Текст книги "Tall, Dark and Deadly"

Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

Chapter Five

A few minutes later, Lauren settled into Royce’s truck and watched him pull into traffic. “We’re going to drive right by my home office,” he said. “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to swing by and grab something.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “And if you think I have time, I’d like to snag a quick shower.”

“In your office?”

 “My office is in the same building as my apartment.”

“Wow. I’m jealous your office is in your home. I’d never be able to do that with my job.”

“When my brothers and I decided to open Walker Security, we bought a small building. We live on the upper level and work on the bottom floor.”

“Really? You live with your brothers?”

“A little too close for comfort sometimes,” he said with a laugh. “But thankfully, each apartment has its own door."

Lauren studied his profile, watching him maneuver through traffic with the kind of finesse he seemed to have with everything he did. “Oh,” she said. “That’s a unique living arrangement.”

He shot her a quick grin. “Yeah, well, you’ll see firsthand soon enough.”

She grinned back at him. “I’m looking forward to it. Families always have great little tidbits to share about each other.”

He laughed. “Yes, well, I see we’ll need to make this a quick trip. The last thing I need is my tidbits getting out before I’m ready.”

Before he was ready as if he thought he might be ready someday, as if they were developing a relationship.

“So,” he said. “I guess I should come clean and tell you that after reading the morning paper, I now know that I’m a close friend of the opposing counsel on your upcoming case. And that I apparently look angry in all photos taken of me.”

She cringed. “I didn’t even look at the paper. I’m so used to that stuff I tune it out. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t fishing for an apology. I just wanted you to know I am friends with Mark. But we don’t discuss his cases and we actually haven’t talked at all in a few weeks.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” she said, meaning it. She liked that Royce didn’t have a political agenda; she liked it a lot. “And since I know Mark pretty well myself, I know he’s ethical. I know he wouldn’t talk to you about the case.”

“No. No, he wouldn’t. But I read up on it this morning. Sounds like a pretty sticky case. Let me get this straight. The defendant killed her husband and you’re after the death penalty. Mark’s defense is Battered Women’s Syndrome.” He whistled. “That has to be a tough one for you to handle.”

She hesitated. “I can’t discuss anything that we aren’t making public and even that has to be on a limited basis.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It’s hard. Half of the media is making me out to be the monster here, mostly because the family of the suspect is doing so much of it themselves especially the brother. But I don’t go after a death penalty verdict lightly, Royce. There’s a life insurance policy, a big one. And this woman didn’t kill her husband in the heat of the moment. She slowly, methodically poisoned him. There were no calls to the police, no reports of violence from this woman prior to the murder. No history of violence anywhere in this man’s life at all.”

“I read all of that in the paper,” he said. “And what baffles me is that Mark runs his own firm and he doesn’t take cases for money or fame. He’s about justice and right and wrong. He must know something you don’t know.”

“She’s convinced him she’s innocent,” Lauren said, her stomach knotting. “I don’t doubt that. But I don’t doubt the woman’s guilt either. And damn it, someone has to fight for the man she killed, because he can’t do it himself.” She waved her hand dismissively, unease tightening her stomach. “Enough about my work. I’d rather talk about you. Tell me about your brothers before I’m in the center of the Walker pack. I know a little about Luke since, I’m sure you know, he and Julie dated, or had a fling, or whatever it was. I never quite figured it out.”

He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, we’re changing subjects?”

“Exactly,” she said with a firm nod. “I was surprised to hear Luke left the SEALs. Julie thought he’d be in for his career.”

“He was afraid Blake and I would kill each other if he didn’t referee.”

“Really? Why is that?”

He cleared his throat. “Blake thinks I order him around too much.”

Lauren laughed. “I have a hard time believing that. Blake must be exaggerating.”

He chuckled, a deep, sexy rumble that sent a wave of awareness rushing over her, and suddenly they were joking back and forth, and the stress of her upcoming case faded. With every word spoken, every smile exchanged, she found herself more drawn to Royce. By the time they pulled into a rented parking spot outside of his four-story, white brick building, Lauren was feeling as if she were talking with an old friend surprisingly at ease.

