Текст книги "Tall, Dark and Deadly"

Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Royce pulled to the curb in front of Lauren’s building, making sure she was safely at work before he set off into action. Sitting outside Lauren’s building while she worked wasn’t going to end this for her.

“Remember, I have two men already in position here at the building. You have both of their numbers in auto-dial. Be aware of what’s going on but don’t let it consume you. You’re safe.” He glanced down at the deep cleavage of the emerald blouse she wore under a black suit. “From everyone but me.”

She tugged at the blouse. “Leave it to Julie to bring me the most inappropriate clothes she owns. I’ll be pinning this shut.”

“We can go get your clothes tonight on the way home.”

“Home?” she asked.

“I’ve got you with me,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her. “Don’t expect me to let you go.”

She wiped his mouth. “Pink isn’t your color.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “Text me when you get to your office so I know you’re safe.”

She nodded and reached for the door. “Be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name.”

She smiled. “Funny. I thought it was Luke’s.” She pushed open the door and slung her briefcase over her shoulder, before heading the short distance to the glass door before disappearing inside.

He dialed Kyle. “I’m leaving.”

“I’m about to follow her onto the elevator. She’ll be fine.” He hung up, no doubt already inside the car with Lauren.

Royce dropped his phone on the seat, his gut tight. Damn, this was killing him. He was going to enjoy tracking down this bastard. His first target, the ‘dude’ who’d been nasty to Lauren the day before. Whether he was guilty of being a jerk or guilty of more, he’d know not to bother Lauren again when Royce was done with him.

Fifteen minutes later, Royce pulled into an apartment in the east side, poverty stricken section of Brooklyn and made his way to the door 4B. He knocked, and mumbled under his breath, “Come on, you son of a bitch. Answer.”

The door swung revealing a man wearing jeans and nothing more. “Yeah?”

 A standoff ensued. They stared at each other, sizing each other up. Cockiness, bred from Special Forces training, oozed from his opponent. The man was a deadly weapon, but then, so was he. “Jonathan Wilkins?”

“You’re looking at him,” Wilkins said. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“The name’s Royce Walker. I’d like to talk about Lauren Reynolds.”

No reaction. “What about her?”

“You tell me.”

“I hate the bitch. What’s it to you?”

“Everything.”

“She’s trying to kill my sister,” he said coldly.

“She’s doing her job.”

“Amazing how some people get paid to kill another while others just get thrown in jail, now isn’t it?” There was no mistaking the malice to the question. “Makes a person appreciate the laws of another country. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.”

“That’s called the death penalty,” Royce reminded him. “And here we get a jury and we’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“She’s already convicted my sister, and we both know it.”

“Her opinion doesn’t matter. The jury’s does.”

“And she tells them what she wants them to hear.”

He started to shut the door and Royce shoved his foot in the door. “Touch her and you’ll regret it.”

“I’m shaking in my bare feet, man. Absolutely quivering. I’m put in my place.”

They glared at one another and Royce wanted to yank the asshole into the hallway and beat him to a pulp, but he wouldn’t do Lauren any good in jail. However, if this guy meant her harm, he needed him to know that she wasn’t alone, that she was protected. “I’m going to be watching you,” he said, and stepped back.

His lips lifted in an evil smile. “Enjoy the show.” And he shut the door.

***

Royce was halfway back to the city, heading to Sullivan’s offices, the attorney who’d defended Sheridan, when it hit him that he’d never told Wilkins who he was, beyond a name, and Wilkins had never asked. Something about that rubbed him wrong, but then, everything about Wilkins rubbed him wrong.

He sent a text to Lauren and made sure she was okay, then called Julie. “Law offices.”

“I need to speak to Julie Morrison.”

“She’s not available,” the prim voice on the other line informed him.

He held his tone in check with effort, but his words still held a sharp edge. “Make her available. Tell her Royce Walker needs to speak to her urgently.”

“Sir”

“Just do it,” he demanded. Rude and he knew it, but damn it, he didn’t have niceties in him right now. Instantly he heard office music in his ear.

“Royce?” Julie said, concern in her voice. “Is Lauren okay?”

“Yes,” he said reassuring her, feeling a bit of guilt for scaring her. “I just need you to take her lunch and check on her.”

A sigh of relief escaped Julie’s lips. “That’s an order I’ll happily take. You really are a bossy bear, Royce.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to work on that. Have her call me when you get there. I mean, please have her call me when you get there.”

