The Viper

by Velvet Vaughn

  “Good morning. Are you going to work out?”

  “I was going to run through some exercises here in the room.”

  “Is it safe to use the hotel gym?”

  “Sure.”

  “If you give me a minute, I’ll go with you.”

  She tossed back the covers and dashed to the bathroom. He’d purchased workout clothes for her, not sure if she would need them or not. He didn’t think to buy her a bathing suit.

  She emerged a few minutes later dressed in tank top and shorts. “Just let me grab my sneakers.”

  She already had a pair of athletic shoes, so he didn’t have to purchase them. Once she was ready, he slid the keycard in his bag and hefted the strap over his shoulder.

  “Why do you need to take a bag when the workout room is a few steps away?”

  Because he wasn’t about to go anywhere without his weapon. He was about to point that out when she caught on.

  “Ah, your gun.”

  “And cell.” A quick check of the hallway and then they headed down to the workout area supplied with a treadmill, stationary bike and several sets of free weights. The room was empty, so he flipped on the lights. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “Treadmill?”

  He smiled. “Is that a question?”

  She smiled back. “I didn’t want to take it if you were going to use it.”

  “I’ll warm up on the bike and then use the free weights.” He’d end with a run if she was finished with the treadmill.

  She gazed out at the shimmering blue pool. “I wish I had a bathing suit.”

  “We’ve got an Olympic-sized pool at the compound. You can swim whenever you want.” And he’d have to stay far, far away. The thought of her in a form-fitting bathing suit, or—have mercy—a bikini, was enough to send all the blood in his body rushing south.

  “I look forward to that.”

  Making sure his bag was within reach, he climbed on the stationary bike and warmed up. Annabelle inserted the plastic key in the treadmill. He tried not to notice the sleek muscles in her thighs as she started with a slow walk. It was obvious she kept in shape. She was tight and tone and damn, he wanted to run his hand along the sleek curves.

  “Do you think we can get everything done today so we can leave tomorrow?”

  He shook his head to clear the lustful thoughts. “If we don’t run into any problems.” He hoped to hell they didn’t. Annabelle cranked up the speed to a jog and his eyes locked onto the way her breasts swayed with the movement.

  Abruptly, he jumped off the bike, muttered something about his muscles being warmed up and headed for the bench press. Normally, he’d lift with a partner, but there weren’t enough weights on the rack to require a spotter. He added the round disks to each side of the bar and then laid back on the bench to position himself.

  #

  Annabelle missed a step and almost went tumbling off the treadmill. She fumbled for the button to reduce the speed. Watching Kellan lift weights was like watching a master at their craft. His body was a work of art and it was obvious he took extraordinary measures to keep in top shape.

  She moved from the treadmill to the bike—less chance of breaking her neck gawking. He moved from the bench to free weights and even used the chin-up bar. She tried to keep in good shape, but she couldn’t manage one pull-up. Kellan ripped off at least thirty without slowing down. Then he started the circuit again. Before she knew it, she’d biked seven miles. No wonder sweat poured down her face and her legs felt like Jello.

  Kellan finished with the weights and powered on the treadmill. She slid off the bike, her legs moving like strands of cooked spaghetti. Spotting a padded mat against the wall, she made her way over and tossed it to the ground, following it down with a sigh. It felt good to stretch her sore muscles. By the time Kellan was ready to leave, she felt rejuvenated and ready to tackle the day. It’d be tough to visit her home and know that she wasn’t going to see it again for several months. Going through treasured heirlooms from all three of her deceased parents would be tough, too. But having Kellan at her side gave her the strength she needed.

  As they walked back to the room, she made a mental list of the items she wanted to grab, including her father’s military medals and her mother’s engagement rings—both of them. They were in the safe deposit box. There were several items at the house that she wouldn’t leave without, either, including the pearl necklace Rob gifted her with on her sixteenth birthday.

