A Killing Kind of Love: A Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense

by EC Sheedy

  “Nobody will go to prison.”

  “I’ll bet there’s dozens of guys shuffling along death row who’ve heard that pickup line.”

  “There’s no risk. Not if it’s done right.”

  He shook his head, but she could see he was thinking, beginning to see her logic. When he started to pace the room, Gina walked to the bureau, opened the bottom drawer, and took out the gun she’d put there earlier. She went back to where Adam now stood beside the rumpled bed and held it out to him. “Take it,” she said.

  He looked at the gun as if it were an ingot fresh from the furnace.

  “It’s not loaded. Here.” Holding on to the barrel, she offered him the grip. “Take it,” she said again. “See how it feels.” Powerful. Potent. Deadly.

  He looked at her hand, at the innocence of the dimpled metal grip, and took the gun.

  Yes!

  He enclosed the grip in his hand, studied the cold steel, then abruptly tossed it on the bed. He turned back to her. “I’m not a killer, Gina.” he said. “I’m a lot of things, most of which I’ll take hell’s heat for, but killing …” He shook his head. “No.”

  She nodded, glanced at the gun on the bed. “All right, then I’ll do it for you.” She met his stormy gaze. “It’s another way for me to prove how much I love you.”

  She saw the faint glimmer of acceptance in his eyes, saw how the idea he wouldn’t have to dirty his own hands made the difference. His argument, when it came, carried no passion. “There’s another way,” he said. “There has to be.”

  “Shush, darling.” She touched his mouth with her fingertips, then replaced them with her mouth. Pulling away, she said. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything. When it’s done, you’ll have what you want. All the money you’ll ever need.” Again she glanced at the gun on the bed, the gun with his fingerprints on it.

  And I’ll have you . . .

  Camryn might have been your first, and Holly might have been your second, but I’ll be your forever.

  Camryn entered Paul’s spacious study first, holding Kylie’s hand. Dan followed, wishing to hell he was anywhere but here. Right now northern Canada in the dead of winter seemed preferable to this warm, oak-paneled room where Paul Grantman stood in the center of the room, as cool and hard as a carved stone gargoyle.

  God, he was going to love this….

  “Go see your grandpa, sweetheart,” Camryn said, releasing Kylie’s hand. One thing was sure, by the look of her, Camryn was as reluctant to be here as he was.

  She hadn’t been reluctant last night. She’d been hot, willing, a sexual storm in his arms.

  His gut tensed. This wasn’t the time to think about last night, whatever the havoc it had wreaked on his “cool” quotient. Later. He’d think about it later—when he had her in his bed again.

  Kylie ran to Paul, her enthusiasm undimmed by the tension in the room, and he lifted her in his arms. She hugged him as if he were a god, then took his face in her hands and kissed him square on the mouth. “My grandpa,” she said and put her head on his shoulder. And while Paul got a queer smile on his face, Dan had an irrational stab of jealousy; he shoved it back. The man was Kylie’s grandfather, nothing would change that. Too bad he wouldn’t settle for that without having an ulterior motive.

  Paul put his hand on her head, her silky, little-girl hair. “How’s my best sweetheart?” he said. There was a hell of a lot more warmth in his eyes when he looked at Kylie than at any other time.

  “I had wuffles,” Kylie announced. “Tent made them. And lots and lots of sirp.”

  “Sounds good.” Continuing to stroke her hair, Paul looked over her head to where Dan and Camryn stood, his gaze one big question mark. When Kylie wiggled, he let her down; she went immediately to his desk.

  “She’ll make a mess,” Camryn said, but made no move to stave off the coming havoc. She looked amused, as if introducing their pint-sized house-wrecker to Paul’s organized study provided a sliver of comic relief in what was a grim situation.

  Paul was quick. “Here, honey. I’ll get you some pencils and paper. Okay?”

  When Paul had Kylie settled, busily creating scribbles at his desk with a thousand dollar Mont Blanc pen, he looked at Camryn. “What’s this all about?”

  Dan heard Camryn take a deep breath. “I want you to keep Kylie for a few days,” she said.