She laughed. “Since you asked, I absolutely will.” She paused. “Don’t hurt her, Royce. She deserves to be happy.”

His gut knotted. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

By the time Royce parked his truck and fed a parking meter, he knew he would be hard pressed to make his meeting with Luke after this trip. Sullivan’s street level office was small and rather humble in decor, at least from the exterior. A doorbell chimed as he entered. The lobby hosted a light assortment of furnishings including a well-worn desk and several mix and match pictures. It was a far cry from the elite law firm Sullivan had worked for during the Sheridan trial.

A tall man with curly blond hair, a lanky build, and a suspicious gaze appeared in a corner doorway. With sleeves a hint too long, and pants the same, his suit fit him about as well as the furnishing. It didn’t. There was an air about this man that said money. A complete contradiction to his surroundings.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Sullivan. David Sullivan.”

“I’m Sullivan. Who are you?”

Royce sensed nervousness in the man. “Royce Walker. I handle security issues for individuals as well as businesses. I’m here to discuss Marvin Sheridan.” It wasn’t a request, nor was it meant to be.

“What of him?” he questioned with narrowed eyes.

“There is suspicion that he could be involved in some threats one of my clients has been receiving.”

Sullivan studied Royce for several long moments as if he was deciding if he should talk to him. Finally, with a nod, he said, “Come this way,” turned and started walking.

Odd man, he thought, following him, noting the man’s jerky movements, almost like a machine fighting a mechanism.

Inside the corner office, Sullivan sat behind a bigger version of the scuffed piece of wood in the center of the lobby. Royce settled into a worn blue cloth visitor’s chair. He would have preferred to stand but he sensed Sullivan’s unease and didn’t want to intimidate him by hovering. He wanted the man to talk.

Leaning back, Sullivan rocked in a squeaky leather chair. Like nails on a chalkboard, the sound raked on Royce’s nerves. “Sheridan is scheduled to be executed,” he said. ”What harm is he to your client?”

Royce narrowed his gaze on the man. “Kept up with him, I see?”

“Wouldn’t you if you were the attorney who defended a man being put to death?”

Royce shrugged. “He’s a killer.”

“He was temporarily insane.”

“The jury said differently.”

Tapping the fingers of one hand on his desk, Sullivan studied Royce. “What are you after here, Mr. Walker?”

“How do you feel about Lauren Reynolds?”

“Is Lauren your client?”

“My client’s identity is confidential. Again, how do you feel about Lauren Reynolds?”

“How does anyone feel about the opponent that brings them to their knees?” His tone was hostile.

“You tell me,” Royce challenged.

“It doesn’t really matter. It’s past history.”

“What does that mean?”

Sullivan snorted. “What do you think it means? The man is going to die, end of story. He’s out of appeals.”

“How’s Sheridan handling that?”

Sullivan raked a hand through his hair. “He’s accepting. He met a woman who helped him find God. He says he’s been forgiven and ready to face his maker.”

“Should you have won the case?”

A frown dipped his brows. “Should have, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?” Royce pressed.

His fist balled on top of the desk. “I had some bumps during the trial, and Lauren Reynolds milked each and every one of them. Surely you read the press I got over the ordeal. I lost my job, my wife, everything.”

“And you blame her?”

He grimaced and seemed to stiffen. “I did, but not anymore. I stumbled. She did what any good attorney would do and took advantage of opportunity. There’s no room in the courtroom to screw up. You just can’t do it.”

Royce stood to leave. “One more thing,” he said. “Is there anyone around Sheridan who might want revenge on his behalf?”

“Other than me and the ten partners in the law firm I worked for, no one.”

Ten partners who had suffered the bad press of losing the trail. Damn, the list of possibilities just got longer and longer. Royce turned to leave. “There is one more person who hates Lauren,” Sullivan said. Royce turned and arched a brow.

“My ex-wife. She lost all the prestige and money she thought I was about to give her. The bitch married me for money and power, and nothing more.”

Chapter Sixteen

In a few short hours, Lauren had negotiated plea bargains on four cases. She was zapped and she still had hours of work to do. It was taking every ounce of concentration she had to keep focused on the words she was reading as she clicked through her e-mail. She had forty new items in her inbox since she cleared it two hours before.

“Lauren.”

Lauren jumped at the unexpected, familiar voice of her ex-fiancée, Roger. “You scared the heck out of me. How did you get past the front desk?”