  Kellan opened the door and indicated for her to proceed him. “You can have the shower first,” he offered.

  She opened her mouth to suggest they shower together but snapped it closed. He was technically her employee. Propositioning him might be considered sexual harassment. Damn. She’d be spending days, weeks, even months with the man. How on earth was she supposed to keep her improper thoughts to herself?

  #

  Kellan watched Annabelle rush into the bathroom and close the door. When he offered for her to go first, she’d looked at him with open longing. After having spent the last hour fantasizing about taking her on the weight bench, the padded mat, even against the workout-room wall, he was ready to explode. He’d have stripped her naked and scooped her in his arms in a heartbeat, but sanity prevailed—at least on Annabelle’s part—and she scurried away.

  It was a good thing. Sex would only complicate things. Sure, it’d worked for Sawyer and Harlow. He even witnessed Mason and Cassidy’s relationship blossom. And according to the stories he’d heard about his other married coworkers, they’d all met on cases and fell in love. It might’ve worked for them, but he couldn’t afford to lose focus when there was a psycho on the loose, gunning for Annabelle. Keeping her safe was priority number one. He could beat his libido into submission.

  Speaking of safe, he needed to acquire a bullet-proof vest for her to wear. He’d give her his, but it’d be too big, not to mention against company protocol. He called BeBe’s cell. It was too early for her to be at work, but she’d be able to help him out. He disconnected the call ten minutes later, having spent most of the time avoiding her questions about Annabelle. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to play matchmaker from afar.

  The bathroom door opened and when Annabelle emerged, he almost forgot his vow. She wore the blue top he’d picked out specifically for her and a pair of black stretchy pants. The woman at the store assured him they weren’t just for yoga. He wanted something that she could move in easily in case they needed to run. Her hair was secured into a ponytail and the steam from the shower added a rosy hue to her cheeks. Damn, she was stunning.

  “You can pack your clothes in my suitcase,” he told her as he brushed by her, trying valiantly to ignore the smell of flowers. It was his own fault. He’d bought the soap and lotion specifically for her. “We won’t come back here.”

  After his shower, he brushed his teeth and shaved, and then tossed all of his supplies in his toiletry bag. He gathered the wet towels and arranged them in a pile to make it easier for the maid to collect them.

  Annabelle had all her items folded and stashed in his suitcase when he emerged fifteen minutes later. He added his bag and zipped it up. His laptop slid into the padded slot of his backpack, along with the charger for his phone. Except for spare ammunition and a tactical knife, the backpack was empty.

  He circled the room to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind, left the keycard on the dresser and opened the door. After a stop in the lobby to grab breakfast to go, they headed to the SUV.

  “Mmm, this cinnamon apple muffin is delicious,” she said, licking the crumbs from her fingers.

  Kellan jerked his gaze away, trying his hardest to forget the image of her sucking her finger inside her mouth. It conjured all sorts of lascivious thoughts he had no business thinking. Focusing on the GPS, he typed in an address and followed the directions. He turned when the voice instructed him.

  “This isn’t the way to my house.”

  “I need to make a
pit stop first.” Five minutes later, he pulled into a parking lot and found an empty space close to the entrance.

  “Security Superstore?”

  “Yep.” Removing the keys, he stepped out and then rounded the hood to help her down. Her hand fit perfectly in his, so he didn’t bother releasing it as they approached the building. Automatic doors swished open.

  “Welcome to the Superstore,” a man in a red polo shirt greeted them. “My name’s Ken. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “I need to pick up an order for body armor.”

  “Right this way.”

  Kellan placed his hand on Annabelle’s back as they followed Ken to a service desk. He typed in the information Kellan provided, disappeared in the back, and returned with the items BeBe had arranged for Annabelle. Ken showed her how to fasten the straps of the vest and pointed out a dressing room where she could put it on beneath her shirt.

  “It’s not as bulky as I thought it would be,” she said when she returned. “Can you tell I have it on?”

