Roark: The Donovan Dynasty Book #2

by A. C. Arthur

  “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Ms. Rayder. I’m Detective Donald Gibbons. I work for MPD as well, but I’m from the Major Investigation Unit. I’m sure Mr. Donovan has mentioned speaking to me before.”

  “He hasn’t.” Her tone was even, her gaze distrustful. “We’re not in the habit of discussing policemen.”

  “Well, it’s a shame to be having this conversation.” Pennington interrupted. “But there are some questions I need to ask about yesterday’s fire.”

  “Why are you here?” Roark asked Gibbons directly.

  The man had the audacity to smile. “I want to hear the answers to those questions.”

  Pennington cleared his throat. “Ms. Rayder, you just arrived in Painswick, correct?”

  “I came to visit my mother and I’ve been here for a week.” She was calmer than Roark would’ve expected, but then, she was probably used to talking with police and other firefighters in her line of work.

  Pennington pulled out a notepad and pen and began scribbling something. Gibbons kept his gaze on Roark, and Roark resisted the urge to punch the guy in the face. “Your mother and father own that house. It’s normally a rental, but I see your mother made it her permanent residence about a year ago.” Pennington looked up at her and waited for her response.

  She nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

  “But this is the first time you’ve visited?” he pressed.

  There was only a moment’s hesitation on her part. “That is also true.”

  Gibbons sat forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees. “How do you two know each other?”

  “We’re sleeping together,” Tamika snapped. “Isn’t that what you’re already thinking?”

  That flash of spunk was another thing for Roark to admire about her.

  Gibbons didn’t even blink as he glared at Roark. “Your wife’s in London. Did you know that? I had a nice chat with her before I was called to come here.”

  “My ex-wife is able to go where she pleases,” Roark replied. He really didn’t like this guy at all.

  “But you come here to this big, fancy country house of yours and meet up with your new girlfriend just a couple of weeks after your mother is killed in a fire at her house. And bam, your girlfriend’s mother is almost killed in a fire at her house as well. That’s some coincidence.” Gibbons was nodding, his keen eyes going from Roark to Tamika, then settling on Roark once more.

  “I came here to relax after a very trying time.” That was as much of an explanation as Roark planned to give.

  “And I came to visit my mother,” Tamika said.

  “But there was a fire and your mother’s now in the hospital, is that correct?” Gibbons wasn’t finished with his questions.

  Tamika sat back and placed her hands in her lap. “That is correct.”

  Gibbons shrugged. “You two really don’t see the coincidence here? I find that hard to believe, because you’re so smart, aren’t you, Roark? You just made a big move from one business to another, added your mother to that stock which, according to her will, all reverts back to you and your siblings. There’s also a hefty life insurance policy to go along with the rest of her estate. That again falls to you as her personal representative.”

  “And you, Ms. Rayder,” Pennington picked up as if the two had planned this little tag-team scenario. “Your mother also has a sizable life insurance policy, and the cottage is worth a decent amount. Nothing nearly as significant to gain as Mr. Donovan here, but considering you lost your job two weeks ago, and the lease on the apartment where you were staying—which was actually in the name of a Colin Hopkins—was up earlier this month, you’re hurting for cash and a place to live right now. Not to mention you’re experienced in this area. If anybody would know how to set a fire, it would be you.”

  “First, a ten-year-old could start a fire and end up burning down a house by mistake. It’s not rocket science. Second, I’m not hurting for anything,” Tamika replied. “And I have a BA in criminal justice, along with my certification as a fire investigator. I’d say I’m pretty employable, so definitely not desperate in any way.”

  “I’d say you’re both lying,” Gibbons announced. “After your break-up with Mr. Hopkins and his refusal to continue paying to keep a roof over your head, you were indeed desperate to find a place to live and someone else to take care of you. You somehow heard of Maxine Donovan’s death and came here posthaste to shack up with Mr. Money Bags. He told you how to kill your mother for her insurance. Only, you messed up yesterday because you didn’t anticipate that housekeeper coming home and saving your mother. Now, you’ve got to figure out what to do that won’t make you look even guiltier.”

  The detective’s reach to find motive had so many holes in it, Roark wanted to laugh at the effort. Unfortunately, rage at the man’s audacity and overall dislike for both detectives at the moment had Roark standing instead. “That’s preposterous, and you know it. And I’m done entertaining both of you. I want you out of my house. Now!”

  Pennington had the good sense to look shocked as Roark raised his voice, while Gibbons continued giving Roark a smug sneer. Enough so that Roark took a step toward the couch, where the detectives had remained seated after his directive.

  Pennington stood next, smoothing his tie again. “We just have a few more questions. Ms. Rayder, maybe you’d prefer to come down to the station house with me?”

  “Perhaps you should contact her solicitor to request another meeting,” Roark said to Pennington and prayed Tamika didn’t say anything to contradict him.

  She didn’t. In fact, she came to stand beside him and echoed his declaration. “I won’t be talking to you again without an attorney.”

  Now Gibbons stood, his flinty eyes narrowed on Roark. “I know who your solicitor is, Donovan. Just like I know I’m going to bring your ass down for this. Don’t think for one minute that your money’s going to get you out of a murder charge.”

