Tegan trailed off as she stared at the book in her hand. Kayla was busy looking for a ledger or a list of people who owed the Sokolovs money. Something. Anything. Then she realized that Tegan hadn’t spoken again. She hadn’t moved either. She was just staring at the book in her hand.
“What’s wrong?”
Tegan lifted her gaze to look at Kayla. “This is my mother’s book.”
“You mean your mother has the same book?” Kayla couldn’t figure out why it was such a big deal. There were thousands of copies of every book in existence, right? Why was this one different than any other?
“No.” Tegan was waving the book in the air now. “This is her copy. It has the inscription she wrote to my father inside the front cover.”
Kayla shoved the last drawer back into the desk. “Well, other than stealing his computer, which really wouldn’t do much anyway because I’m not that tech savvy, that book is all we’ve gotten from this trip. Take it and let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Carson grabbed onto the door handle of Wrath’s vehicle as the man steered wildly through Boston’s traffic. Wrath glanced over and took one hand off the wheel to stab his finger at Carson’s phone. “Did you get ahold of Nash? Keep trying, dammit! We have to get to him before Bridge and Jinx.”
Carson didn’t share Wrath’s fear that their boss would somehow think they were the traitors. That was just bullshit. Nash knew Carson better than that. Surely Nash could not believe that Carson would go back on his word in such a base and pointless way. It wasn’t like Stedman Hyde-Pierson was paying Carson and Wrath on the side. Bridge and Jinx were the ones essentially taking bribes.
The car careened around a corner at more than twice the recommended speed. The narrow Boston streets gave Carson hives anyway. Riding with Wrath made it a hundred times worse. Carson braced himself in the seat and clenched his teeth.
“This is bullshit,” Wrath muttered.
One more curve and Carson had had enough. “And apparently, you’re willing to die for it!” he snarled. “Would you slow the fuck down? Speeding isn’t going to do anything. We should have called or something.”
“You think I didn’t try that?” Wrath snorted. “That was my first thought! I’m not stupid, you know.”
“No, but your driving suggests that you don’t mind becoming brain-dead.” Carson made a mental note to never again ride with Wrath.
Carson spotted the bulky surveillance truck ahead and tried not to visibly sag against the handles. Wrath slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. The street parking was full. Truthfully, Carson didn’t know how they’d managed to get the surveillance truck a spot. But now Wrath was double-parked beside the trailer. Behind them, traffic started to back up as drivers started swinging around the car when there was room on the opposite side of the road.
“You can’t park here!” Carson protested.
Wrath shrugged and got out. “It’s Boston. Nobody cares. I promise. That’s just how it’s done. Besides, we’re going to be here for less than a minute.”
Carson winced as a horn blared loudly. The driver went around them, his arm hanging out the window with the middle finger extended. “Oh yeah,” Carson said sarcastically. “Nobody cares. I can tell.”
Analise was already getting out of the truck by the time Carson reached the back door. She pointed to Wrath and Carson. “You guys need to go lay low somewhere. I don’t know what the fuck you did, but Nash is pissed.”
“Where is he?” Wrath demanded. He was looming over the shorter Analise, but the woman didn’t give an inch.
Analise narrowed her gaze at Wrath. “He went to talk to Mr. Stedman Hyde-Pierson. The guy is pissed as hell. He claims the two of you are working with the mafia.”
Carson was stunned. His mouth popped open, but no words came out. Finally, he managed to untie his tongue. “That’s impossible. We heard him talking about making sure that Kayla Hyde died at the right time! The guy is dirty. It couldn’t be any more obvious.”
Analise turned to look at Carson. She shook her head, and her expression softened a bit. “You have got to loosen up, Holcum. We all know Stedman is a dirty shit bag. That’s pretty much a given. But we can’t unravel this thing without his cooperation. He was threatening to fire us.”
Wrath cursed. “I bet he would keep Bridge and Jinx on even if he fires the rest of us. They’re all good buddies now.”
“You pushed too many buttons, Wrath,” Analise said irritably. “You know that’s your thing. Just lay low.”
“And what about Kayla?” Carson demanded.
Carson realized that the idea of leaving her unprotected and vulnerable was completely unacceptable. He had not allowed himself to think about what had happened between the two of them the night before. He couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t go there. It had been a momentary weakness. The fact that he wanted to be with her again and again was a whole other thing he didn’t have time to deal with. This was a job, and he was not going to let his physical weakness fuck it up!
