by Kym Grosso
Lars leaned back into his chair and reached into his pocket. Slamming the key onto the glass table, he blew out a breath.
“What’s that?” Garrett’s eyes widened but then he quickly glanced away.
“It’s a key.” Lars fingered the metal object.
“No shit. And?” He picked up his beer and held it to the air before taking a long draw of the amber ale.
“I found it buried underneath the sand. It was in the same cavern where I took her after she was shot on the beach.”
“You’re serious?” Garrett asked, his voice laden with sarcasm. “How do you even know that belongs to her?”
“It’s got the initials B.R. Braelynn Rollins. I don’t know if it’s really hers, but I’m going to find out.” Believing the key had something to do with the shooting was a long stretch but Lars had already decided he was going to launch his own investigation, and it gave him an excuse to see Dr. Rollins. He locked his eyes on his old friend, and continued. “I don’t know if this is a clue or not, but I’m going to pursue it.”
“Even if it belongs to her, it could be nothing. You need to give this up.”
“When Evan died you wouldn’t have given up…” Lars knew he’d hit a nerve by the twitch in Garrett’s jaw. Their mutual friend had been murdered. “Saving her life on the beach that day,” Lars sighed and shook his head, “it was intense. That shooter was trying to kill her. They shot at us too. I didn’t hear her wrong. She knew my name. Now she might want to conveniently forget what she said, tell the police she doesn’t know me, but I can’t forget it.”
“I know what you think you heard,” Garrett countered.
“I heard her. Doesn’t really matter, because the situation isn’t resolved. Why would she lie about knowing my name? Why not at least take two minutes to thank the guy who saved her? Why is she saying she can’t remember anything? Why did the police give up trying to solve the case so quickly? Dean has been dodging my calls for weeks, refusing to answer my questions. No. This ends now.”
“I’m just sayin’ you might want to just let all this go. The club is almost restored. We’re going to have a party soon. You should ask one of the girls from the hangar to come with you. Anne-Marie. The redhead you’ve been seeing. She’s kinda hot. That’s what you need to take your mind off all of this.”
“Anne-Marie’s just a fling.” Lars blew out a breath. It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy fucking her every now and then but she was a release and nothing more.
“All the better.”
“Look, I know my head hasn’t been in the game.” Lars set his attention back on Garrett, pinning him with a hard stare. “It’s why I haven’t been going out. There’s something about this situation. It’s nagging me. I’ve let it eat me up for weeks. I need to know what the hell happened out there even if no one else seems to care.”
“You need to be careful. Setting out for long swims…”
“G, you know I appreciate you worrying about me, but there’s nothing more to say. I was shot at on that beach. Seth too. Dr. Rollins is going to talk to me. Now maybe she doesn’t think she owes me jack shit, but I’ve got news for her; this isn’t over. And she may have been able to throw me out of a hospital, but we’re going to have a long sit down.”
Lars slammed back his liquor and set the glass onto the bar, ignoring Garrett’s eye roll. As the band started playing, relief set in that the loud music made it nearly impossible to hear anyone. He loved Garrett like a brother. They’d been friends for over ten years, their businesses intimately tied. As much as Lars respected his opinion, the lovely little doctor would be seeing him soon. He’d discover her secrets, and the asshole who had tried to kill him would regret the day he ever stepped into San Diego.
Chapter Two
Braelynn’s once steady hands trembled as she stood in front of the floor length mirror. Her thoughts churned as she recalled the day she’d been shot. Although her physical wounds had healed, she remained very much in danger. Closing her eyes, she called to mind the piercing blue eyes that had stared down at her. Lars’ calming presence had soothed her even as she’d lost consciousness on the beach.
When she awoke in the hospital, she’d been shocked to find him still at her side. Cognizant of her situation, the need to protect him had superseded her desire to tell Lars the truth. She’d lied, telling everyone she didn’t know him. It had nearly killed her in the hospital to refuse Lars permission to visit her, but she’d known that initiating a relationship with him would put him at risk.
For months, she’d been working undercover for Garrett Emerson, seeking to expose her corrupt uncle, Armand Giordano, and recover stolen research. When her uncle repeatedly questioned her about her attack on the beach, why she’d followed his shady business associates from the office, she’d played dumb, insisting she’d merely left the building at the same time. Braelynn had explained that she’d planned to visit a friend in Imperial Beach and had coincidentally traveled the same route. She downplayed Lars’ involvement in her rescue, saying that he’d been nothing more than a stranger on the beach that day, one who she’d thanked briefly but had no desire to know.
Trained as a marine biologist, Braelynn had dedicated her life to studying and exploring the ocean, searching for new species. Her love of animals had kept her from taking more lucrative assignments. Observing large fish and mammals in their natural environments, she couldn’t stomach the thought of keeping the great beasts in tiny aquariums for circus tricks.
After obtaining her doctorate she’d accepted an internship in the Caribbean, working with Chase Ellsworth. Together they’d made a key discovery, and he’d convinced her to leave the field to go work for Emerson Industries. He’d explained they could use a specialist of her caliber to assist in the development of top secret technologies that would help the nation’s armed forces. It was in the hallways at Emerson where she’d first seen Lars, watching him from afar.
