by Kat Martin
He groaned low in his throat. April dragged his black T-shirt off over his head and took a moment to admire his hard, perfectly sculpted body, the muscles across his chest and the ladder of muscle down his stomach.
She pressed her mouth against a flat copper nipple and Jonah hissed in a breath. When April leaned up and kissed him, Jonah allowed her a moment of control before he took over, deepening the kiss, turning it hotter and even more fierce.
Scooping her into his arms, he carried her down the hall into the bedroom and set her on her feet beside the bed. It didn’t take long before both of them were naked, Jonah’s heavy weight pressing her down on the mattress.
He kissed her, long and deep. “You sure about this?”
Was she sure? Not at all. She wondered if she should stop before it was too late for her heart. But she wanted this, couldn’t remember ever wanting a man the way she wanted Jonah. She wasn’t sure she would ever feel this way again.
“Very sure,” she said.
Jonah started kissing her and this time he didn’t stop. She was moaning his name, arching beneath him, when he tore open a condom and sheathed himself, kissed her again and drove himself deep inside. Pleasure, sweet and sharp, burned through her and she couldn’t stop a moan.
Jonah kissed the side of her neck. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said softly.
Her throat tightened and her eyes stung. “I know.” She trusted Jonah to keep her safe. He was sure to break her heart, but she had a feeling it was already too late to avoid it.
Seating himself even more deeply, he started to move, slowly at first, drawing out the moment, the incredible sensations, then faster, deeper, harder, exactly the way she wanted him to. She wrapped herself around him and felt the wildness pouring through her, felt the building heat. She had never been so hot, so needy.
She dug her fingers into his powerful shoulders and cried his name as she reached her peak, biting her bottom lip as pleasure washed through her and her body trembled with bliss. Seconds later, Jonah’s muscles went rigid as he reached his own release, his fierce need and driving passion sending her over once more.
They lay quiet for a while, letting their heartbeats slow. Jonah kissed her softly one last time, eased away and disappeared into the bathroom to take care of the condom.
She was growing drowsy when he returned, his hard body stretching out on the mattress beside her. Leaning over, he kissed her and April opened to him, deepening the kiss, turning it hotter, wilder, arousing him fully again.
“I knew once wouldn’t be enough,” he whispered, nibbling an earlobe, then taking her mouth once more.
April’s sleepiness was gone.
Once with Jonah Wolfe wasn’t enough for her, either.
CHAPTER TEN
THE HOURS SLIPPED past and with them came the cold light of day. Jonah had never been good at morning-afters. He preferred to leave after sex rather than wake up in bed with a woman he barely knew. It was the reason he almost never took a woman home with him.
And yet, when April walked into the tiny kitchen wearing nothing but the T-shirt she’d had on the night before, all he felt was a shot of lust that made him instantly hard, and a fierce urge to protect her.
She cast a glance his way, probably feeling the kind of nerves he usually felt, poured herself a cup of coffee, wandered over and sat down across from him.
“Hi,” she said.
His mouth edged up. “That the best you can do?” Leaning across the table, he kissed her. “Good morning.”
April relaxed and her lips curved into a smile. “I wasn’t sure about...things.”
“This wasn’t a one-night stand for me, April. I hope it wasn’t for you.”
Her smile slowly faded. “Last night was wonderful, Jonah, beyond wonderful, but...”
One black eyebrow went up. “But...?”
“I don’t have good luck with relationships. I always seem to pick the wrong men.”
He leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of him. “Maybe your luck has finally changed.”
“I don’t know...maybe.”
“You don’t trust me? Or men in general?”
“I see the way women look at you. I’ve been in that situation before.”
“I see the way men look at you, April. And I think, if someone cared about me enough, other men wouldn’t matter.”
“And you’d be right. I’ve never cheated on a man in my life. I never would.”
Since he had no idea where their relationship—or lack of one—was headed, and April clearly wasn’t ready to think about it either, he let the subject drop. He got up and refilled his mug, brought the pot over and refilled her cup.
“Last night was truly spectacular,” she said. “But someone still wants to kill me. What are we going to do?”
He sat back down and took a drink of coffee. “The trap we set went sideways, but we can be pretty sure one of the people who you talked to last night called in the hit. Probably Rutherford or Watt. Which means one or both of them were involved in Dean’s murder.”
“How do we prove it?”
“We find out why he was killed. That should tell us what makes them desperate enough to want you dead. Once we know that, we’ll be able to find the evidence we need to stop them.”
“Where do we start?”
“I talked to a friend the day we met at the café, someone who works for Chase. Her name’s Tabitha Love.”
“Tabitha Love? Seriously?”
His mouth edged into a smile. “I called Tabby earlier this morning. Looks like she’s got something for me.”
“Did she say what it was?”
“I’ll find out when I get there.” He set his mug down on the table. “There’s a catch to this, April. The kind of stuff Tabby digs up falls into a gray area. She doesn’t tell us how she gets her info and we don’t ask. Can you live with that?”
