by Kym Grosso
“If she’s involved…” Garrett began.
“If she’s involved in any of the things he was working on with the plastics, I’ll find out. I’d be the first one to hand you over evidence. But right now, I need to find out what happened that day on the beach. Something is off with this whole thing. Dean won’t tell me…”
“There are people who might not want you snooping into this,” Chase warned.
“Their problem, not mine.”
“All right. Well, just be careful,” Garrett warned, and changed the subject. “Hey, do you mind if I stop by the office before dropping you off? I know it's pretty far out of the way, but Selby forgot her sneakers. Something about needing them for a class tomorrow morning.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Lars asked with a smile.
“You know I love her but she has me running around for her favorite pair of shoes.”
“Why doesn’t she go get them?”
“She’s planning something special.” He gave Chase and Lars a sly smile. “So who am I to say no?”
“Yeah, okay.” Lars laughed.
“Hey, you know what they say, ‘happy wife, happy life’.” Garrett shrugged.
“You guys aren’t married yet.” Chase smiled at Lars.
“Whatever. Gotta keep my woman happy.”
“No worries. I’m not going anywhere,” Lars said. “Get her kicks and then drop me off.”
On the long car ride to the office and back to his home, Lars mulled over his interaction with Braelynn at the party. She couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she denied knowing him. She’d insisted on a clandestine meeting, but had agreed nonetheless, supporting his theory that not only did the key belong to her, but it held significance. He’d caught the flash of desire in her eyes, but it was the fear that tore up his gut. He suspected whatever secret she was hiding was dangerous, and her life might still be at risk.
Lars approached his front door, and slid his finger over the cool glass of the biometric lock. As he pressed through the entryway, a cold wet tongue brushed over his hand, breaking his contemplation. Sasha. A streak of moonlight reflected off her midnight black coat and he fell to one knee, embracing the furry beast that had stolen his heart.
Three years ago, he’d adopted her on a rock climbing trip in the Black Hills of South Dakota. On his way to the cliffs, he’d run into a group of local rescuers at a diner, learned of their mission and assisted as they’d picked up a pack of stray dogs. Although nearly a dozen puppies had been taken into safety, Lars had connected with their mama. She was shaking in his arms on the ride back to the shelter, and he’d refused to leave without her. Knowing that her odds of adoption were low, he’d given her a forever home.
Lars pressed to his feet, and threw off his jacket. Stalking toward the kitchen, he went in search of a drink. Not bothering to turn on the light, he reached for the refrigerator door. He considered a beer to break his tension, but snatched a bottle of water instead. He twisted off the cap, fingering its ridged edges and glanced to Sasha, who whimpered, her eyes darting from him to a glass jar full of bones. She barked in response as he unclipped the top, retrieving a treat.
“Sorry, girl.” His gentle giant bit down onto the large biscuit, and scampered down the hallway with it.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled.
Thoughts of Braelynn spun through his mind. She’d been even more beautiful than he recalled. Embracing her in his arms had stirred an erotic fantasy he couldn’t shake. As she’d brushed up against his chest, her pert breasts had revealed her arousal. He looked forward to seeing her again tomorrow night and hoped like hell she was innocent. Lars cursed to himself as his cock rushed with blood. Jesus, Lars. Just stop. Fuck, I need sex.
He retrieved his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his text messages, his finger hovering above one name. Anne-Marie. Sexy as fuck, Anne-Marie. He’d slept with her a few times, all the while aware the redhead was more interested in his bank account than his bedroom. He was used to women wanting him for his lifestyle. He’d fuck them, go on a few dates and move on. But he made it a rule to never date anyone who worked at his company.
As he clicked her text, a picture of her smooth round ass filled his screen. He smiled, giving a small shake of his head. Fuck. His dick went limp at the sight of the perfect cleft beckoning him to tap her number.
“Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath. It irritated him that he couldn’t shove Braelynn out of his mind long enough to get a hard on.