  Paul’s gaze sharpened. Dan could damn well see the wheels turning. “A few days,” he repeated. “Considering I’m on your least-favorite-person list, the question begs to be asked. Why?”

  “We’ve had some trouble,” Camryn said. “And we think it’s best Kylie be away from the house until we settle things.”

  “There are two key words in that sentence. ‘We’ and ‘trouble.’ “He went behind his desk, again put his hand on Kylie’s head, bent now over her drawing. “I take it the ‘we’ is the two of you.” He looked at Camryn and Dan in turn, but his eyes lingered on Dan. “You sure as hell didn’t waste your time grieving, did you?”

  “My grief, my business,” Dan said. What Grantman thought of his reply, he didn’t care. He glanced at Camryn, but her expression was set to cool. If what Paul said troubled her, it didn’t show.

  Paul’s expression chilled even more. He went on, “Then let’s get to the ‘trouble’ part of the equation. Particularly as it affects my granddaughter.”

  Before either of them could respond, the door opened and Erin walked into the room. Dan eyed her, noted the weariness in her eyes, her pallor. She looked as if she hadn’t slept or wasn’t feeling well. He knew how much Holly had hated her peer-age stepmother. She’d called Erin her “junkie mini-mom.” But his opinion of Erin, since meeting her, was less harsh. She struck him as tragic, both delicate and flawed.

  She was extremely beautiful, even in the jeans and outsize tee she wore.

  Erin’s glance, accompanied by a quick smile and a “Hello,” immediately flew to Kylie. “Hi, little girl,” she said and held out her arms.

  Kylie rounded the desk and did her hug thing. Erin had dropped to her knees to make it easy. His princess loved everyone, it seemed, and would until life taught her caution and how much of that love she could risk.

  “Can I take her for a while, Camryn?” Erin asked, her tone soft, somewhat shy. She was still on her knees. “I’ve got some dishes for her and a new doll. They’re in the living room. We can have a tea party.”

  Kylie’s eyes widened, and she took Erin’s hand. “Can I, Aunt Cammie? Can I?”

  Camryn studied Erin, then glanced at Paul. She seemed reluctant to let Kylie leave her sight. Which, considering why they were here, didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, but Dan understood the feeling.

  “Sure, honey,” she finally said. “You go with Erin. Have fun.”

  When they were gone, Paul got straight to the business at hand. “What kind of trouble?” He gestured toward the sofa and chairs grouped around a fireplace. They sat.

  “Someone shot out my kitchen window last night,” Camryn said.

  His gaze went to Dan. “You were there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Kylie?”

  “She was there, too. Dan was holding her,” Camryn said. “But she’s okay. We’re all okay. One of the bullets scraped Dan’s arm.”

  “Your arm? And you were holding my granddaughter?” Paul leaped to his feet. “Jesus,” he said again. “And you have no idea who did it?”

  To Dan, the man looked tight as a bow. More so than usual. “No, but Camryn was the target, not Kylie.”

  “We don’t know that for certain, Dan.”

  “Whoever it was shot three bullets, two of them in your direction. That’s ‘certain’ enough for me,” he said.

  Camryn shook a negative. Stubborn woman. “The police think it’s possible it was kids, coming in from the lake, their idea of a prank, but—”

  “But? Paul looked at Dan.

  “I think it might have been Dunn,” Dan said, seeing no reason not to. “He’s a
t the Solari house.”

  “I know.” Paul’s gaze shot to Camryn.

  “You know?” Camryn echoed.

  “Delores called me—not a half hour ago.”

  “I see.”

  “Glad you do, because I sure don’t. I thought I’d seen the last of that lowlife bastard Dunn when he took my check.” He shook his head. “God knows Holly wanted no more to do with him.”

  When Camryn glanced his way, Dan said nothing.

  “If you know he’s here, then you know what he wants,” she said.

  “He wants Kylie.” He paced a few steps. “Or to be more accurate, he wants me to pay him to go away again. But you know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which means you’re in his way.”

  Dan had to hand it to him; the man was quick.

  “Which does not mean he shot out my window.” She stared at each of them in turn. “Adam doing something like that is completely out of character.”