As he held the door open for her and she exited the vehicle, a cool breeze danced through her hair, lifting it, a signal that winter wasn’t quite gone yet. She took a deep breath, allowing the lingering season to conjure emotions both past and present. She glanced at Royce as he stepped to her side, wondering where he fit into those feelings.

She followed him into his building, sneaking covert looks at him, wondering how any man could look so good, so ruggedly handsome in a wrinkled suit with a one day beard. But he did look good, oh, how he did. He looked about as perfect as a man could look.

They rode the elevator several floors up, and when she finally stepped into his private apartment, she was pleasantly surprised at what she found. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t what she saw but then, that seemed to be the theme for all things she had discovered about Royce Walker. She found herself standing inside a cozy, warm home, rather than a typical, cold and unfeeling bachelor pad, with a kitchen to her left and a bar that opened to a large living space that said Walker Security was doing well, because this was Manhattan, where space and quality came with a price tag. The decor was definitely masculine, warm hues of brown and tan, and free of female frills, with overstuffed chairs and a large couch. And of course, an oversized, manly flat screen television with large floor-to-ceiling windows on either side.

Standing just inside the doorway, Royce tossed his keys on the counter that divided the living area from the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home,” he said with a smile. “I’ll shower and change, and then we can be off again.”

Lauren nodded, eager to explore. “Take your time.”

Royce started to turn, but stopped, reaching for Lauren and pulling her into his arms. His mouth found hers for a quick kiss. “You can be nosy if you like.”

She grinned. “I plan on it.”

He laughed and started down the hall. Lauren’s gaze followed him, admiring his ogle-worthy backside until he disappeared into what she assumed was a bathroom or bedroom. For a moment, she simply scanned the room. She was standing in Royce Walker’s apartment. Who would have ever thought it could happen? Surely not her. The too hot, too sexy, Royce Walker who’d given her an amazing orgasm the night before. That was surely something to smile about, and so she did, slowly walking into the living room and stopping to look at various pictures sitting on tables and hanging on walls.

There were several photos of his brothers. At least she assumed that was who the two men in the shots were, judging from their resemblance to Royce. Then there was a picture of an older couple with enough of the same resemblance to him to have her guessing they were his parents.

“Hmm,” she murmured under her breath. She would never have thought Royce was so sentimental or family oriented. All his bad-boy charisma appeared to hide something deeper.

Interesting.

Settling down on the couch, she continued to survey her surroundings. The fireplace was massive, taking up half a wall to her left, and inviting images of cold, winter days snuggling with Royce in front of warm flames. Nice, she thought. Of course she wouldn’t be around to find out, so she wasn’t sure why she was even contemplating such a scenario.

Sighing, she wondered how she went from having her one and only one night stand with a bad boy, to being with Mr. Virtue, Mr. Dangerously Appealing and destined to break her heart. She grabbed a box of photos on the table and lost herself in what was a history of the family the Walker family. How long she sat there she didn’t know, but a knock on the door made her straighten. “Royce, it’s Luke. Open up.”

Surely, she should let Luke in, and admittedly, she was curious to meet the brother who had seduced her best friend and perhaps broken her unbreakable heart. She rushed toward the door, only to have another knock sound before she could get across the room. Impatience was evidently a Walker family trait. Opening the door, her eyes went wide at the handsome man before her. A girl could get overwhelmed surrounded by so much testosterone. It appeared good looks also ran in the family. As in the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome storybook men.

Before her stood a man much like Royce, but not Royce at all. He was smaller, not that the man was small, because he wasn’t. Next to Royce, small was actually pretty darn big, and Luke was well over six feet tall, impressively broad and muscular, with brown eyes and short hair he’d retained from his days as a Navy SEAL.

His brows dipped at the sight of her. “Who are you?”

"You Walker men have a way with words, don’t you?”

Luke frowned and then burst out laughing. “Sometimes we speak before we think.”

Planting her hands on her hips, she added, “And not nicely, I might add.” She stepped back from the door to let him enter.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Luke turned to Lauren and held out his hand. “Luke Walker. Can we start again?”