  “Don’t think for one minute that I’m going to be intimidated by you. Now, Geoff will show you out.” Roark wasn’t intimidated, he was pissed the hell off.

  As if on command, Geoff appeared in the doorway.

  “Here’s my card if you wish to contact me.” Pennington pulled a card from his inside jacket pocket and extended it to Tamika.

  She accepted it with a cordial nod. “I’ll give it to my attorney.”

  Chapter 10

  Six hours, a hot bath and a nap later, and Tamika was still irritated as hell.

  How dare those detectives think she planned to kill her mother. Hadn’t she sat at the hospital for hours after the fire last night, waiting with her heart in knots to see if her mother was going to survive? Hell, hadn’t she tried to run into the burning cottage to get her mother the moment she’d arrived on the scene? How could any of those actions be construed as someone who’d intentionally set fire to the place with the intention of killing the one blood relative she had left on this earth?

  Her fingers were still shaking with rage as she pushed her arms through the plum-colored dress and let the soft material slide over her body. This was a dress she owned, one of the few things that didn’t smell like smoke, because even though most of her clothes had still been in her suitcase and duffel bag, in a room all the way down the hall from her mother’s, the heavy clouds of smoke had still managed to permeate them. Clicking the link Lily had provided and shopping on the CKDavis Design website had provided a little calm to the stormy afternoon she’d had. And just as Lily had promised, the boxes of clothes Tamika had selected had been delivered within an hour of her clicking “place order.” She suspected that had something to do with the fact that Roark was paying for the clothes and that she wasn’t some random customer. While the thought of Roark buying her clothes had bothered her earlier this morning, after enduring the unfounded speculation that she and Roark had somehow conspired together to commit murder by the detectives, she’d decided to shop until her heart was content and hadn’t felt one ounce of guilt when it
was done.

  After those detectives had left, Tamika had been a roller coaster of emotions. Roark had wanted to talk to her, but she hadn’t been in the mood. They’d asked too many stupid questions, had made predictable assumptions and were dead wrong on all accounts. But no amount of pacing in this room, plopping down into the chair and switching on the TV she never actually watched, or gritting her teeth in anger, was going to stop the ball that’d already started running in their mind. Just like Roark and his siblings, Tamika was now a suspect in an arson case. How ironic was that?

  She’d worked so hard to build a successful career and to maintain her father’s respect in the field of fire prevention and investigation. It was something that had brought them even closer in her adult life. The last thing she’d ever do was disgrace him and his life’s work the way the detectives had assumed she had. And it was her mother, for crying out loud! She’d never kill her mother for money! Who did they think she was, one of those unbalanced women on those true crime shows like Snapped? No, if that were the case, she would’ve directed her rage at Colin, which for a while she’d wanted to do. But even that jackass hadn’t warranted her ruining her life to set him on fire.

  Speaking of the gray-eyed devil, she snatched her phone from the nightstand where she’d had it on the charger and checked her text messages. Nothing. She sighed and gave silent thanks to the heavens.

  If the detectives knew about Colin, there was a good chance they’d reach out to the cops in Arlington to find out more information. And the cops in Arlington might just go down to Colin’s shop and have a little chat with him. Especially since a Black man who was also a former drug dealer turned barber shop owner and landlord to several properties in the city was just the type of guy the cops loved to question, for no other reason than because he fit some type of description. And if Colin got hauled down to the police station because of her, Tamika had no doubt his demented ass would waste no time giving her grief about it. In the two years they’d been together, Colin’s favorite pastime had been giving her grief about one thing or another.

  Huffing out her next breath, because she really couldn’t believe the crazy turns her life had taken in the past few years, Tamika dropped her phone into the pocket of her dress—she loved comfortable dresses with pockets—and slid her feet into a pair of flat leather sandals.

  She walked through the room that should’ve made her feel like a pampered princess, but instead reminded her of the precarious situation she was now in, and opened the door. The hallway was bright with the large chandeliers that stretched along its path. Thick Aubusson rugs lined the floors, and paintings of what was probably the scenic English countryside were on the walls. All things she found it hard to appreciate, considering how she’d ended up being here.

  Taking the stairs, she tried to clear her thoughts. She needed air and space from everything that was going on, if only for a few moments. Those thoughts carried her out the front door and down the smooth cement steps in front of the clubhouse. It had grown dark in the time she’d been shut in her room, and a cool breeze was blowing. She had no idea where to go or what to do at this point, so she simply turned to the left and began walking along a stone pathway.

  Outside flood lights mounted along the house were a perfect mix of old and new, but she was grateful for them; otherwise, she’d have been drenched in darkness by the time she made it to the edge of the enormous house. There was grass straight ahead, small hills and big hills and more grass. To her right, the path continued to a raised area she thought might be the gardens Roark had spoken of earlier. Taking a chance, she moved to her right and smiled when she came upon an archway made of flowers and a black iron gate. Everything here seemed so ornate and elegant. She would’ve never pictured herself enjoying a place like this, but right at this moment, she felt giddy with excitement at seeing what was beyond the gate. Lifting the latch, she eased the gate open and entered a place she knew would be breathtaking during the day.