He leaned against the door frame, looking every bit like Tom Cruise in ‘The Firm’, one leg crossed over the other, his thousand dollar suit fitted, his hair and nails perfectly groomed. “She was on the phone and I waved and walked by.”

So easily. Too easily. She was fooling herself to think she was safely nestled in her office. “What are you doing here, Roger?”

“What kind of way is that to greet your ex-fiancé? I am, after all, the man you almost pleaded never ending love to.”

“I’m tired. I have a big trial starting, and I don’t have time for this.” She refocused on her computer screen intent on dismissing him.

“I worry about you.”

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. She gave him a curious look. Suddenly, the past came back in a rush of memories, but none of them were good. She couldn’t remember why she’d ever said ‘yes’ to marrying him.

“We weren’t meant to be, Roger. We were a business arrangement and neither of us would have been happy long term.”

Lauren’s buzzer went off. She punched the button. “Yes.”

“Pick up.”

Lauren frowned, but reached for the receiver. “Yes?”

Alice whispered urgently, “There is a very large, very grouchy man here who insists on seeing you.”

Lauren couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s Royce. Tell him I’ll be right out.” Lauren pushed to her feet. “I have a visitor I need to attend.”

Abruptly Roger closed the distance between them, and was behind her desk, his hands on her shoulders, right over the bandage and her burn. “I made a mistake. I had cold feet. We can make it work. I’ll make it up to you.”

Lauren grabbed his hand. “You're hurting me.”

“And you’re destroying me. I miss you. I”

“Let her go.”

Roger released her and turned to the door, where Royce stood, tall and broad, in jeans and a T-shirt, that might as well have been leather and knives, for the look on his face.

“Who are you?” Roger demanded.

“The only man who gets to touch her.”

Lauren gaped at the caveman-like statement. “Royce,” she ground out between her teeth.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I was just leaving,” Roger said, but Royce still blocked the doorway and made no effort to move.

“Don’t leave on my account,” Royce said in a hard voice Lauren was starting to worry about.

Roger, who was used to being under fire in the courtroom appeared to recover from his initial shock. Offering a cool glare, he said, “I’m not. I simply came by to check on Lauren.” He glanced at Lauren, “I’ll call you,” and then stepped forward as if daring Royce to block his way.

For several tense seconds, Lauren thought Royce wasn’t going to move, but finally he backed up to let Roger pass. She was at the door when Royce stepped inside her office, shutting the door. “You’re the only man who gets to touch me? I’m not your property, Royce.”

“No. But we’re either exclusive or we aren’t anything.”

At any other time, she’d have reveled in what he was saying, what he was offering, but not now, not like this. “You don’t get to tell me we’re exclusive. You don’t get to demand it. That’s not how this works.”

He grabbed her and picked her up, setting her on the desk, shoving her skirt up and pressing her legs apart to stand between them. His hands framed her body, pressed to the wooden surface beside her hips. “Do you want Roger?”

Heat sizzled down her spine. This damnable alpha side of him pissed her off, but it turned her on too, and she didn’t understand why. She pressed on his hard, unmoving chest. “Don’t bully me or push me around. Let me up.”

“Do you want Roger?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Apparently you want to keep you options open,” he said, his hands skimming up her thighs. “You don’t want to say we’re exclusive. So maybe this is just a good time ride for you?”

“You’re being an asshole,” she said. “Demanding and demanding. You don’t get to demand. You ask, Royce.”

His eyes darkened, glinting dangerously. “You want me to ask?” He skimmed his thumb over her panties. “How about this? Will you come for me, Lauren? Right here, in your office?” He slid his fingers under her panties and she gasped at the pleasure. “Does he make you wet like this?”

“Stop it, Royce,” she gasped as his fingers pushed inside her. “Stop.”

He reached up and tugged down her blouse, exposing her bra and then her nipple, before leaning down and licking it. “Not until you say you’re mine.”

“I’m not saying that. I won’t ever be yours if you’re this big of an asshole.”

“I’m just making sure you know who is supposed to be fucking you.”

She arched against his fingers, unable to stop herself. “I hate how you’re acting.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I hate that you’re doing... this.” Her body clenched around his fingers, pleasure rushing through her, defying her words.

The fingers of his other hand tangled into her hair, forcing her gaze to his, her mouth a breath from his. He stroked her clit with his thumb, pumping inside her. “I hate the idea of him doing this to you.”

“He can’t do this to me.”

“Why?” he all but growled.