Having her credibility called into question by the CEO of Emerson Industries had been devastating. Nearly nine months ago their data and samples had gone missing. She’d vehemently denied the accusation, but Garrett claimed they’d had video of her stealing. He’d had a longstanding feud with Giordano, and had initially suspected his involvement. Once they’d discovered Braelynn’s relationship to her unscrupulous uncle, she had no choice but to accept her fate, agreeing to infiltrate his company and recover the research.
Estranged from her uncle, it had been difficult for Braelynn to reestablish a connection. But after several attempts, feigning complaints about Emerson Industries, she’d been able to convince him to hire her, securing a position within Giordano’s private company, Bart-Aqua. Due to their strained relationship, the one condition of her employment was that no one but her bodyguard and her uncle’s mistress knew of their familial relationship. Within the walls of Bart-Aqua, Braelynn was simply a researcher, nothing more, nothing less. Initially working in a lower level position, she slowly gained his trust. With each promotion, she gained access to secure rooms within the building and was closer to accomplishing her mission.
The day she’d been shot, it had been an impulsive decision that had proved far more dangerous than she’d initially thought. Outside her uncle’s office, she’d overheard the strangers discussing an exchange of data. Suspecting they were talking about the stolen data she was trying to retrieve, she’d foolishly followed them as they left Bart-Aqua. As they drew closer to the border, they’d spotted her tailing them. Panic set in as they’d swerved their car and began following her.
Exiting the main highway had done little to deter them. By the time she reached the coast, she’d mistakenly thought she’d lost them. She’d pulled her car along the side of the cliff, hoping to hide inside one of the sea caves on the rocky beach. But before she was able to make it down the stairs, they’d begun shooting at her.
Who have I become? Braelynn blinked, her thoughts drifting back to this evening’s event. Tonight was her first public appearance since
the shooting. Barely recognizing her reflection, she attempted to shake off the stress. The black silky dress, slit up the side, clung to the curves of her body. The scar from her injury could be seen underneath the delicate shoulder straps. While only a small reddened lesion remained, she’d be forever reminded of her attack.
Braelynn ran her fingers over her long brunette hair, her nerves on edge. She’d carefully straightened her naturally curly hair, slicking it back on the sides, and had applied a light lip gloss. She considered her beauty both a weapon and weakness, hating that her uncle viewed it as a commodity to be used as he wished. She was expected to charm clients at his expensive charity gala, to wine and dine with a smile on her face.
Braelynn shuddered as the doorbell rang. Shane Whitman, her uncle’s private security guard, had come to escort her to the party. After the shooting incident, he’d been assigned to protect her at events. At Bart-Aqua, he kept watch over her activities. She’d attempted to flirt to gain his favor. Feigning interest, she’d successfully rebuked his advances, all the while gaining special treatment, which had allowed her more time to look for the data she sought.
Braelynn took a deep breath, the loud knocking reminding her that she needed to go. Wrapping her fingers around the cold brass knob, she painted on the friendly smile she wore every day to work and opened the door. Shane greeted her with a hard stare, annoyed she’d taken too long to answer.
“Your uncle expects us there on time, princess.” As Braelynn brushed past him, he touched the small of her back and she swiftly stepped out of reach, avoiding further contact.
“Pet names are for children and lovers.” She turned to meet his gaze, giving him a coquettish smile, concealing her irritation. “And last I checked, neither applies.”
“While you do intrigue me with your fiery responses, I prefer princess.”
“Don’t break our deal, Shane. You’re one of the few people at the office who calls me Braelynn.” Within the sterile corporate environment, staff had been directed to call her Dr. Rollins. While she hadn’t been comfortable with the formality, the rules were strictly enforced. Braelynn glanced around Shane, taking in the sight of the stretch limo.
“We can’t be late. Your uncle is a stickler for punctuality.”
“I know my uncle better than anyone, and I also know traffic on the I-5. This time of night, it should be clear. We have plenty of time.” Reining back her anger, she allowed Shane to shut the front door, and approached the waiting car, hoping she didn’t topple over in her three-inch heels. She gave the driver a brief smile as he ushered her into the limo.
“Why are you so contrary this evening?” Shane slid inside, sidling up next to Braelynn.
“I’m sorry. I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“You work too much.”
“So does everyone else. I don’t want to be treated any differently.” Braelynn’s stomach clenched as he ran his hand along the side of her thigh. Ignoring his advance, she reached for the console and moved to the seat across from him. She’d rather ride backwards and stare at his face for the next twenty minutes than allow him to touch her again.
“You were injured.”
“I’m fine now.”
“I’m just sayin’. Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped back into work this week.”
“I need this.” Braelynn didn’t have time to wait until she healed emotionally. Critical research was on the line to be sold, and Garrett never ceased the pressure, expecting her to retrieve it in a timely fashion.
Braelynn clutched her champagne flute, scanning the room, taking in the sight of the elegant affair. Violet orchid arrangements sat atop white table linens. Sparkling white lights danced throughout the potted palm trees that lined the seaside patio. The roar of the ocean was offset by music streaming from the live band playing on the stage.