“Funny how your brother had to ‘start again’ as well.” She smiled, and offered him her hand. “Lauren Reynolds.”

“You’re”

Knowing what was next, Lauren pulled her hand free. “Please don’t.” She hated being referred to as "his" daughter. “Yes, my father is Senator Reynolds.” She gave him her back, retreating toward the couch.

Luke laughed. “I was actually going to say you’re Julie’s best friend.”

Lauren stopped walking. There was really no way out of her stupid misstep. She was a bit too defensive about her father. And how interesting that Luke commented about Julie, when she’d just been inquiring about him the night before.

Turning, Lauren found Luke snatching a cinnamon bun off a tray on the bar. He leaned on the edge. “Want one?”

He wasn’t pushing her over her stupid retort. Instead, he was giving her a reprieve, and she appreciated it. “No. I don’t even want to think about food.”  She paused for a beat, feeling the churn of her stomach. “Ever.”

Luke joined her on the couch, sitting at the other end, already on the last bite of his roll. “Did my brother get you drunk and take advantage of you?”

“I certainly did not.”

Lauren and Luke turned at the sound of Royce’s voice. This was her first time to see him in casual attire, and he didn’t disappoint. Dressed in snug, well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscular body, with his long hair, freshly washed and loose around his shoulders, there was an edge of lethal wildness barely suppressed, barely contained, that had her wishing she’d worked harder to set it free the night before. “No, he didn’t,” Lauren agreed. “I seem to bring out the gentleman in him.” The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt her face warm with color.

Luke looked at Lauren and then his brother. “What am I missing here?”

Royce cleared his throat. “I need to review a couple of files with you.” He paused pointedly. “Downstairs.”

Lauren eyed Royce. “I can take a hint. You want to talk to your brother alone. I’ll wait here.”

Luke arched a brow at Royce. “Doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”

“No,” Lauren said before Royce could answer. “I don’t.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Royce promised.

Lauren nodded and reached for the remote. This was new. The woman waiting on the man who was taking too long to get ready.

***

Royce followed Luke into his apartment. “Blake’s in the kitchen,” Luke told him, of their other brother.

“When isn’t he in someone’s kitchen?” Royce mumbled, considering Blake’s appetite for both food and revenge against the drug lord that had killed his fiancée were damn near legend.

Royce entered the kitchen and eyed Blake, who was quickly gobbling up junk food, his long hair neatly tied at his nape. “It’s a little early for cookies,” Royce informed him.

Blake smiled a bright white smile. “It’s dessert. I ate leftover pizza first.”

Luke grimaced. “That pizza was a week old, man.”

Blake shrugged his broad shoulders. “Tasted fine to me.”

Royce frowned and looked at the wall clock. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport by ten?”

Blake glanced at his watch and shoved the chair from the table. “Ah, hell,” he said. “I’m late.” Then he glared at both his brothers. “I know this airport contract pays us, and pays us well, but I hate these weekend security meetings. Next Saturday, one of you is going.”

“They like your ATF background,” Royce reminded him.

Blake waved on his way out of the room. “We’re talking about next Saturday.”

The instant he was gone, Luke turned an expectant look on his older brother. “Well?”

Royce let out a long breath, and leaned against the counter. “I have a situation.”

“A situation?” Luke laughed. “Is that what you’re calling a gorgeous woman in your living room these days?” Royce gave him a go to hell look. Luke raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m listening.”

“You already know Reynolds asked me for a favor.”

“Did it include sleeping with his daughter?”

Royce grunted. “Not exactly.”

Luke’s eyes widened incredulously. “Not exactly? What in the hell does that mean? I was joking.”

”Someone’s been sending him threatening notes, and Lauren has been mentioned.”

“Do they have any idea who might be responsible?”

“No, he doesn’t. She doesn’t know about any of this and he doesn’t want to tell her until I’m certain there’s a real threat.”

“And that would be why?”