There was something in his voice, in his words, a vulnerability that defied his demands, that reached into her and drew a response. “Because he’s not you, Royce.”

He kissed her, hard and demanding, a fierce claiming that had her moaning and giving into her need for him. Everything blurred then turning to shades of pleasure. She couldn’t get enough of him, she couldn’t even remember where she was. Only that she helped him shove his pants down, welcomed him ripping away her panties, and whimpered when his cock pressed into her.

He thrust into her, lifted her off the desk, and pulled her down on him. She clung to him, hungered for him like she had never another man, and yes, she came for him, just like he wanted her to.

He shook with his release and then set her on the desk, burying his face in her neck. Emotions rolled over Lauren and she didn’t know what she was feeling. “Let me up,” she said, shoving on his shoulders. “I need up. Someone could walk in.”

He lifted his head and looked like he would refuse, a moment before he pulled a tissue from the box on her desk, handed it to her, and pulled out of her.

Lauren quickly gave him her back to clean up. She snatched her panties, shoved them in her desk drawer and fixed her shirt. She turned to find him standing close, hands pressed in his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t know what the hell came over me. I don’t want anyone else to touch you and I’m pretty sure I just screwed this up in every possible way.”

The raw vulnerability in him she’d sensed minutes before reached out to her, “I don’t want Roger. I don’t want anyone else, but if you act like that again,” she hesitated, “I might come but I won’t like it.”

His lips turned up slowly. ”You won’t like it?”

“Okay, I might like it, but I won’t be happy I liked it.”

He bit back a broader smile. “Do I dare believe that comment means you forgive me?”

“Yes but”

He was holding her before she could add “Don’t go caveman on me again.”

“Never?” he teased.

She brushed her fingers over his. “Maybe later tonight, but not after that.”

He chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

And neither could she. It was time to face the very real possibility that she’d gone and exposed herself to more than a dangerous monster trying to kill her. She’d exposed her heart. Lauren was falling in love with Royce.

Chapter Seventeen

It was near midnight and Royce lay in his bed, Lauren snuggled to his side sleeping, something he couldn’t seem to manage. Three days had passed, and despite his caveman behavior at her office, as Lauren often called it, or perhaps because of it, she’d changed, let down her guard with him. She finally seemed to get how much he was invested in what was going on with them. Any happiness he might have arrived at from that was diminished by the torment of knowing that he was failing to protect her, proven by the fact that every day came with another calendar sheet delivered by what seemingly was a damn ghost. One had been stuffed in a lunch bag from a delivery to her office, but no one at the restaurant claimed to have put it there. One had been on his truck window despite the video footage that showed nothing. The final one had been left with the security desk at her building, delivered by a little old lady who disappeared, and was never seen again. And every single delivery was a taunt that said “I can get to her whenever I want to” and Royce knew it.

His cell phone started to vibrate on the bedside table and he grabbed it, certain a call at this hour wasn’t good. Lauren’s head popped up. ”What time is it?”

“Late,” he said, answering the call that the ID identified as Bill Smith, the Senator’s staff security person.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not bothering with ‘hello.’ He untwined himself from Lauren to sit up, anticipating trouble and heading to his closet.

“Senator Reynolds’ house is on fire.”

Royce stopped in his tracks. “How?”

“I’m not there yet but I’m being told it’s obvious arson.”

Holy hell. “Is everyone okay?”

“The senator certainly is, enough so that he’s yelling at me and telling me I need to get my ass over here and start doing my job. He wants you there. That’s an order.”

An order. Right. He didn’t even work for the man. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He ended the call and dialed Luke, managing to get his pants on while it rang. “Get over here, dressed, and ready to leave. And get Blake down here to stay with Lauren.” He didn’t wait for a reply, ending the call and reaching for a shirt and pulling it over his head.

“What’s happening?” Lauren asked, on her knees now and clutching the blanket. “What’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”

Damn, he didn’t want to tell her this. He grabbed his boots and headed for the bed. “No one is hurt.” He sat down next to her. “Everyone is completely fine.” He quickly put on his boots and ran his hands down his pants.

“But? I hear the ‘but’. What is going on?”

“I’m going to repeat this to make sure I’m making myself clear. Everyone is okay but there has been a fire at your father’s house.”

“What? How? Oh, God. I have to get over there.” She shoved away the blanket and he shackled her arm.

“No,” he said. “You need to stay here. I need to know you’re safe so I can deal with your father.”

“Why do you need to deal with my father? He’s my father.” She frowned. “Why did he call you?”

