Claimed by Him

by M. S. Parker

  Better to tell her about me and Clay’s personal connection than my past, or my own connection to the FBI.

  “Yeah, it’s…complicated.”

  She brought over a bottle of water and set it in front of me. “Is it?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No, actually, you’re right, it’s not.” I took a drink before continuing. “First, you need to know that my uncle wasn’t like creepy old or anything, and Clay’s younger than him. He’s older than me, yeah, but it’s not anything…”

  “Inappropriate?” she suggested.

  “Right,” I agreed. “And we’re not in a relationship or anything like that. Just friends…with certain benefits.” The look Jenna gave me spoke volumes. “Believe me, neither of us are looking for anything else.”

  I was pretty sure that I hadn’t convinced her, but she didn’t press the matter.

  “What does he do for the FBI?”

  “He’s a profiler, but I guess he’s doing some field work now too. Partnered up with an agent named Raymond Matthews. I guess he’s a big deal in the Denver office. Arrested a lot of bad guys.”

  A little crease appeared between Jenna’s eyebrows, and I waited for her to tell me what was wrong, but she didn’t.

  “Are you doing anything tomorrow evening?”

  I blinked at the change of subject and scrambled for an answer. “Um, nothing, as far as I know.”

  “Good,” she said with a smile. “Come to dinner here at six. And bring your friend.”

  “Okay, I’ll give him a call.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I really thought about them, and then I couldn’t take them back. I’d have to call Clay and see if he wanted to come or deal with coming up with a decent lie. I didn’t dislike the idea of spending time with him, but I knew things had to be handled carefully. I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea and making things between us weird.

  Nine

  “Wow.” Clay stared up at the house, his eyes wide. “This is…impressive.”

  I chuckled and tugged on his shirtsleeve. “Come on. You keep ogling their house, and they’re going to think you’re a freak.”

  He grinned at me and reached for my hand. I let him take it because the front door was opening, and I didn’t want him getting embarrassed if I pulled away. Besides, it was just holding my hand. It didn’t have to mean anything.

  Except the way he’d looked at me when he’d picked me up today told me that things were shifting between us, and I had a bad feeling that Jenna’s comments regarding this relationship were going to be an issue now.

  I didn’t want to bring it up now though. We’d have a nice dinner, and I’d see where things went from there. If we had to have the talk, we’d have the talk then.

  “Rona, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Shit. Jenna’s husband was hot.

  I shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as I tried to figure out exactly what shade of blue-violet his eyes were. Then I realized that I was gaping at my friend’s husband and flushed, turning to Jenna as Rylan introduced himself to Clay.

  She grinned at me, her eyes laughing. Apparently, she knew the sort of effect he had on women. The moment he turned back to her, I knew why she didn’t care about my unintentional ogling. He looked at her like she was the only person in the world. Like she was his world.

  “Dad!” A little, dark-haired girl with big, shining eyes barreled down the stairs as we passed.

  Rylan bent and picked her up. “Hey, Dee.” He kissed her forehead. “Aren’t you supposed to be upstairs taking a bath?”

  She stuck out her bottom lip. “But I want to be down here with you and Mom.”

  “How about you go do what you’re supposed to do, and I’ll come up in a bit and read you a story?”

  Her face lit up. “Okay.”

  “Now, say goodnight to everyone.”

  She looked at me, and then at Clay, tucking her face closer to Rylan’s chest, suddenly shy. “Goodnight.”

  Clay and I smiled at her, and Rylan passed the little girl off to Jenna who gave her a hug and kiss. It wasn’t until Diana turned to race back upstairs that I caught a glimpse of several round scars on her neck. I didn’t have to be a doctor to know what those were.

  Cigarette burns.

  I felt sick. A glance toward Jenna had my eyes locking with hers. She gave me a short nod, her eyes burning with anger. Our interaction didn’t last long, and when I turned my attention back to the guys, neither of them seemed to have noticed the exchange.

  “Is Jeremiah feeling better?” I asked.

  “Miraculous recovery,” Rylan said wryly. “One day, he’s so sick that he can’t possibly go to school, but after spending an entire day in bed, eating nothing but crackers and soup, he’s up and ready to go the next morning.”

  “Is Jeremiah your son?” Clay asked.

  “He is,” Jenna said. “Ten going on thirty.”

  “Thirty’s old,” Jeremiah said matter-of-factly as we entered the kitchen. “Can I be twenty-five instead?”

  “Thirty’s old?” Rylan asked. “Come on, kid, cut me some slack.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “Never.”

  Jenna ruffled his hair. “Thanks for cleaning up after you and Diana finished dinner.”

  Jeremiah ducked away from her hand, but he was still smiling. “You said I could play my new game if I did.”

  “Did you finish your homework?” Rylan asked.

  “Yep,” Jeremiah said proudly. “And I didn’t need any help with it either.”

  “It’s okay to ask for help if you need it,” Jenna said, her smile softening. “But that’s great that you understood everything.”

  “Does that mean I can go?”

  “Two hours,” Rylan said. “Then it’s shower and bed.”

  He nodded and hurried away, not wanting to waste a single moment of his game playing time.

