Ainsley pounded up the stairs loud enough for Tyrone to poke his head out of the bedroom. Her blood boiled. How dare he try and hit on her when she was trying to be professional? And what was worse, she almost gave into him. This was Remy, after all. He was gorgeous, charming, rich, successful. How could any woman in her right mind resist him? Except that she knew him too well. He went through women like Kleenex.
She went straight to her partners. “Y’all ready to skat?”
Eric yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m beat.”
“And I have to be at my mama’s house in the morning to cut her grass,” Tyrone added.
“Well, I’m awake and don’t have to do anything tomorrow other than go over the footage from tonight. Why don’t you two go, and I’ll pack up everything?”
“Yeah, Eric. I’ll bring the equipment by tomorrow.”
Eric stood and stretched. He whispered low enough that only she could hear him. “You ain’t fooling me. Have fun with our host.” In a louder voice, he added, “Alright, I’m heading home. You coming, Tyrone?”
“Right behind you.”
Ainsley knelt down and started pulling up the painter’s tape over the cords.
“Your partners tore out of here like the devil himself was chasing them. Did something happen?” Remy voice’s warmed her like a lover’s caress.
“I sent them home.”
“You have to take down all these cameras by yourself?”
“It’s easier to take down than set up.” She handed him a wad of tape. “Make yourself useful and throw this away.”
He stared at it and shook his head before he went downstairs. She wasn’t going to fall for his charms. He’d strung her along in the past. He would flirt, but nothing serious ever came of it. He probably just wanted to see her swoon to boost his ego. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Ainsley, come down here.”
She sighed and took her time going down to the kitchen. When she got there, her jaw dropped. Every cabinet and drawer hung open. Her gut tightened in anger. “Is this some kind of trick?”
“No, I swear to God, it was like this when I got down here.”
She crossed the room to the small video camera and pulled out the view screen. She couldn’t wait to catch him trying to fake a haunting.
The kitchen blurred on the screen, and she watched Remy enter the kitchen. The cabinets and drawers were already open. She frowned and hit rewind. Going further back, she reached a point where everything was closed; she hit play. “Come take a look.”
He peered over her shoulder at the screen. Dear God, he smelled good, like spice and leather mixed with something that was entirely male. But this was not the time to act like a lovesick teenager.
“Holy shit,” he said as they watched his kitchen disrupted by an unseen hand.
“I think we have evidence that you have something here.”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” She hit rewind and watched the film again. The doors and drawers flew open as if a gust of wind had blown through the kitchen. It happened much faster than any human could move. This was probably the best evidence she had gathered so far, something she could actually show people instead of telling them she “felt” something. “Awesome,” she said under her breath.
“What time did this happen?”
“The clock says about ten minutes ago.”
“When we were chatting in the front parlor?”
“Yeah, that would be about right.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin. “Interesting.”
“As fast as everything was moving, I wonder why we didn’t hear anything.”
“Maybe we were too distracted.” His fingers brushed against her arms again, and the purr in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I know something else was occupying my mind at the moment.”
His breath warmed the nape of her neck and paralyzed her. How close was he standing behind her? She needed to pull herself together before she dropped her equipment on the tile floor. “If you thought with your head instead of your dick, maybe you wouldn’t have been so distracted.”
“You didn’t hear the noise either.” His breath grazed her ear, and her panties grew damp. Damn him! “When did you get so prickly?” His lips pressed against her neck and blazed a trail up toward her ear. Heat pooled between her legs, and her knees threatened to give out from under her. “Maybe you should learn to relax.”
Relax would not be the right word for it. The camera wobbled in her hands.
“Careful,” he murmured as he grabbed it. “Who’s distracted now?”
A loud crash came from the parlor and pulled her away from his seduction.
“Jesus Christ.” He ran out of the kitchen.
She pressed record and followed him. The lamp from the sofa table lay on the ground, with the remaining shards of the light bulb sprinkled across the hardwood floor. She zoomed in on it. “Just the lamp?”
“Thankfully, although this ghost has a habit of breaking the most expensive antiques in the room.”
“Seems it decided to play after everyone left.”
“Maybe.” He ran his fingers though his dark hair. “Let me get a broom and clean this up.”
She hit stop and set the camera down on the table. There was something more to this, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Remy said the activity was highest when he had women over. The lamp fell right after he had kissed her neck. She already had evidence, but perhaps it was time to piss off the ghost and get some more. All in the name of science, of course. She would willingly allow Remy to seduce her if it meant capturing more proof of paranormal activity.
When he came back in, she sashayed over to him. “I have an idea.”