  Dan let out a quiet breath; maybe he wasn’t as up on Dunn’s character as Camryn, but he sure knew a motive when he saw one—and getting Camryn out of the way qualified big time.

  Paul wasn’t so quiet. “Perfectly in character, if you ask me.” He got up, went to stand in front of the fireplace. “And while I take care of Kylie, where will you be?”

  “The Solaris,” Camryn answered calmly.

  “Why would you go there? That’s a hell of a risk. If it was Dunn who shot at you, what’s to stop him from doing it again?

  Camryn looked ready to snap, and Dan already knew her answer. “Number one, it wasn’t Adam who did the shooting, and number two, there’ll be five people in the house—a small horde of witnesses—hardly the opportune time to try and kill someone.”

  Paul shook his head. “I think it’s crazy.”

  “Think whatever you want. All we’re asking is that you take care of Kylie. Will you do that?”

  “Of course.” He looked at Dan, his expression flat. “And you go along with this?”

  “You look after Kylie. I’ll look after Camryn.” He looked at her, saw her frown. “And until things are sorted out, she’s right, Kylie is safer here.”

  “Neither of you is stupid. You know I’ll turn this ridiculous escapade—and your asking me to protect my granddaughter—to my advantage, don’t you?”

  Camryn looked him square in the eye. “We know. And to me that’s a much bigger risk than confronting Adam, but Kylie—if you haven’t figured it out yet—comes first.”

  He didn’t look cowed, but he did look at her with a new respect. “You’re stubborn, Camryn. I’ll hand you that. Not that it will do you any good.” His gaze whipped between them. “When are you going to the Solari place?” he asked her.

  “We’re on our way there now.”

  “Hold off until tonight.”

  Camryn frowned. Dan asked the obvious question, “Why would we do that?”

  “Because,” Paul said, his tone crisp. “Delores will be here shortly after eight, which, by the way, will seriously cut into that ‘horde of witnesses’ you mentioned, Camryn.” When he got no reaction from her, he shook his head, went on. “When Delores called me earlier, it was to tell me she had information for me about Dunn and her daughter,” he said. “You should know what that information is before you head over there.”

  “Why would you want to help us?” Camryn asked, not masking her suspicion.

  “I don’t particularly. But, as you said, Kylie comes first, so for the next few hours, we’ll be in this together.” He didn’t look as if the thought pleased him, more like he was chewing old leather. “If Adam Dunn had a hand in firing a gun anywhere near my granddaughter, I want to know about it.” He headed for the door, opened it, and stood waiting for them to leave. “You know what they say, information is power, so if I were you, I’d wait for my call.”

  Chapter 23

  Ten minutes later they’d said good-bye to Kylie and were outside the security wall that enclosed Grantman’s lakeside estate.

  As Dan cleared the driveway leading from the lake and pulled his Navigator onto the road, Camryn looked over her shoulder at the closed gates.

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. And when this is over, we’ll have her back,” Dan said.

  She faced front again, then faced him. “You don’t have to ‘look out’ for me, Dan,” she said, echoing the words he’d said to Grantman.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “And you’ve been using the word ‘we’ quite a lot. You probably shouldn’t get used to it.”

  “And you probably should.” He turned at the next corner. “I’m hungry. I spotted a restaurant when we drove in, about a mile from here. You up for some food?”

  She nodded. “It will give us a chance to talk . . . settle a few things.”

  “That us-we thing?” He smiled at her.

  “You think it’s funny,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I think it’s inevitable. Have since last night.”

  She rolled her eyes. “One night of sex and you’re into inevitability. Is that how it happened with Holly?”

  “Cheap shot, Bruce.” He’d given a lot more thought to making that mistake than she gave him credit for.

  “Maybe. But great sex aside, we definitely have some trust issues to work on.”

  “How about you tackle the issues, while I tackle a burger.”

  “Food first, communication second. May I be very trite and say that’s just like a man?”

  “You may,” he said.

  She huffed at his flippant reply and looked out the window.