“He says it’s because he believes she’ll blow off the threat. She works for the District Attorney’s office. That makes a person immune to fear in ways most wouldn’t be. I’d like to believe him, and after spending time with her, I certainly think his concern is merited.”

Luke grabbed a chair, and sat down at the table. “But?”

“I don’t know,” Royce said. “Maybe he’s being blackmailed for something he thinks she won’t forgive him for. Which, in and of itself, has bad news written all over it. Then there is an entirely different realm of low to consider, which are the senator’s political motives. He’s trying to get Lauren to run for office and she isn’t buying the idea. I hate to think he’s selfish enough to keep her in the dark over a threat out of fear of turning her ‘no’ into a ‘hell no.’”

“The blackmail angle makes more sense but then politicians have never made a lick of sense to me, period.” His lips thinned. “Tell me you didn’t agree to keep Lauren in the dark about this.”

“I agreed to check things out,” Royce admitted reluctantly.

“Without telling her.”

“He pulled out his trump card,” Royce explained. “Saving Dad. I figured that merited me doing a quick investigation. I planned on getting in and out.”

Luke arched a brow. “I see that’s working out well for you considering Lauren is now in your apartment on obviously friendly terms.”

Royce flipped a chair, straddling it, his arms on the back. “I planned to feel her out, see if the senator had any merit for believing she’d refuse protection if it was necessary. The rest just… happened.”

“You don’t let things just happen anymore than I do. If you have feelings for Lauren, and really, even if you don’t, you’re headed for deep, muddy waters. I don’t care what the senator says, you’d better come clean and do it right now.”

Royce slid his hand over his hair. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know. But if I tell her what’s going on, she’ll kick me to the curb in no uncertain terms. If she’s really in danger then I won’t be able to protect her. I’m… ”

“Screwed,” Luke offered helpfully.

Royce exhaled and nodded, then explaining the phone call situation to Luke before adding, “That about sums it up. I’m screwed. I don’t see how I can tell her anything until I find out what’s behind the letters and the phone calls. And at this point, I’ve already written my death wish with Lauren. I don’t plan to let someone else write hers. She’s spooked and she’s not telling me why. When I know she’s safe, I’ll step onto the plank, tell the truth, and wait for her to push me over the edge.”

Luke studied him a long moment. “Well hell. I guess I’m going out on the plank with you. Give me a quick rundown of the facts and tell me what you want me to do.”

“We have the blackmail possibility,” he said.

“Which is a logical consideration.”

“But Lauren’s not only in a role to make enemies, she’s working a death penalty case right now that’s getting a lot of attention.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke said. “I’ve read about it in the paper.”

“Then you know how much attention the case is getting.”

“If this was about her case, why send the letters to the senator?”

“Scare the father into protecting the daughter,” he said. “Get her off the case.”

 “And the calls?”

“Scare her into listening to him.”

“I like the blackmail angle better,” Luke said. “I assume you’ve sent the letters to your buddy at the FBI lab?”

“Yesterday,” he said, pushing to his feet. “And I’m hoping he can give me something to make this fast and easy to put to rest. But I don’t want to count on that and have it not happen.”

“Understood,” Luke said, standing with him. “I’ll get out my magnifying glass and start looking, with a little extra attention on the senator’s personal activities. And I’ll get surveillance on her office, home, and likewise for the senator, while I’m at it.”

Royce gave him a sharp, approving nod, before he headed back to his apartment and inched his way closer to the end of that plank.

Chapter Six

Royce found Lauren sitting on his living room floor with photo albums spread around her. She turned to face him, smiling. “Oh my God, for a guy, you have so many pictures.”

Royce wasn’t sure how to take that. “For a guy?” He moved toward her, sitting down after shuffling a couple albums to the side.

Her smile widened. “Maybe you’re not the ‘bad boy’ your reputation says you are.” And then before he could ask about that comment, she pointed to a picture of him hugging his dog when he was a kid. “And you love animals.”

He squatted down beside her and looked at the picture, grinning at the sight of his Golden Retriever wearing a pointed hat. “That was Scooter’s second birthday.”

Lauren giggled, pointing at the picture. “You mean you made the cake for the dog?”