  Kellan shook his head. “Looks good.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What about one for you?”

  He tapped his chest. “Already on.”

  He signed the receipt, took the bag Ken handed him and they returned to the SUV. After helping her inside, he slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

  “No. Rob wanted me to learn when I moved to Seattle by myself, but I convinced him that pepper spray would do the trick.”

  He opened the bag and withdrew the Sig Sauer 1911 Sub-Compact BeBe ordered for her per his instructions. “I’ll take you to the shooting range at the compound, but in the meantime, I want you to have this.” He showed her the features, including the thumb safety. She listened intently and then took the weapon from his hand.

  “It’s not too heavy.”

  “It’s why I picked this one for you.”

  As she looked the gun over, he entered her address into the GPS and put the SUV in gear. Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to Robert Singleton’s home—now Annabelle’s.

  “You have the code?”

  “Oh, right.”

  She dug in her purse and extracted a piece of paper. She read the numbers and he keyed them in. Nothing happened. “Maybe I entered them wrong.” She repeated the sequence and he made sure he hit the right buttons. Still nothing.

  “This is the number Mr. Windham gave me. He got it directly from the man who reprogrammed the alarm.”

  Kellan read the name of the company from the security panel and using the speakerphone, asked Siri to find the phone number and dial. After being transferred three times, he reached the man in charge. He explained that they were at the house, but the code wasn’t working.

  “Oh, right. That’s because Mr. Singleton requested that it be changed.”

  He exchanged a confused look with Annabelle. “When did you speak with him?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Then you must’ve used an Ouija board because Mr. Singleton is dead.” Annabelle’s jaw was clenched tight. “I’m the owner of the house. My lawyer told me that you were aware of this and that you knew not to give the number to anyone.”

  The man sputtered. “I was aware that you were the owner, yes, but Mr. Singleton assured me that he was also the owner and it needed to be changed.”

  “The Mr. Singleton you spoke to was the reason the code was changed. You’d better prepare for a lawsuit because this is unacceptable.” Annabelle was pissed and he didn’t blame her.

  “Give me the new code,” Kellan demanded as he dug in his backpack for a pen and piece of paper.

  “Uh, sure.” The man recited the digits.

  “Is there a code for the house?”

  “Yes. We installed a keypad outside to hold the new key. It’s the same as the inside alarm.”

  Kellan wrote those down as well. “Now tell me how to reset it.” He jotted down the instructions.

  “Sir, we’ll need the new code to keep on file, in case—”

  Kellan disconnected and reached over to wrap his hand around Annabelle’s clenched fists. She was vibrating with anger. “How could they listen to Robbie? I know Mr. Windham explained the situation.” She turned to him, fear in her eyes. “What if he’s already stolen my things?”

  “Then we’ll call the police and report the crime.”

  He punched the numbers in the keypad and this time, the gates rolled open. His head whipped around at the sound of screeching tires behind them. He threw the SUV in park and grabbed his gun.

  “Oh my God, it’s him. It’s Robbie.”

  He looked in the side mirror to see a well-dressed man step out of a Mercedes. On the passenger side, a tall woman with blond hair wearing a skintight red dress that showcased her ample assets tottered out after him. “Get down. If something happens to me, drive to the house, lock yourself in and call the police.”

  He opened the door and aimed his weapon. “Stop right there.”

  Chapter Seven

  Annabelle’s heart was racing. Robbie had found her. It’d been a mistake to come back to the house, but she just couldn’t leave without her treasured possessions. She snuck a peek to see what was happening. Robbie was standing with his hands in the universal surrender sign. Vespa’s wide green eyes were locked on Kellan’s gun.

  Screw this. She shouldn’t be cowering away. She needed to face her stepbrother, get him to admit his crimes. She climbed over the console and slid out behind Kellan.

  “Annabelle,” Robbie exclaimed.