April’s pretty mouth thinned. “These people are trying to kill me, Jonah. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect myself.”
He relaxed back in his chair. The lady had grit. He had seen it from the start and admired her for it. “I was hoping you’d say something like that. Since I don’t want to leave you here, you’re coming with me.”
April flashed him a smile, apparently glad to be taking some sort of action. She rose from the table. “I need to finish getting dressed.”
Jonah’s gaze went to her soft breasts beneath the cotton T-shirt and the long, shapely legs showing beneath the hem. An image flashed in his head of sliding up her T-shirt, bending her over the table and easing the lust he’d felt since she walked into the kitchen.
“If I had my way,” he said, “I’d haul you straight back to bed, but unfortunately, we’re expected.”
A pink blush crept into her face, but there was interest in those big blue eyes.
Jonah forced himself to think of murder, which always cooled his ardor. “As soon as you’re dressed, we’ll go.”
April drained her mug and headed for the bedroom. She came out a few minutes later in her Walmart jeans and sneakers, holding the little silver clutch she’d had with her at the fund-raiser last night.
It didn’t take long to reach Tabby’s house. Jonah parked in front and the two of them walked up the concrete path to the door.
Jonah rang the bell and waited. It took a couple more tries before the door finally swung wide and Tabby stood in the opening.
“Hey, Wolfe. Good to see you.” Her straight black hair and the Maltese cross hanging around her slender neck gleamed in the sunlight. “Come on in.”
They walked into the living room. “Tabby, this is April Vale. April, meet Tabby Love.”
April smiled. “Hi, Tabby.”
“Hi, April. Nice to meet you. Jonah told me about the murder. The news said it was self-defense.”
Jonah began filling Tabby in on recent events, including the blackmail trap they had laid at the fund-raiser last night.
“Unfortunately, it worked a little too well. A couple of thugs in a black SUV shot up the limo as we were leaving the hotel. Reggie Porter was driving or one of us might have ended up dead.”
“You think someone called them from the party?”
“That would be a good guess.”
“Well then, you’ll be happy to know I found your motive—the reason David Dean was killed. Come on, I’ll show you.” Tabby led them down the hall into her crowded bedroom/office and sat down in front of a row of computers and high-tech monitors. A dozen lights of various colors and sizes blinked around the room.
Tabby worked the keyboard and a series of columns popped up on one of the screens.
“What are we looking at?” Jonah asked.
“Bank account transactions.”
Jonah wasn’t surprised. “Follow the money. Always a good place to start.” He’d wanted Tabby to keep an open mind, take a look from every possible angle, but it usually came down to money, sex or revenge.
Tabitha tipped her head toward the monitor. “That’s a Cayman Island offshore account. It’s in the name of Action Advertising.” She tapped the screen with a dark red fingernail. “The deposits came from an account at the Alamo Bank in Houston.”
“I’m trying to connect the dots,” April said, frowning. “Is Action Advertising somehow involved in the mayor’s campaign?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tabby said. “It’s involved, all right.”
“I’m the mayor’s marketing manager. I work with a lot of advertising firms, but I’ve never heard of Action. Of course they could be doing work for the social media people or something.”
Tabby looked up from her chair in front of the keyboard, the silver studs in her nose and eyebrows glowing in the light of the computer screen. “You’ve never heard of Action, because it doesn’t actually exist. The account is owned by Collin Rutherford.”
Jonah could almost see April’s mind working. “Collin’s in charge of fund-raising,” she said, putting the pieces together. “A huge amount of money passes through the account into the campaign treasury. If he’s writing checks to himself—”
“How much money are we talking about?” Jonah asked.
“To date, four hundred forty thousand dollars.”
“That bastard!” April’s eyes blazed and her cheeks turned red.
“How much is the mayor’s reelection budget?” Jonah asked.
“Six million dollars. Mark’s raised almost five million so far.”
“Of which, good ol’ Collin has siphoned off nearly half a mil.”
“David must have somehow found out what Collin was doing,” April said. “Collin murdered him to keep him quiet, and set me up to take the blame.”
“Damn near worked, too,” Jonah said. “Would have if it weren’t for your stubborn sense of justice.” The admiration he felt for her kept growing. He had never met a woman like April Vale. Probably never would again. As a man who went out of his way to avoid entanglements, it was a disturbing thought.
“Collin was at the Derby the night you were drugged,” Jonah said. “According to you, he left early. Probably waited for you out in the parking lot. The problem is, the setup required two people.”
April nodded. “One to drive my car with David and me passed out inside. One to help him unload us, stage the murder, and drive him away from the crime scene.”
“Collin’s a good-looking man and Peggy’s a widow,” Jonah said. “Peggy was also at the Derby the night of the murder. Rutherford and Watt both believe paying you blackmail money to get you to take the blame is a good idea. I’d put my money on Peggy Watt as the second player.”