“My mom did, but I asked her to. Scooter was my best friend.” He frowned. “He got really sick after eating that cake. My mom later informed me the bone was for him and the cake was for us.”

Lauren almost choked, laughter bubbling from her throat. “How much did he eat?”

His frown deepened at the memory. “The whole thing.”

Lauren tumbled over to her side in a laughing fit. Royce watched her, and any other time, he would have laughed right along with her. But every second he was with Lauren, he wanted another, and another.

He liked her, and damn it, he was taking advantage of her, hiding things from her for her father’s benefit. She thought he was a nice guy when he was nothing but a lying bastard. And God, what a bastard he was. She was making him crazy. She was adorable right now, and adorable had never been so sexy. He was hard as a rock, ready to rip her clothes off and make love to her. That he knew she’d blow off her lunch and let him, only made the temptation all the greater.

He moved toward her, where she lay on her back, and lowered his body over hers, resting his arms on either side of her head. Lauren stopped laughing, suddenly serious. She stared up at him, her eyes simmering with expectancy. And trust. She kept giving him her trust and it tore at him. It tore at him because he wanted to deserve it, and right now, he didn’t.

“Don’t kid yourself, Lauren. I’m no good guy.”

Confusion flashed in her eyes, but only for a moment. “I’ll decide that on my own, but thank you anyway.”

“I’m not.”

“Innocent until proven guilty.”

And he would be. He’d be guilty in the end of deceiving her. There was no way around it. The words were like ice water, dousing him with hard reality, and he pulled her to her feet. “I better get you to that lunch before you find the picture of my bulldog ‘Rocky’ dressed as a clown.”

She laughed. “You’re not serious.”

He sighed. “There’s a reason I wasn’t allowed into the canine unit.”

And when she smiled at him, he knew he’d do just about anything to keep those smiles coming his way. He just wasn’t sure ‘anything’ would be enough.

***

Lauren stepped into her father’s house feeling more than a little out of sorts. This thing, whatever it was, between her and Royce, was confusing. Of course visiting her father’s place always made her uneasy.

Voices led her to the dining room where she found not only her father and stepmother, but to her surprise and discomfort, her stepbrother, Brad Foster. She wouldn’t have come had she known he’d be here. Everything about Brad sat wrong with her from his personality to his mousy brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and standard uniform of a pressed button-down shirt and a blazer. Brad looked up and smiled at her. It took tremendous energy for her to smile back. “I thought you were out of town, Brad.” Lauren entered the room as she spoke, a slight edge to her voice she couldn’t seem to contain.

“I flew in late last night,” he said, his eyes following her movements.

She hated the way Brad watched her all the time. “It was too bad you couldn’t make it to the party.”

“Morning, Lauren,” her father said, settling his napkin in his lap and reaching for a crystal glass filled with iced tea.

“Morning, Daddy,” she said, and then forced her attention to her stepmother, “Hello, Sharon.”

Lauren sat down at her place setting, directly across from Brad, flipping her napkin open. The table was filled with an array of brunch items. Lean cuts of roast beef, croissants, fresh fruit, and potato salad. “I’m starving. The food looks good.” Despite the rather nauseating company, her stomach was feeling better, as was her head.

With a wink, her father smiled. “Well then, by all means, let’s eat.”

“Brad was just telling us about his most recent case,” Sharon commented, clearly aiming to take some sort of jab at Lauren. She always had an agenda.

Brad leaned back in his chair, arrogance etched in his chiseled features. Lauren couldn’t help making a hasty comparison between Brad and Royce. Although Royce was arrogant, he wasn’t a snob. Royce was confident. Brad oozed an “I'm better than you” cockiness that drove her bonkers. “Just a little corporate trademark case,” Brad gloated with fake humbleness. “A few million in jeopardy. Nothing as exciting as the murder and mayhem Lauren favors.”

Lauren was reaching for her glass when Brad’s words hit her. Her hand froze around the chilled drink. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, fixing Brad with a frosty stare.