  “We brought some wine.” I held out the bottle. “I wasn’t sure what kind, so I just grabbed one and crossed my fingers.”

  “I’ll get some glasses,” Jenna said as Rylan took the bottle. “I wasn’t sure if either of you had any food restrictions, so I went with variety. Salad, fruit salad, wedding soup, vegetarian lasagna, and baked chicken.”

  My jaw sagged. “That’s a lot of food.”

  Rylan stopped next to her and put his hand on the small of her back before bending down to kiss the top of her head. “I told her we’d be eating leftovers for the next week, but she wanted to make sure we had something for everyone.”

  “We appreciate that,” Clay said as he stepped up next to me, sliding his hand around my waist.

  Shit. Touching me like we were a couple was bad enough but answering for both of us was what told me that I wouldn’t be able to put off the discussion past tonight. Dinner, home, then talking.

  I took a step forward, then reached for the salad bowl, like that was the entire reason I’d moved away from Clay. If I kept a little distance between us, things would be fine.

  “I understand you work for the FBI,” Jenna said as she poured us each a glass of wine.

  “I’m a profiler, yes,” Clay said as he accepted one of the glasses. “I used to be a guest lecturer at Quantico, but I recently decided I was ready for a change.”

  “Does that mean you lived in Virginia then?” Rylan asked. “How’d you end up in Fort Collins?”

  “I’m actually in Denver,” Clay explained.

  Rylan’s eyes slid from Clay to me and back again, but he didn’t say anything else.

  “Rona mentioned that you’re paired with Raymond Matthews,” Jenna said.

  I raised an eyebrow. That seemed like an odd thing to have taken from our conversation yesterday.

  “I am,” Clay said, his expression curious. “Do you know him?”

  “I do.” Jenna glanced at me, a bit of color coming to her cheeks. “He and I have done some…work together. You’ll probably hear my name from him at some point.”

&n
bsp; She’d done work with the FBI? It took me a moment, but then what I knew about Agent Matthews connected with what I knew about Jenna and the pieces fell into place. She helped him with his child pornography and human trafficking cases. Probably as a freelancer, or an off-the-books hacker.

  For a moment, I wondered why she hadn’t asked him to track down her siblings, but then remembered what I realized myself when I’d gone into Child Services. He was bound by a different set of rules than I was. At some point, we might need some help from someone with some power, but it was better to have me doing the work right now.

  “How is Agent Matthews doing?” Rylan asked.

  As Clay answered their questions, I helped set the table and hoped that he would come to the same conclusion as me. Otherwise, I was in for a very unpleasant night.

  “I like them,” Clay said as we drove back to my apartment. “When I first saw that house, I wondered what in the world we were going to talk about, but they’re really down to earth for people who have an insane amount of money.”

  “Probably because they weren’t born to it,” I said absently as I stared out the window. “Rylan made his own fortune as a software designer. Jenna wasn’t rich before they got married, but she did have her own tech company.”

  “And now she works with the FBI as a consultant,” he said, shaking his head. “Only you would find a way to work around being kicked out of the agency.”

  “I wasn’t looking for a workaround,” I said honestly. “I had no idea she had any connection beyond what had happened to her.”

  “What happened to her?”

  I finally looked at him, surprised. “How could you have been in the FBI five years ago and not heard about Jenna Lang, especially with Agent Matthews as your partner?”

  He frowned for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Shit. That was her?” He glanced at me. “You’re not getting mixed up in all that, are you? That’s not what she hired you to do?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t tell you what the case is, but I can tell you that it’s not anything dangerous.”

  I didn’t add that if Jenna ever asked me to help, I would. That wasn’t his concern.

  Which he would soon find out, because we were pulling up behind my building, and it was time to have the talk. When we got inside, he reached for me, and I took a step back. The surprise on his face confirmed that he and I weren’t on the same page. The hurt said that I probably should’ve done this when I’d seen him in front of my door the first time.

  “Rona?”

  I sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch. “Sit, Clay. Please.”

  He did, but far enough from me that we wouldn’t touch.

  “We’ve had fun,” I began, “but I told you when we first started this, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. You said you weren’t either.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said quietly. “But what we have is good, Rona.”

  Shit. I really didn’t want to do this, but I had to. No matter how much I liked him as a friend and enjoyed sex with him, I didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. With anyone, actually. Maybe, one day, I’d change my mind, but I’d yet to find a man who made me want to consider it.

  “It was,” I agreed, “but we’ve gone back to having our own separate lives. You’re in Denver, working a job that will probably have you spending long hours who knows where. I’m here, with my life. I don’t want to lose your friendship, but if we try to keep what we have, where we are now, I think that’s what’s going to happen.”

  He wanted to argue, to try to talk me out of it. I could see it on his face.

  “Please, Clay,” I said. “It’s for the best.”

  Finally, he nodded. “All right. Friends.”

  Relief flooded me. “Friends.”

  Ten

  I took Sunday as a personal day. We weren’t always open on weekends, but I’d never been the sort of person who did well relaxing in traditional ways. I’d taken the previous weekends as times to work on my laptop, to compile notes, the sorts of things I could do at home. I even spent time cleaning my entire apartment every other week.