  The restaurant was less than ten minutes away. He found a parking spot, turned off the motor. When he looked at her, she was staring straight ahead, a slight frown creasing her brow. He turned her face to catch her gaze. “Any questions you have, I’ll answer. But before we go any further, you should understand this. I screwed up with Holly, and I’ll regret that—for her sake and mine—for a very long time. But that has nothing to do with what’s going on with us. Another thing, I’m not putting our ‘great sex aside.’ Not for a second. Now . . .” He leaned across her and opened her door. “Can we eat?”

  She didn’t move, continued to sit there looking . . . studious, so he got out and went around to her door and opened it fully. “You coming?”

  She got out of the car, squared off on him. “Only a man can say food, sex, and inevitability in one breath—and get pushy about them at the same time.”

  “It’s a gift.” He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the restaurant door. “Makes up for God taking away our clubs and animal skins.”

  When they were settled at the table and had ordered their lunch, Dan the burger he craved, and Camryn a chicken Caesar, she took her cell phone from her bag.

  Dan sat back in his chair, idly rotated his water glass, and cocked his head in question.

  “I’m calling Gina,” she said, “to tell her I’ll be later.” “Didn’t know you’d called her to set up a time.” He frowned. “Have you considered our purpose in going there would have been better served by surprise?” He took a drink of his water and set hot, questioning eyes on her.

  His eyes were intelligent, warm, and even in daylight disturbingly sexy. Camryn refused to think deeply about last night, refused to deal with the bizarre sense of disloyalty she felt about sleeping with her best friend’s husband. God, she hoped it hadn’t been some Freudian, adolescent maneuver to get back at Holly for Adam. She wouldn’t think about that, wouldn’t think about any of it until her head was clear, which, thanks to a shooting, accusations about Gina, and a bout of wildly exciting lovemaking, it definitely was not.

  “You arriving on the Solari doorstep will be shocking enough, trust me,” she said. “But, as it turns out, I didn’t call. Gina called me—before we left for Paul’s. She said she and Adam wanted to talk to me that she had a big surprise for me.” Camryn keyed in the telephone number but didn’t hit SEND. “But if she hadn’t c
alled, I would have had to anyway, because you do not drop in at the Solari house.” Camryn had a pretty good idea the surprise Gina mentioned had to do with her and Adam’s relationship. Oh, God, Gina, you can’t be that stupid. You can’t.

  “Why not?”

  “The house runs by Delores Solari’s rules. And one of them is visits by appointment only.”

  “She won’t be there, so why does it matter?”

  She looked at him, blinked. “I forgot. She’ll be with Paul.”

  “I’m curious, though, what happens if you break the rule?”

  Camryn clicked SEND. “You could be Prince Charles and you wouldn’t get past the front gate, let alone in the house.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. And so you know, if Delores was there, my sneaking you in would get me banned for life. Inhospitable and eccentric don’t begin to describe the venerable Delores Solari.”

  “She sounds charming.”

  “If there’s an antonym for that word, you’ve got it.” And throw in whacko and narcissistic, she thought, as well as bone-mean and more than a little freaky. Camryn was relieved she wouldn’t be there, for her sake and Dan’s. Every man Delores met was judged as if he were raw meat, and every woman—even her own daughter—was considered competition. Delores was unadulterated ego, pure and uncut. A woman impossible to like. There’d been a time when Gina stood up to her, but not anymore. Not since she’d come home, a ghost of the woman she once was.

  The Solaris were a complicated family.

  Still holding the phone to her ear, Camryn heard someone pick up. “Gina? . . . Uh huh . . . Me too . . . But, I can’t do it now . . . It’ll be better for me after Kylie’s in bed,” she lied and grimaced. “I was thinking tonight, say nine-ish?” She listened, then shot a glance at Dan, who was listening intently to her side of the conversation. “Wine? Sure, I can bring a bottle . . . All right, see you then.”

  She clicked off the phone and slipped it back in her bag.

  “Everything set?”

  “Hm-m.” She picked up her napkin. Gina had sounded cheerful, almost jovial. Because she’s having sex with Adam. That makes most women cheerful. The thought soured her mood.