise. “So you’re all up on your Star Trek knowledge?”

  She tilted her head, her gaze speculative. “I’m not the only one.”

  His grin faded. “I’m a nineties kid. Of course I’ve watched the series.”

  “Oh, I see.” She folded her arms across her chest, a smile playing over her lips. “You go to a swanky club, dress sharp, so it’s not cool to display your inner fanboy?”

  Actually, that was really accurate. “Nailed it.”

  She leaned close and whispered into his ear, sending shivers straight to his painfully hard cock. “Once I’m done with you, you’ll be screaming for me to beam you up and begging me to wield your light saber.”

  His brows shot up and his foot twitched to stomp on the gas. “I’m going to test you on that.”

  “Oh, right here.” She pointed to a small house that wasn’t any larger than his walk-in closet.

  Like the other tiny, square houses on the block, hers had peeling, powder-blue Masonite siding. He’d call the dwelling and its yard tidy but not something she made a priority.

  “Ignore the seventies chic. I’m going to paint it next summer, if I have the time or money.” She climbed out of the car muttering, “I can’t seem to have both at the same time.”

  “You live here alone?” He didn’t know why he’d asked. She’d hardly keep someone under the same roof while playing his dad.

  “My mom moved out last year.” She trotted to the door, but her voice didn’t match the bounce in her step.

  Her tone seemed melancholy as she spoke of her mom, whereas his would have been resentful if he’d talked about his mother.

  She let him in with a promising smile. He’d have taken her against the door, but the decor stalled him as soon as he entered.

  Scanning the room, he didn’t know where to look first. Every time he spotted something of interest, another bauble caught his eye. “You have the whole Star Trek crew in action figures?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.” She laughed and shut the door. “I just got the remake’s crew. Can’t go wrong with the latest Captain Kirk.”

  His gaze swung to the end table stretching in front of a threadbare couch. On it was a line-up of familiar characters wearing black pants and a mix of red-and-gold shirts with combadges. “I haven’t seen the new movies.”

  The action figures coaxed unwanted memories to the surface. Sam’s broad smile as he brandished a two-foot replica of the Enterprise. Binge-watching whole seasons on the weekends. Making each other laugh by talking like Captain Kirk. He stuffed them back down. Figured Sam would turn his fanboy tendencies on a woman when he’d left Wes behind at warp speed after the divorce.

  “Seriously?” She stepped out of her shoes and the flash of leg was enough to tear his gaze off her toys. “I have old Spock, new Spock. Old Kirk, new Kirk. They picked excellent actors for the remake, in my opinion.”

  With her heels off, she was even shorter. Not quite petite, but a perfect size to lift and thrust into. As he examined her toys, his mind surprisingly turned away from sex.

  “Maybe I’ll watch them sometime.” With his dad gone, would he still have the same animosity toward films they’d used to enjoy together? Nothing Trek had graced his screens since the turn of the century.

  She closed the distance between them. “What about the new Star Wars? You had to have seen that? I think everyone in the world has.”

  Star Wars. He clenched his jaw but forced himself to relax. “I saw Episode I with my dad.” The next episode he’d seen by himself…because Sam had decided spending time with Wes was a waste of time. Said those very words after Wes had called, asking why he hadn’t shown. Getting sent to an out-of-state boarding school had almost been a relief.

  By Episode III, he’d given up on the things that’d bonded him with Sam and concentrated on college. It’s not like Wes hadn’t known who Anakin would turn out to be.

  Her hands skimmed up his shirt front and stopped at the top button. Wes’s mind embraced sex again. She pulled in her lower lip to chew. A nervous habit, or meant to be provocative? He’d never seen a girl do that, but then they usually had so much shellac on their lips it stained their teeth. It was hard enough scrubbing the stuff off his skin, and he’d heard the housekeeper’s curses about bleaching red tint out of his collars. Or waistbands.

  He waited for her to undo each button, then tugged on a ponytail, earning a flush from her. “I’m going to keep your skirt on when I fuck you.”

  Pupils dilated. She liked that idea, and how he said it.

  “I was expecting a crappy night.” She dragged his shirt out of his waistband, slipped each button free. “I thought I’d be so steaming angry that I’d turn into She-Hulk.”

  Her touch drove him into a single-minded spiral of need. The extra layer of deceit must be fueling his libido; had to be it, his response to her was off the charts.

  “I’m your consolation prize.” Mentally, he snickered. She’d wanted the strip mall, then she’d wanted to confront him, but she was going to strip naked for him instead.

  He dipped his head and licked the rim of her ear, delighting in her shiver. Good. He’d make sure he had the upper hand, that he didn’t lose his head as soon as she fisted his cock.