“That was Bill, his security guy.”

“I don’t understand. Why did Bill call you?”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. He hadn’t done so before now, and doing so would only make her think worse of him later. “It’s complicated. Too complicated to explain at this moment. I know you’re worried but everyone is safe. It’s you who might not be if you’re there, in the middle of all the chaos, where you’re an easy target.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.” She shook her head. “I... what aren’t you telling me?”

“I promise you that I will explain everything when I get back.” He caressed her cheek. “Please, baby. I’m begging you here. No caveman routine. No demands. I’m asking. Let me deal with this without worrying about you.”

“I don’t want to stay here.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t ask you to, not under these circumstances, if I didn’t really feel like it was important.”

She considered him a long moment. “Fine. Yes. But only if you call me when you get there. I want to know you’ve seen my father with your own two eyes and that he’s really okay.”

“I will.” He leaned in and kissed her, and his gut clenched. He hesitated, knowing this was the wrong time to tell her how he felt, but afraid not to. She was going to find out about his deal with her father tonight, he just knew it, and she was going to hate him.

Knocking sounded from the front door and he silently cursed. “I have to go.” He kissed her again and took off for the other room, forcing himself to leave her.

***

Lauren walked to the living room, shoving her arms in her red silk robe, only to come face to face with Blake. He stood by the couch, fully dressed, his long hair wild and loose around his shoulders, his eyes blurry with barely escaped sleep.

They stared at each other several beats, before he said, “Not the best circumstances to get to know each other, but I’ve always found the best way to get past niceties and awkward shit is food.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Want to go raid the fridge with me?”

She sighed, surprised and relieved at how easily he’d torn away the tension. “There’s leftover pizza but I get the cheese slices.”

He grinned, his brown eyes friendly, warm. ”Deal.”

A few minutes later they sat at the coffee table, eating cold pizza and drinking soda, both of them with their cell phones lying on the table. “How’s your arm?” he asked.

“Much better. It’s going to scar but I can live with that.” She dropped a piece of crust into the box. “Do you think the same person set the fire?”

“Yes.” He sucked down some drink.

“You don’t candy coat things, I see.”

“Nope.” He reached for another slice of pizza.

“Aren’t you ATF or ex-ATF? Shouldn’t you be at the fire?”

“I don’t know the people involved the way Royce and Luke do.”

“You mean my father.”

“And the suspects.”

“What suspects.” Her stomach fell to her feet. “You mean you think this involves me, don’t you?”

He moved the empty pizza box. “Don’t you?”

She swallowed hard. “I... I didn’t know we thought the fire was intentional.”

“It was.”

The phone in the kitchen rang and Lauren started to get up. “It’s not him,” Blake said. “He never answers that phone or calls it. I don’t know why he has the damn thing.” He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a deck of cards. “You're not going to sleep. We might as well play.”

“I wish he’d call.”

“He’ll call,” Blake said. “But once you get on a scene things tend to get crazy.”

“What if he’s wrong and my father is hurt?”

He grabbed his phone. “I’ll call Luke if it will make you feel better.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Blake.”

Luke answered almost immediately and Blake quickly told Lauren, “Your father is fine. He’s currently yelling at Royce, which is why he hasn’t called us.” He chatted with Luke a moment and then hung up. “Before you ask, I have no idea why your father is yelling at Royce. But yelling means he’s alive and kicking and isn’t that all that really matters?”

“What if his house had been burned down because of me? What if someone would have died?”

“Those things didn’t happen.” He studied her a long moment. “Take it from me, Lauren. ‘What if’ will eat you alive. Don’t do that to yourself.”

He was talking about what happened to his fiancée; she knew he was.

He grabbed the cards. “Since we don’t have ‘Old Maid,’ how about ‘Go Fish’?”

“Go Fish,” she said. “That’s a walk down childhood lane. I’m in.” She’d do anything to keep from climbing the walls. “Let me go put on some coffee first.”

Lauren headed to the kitchen and quickly started to load the coffee pot, realizing just how comfortable she was here, how at home she felt in Royce’s place. He felt right. They felt right. She flipped the pot on and promised herself she wasn’t going to read into what was happening tonight, or his promise to tell her everything, that inferred he’d been keeping something from her.

The phone on the wall rang again about the time that she reached for two coffee mugs in the cabinet, and it hit her that it was the middle of the night. Who called at a time like this? Her nerves prickled, worry filling her. When she would have headed back to the living room, she just stood there, waiting on the machine, certain the ticking clock had found her. The beep sounded and a voice came on the line instead.