  Yesterday, however, I slept in, ate crap food, and did some reading. I was surprised by how much better I felt this morning. Sure, I’d gotten used to being around Clay when we were in Quantico, but I’d had five months to get used to not having him around. But I hadn’t gotten closure until Saturday evening. Now, even though I knew I’d miss sex with him, I felt better knowing that I wasn’t stringing him along.

  This morning, I’d filled Adare in about where things had gone with Jenna’s case, then she’d gone off to some appointment while I’d manned the office. She’d promised to bring back some super-caffeinated stuff for me to drink in exchange for me having to stay inside on a beautiful day.

  When I heard the door to the office open, I didn’t bother peeking outside, but rather called over my shoulder, “I hope you remembered the coffee. I got all of the paperwork done and all your files alphabetized.”

  “I apologize,” a man’s voice came from behind me, “I wasn’t aware that coffee was required for a retainer.”

  I spun around, my foot catching on the back wheel of the chair. I stumbled, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep from falling. I didn’t end up on the floor, but I did end up in a strange, awkward position when I finally raised my head.

  And saw one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen. And considering how hot Rylan Archer and Clay were, that was saying something. Ruggedly handsome, he had just enough scruff to keep him from looking too polished. His hair was a rich brown color and tousled enough to tell me that the wind was kicking up outside. He was tall, well over six feet, and muscled enough to impress me. Then my eyes met his, and I almost stopped breathing. Pure, clear turquoise, like nothing I’d seen on a real person.

  And he was definitely real.

  And trying not to laugh at me.

  “Are you, all right?” he asked as he walked into the office.

  “Fine.” I nodded and managed to straighten without looking like even more of a fool. “Sorry about that.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, it was completely my fault. I shouldn’t have teased you. It’s how I deal with stress. I’m sorry.”

  Stress. Right. He was here for a real reason, not to flirt with me. If he was even flirting with me in the first place. Which he wasn’t. And I wasn’t. Interested. I wasn’t interested in him. Except as a client. That was all.

  “Let’s start over,” he said. “I’m Jalen Larsen, and I came here to hire Burkart Investigations.”

  Starting over. That I could do. “I’m Rona Quick. Please have a seat, Mr. Larsen.”

  He didn’t look much older than me, and from how he carried himself, I was willing to bet that he spent a lot of time having to prove to people that his age said nothing about his abilities.

  “Tell me a little about what’s wrong, and I’ll tell you if I can help.”

  I gave him the same line that Adare always gave our clients. She’d warned me early on to never agree to take a case before hearing the details. We didn’t turn people away because something was too difficult, but we did pick and choose our clients carefully. One of Adare’s first clients had hired her to find his cheating, thieving wife. His words. Fortunately, Adare was thorough. It turned out that his wife had left him two months before because he’d been beating her the entire three years they’d been married.

  “A business acquaintance of mine referred me to you,” he began. “Rylan Archer. He said you were doing some work for his wife.”

  I folded my hands on the desk in front of me, careful to keep my expression neutral. Referrals were good, but I knew I had to be careful. He could have genuinely gotten a referral from Rylan, but he could also be lying. Rylan had money, and Jenna had been in the press. He could easily be a reporter fishing around for a story or even some lunatic trying to get at either one of them.

  He gave me the sort of smile that told me he knew exactly what I was thinking
. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet.

  “Here’s my ID.” He held out the thin piece of plastic. “Call Rylan and ask him if I’m legit. I just ask that you do it now. What I need is a bit time sensitive.”

  I took his ID, scrutinizing it for a moment before picking up my phone. If it was fake, it was the best one I’d ever seen. Still, I preferred to be cautious, especially considering what happened to Jenna a few years ago when an obsessed ‘fan’ had found her.

  “Hello?” Rylan’s voice came over the line.

  “Rylan? It’s Rona Quick. I have a referral in my office and just wanted to check with you that he was legit.”

  “If it’s Jalen Larsen, then yes, I referred him to you. He’s a good guy.”

  “Thanks.” I breathed out a relieved sigh. “Tell Jenna I said hello.”

  “I will.”

  As I set down my phone, I handed Jalen back his ID. “What can I do for you, Mr. Larsen?”

  “Jalen,” he said, his long fingers wrapping around the card, “please.”

  He didn’t seem like he was trying to flirt with me or use his first name to establish some sort of bond between us that would come back and bite me in the ass later, so I nodded.

  When had I become such a cynic?

  “One of my employees didn’t show up for work this morning. He’s been with me for four years, and he’s never just not showed up. He’s never even come in late. By the time he was a half-hour late, his supervisor came to me, concerned. We tried to get ahold of him, but I finally ended up going to his house. When he answered his door, I knew something was wrong.”

  I held up a finger, and Jalen paused. “His name?”

  “Theo,” he said. “Theo Ludwick.”

  I wrote the name down. “Go on.”

  “His daughter’s missing.” Jalen ran his hand over his face, rubbing his cheeks and chin like he wasn’t used to having some stubble there. “Meka. She’s fifteen and has been giving him trouble ever since her mom died.”

  “When was that?”