With a flick of his finger, Lars switched to check his email. After responding to several urgent issues and letting Sasha out for a run, his eyes flashed to the time, noting that an hour had passed. He yawned and made his way up to the second floor, slowly ascending the open-planked stairs. Illuminated by moonlight, the cherry hardwood steps contrasted with the surrounding stark white walls. As Lars reached the landing, he went still and glanced up at the stars through the floor-to-ceiling window that lined the hallway. Pausing to appreciate the celestial reflections glimmering in the peaceful ocean, he caught a shadow emerging from the path that led up from the beach. It faded into the darkness, and he swore his eyes had played a trick on him. Like a sleight of hand, the movement was gone, stillness blanketing the night.
Lars blinked, and continued to his bedroom. Exhausted, he threw his tux jacket on the back of a chair and unbuttoned his shirt. He flipped on the light, and was heading toward the bathroom when he heard it through the silence. A rush of adrenaline flooded him as the outdoor motion lights activated, the distinctive sound of Sasha’s barking coming from downstairs. Intruder.
Chapter Four
Braelynn closed her eyes and counted to ten, attempting to calm her nerves. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? There was a time when a darkened beach under moonlight would have conjured romantic thoughts. But as the wind whipped over her shoulder she shivered, and she couldn’t decide if it was from fear or the cold sea air. She shone the flashlight onto the small strip of beach, and trod toward the steep wooden staircase that was nearly fifty feet away.
Braelynn considered the evening’s events. She’d been shocked to learn that Lars had her key. She’d lost it the night of the accident. How the hell Dean and Garrett had known he had it, she wasn’t certain. Garrett had texted her, convincing her to leave the party to search for and retrieve it. Easy entry, easy job, he’d told her. They’d keep him occupied. No one would be home. She’d been given Lars’ address, the code to his back door and alarm, and instructed how to bypass the security system. Braelynn had been warned as to the dog, assured that the animal was friendly and would accept a treat in exchange for entrance. Lars’ office was located adjacent to the kitchen entrance.
Corporate espionage. It wasn’t as if she had any training. She’d been a biologist, for fuck’s sake. Instead of rescuing seals or helping to protect the ecological sanctuaries of marine life, she’d been forced to learn hard and quick the intricacies of clandestine operations. But unlike Garrett, she was the only one who worked for Bart-Aqua and had access to the stolen research.
HWB614. Her joint discovery with Chase had resulted in the identification of a unique protein. Braelynn had theorized that it could be developed to allow soldiers to retain oxygen in their bloodstream for longer periods of time. The practicalities on land existed as well, enabling humans to survive at higher elevations without needing oxygen tanks.
Within the walls of Bart-Aqua, she’d attempted to steal the research, but her first mission had failed. Concerned that partial files had downloaded, she locked the chip away in a location only known to her. Although it was possible that the key could be replicated, she sought to collect the evidence of her covert activity.
Braelynn had parked her car at a local hotel up the street from Lars’ home, and crossed the street onto the beach. She’d decided against entering the front entrance, concerned someone would see her. After venturing down the long stretch of open sand, her path had narrowed. Up against th
e cliffs, she prayed that the incoming high tide would remain at bay long enough to let her pass through to the staircase. She shone the flashlight onto the sand. Only ten more feet, and she’d safely reach the stairs.
Braelynn screamed as the sleeper wave rolled onshore, taking her by surprise. She lost her footing and collapsed into the gushing swell, unable to fight it. The mighty current dragged her out into the breakers. Sucked underneath the crest, she held her breath and struggled to find her way out of the churning sea. Although she was a strong swimmer, panic registered within the turbulent dark abyss. Her energy drained as she kicked her way upward. Piercing the surface, she sucked a deep breath. She lost track of time as she trod water, bobbing helplessly.
Attempting to orient herself to her surroundings, she searched for the lights that twinkled from the shore. As another large wave rumbled toward her, she ducked into the tube. Icy whitewater swirled around her but she swam with the flow, praying to God she’d reach shore. As she smashed into the hard sand, she fought the returning tide. Clutching onto the edge of the rock, she cried as the water finally retreated. She heaved for breath and shoved to her feet, stumbling against the muddy bluff.