“Royce, sugar,” a female purred. “Donna here. Where have you been, baby? Call me so we can do dinner or whatever else you want to do.” Lauren clenched the cups, feeling her chest tighten with emotion, a flashback of finding Roger in bed with another woman turning into an image of Royce with another woman.

“She’s no one, Lauren,” Blake said from behind her.

She whirled around to face him. “That didn’t sound like no one.”

“She didn’t even rate his cell phone number.”

“So that’s why he has a land line? For women.”

“He was single and he had no interest in long term. You changed that, Lauren. You know you did. You’re upset tonight. Don’t make this something it’s not.”

 She didn’t know what she felt or what she thought. She only knew that everything was spinning out of control, that she had no control. She’d done what she’d never done in her life. She’d given it all away.

She pushed off the counter and walked towards him. “I’m going to my father’s house.” He blocked the exit. “Move, Blake. I’m sick of you Walker brothers pushing me around.”

“He is crazy about you.”

She wasn’t going to cry. She was not going to cry. Her chin lifted. “You can take me where I want to go or I can call a cab. Your choice.”

He scrubbed his hair. “Oh, well hell. He’s going to take my head for this, but I’ll take you.”

***

The first thing Lauren saw when they rounded the neighborhood corner were fire trucks, the next was her father’s house still looking normal and in one piece. She let out a breath of relief, especially since Blake had been desperately trying to warn Royce and Luke that they were on their way, and he couldn’t seem to reach either of them.

“It’s not on fire,” Lauren said, glancing at Blake.

“It’s contained,” Blake said. “That doesn’t mean it’s not on fire, or it wasn’t on fire.” He dropped his phone to the seat, and grumbled something about hanging Royce up by his toes. “Looks like several houses down is as close as we’re going to get with all the yellow tap.” He angled the Ranger to back in between two cars, and put the car in reverse, pausing to say, “I’ll go get Royce and bring him to”

 Lauren shoved open the door, hopped out, and started running towards the house, the cool night air whipping through her hair and making her pull the jacket of her sweat suit closer to her body.

“Lauren!” Blake shouted.

She ignored him, cutting up a line of bushes to avoid the cluster of four official personnel not far away, and then ducking under the tape.

Blake shouted again, getting closer, and Lauren stepped up her pace, and charged towards the porch. She hit the first step, relieved that if there was any structural damage, it wasn’t significant enough to be seen from here.

She entered the front door, hearing Blake talking to someone behind her. She paused inside the foyer, seeing no obvious fire or damage, but the scent of smoke tainted the air, bitter proof there had been a fire. The sound of voices drew her to the left, towards her father’s den.

Her tennis shoes padded soundlessly over the carpet and she paused at the cracked door, some invisible force, instinct, telling her to wait, to listen. She eased around the edge of the door so that she could see into the room.

Royce was standing by the marble fireplace, Luke at the opposite side. Her father, and some man she didn’t recognize, sat in leather chairs framing the couch.

“I’m not going to keep this from her,” Royce said. “I’m done, Senator. This ends tonight.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” her father said, standing up. “When I hired you”

“I don’t work for you,” he said. ”I did you a favor because you saved my father’s life in Vietnam. The end.”

The words cut through Lauren and she acted immediately, shoving open the door and stepping inside, seeing only Royce. “Favor? I was a favor.”

“Lauren,” Royce said, taking a step towards her. “I can explain.”

“That’s a ‘yes,’” she said, humiliation and hurt pouring through her. She turned and started to run, bursting through the front door, rushing down the steps, and straight into the path of Blake. At the same moment, Royce’s hand was on her arm, shooting hot fire up her arm.

She whirled around to face him, jerking out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me. You don’t ever touch me again.”

“Let me explain. Please. Just hear me out.”

“You made a deal with my father,” she said. “You used sex and my feelings to get inside my life to do his bidding whatever the hell it was. There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear.”

“He asked me to check out a couple threats against your life and I agreed. And I would have told you but I saw you were in danger and I wasn’t going to risk you pushing me away.”

“So you thought you’d just fuck me into submission?”

“No,” he breathed out. “Damn it, no. This has been eating me alive. You had me at ‘hello,’ Lauren. Hell, you had me from across the room. I couldn’t, I can’t, let you push me away and end up dead. I won’t let that happen.”