  Kellan’s head whipped around as she came to stand beside him. “Dammit, I told you to stay in the car.”

  “I need to do this.”

  He growled. Actually growled. “Well for hell’s sake, stand behind me.”

  That she could do.

  Robbie started to lower his arms. “Keep them in the air,” Kellan ordered. Robbie complied.

  “What happened to the man who escorted you from the lawyer’s office?” Robbie asked.

  Seriously? This was how he wanted to play it. “As if you didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t.”

  “His name was Andy Garvey and he’s dead.”

  Vespa gasped. Her red-tipped fingers covered her mouth.

  “You killed him,” she tacked on.

  Robbie took a step back. “Annabelle, I did no such thing.”

  “Maybe not literally, but you ordered his murder. Right before you had Mr. Windham killed.”

  Robbie lowered his hands. “Whoa. Wait a minute. I didn’t kill anyone. I heard about Mr. Windham’s murder, but I had nothing to do with it. How could you think I’d do such a thing?”

  “Maybe because you said, and I quote, “I’ll kill you.”

  Robbie scoffed. “Knee-jerk reaction. I’d never follow through.”

  Vespa grabbed her husband’s arm in support. “Robert would never k-kill someone.”

  She rolled her eyes at the woman. “Wake up, Vespa. The man you married is a monster.”

  Rage darkened Robbie’s features and his fists clenched in anger. He shook off Vespa’s arm and took a step forward.

  “Do. Not. Move,” Kellan ordered, his gun still trained on Robbie’s head.

  Robbie froze and ground his molars together. “Look, I came here to talk to you, brother to sister.”

  “Stepbrother.”

  He waved a hand. “Whatever. But I need you to listen. He was my father, Annabelle, not yours. I’m his rightful heir. You can drag this out if you want, but I’m certain the courts will see it my way. Make it easy on yourself and back off now.”

  “Are you actually saying these words to me? Rob’s will is ironclad. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.”

  “Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you.”

  His face flushed even redder. “Look, we can argue about this, but you know I’m right.”

  �
�Rob wanted me to inherit, not you. You’ll have to figure out some other way to pay back your five-million-dollar debt.”

  “How do you know about that?” he sputtered.

  “Your buddy Bixby.”

  Robbie cursed under his breath. “He’s not my friend. And if you know about that, then you realize I need access to the money to pay him back.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “I’m your brother.”

  “Step,” she repeated. “Besides, even if I wanted to, I can’t help you, Robbie. I don’t have control of anything yet. My hands are tied.”

  “You could give it to me from your personal accounts.”

  She barked out a laugh. “You think I have a few million lying around?”

  Robbie’s lip curled. “I’m sure my father paid you well for your services. I always knew you spread your legs for him after your mom died.”

  “You sick son of a bitch,” she spat, ready to charge after him and knock that smug grin off his face. Kellan threw out an arm and blocked her. “He was a father to me.”

  “He wasn’t your father,” Robbie screamed. “He was mine! You think just because you whored yourself to him and brainwashed him, that ridiculous excuse for a will has a chance of standing up in court? I can guarantee it won’t.”

  She lifted the gun Kellan placed in her hand moments earlier. Robbie’s eyes widened and he took a step back, all bluster gone. Vespa’s eyes widened in fear. “Get the hell out of here now or I swear to God, I will kill you.”

  Robbie puffed out his chest in fake bravado. “You can’t threaten me.”

  She smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “I just did.”

  “Annabelle, Robert needs your help,” Vespa implored. “Can’t you find it in your heart to help your family?”

  “He just accused me of being a whore, Vespa. And said that I slept with my stepfather. That’s not something family would do. You seriously think I have any desire to help him?”

  “He didn’t mean it,” she pleaded. “He’s just terrified.”

  “Shut up, Vespa,” Robbie snarled.

  Ignoring his command, she forged on. “I don’t want anything to happen to him. I couldn’t live without him.”