Braelynn had never been afraid of the ocean, but without a wetsuit she knew she was vulnerable. Coughing salt water, she pressed her forehead against the cliff. Gooseflesh broke over her skin as the wind roared. Exposed, she reasoned that she had minutes before she’d succumb to the elements. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she managed to find her way to the stairs. She wrapped her trembling fingers around its railing and began the long ascent.
By the time she reached the top, numbness had set in, and she shuddered. A forceful gust whistled past her head, but she forced herself to continue. Setting one heavy foot in front of the other, Braelynn trudged toward the door, her cold soggy clothes clinging to her skin. She blinked, her vision blurring as her body temperature dropped. Even though her mind understood the physiology of what was happening, she was unable to stop the inevitable. If she didn’t get to shelter and warm her body, she could lose consciousness.
“You can do this,” she mumbled, her words slurring.
As the back door came into sight, a surge of adrenaline propelled her toward the home. Her hand found the security panel and she braced her back against the stone exterior. She wiped a frozen hand across her eyes, straining to read the numbers. They danced, doubling as she fumbled to enter the code. A tiny voice in the back of her head urged her to hurry but she could not process the command.
One. Eight. Five. “No, no, no,” she repeated. Her heartbeat raced as she attempted to tame her thoughts. Eight. One. Five. Three. Zero. Her fingertips fluttered over the keypad, searching for the pound sign. Depressing the button, she grunted, her body shaking uncontrollably. The red flickering light above flashed to yellow and back.
“No!” The back of her head slammed against the wall as she lost her balance. As her legs gave out, she released a jagged breath. A bright light temporarily roused her. Like a deer in the headlights, she froze as the door swung open.
The same piercing ice-blue eyes that had gazed upon her in the hospital stared back at her. Hardened, his lips tensed in anger. Defiantly, she locked her eyes on his, yet her tears revealed her vulnerability. His contempt evolved to concern as he addressed her.
“Dr. Rollins,” she heard him call, her thoughts confused. I’m sorry. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.
“Dr. Rollins, can you hear me? What’s going on?” he asked. His hands reached for her, and she attempted to jerk away. As if he’d been touched by electricity, shock washed across his face. “Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to you?”
“No…” she began. Unable to finish her thought, she closed her eyes, humiliated, a sense of dread rushing through her. Garrett and Dean would prosecute her for certain if she didn’t recover the research. If her uncle found out about her duplicity, it’d be likely his associates would finish the job they’d attempted on the beach. Dread lodged in her chest and a large lump formed in her throat, knowing Lars would expect answers.
“Let’s go, Doc.” Lars slid his arms around Braelynn, cradling her wet form against his body.
“No…” Yes. Oh God, please.
“Yeah, that’s not a request.”
Braelynn inhaled warm air into her lungs and coughed. The clean scent of his skin brought back the memory of dancing with him earlier in the evening. She wanted to fight, to escape, but energy eluded her. He’d demand she tell him what she was doing at his back door. She’d lie. He’d probably call the police. Garrett would deny he’d sanctioned anything. She’d go to prison. With a myriad of disastrous possibilities swirling through her mind, she fought the nausea that rose from her belly.
“Hey there, Doc. You’re going to be okay, now.” His voice softened, a loving hand touched her cheek.
No longer able to meet his gaze, she gave in to the comfort his strong arms provided. She wondered where he was taking her, his footsteps pressing up the stairs. Despite her curiosity, her body fell limp. So tired, her mind wandered, drifting into slumber.
“Hey, no sleeping yet. I don’t know what’s going on with you but we’ve got to get you warm.”
“Hmm, no,” she responded with a yawn. She didn’t protest as he laid her onto the soft bedding. “Yes.”
“No, sweetheart. For a smart lady, you don’t seem to listen very well, you know that?”