“Me, too,” April said.
Jonah looked over at the bone-thin girl with the short black buzz cut. There was a new tattoo—a rose with thorns—on the top of her arm. “Good work, Tab.”
“Thanks.” She walked them back out to the living room.
“You know where to send the bill.”
Tabitha smiled. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Wolfe.” She opened the front door. “Nice meeting you, April. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Jonah walked April out to the Rover. They climbed inside and strapped themselves into their seats.
April shot him a look. “That was amazing, but I’m guessing it isn’t information we can actually take to the police.”
“‘Fraid not.” He started the engine.
“So how do we prove it?”
Jonah could almost smell the scent of his soon-to-be cornered prey. “I think it’s time we talked to Mayor Rydell.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
APRIL PUT THE battery back in her cell phone and called Marge Lamb, the mayor’s personal assistant. The mayor of Dallas was an extremely busy man, usually hard at work in his downtown City Hall office.
Luck was on their side. Today he was working on his election strategy at his campaign headquarters. April told Marge it was urgent she speak to him, and asked her to set up a meeting.
“He’s got appointments all afternoon, love, but if it’s really that important, I’ll find a way to fit you in. How soon can you be here?”
“I’m en route. I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“All right. You might have to wait a bit, but I’ll make it happen.”
With Jonah behind the wheel, they arrived a little early. It was work as usual when April walked into the office, a swarm of activity that would go on until the election was over.
As she crossed the room in front of Jonah, she glanced around in search of Peggy Watt but didn’t see her. Interesting that Collin Rutherford didn’t seem to be there, either.
In her loose jeans, T-shirt and sneakers instead of her usual suit and heels, she caught several speculative glances from fellow employees. Jonah caught the eye of half the women working the phones, but April pretended not to notice.
She headed straight for the mayor’s office at the rear of the building. Marge sat at her desk out front, snacking on a cream cheese bagel.
“Marge, this is Jonah Wolfe. As I said on the phone, we have some very important information we need to discuss with the mayor.”
“I talked to him. I told him you said it was urgent and he told me to send you in as soon as you arrived.”
“Thanks, Marge. You’re the best.”
Jonah opened the door and April walked into the room in front of him. Mark stood up as Jonah closed the door.
“You’re Wolfe,” the mayor said, surprising her. “I remember meeting you. You’re a private investigator. We met through Chase Garrett. He recommended you to a friend of mine.”
“That’s right.”
Mark walked over and extended a hand, and the men shook. “Why don’t you two have a seat and tell me what this is about.”
April sat down on a chair next to Jonah on the opposite side of the mayor’s big oak desk.
“I might as well get right to the point,” Jonah said. “We’ve come across reliable information that one of your employees is embezzling—siphoning campaign finances into his personal account.”
Mark’s features tightened. He never liked to hear bad news. “That’s ridiculous. My people are all extremely loyal. I don’t believe it.”
“We think David found out what was going on,” April explained. “He was murdered to keep him from going to you or the police.”
The mayor leaned back in his chair. “I find that hard to believe. Are you sure?”
“As sure as we can be without looking deeper,” Jonah said. “To do that we’ll need your help.”
“Who are you sugg
esting took the money?” Mark asked.
“Collin Rutherford.”
The color drained from the mayor’s face.
Rydell braced his hands on the table. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying Collin Rutherford murdered David Dean.”
“Him or someone he hired,” Jonah said. “It looks like there was at least one other person involved.”
“These are wild accusations, Mr. Wolfe. Do you have any proof?”
“Not that I can provide at this time. But you have the means of getting all the proof you need. All you have to do is audit Rutherford’s fund-raising account. Look for expenditures to a company called Action Advertising.”
“Action Advertising. I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”
“Because it doesn’t exist,” April said.
For several moments, the mayor just sat there. “Exactly how certain of this are you?”
“I’m a private investigator,” Jonah said. “My sources are confidential and extremely reliable. In this case, I believe what we’ve uncovered is the truth.”
Mark exhaled a deep breath. Clearly he was beginning to believe there might be some truth to the story. “How much money is involved?”
April shifted forward in her chair. “It’s nearly half a million dollars, Mark.”
The color rushed back into the mayor’s face, staining his cheeks an angry red. “Half a million dollars! Good lord! You may be sure I’ll get to the bottom of this—and soon.”
“In the meantime,” Jonah said, “I’d like you to invite Collin Rutherford into your office. I’d like to hear what he has to say when he’s confronted.”
* * *
THE MAYOR’S BODYGUARDS stood just outside the office door. Inside the room, Jonah’s Glock rested in the shoulder holster beneath his lightweight leather jacket. April sat next to him on the sofa against the wall. Wishing she would wait outside, Jonah swore a silent curse. There was always a chance of trouble when you confronted a killer. That said, leaving her out of this wasn’t going to happen. Not after what Rutherford had put her through. She wanted to be there when the shit came down and Jonah didn’t blame her.
