Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(77)

“Well, Noah James,” she said to the sky. “You’re pretty damn good.”

“I have the power of the federal government behind me. I pulled a few strings.”

“Very impressive.”

He pulled her into her arms and pressed a careful kiss to her red lips. “Happy New Year, Elise.”

“Happy New Year, Noah.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

THEY MANAGED TO MAKE their nine-o’clock meeting, but only because the meeting was moved to a less formal location: Elise’s bed.

She sat cross-legged in her underwear, winding the hem of her T-shirt around a finger. “It’s 280 thousand dollars, Noah. It doesn’t matter. Why can’t you just let it go?”

He shrugged his broad, na**d shoulders and went back to typing on his laptop. Whatever her frustration with him, the man was a gorgeous specimen of male flesh. Neither bulging with muscles nor wiry and lean. He was just…solid. And every small movement showed a shadow or curve of strength in his chest or arm or thigh. Her mouth rose in a half smile at the small peek of crisp hair and tan skin revealed between the top of the rumpled sheet and the leg of his white boxer briefs.

She wanted to toss that laptop away and throw herself into his arms. But Noah was frowning at the computer screen, his dark eyebrows drawn together in a crumpled line. He was grumpy when he was working.

Elise sighed and flipped onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “Tell me again.”

“There’s money trickling out somewhere. There are discrepancies in the bank’s internal accounts. Small adjustments made here and there…the tiniest percentages. But I can’t find how the money is getting out. Even Tex can’t detect the outflow. Where is it going?”

“Over what time period?” she pressed.

Noah grunted. “Years. A dozen years.”

“Two-hundred eighty thousand over a dozen years? You’re kidding me, right? That’s twenty thousand a year.”

“Twenty-three thousand.”

“That wouldn’t even allow John Castle to support a mistress. Or not a very high-end one, at any rate.”

“You gave me until Monday.”

“And we’re here, aren’t we?”

He glanced at her over the top of his laptop, his eyes crinkling in a brief smile. “We definitely are.” Then he went back to his numbers.

Her gut burned faintly with anxiety and she pressed her hand to it to try to rub it away. “I just…”

Ten seconds passed. He didn’t seem to notice that she’d spoken, and Elise was relieved. But her relief snapped away when she glanced over to find him watching her again.

“What?” he asked.

She rubbed her face. “I don’t know. I just…I don’t want them to be bad people.”

“The Castles?”

“Yes.”

“You like the old lady that much?”

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her eyes too hard and saw stars. “This job has been so straightforward. It’s working out. I feel like we did something good.”

“We’re never the bad guys, Elise.”

“I know that! But, God, I get tired of feeling like we are. The Castles made mistakes. They screwed up. They lost their life’s work. They almost lost people’s jobs and savings. But I don’t think they’re criminals, because I just don’t want them to be.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a hard year. I’m glad it’s over.”

His hand touched her knee and squeezed. “I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry.”

Her throat tightened, but she swallowed the tears. The year had been bad, and her dad’s death had been a big part of that. Still, even though she missed him every single day, she would be okay. She reached for Noah’s hand and took the comfort he offered. “Thank you.”

“And maybe you’re right,” he said softly. “There’s no proof they’re criminals. If I can just find the damn money, maybe we’ll discover a happier truth. Now where the hell did the money go?”

“Maybe it never left,” she said flippantly. “Did you check all the desks?”

“I’ll make Tex do that tomorrow morning.” His hand tightened around hers. “I’ll wrap it up as quickly as I can, and I’ll try for a happy ending, but no promises.”

No promises. Did he mean…? “I understand,” she said. “Sure. It’s no big deal.”

“Elise.” He shoved the laptop to the side and leaned toward her. “I wasn’t talking about us.”

“Maybe not, but how else are we supposed to leave this? We live two thousand miles apart. We’ve been on, what? One date?”

“Seriously? One date? We’ve had sex four times in a week.”

“Well, most of that was in the past twelve hours.”

“You’re damn right. That alone is a good reason not to let you throw this away.”

She sat up. “I’m not trying to throw it away!”

“You’d damn well better not be!”

Fear and love and panic suddenly welled from her chest like a wound. “How are we supposed to date?” she said softly, worried that her heart was breaking right in that moment. “How?”