  Tipping her face back, her lips curled in a lazy smile. “Now show me what I’ve won.”

  They stood in the middle of her living room, with only a lamp in the corner on. He checked to make sure the front drapes were drawn. Not because he cared if anyone saw his bare ass pounding into her. Anyone seeing her body on display made him want to wrap her in a cape and fly her away.

  He wrapped his hands around her waist to draw her closer, needing her closer.

  A faint buzzing sound caught his attention. He frowned. Was that a phone?

  She groaned and pressed into him. “I’m going to ignore it. If it’s important, they’ll call back.”

  Capturing her lush
mouth, he proved to her he was grateful for her decision. The wine still flavored her lips, along with her unique, intoxicating taste and the promise of amazing sex. He bunched the hem of her skirt up. Maybe he’d take her fast and hard, relieve the pressure, then spend some time playing with her body.

  Her eager response only encouraged his plan.

  The vibrating continued. With a frustrated huff she pulled away.

  “Sorry.” Her cheeks were flushed and her nipples strained against her shirt. Better than any centerfold he’d ever seen.

  While she located her purse and dug around inside, he willed himself not to shove his hand into his pants. His shaft pressed against his waistband and he wanted so badly to find release inside Mara.

  She answered the phone and turned her back on him. “What? Yes, yes. Do that and I’ll meet her there.”

  She hung up and stood unmoving, her head hanging and her shoulders drooping. Genuine disappointment curled in his belly. She’d gotten bad news and the fun was over. When she spun toward him, she wore a false smile.

  “I…have to cut the night short.” She shrugged, sadness and worry etched in her features.

  He refused to acknowledge the tiny bit of worry for her creeping into him.

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  His dad’s name slapped him in the face and reminded him why he was in her place. “Is everything all right? Your store?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not the store worrying me tonight. Family emergency.” Pushing her bangs off her face, she looked around, then down at herself. “I’ve gotta change clothes. Oh, you need a ride back to the club.”

  He could offer to call an Uber, a.k.a. his driver, but he was reluctant to part ways so soon. He wasn’t done with her, on many levels. “Only if it’s on the way. Where are you going?”

  “Twin City Medical.”

  His brows shot up. A hospital. Normally, he didn’t care about his hookups’ personal lives, but Mara was different. He needed to know his target. Learn her weak areas. That was it. Not because he was curious about anything to do with her.

  “Go change.”

  With a grateful smile, she rushed to the back of the house. He buttoned up his shirt and grabbed her keys. Her phone lay where she’d left it and the lock screen wasn’t yet showing. Snatching it up and punching in his number, he called himself, then entered his contact info.

  Almost too late, he realized he’d typed Wes.

  “Sam. Fucking Sam,” he muttered as he corrected it and added Smith for a generic last name in case she tried looking him up.

  “Did you say something?” Mara trotted back down the hall

  His hand fell limp at his side, barely clasping her phone. She wore soft jeans that molded to all of her curves and a red “Bazinga” T-shirt. Her gaze fell on her phone in his hand and her brow furrowed.

  “I’ve got my contact info in here for when you want to claim your consolation prize.” He jingled her keys. “I’ll drive you to the hospital and call a ride from there.”

  A myriad of emotions ran across her face. Disbelief, regret, relief. “Of course, I want what’s mine.”

  She just missed the mark for playful flirtation and her body language spoke of urgency. He cocked his head in the direction of the car and she charged out the door.

  They were back on the road. He was hard and throbbing, but as Mara’s tension filled the air, his sex drive waned.

  “So what’s going on?” He glanced over at her staring out the window, fiddling her thumbs in a solo game of thumb war.

  She turned her worried gaze on him. “My mom. She has some medical problems and spiked a high fever. My guess is pneumonia again.”

  Again? He’d had pneumonia maybe once in his life. What did people say to news like that? His mom would cackle and list the reasons the recipient was deserving of their misfortune.

  “Hope she’s okay.”

  “Thanks. She usually gets better, but I always worry if this’ll be the time…” Her attention focused back out the passenger window.

  Was her mom the reason she’d marked his dad and targeted his money? Didn’t make it right, but— No. No softening.

  He let her drift off. Specific knowledge was what he was after and he wanted to get it himself. She’d already proven she could worm into someone’s life enough that they’d dedicate a portion of their fortune to her. No way would he trust another person getting close to her, if he could even get past telling a private investigator his personal business.

  He’d do this himself. Sam had as good as abandoned him after the divorce, but Wes couldn’t help but feel protective toward his father. Whatever Wes had done to drive Sam away, he could make up for it by figuring out why Mara would play with an old man’s emotions.