A slow, poisonous smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I protect the public. Do you have a problem with putting criminals behind bars?”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for a senator’s daughter,” he commented dryly.

Her mouth dropped open for a moment, then, through clenched teeth, she demanded, “And how exactly does your trademark war you’re litigating better serve the public than putting a murderer behind bars?”

“I guess I don’t consider putting a battered woman in the electric chair justice for the public or anyone else.”

“You don’t know anything about this case,” she said, barely containing the urge to reach for her drink again and throw it in his face.

“Brad, I think that’s enough,” the senator chided.

“Yes, enough Brad,” Sharon added, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Lauren almost snorted. Of course it was enough. Her father had spoken. No way would Sharon have said a word until he did.

“What is it with your dislike for law enforcement, Brad?” And she couldn’t help taking a jab. “You have some skeleton in your closet you don’t want discovered?”

Brad flung his napkin on the table. “Now just one damn minute”

“Enough,” Sharon said more firmly this time.

Lauren and Brad stared at each other, and she made sure he saw the contempt she felt in her eyes. After several seconds, she pushed to her feet, “I’m not so hungry after all.” Lauren headed to the kitchen, filled a cup with coffee and headed to the den, her favorite room in the house, where she fully intended to try and calm down while waiting for the cab she was about to call.

She entered the room of warm browns and heavy oak, lined with law books she’d spent hours of her life studying. It was an escape for her, a place of peace after her mother’s death.

Setting her coffee down on the nearby desk, she turned to the books, eager to make a selection relevant to her upcoming trial, and temporarily forgetting her cab. She stood there, lost in the text, as she had so many times before. That was, until a  faint thickness in the air made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She turned, finding Brad far too close for comfort, a mere foot away, at most. It was unnerving. She hadn’t heard him approach. She stiffened, knowing how aggressive he could get. He took a step closer, and she had nowhere to go but into the bookshelf.

His eyes traveled a slow path up and down her body, and then settled on her face. “You know, I’ve always thought you were quite beautiful when you’re angry. Sometimes I get you fired up just to watch the way your eyes sparkle when your temper flares.” He stepped closer and reached to touch her cheek.

Lauren turned her head to avoid his touch. “Don’t,” she bit out.

He pulled his hand away, but his eyes felt like a melting ember on her skin. “We’d be good together, you and I.”

“Brad, stop,” Lauren said, looking at him, wanting him to see the distaste in her eyes.

“You’re afraid of how it would look,” he said, his hand going to the bookcase beside her, trapping her in a corner. “But you shouldn’t be. We aren’t blood relatives. You lost your mother. You found me. The press will eat it up. We’ll be everyone’s love story.”

She shut the book. “You’re talking craziness, Brad.”

His hand slid to her cheek and she slapped it away. Panic rushed over her. He never touched her and that he did now set off warning bells. She tried to step around him. He moved with her, blocking her.

“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded, hands pressed hard against his chest.

A wicked grin filled his face as his head dipped toward her. “You have, and I’d like to get into you.”

She’d always thought he was a little off somehow, always thought him a little too like some of the unsavory types she put behind bars, but he’d taken it to a whole new level today. She inhaled slowly, more than a little experienced with dealing with people like Brad. “I’m going to give you three seconds to move out of my way before I bring my knee to your crotch and make sure you know it’s there. One. Two. Three.” He moved, laughing evilly.

She yanked her phone from her purse, even as she walked towards the dining room to tell her father she was feeling sick. Of course, Sharon made a snide remark about ‘too much champagne will do that to you’ but Lauren let it ride. She just wanted out of the house, out of this house. And sadly, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t exactly what Brad, and Sharon, wanted. Lauren was the intruder, the outsider. She couldn’t complain and have it do any good. Her father wanted Sharon and he wouldn’t risk losing her; she’d learned that the hard way too many times to count. But ironically, neither could Sharon and Brad quite get rid of Lauren. And for the first time ever, Lauren felt done with this battle, done fighting for her home, for a family that wasn’t a family at all. In fact, she was so done with this, that she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t just let Brad and Sharon get what they really want. Maybe Lauren should just go away and stay away.