  Since it was evening, there were twinkle lights strategically placed on the ground to illuminate the flowers or twisting vines along the wall of greenery. Feeling like she was entering a maze, Tamika continued to stroll, inhaling the fresh floral scents. She wasn’t really big on flowers, had never received any from the guys she’d dated and hadn’t seen them a lot in her home while she was growing up.

  There was something pink just around the corner she’d turned, bursting from the green along the wall in a spray of color and scent. She stopped when she was close to the wall and leaned in to inhale deeply.

  “I grew up smelling flowers every day and in every room of our house.”

  She startled at his voice, slapping a hand to her chest as she turned to see him standing just a few feet away.

  “Sorry. I should’ve announced myself.”

  “You shouldn’t be following me around in a garden at night,” she snapped as she tried to regulate her breathing after being scared out of her mind.

  “I guess you’ve got a point.” Leave it to Roark to not give in totally.

  Since the moment with these fragrant pink flowers was lost, she continued walking. “Have you been following me since I left the house?”

  “No. Dorianne’s dying to feed us, so I came up to your room to get you for dinner, but you weren’t there. You don’t have a car here and nobody had called one for you, so I assumed you were walking.”

  “This place is huge, Roark. How would you know I came here?” She felt like those detectives questioning everything now.

  “When I came out, I saw you walking toward the gardens. I wasn’t following you, just making sure you were alright.”

  And she was being a jerk. She pushed both her hands into her pockets and looked over at him. “Sorry. I’m in a bad mood.”

  “Understandable. I’ve been in a pretty crappy mood since they left, as well.”

  “I don’t normally let people dictate my attitude, but I can’t believe they think we’re killers, or at the very least orchestrators of a murderous plot for money.”

  Roark chuckled. “The latter title sounds better.”

  She smiled, letting his lighter tone filter over her. “I have to figure out what’s going on. I know this is connected to my father’s death. I brought my files from the house, so I’m going to start looking at them as soon as I get back inside. The sooner I get to the bottom of this, the better for both of us.”

  He touched her hand at that moment, holding it until she stopped walking. “I think it’ll be better for both of us the sooner I get this out of the way.”

  Tamika opened her mouth to question his cryptic words, and he swooped down, crashing his lips into hers, igniting the fire she’d known was on a low simmer between them.

  If that sounded like a superhero entering the scene, that was precisely what it felt like. The moment his lips touched hers, the out-of-body experience began. His tongue eased inside her mouth with the intention of claiming and did an excellent job. She closed her eyes, melting into him, letting her tongue slide along his, tilting her head so she could take more of him. He’d dropped her hand at some point, his fingers now scraping along her scalp as he pushed through her hair, holding her face to his. He pulled back, just long enough so they could both take a quick breath before he plunged right back in. This time, her hands came up to quickly grasp his biceps and squeeze. Or rather, hold on, because her knees were now buckling. He felt so hard and strong beneath her touch. His hands moved to her shoulders, then down her back, where one continued until he was cupping her ass. She pressed into him, opening her mouth wider as he sucked her tongue. His dick was hard; she could feel it pressing into her belly, and her thighs quivered.

  He was devouring her mouth, sucking first her tongue, then her lips, licking the top lip and then the bottom, teasing her tongue until she was reaching for him, licking and sucking along his lips in a silent duel for more. Her hands moved up from his biceps to his strong shoulders. He wore a long-sleeved shirt that fit every dip and bulge
of his physique.

  Both his hands were on her ass now, pressing her into his erection. When she gasped for air, he pulled on her dress, inching it up her legs.

  “What… Are we… Out here?” She could barely think straight, so it made sense that her words were coming out in a jumble.

  “Not out here. I just need to…to do this, right now.” He didn’t sound like his words were coming much easier, but they both forgot about that when he pushed her against the flowered wall and his hands ran along the bare skin of her ass, down to her thigh, then back up to her ass again.

  His lips were on hers in seconds, this kiss hungrier, deeper than the other two had been. Frankly, she didn’t give a damn how the kisses were described. All she knew was that she wanted every second of it to continue.

  “Just need to…touch…you.”

  Well, shit, he’d been touching her. The scorch marks from his hands were all up and down her back and on her ass. What else could he possibly be thinking of touch…

  The word died in her thoughts as his hand moved around to slip between her thighs. She adjusted, spreading them a little wider, but he knew where to go. He cupped her pussy first, his full hand grabbing her and holding until she thought she might come simply from the heat his touch was infusing.

  “Damn!” He seemed to choke the word out before his fingers eased to the side, finding the band of her panties. Pushing the cloth aside, he pressed his fingers between her already wet folds.

  Roark obviously knew what he wanted and how fast he wanted to get there, because there was no preamble to his fondling. He pushed past her pussy lips, grazed over her puckered clit and thrust his finger inside her within a three-second time span.

  “I knew you’d be wet,” he said and then made a low growling sound that had Tamika pumping into his hand. “Fuck! So wet!”