  ***

  Mara waved at Sam as he drove off.

  He’d showed her where he was going to park her car and he would lock her key inside; she had her fob. She’d offered to stay with him until his Uber arrived, but he’d told her to get to her mom.

  Her responsible side asked why she had trusted him with her keys. If he stole her car, she could grunt out the deductible and buy more reliable wheels. If Sam took it on a joyride and crashed it, well, that’d fit her night perfectly. She sighed and trudged down the corridor toward the emergency room. The nurse from the living center had reported that her mom’s breathing was growing more labored. From experience, they both knew nothing short of a hospital stay would help.

  Smiling at the girl manning the ER desk, she introduced herself and was shown back to her mom’s room.

  The quiet bustle of the emergency room always surprised Mara. TV shows made it look so chaotic, so…urgent. But nurses worked quietly at the counter that circled the middle of the ward, doctors studied charts at pods with screens and keyboards, and any employees and patients in the halls went straight for their destination with little commotion. Once in a while she’d hear a moan from a patient’s room, but even that was rare.

  Stillness and warmth encompassed her as she entered her mom’s room. The square, white, all-too-familiar room was like any other, except for the suites where patients were curtained off. Mara dreaded when Mom was put into one of those. Made it all seem more serious.

  In the time it’d taken Mara to get here, the ambulance had already delivered their patient and left. Her mom lay resting. Mara doubted she was asleep with a nasal cannula in and a blood pressure cuff strapped around her arm. An IV ran to her other arm.

  Mara pulled a chair closer and sat.

  “Hey,” her mom breathed. “Sorry to disrupt your night.”

  Mara gave her a reassuring smile. “Oh, you know my Friday nights are never exciting.”

  She didn’t allow her thoughts to settle on Sam and his sparkling blue eyes and broad shoulders. Her mom would sense Mara’s disappointment and she had more things to worry about, like getting better.

  A knock on the door interrupted them a moment before a guy, not much younger than Mara, entered. He had a ready smile and wore gun-metal gray scrubs.

  “I’m here to take Wendy Baranski for an X-ray.”

  Mara knew the routine. “That’s her. Do you need me with?”

  “No. Hold the room down for us and we’ll be right back.”

  Mara sat back while they rolled the entire cot to X-ray. The quiet had unnerved her when it had been just the two of them in the room, but alone, she couldn’t stand it. She numbly surfed through the crappy cable offered by the hospital and waited.

  The rest of the night went by with the familiar blur of doctors’ reports of pneumonia, treatment plans, admitting her for a hospital stay, and settling her in.

  Mara checked the time, deciding whether she should catch a few hours of sleep in an ungodly uncomfortable chair or head home for a few hours before work.

  “Oh my gosh, Mara.” Her mom’s eyes barely stayed open. She was going to sleep soon herself. “Go home and get some rest. I know how busy Saturdays are for you.”

  “I can always
call Chris to man the store.” If he was around. Her only full-time employee had a life, too. Maybe. Likely a movie to see, at least.

  “I’m just going to sleep all night and day. You know how this goes.”

  Yeah. She did. When her mom had been sick last week, she’d worried that it would result in this. “I’ll stop by after work, okay?”

  Her mom nodded, already drifting off. Mara leaned down and kissed her cheek, the burn of tears igniting behind her eyes. She neared the doorway and stopped to brush off her cheeks before entering the wide hallway, where nurses darted back and forth.

  God, this sucked. Nights like this reinforced her decision to put her mom in a nursing home, but it didn’t assuage the guilt any. Even though her mom had urged her to do it, claiming she didn’t want her daughter’s life to be burdened with caring for a parent’s basic needs.

  More tears rose. Mara often thought she should’ve soldiered on, but she’d seen how hard succumbing to severe multiple sclerosis was for her mom. Twenty-four-hour care was required and Mara couldn’t provide it. At least she’d secured the money to pay the bills for it.

  Chapter Three

  Wes tapped another golf ball across the green. The white, dimpled ball swirled around the hole and dropped in without hesitation.

  “Sick.” His friend Flynn thumped his club against the ground. “I think you come out and play instead of working all day.”

  Rapping his club against Flynn’s, he strode past him to let his friend have his turn.

  For Wes there was no play in the workday. A man didn’t keep his millions by jacking around instead of making money.

  Flynn was the same; it was why he teased Wes constantly. Equally focused on his own business, he respected Wes’s time and space but also kept Wes from getting lost in his own head.

  Wes dropped his club in the golf bag. Saturday rounds of golf with Flynn comprised much of Wes’s rare time away from work. Might as well get in a full day of play before the course closed for the season. The gray sky promised dropping temperatures as the afternoon grew later.