“I’ve just…a little nap…please.” The drugging exhaustion consumed her, she was no longer able to fight it. A jerk to her arm alerted Braelynn that her clothing was being removed. Her eyes flew open, locking onto his in panic. “No!”
“Yes.” He sighed, his eyebrows narrowed in irritation. “Dr. Rollins. You’re wet. Cold. Moderate hypothermia from what I can tell.”
“No,” she protested, tugging at the sopping fabric. Confusion rolled through her. Where am I? How did I get here?
“Yes. We’ve got to warm you up,” he argued.
Braelynn’s heart caught as he leaned toward her, his lips within inches of hers. Lars. Mesmerized by his striking eyes, she went still.
“Braelynn…”
“Yes.” Her breathy response emerged in acceptance of her current reality. The long pause that followed stirred thoughts of arousal. This man. Lars Elliott. She’d fantasized about him long before he’d rescued her. And although logic screamed to her that she’d fucked up any chance of ever being with him, it also told her she was in his bed.
Chapter Five
Braelynn Rollins. What the hell was she doing at his house? Soaked to the bone, the damn stubborn woman fought him despite the fact she’d succumbed to hypothermia. How the hell did she get so fucking wet? The ocean? He’d seen the movement at the top of the bluff. Jesus Christ, yes. Lars glanced at the clock out of habit but already knew it was high tide. He shook his head in frustration. What the fuck was she thinking? She could have been killed. One good wave could have crushed her against the rocks or simply washed her out to sea. Even the strongest swimmer could become disoriented at night. Between rough currents and low water temperatures, she’d struggle to get back to shore.
As he cradled her in his arms, Lars forced himself to take a deep breath, to evaluate the situation. He’d caught her trying to break into his house, and couldn’t figure out for the life of him how the hell she’d thought she’d be able to get away with it. On the off chance she got lucky and entered the correct code, there was a secondary security pad inside the kitchen that had to be disabled or else the alarm would sound.
He glanced to Braelynn, her green eyes blinking up at him. The flicker of defiance attempted to conceal her deception. Dark brunette hair clung to her cheeks, and although she’d stopped shaking, her soft lips still trembled.
“You know, there’s nothing wrong with my front door,” he quipped. Snatching a throw blanket off the end of the bed, he laid it over her.
“I’m sorry, what?” she whispered. Her eyes fell to his hands which li
ngered over her belly.
“You’ve got to get these off. Can you…uh…do you need help?” Lars hesitated. To treat hypothermia, he knew he needed to get her core body temp warmed up slowly. Her sodden clothes had to be removed so he could wrap her in blankets. Undressing a girlfriend would not have been an issue, but Braelynn wasn’t his lover. Nor was she a friend.
“I can do it. I just…” she began. Her hands fumbled with the button on her jeans. After several minutes passed, she threw her arms to the side in frustration. “Shit.”
“Look Doctor, as much as I’d like to be chivalrous, you need to get out of these clothes now. So I’m just going to help you off with them.” Lars shook his head, aware of his attraction to her. How the fuck did I get myself into this situation? Do not think about sex. This is so wrong. “I think maybe…let’s start with your top.”
“I can’t. My fingers, they feel…I’m so cold.” She coughed and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. “Get them off. Do it.”
At her request, Lars didn’t waste a minute. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, he tore her shirt over her head as fast as possible. Stealing a glance, he sucked an inaudible breath; her dusky pink nipples pressed through the transparent fabric of her sodden bra. Focusing on his task, his eyes met hers as his palms slid underneath her back, deftly unhooking her bra.
“I can…” she began but went silent as he dragged the straps over her shoulders. Revealing her bareness, he tossed the undergarment aside, and covered her with a blanket.
“Now, your jeans. We’ll get you warmed up. You’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be okay,” she repeated.
Lars hesitated for a moment before his hands went to her jeans. With his eyes locked on hers, he slipped a digit underneath her waistband, fingering open the button with his thumb. She shivered under his touch but didn’t move to stop him.