As she made her way across the deck, smiling at guests, Braelynn sensed the eyes watching her every movement. Shane had assured her that none of her coworkers knew of her shooting but she couldn’t be certain the rumor mill hadn’t carried the news. Shrinking into the darkness, Braelynn leaned against the railing and turned to the beach, captivated by the flickering lights of a passing ship.
“We meet again, Dr. Rollins.” The sound of his smooth voice sent shivers over her skin.
Lars Elliott. CEO of DLar-Tech. Extreme sports enthusiast. Never without a date, but not committed to any one woman, the charismatic leader was well known for his altruistic contributions to environmental programs that supported sustainability of aquatic communities.
As her eyes met his, she struggled to remain calm. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She hadn’t seen him since the hospital. Dressed in his black tuxedo, he was far more handsome than she remembered. His striking blue eyes penetrated her. Tanned, his skin glowed in the light of the gas heaters that warmed the night air. Resisting the urge to reach for him, she dug her fingernails into the wooden railing.
“Cat got your tongue? No ‘hello’ for the man who saved you? No ‘thank you’?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Lars Elliott.” Lars raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Mr. Elliott,” she began. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
“Lars. It’s what you called me that day on the beach. You do recall it?” he asked. A small smile formed on his lips, yet his dark eyes warned he was serious.
Braelynn forced her gaze toward the shore, afraid that he’d read her expression. She’d come too far to let her crush on the adventurer keep her from attaining her goal. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping neither her uncle nor Shane could see her speaking to him. His voice snapped her attention back to the conversation.
“You know, this type of behavior could be construed as rude.” He gave a small laugh and reached for a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray.
“I didn’t mean…” Braelynn’s gut twisted at his words.
“But you see,” his voice never wavered as he paused to take a sip of his drink, “I’ve learned that people aren’t always who they appear to be.”
“I’m sorry but I’m not sure what you mean. I’m exactly who I am.” Braelynn nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“And who is that, Doctor?” He cocked his head and smiled. “Are you the marine biologist who worked in the Caribbean? The one, who as a grad assistant, did a stint in South Africa researching sharks off Cape Town? Or the researcher who now works at a biotech company?”
“Seal Island. I was only there for a month,” Braelynn corrected him. It had been the most amazing four weeks of her life, documenting great white behavior. “My current occupation is far safer.”
“Interesting you should say that, because as I recall you were shot on a beach recently. Seems much more dangerous. How’s the shoulder?” Lars edged next to Braelynn, his attention moving to the waves crashing loudly onto the rocks.
A quiver ran through her as his jacket brushed her dress. She took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of his masculine aftershave. Jesus, she thought she’d learned to command her emotions.
“My shoulder…my shoulder,” she stammered, slowly lifting her lids. There were days the residual pain haunted her, but the doctors assured her it would fade with time. “It’s fine.”
“You look gorgeous tonight.”
“Mr. Elliott, I…” The compliment took her off guard. How could he possibly be interested in her after the way she’d treated him, ignored him?
“Lars.” He set his glass down on the railing and swiveled to face her.
“Lars?” Braelynn repeated. Her cheeks heated, causing her to briefly avert her gaze. Summoning courage, she turned back and locked her eyes on his. “I’m sorry I didn’t thank you in the hospital. You have to understand. Sometimes we do things…things that don’t make sense. I needed my privacy. I couldn’t meet with strangers.” She exhaled, knowing the lie was laced with the truth.
“I found you on the beach, stayed with you.” His voice
softened. “I waited during your surgery. Then you had the infection. When you woke up…”
“Thank you.” She gave him a small smile, wishing she could tell him how much she appreciated all he’d done for her. If he hadn’t been there that day, the killer may have finished the job.
“We need to talk, doctor.”
“I think we’ve said all we should say.” The band resumed playing and she looked to the stage. Fly Me to the Moon echoed in the night.
“Dance with me.” Lars extended his hand. While his gesture implied asking for consent, the tone of his voice told her it wasn’t a request.
“I can’t. This is a company function. What if they…” They see us? They suspect I know you? It was a stupid risk, she knew, yet she lost the words to refuse.
“Sinatra,” he commented, pulling her closer. He took her glass and set it aside.
“Um, yes.” Braelynn gave in to her secret craving, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
“Ol’ blue eyes.” He smiled.
“Like yours.” The words fell off her lips before she had a chance to stop them. Her nipples strained against the silk, and even though she knew he’d see the physical evidence of her desire, she made no move to leave. She closed her eyes, the heat rushing to her cheeks. Holy hell, Brae, you sound like a schoolgirl. You need to walk away now. You’re going to fuck this up. “Mr. Elliott…”
“We’re back to that again, are we?” Lars laughed and spun them in a gentle circle. “Here’s the thing, doctor. I have questions.”
“I already talked to the police.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Did you go to them?” He knows all about me. Her pulse raced in fear as her arousal faded.
“You sound surprised.”
“I can’t tell you anything.” Braelynn tried to pull out of his embrace but he held her tight.