“What?” Analise cocked her head to one side and gave Carson a very strange once-over. “You’re acting very odd.”
He cleared his throat. Dammit. He wished he could stop doing that! “I’m not acting anything.”
“Not true!” She crossed her arms and stared as though she were mining his secrets with some feminine intuition bullshit. “You like her!”
Carson would happily pretend he had no idea who she was talking about all day long. “Who?”
“Do not try to blow this off!” Analise’s tone got almost shrill. “You know exactly who I’m talking about! Kayla! You like Kayla.”
Wrath snorted. “No. Carson like likes Kayla. You would say it’s cute.” Wrath made that last bit sound particularly sickly sweet.
“Are we done here?” Carson turned around and walked away. He could still hear them laughing when he turned the corner.
Carson actually didn’t care if Analise and Wrath were done or not. He was done, and that was all that mattered. He’d left his car in a public lot about three blocks away. It was probably a good thing that he had. He needed a few minutes to cool off lest he do something irrevocably stupid. His hand-to-hand combat skills were good, but taking on Analise and Wrath at the same time probably wouldn’t end well for any of them, and he had enough problems to deal with at the moment.
*
Kayla shifted impatiently from foot to foot. She had come with Tegan to talk to her mother about this book thing, against her better judgment. Kayla and Ava Hyde-Pierson didn’t get along as a rule. Ava had made no secret of the fact that she believed Kayla had done her best to drive a wedge between Stedman and his natural daughter. Not that anyone was asking Kayla’s opinion on the topic.
“Come on!” Tegan muttered.
She hit the door buzzer once again. The Victoria era brownstone was located in Boston’s South End. The area was filled with historic homes and quaint shops. It reeked of money, and as far as Kayla was concerned, that pretty much made it a perfect fit for Ava Hyde-Pierson. Ava had grown up with money, and she’d managed it with an iron fist even through a very messy divorce.
The front door suddenly swung wide open. “Tegan?” Ava looked surprised. “What are you doing here at this time of night?”
Kayla supposed that it could be considered late to some people. She kept odd hours since she was self-employed and worked when the mood struck her. Perhaps nine o’clock at night was bedtime for someone like Ava.
Which brought Kayla to a point she could not resist. She smiled sweetly at Ava. “I’m so sorry. I guess we didn’t think about the fact that someone your age probably goes to bed right after the early news.”
Ava shot Kayla a droll look. “You just don’t miss a single opportunity to poke at me, do you?”
“Nope.” Kayla smiled sweetly. “Seriously though, can we come inside before someone tries to shoot us or something equally stupid?”
Ava held the door wide open. “Be my gu
ests.”
Tegan barged right in. Kayla followed a few paces behind. She knew that her cousin was mostly in a lather to get an explanation about the book. Kayla was more interested, at the moment, to see her auntie’s fancy house and posh furnishings. She had never been invited over here before.
“Nice place,” Kayla commented, looking around. “How much does one of these cost?”
Ava cocked her head to one side and smiled. “I inherited this from my parents, so I can’t say that I know how much it would be to purchase. Why? Are you in the market?”
“Not likely,” Kayla scoffed. “I’ll be lucky if I can ever even manage to buy the building I live in from old Uncle Stedman.”
Ava escorted them into her living room. She gestured to the sofas as she took her place in what was obviously her favorite chair. There was already a mug of steaming hot tea sitting on the tiny antique table beside her chair.
“Would you girls like a cup?” Ava asked. She was every inch the proper hostess.
“No, thanks,” Kayla answered for them both. “We’re really just here for one second. Tegan wants to ask you about a book.”
Tegan started to speak, but Ava held up her hand. “I want to hear about this building. What are you talking about? Buy what building from Stedman?”
“He owns the building where my loft is. There are two other renters, so it’s not like I’m the only one paying the rent.” Kayla tried to sit on the couch without getting comfortable, but it was too tempting to lean back into the soft cushions. “I used to think that the building had belonged to my parents, you know? I thought I would eventually get old enough that it was mine. But apparently, that’s not how it works.”
Ava was frowning. “Are you talking about that old renovated warehouse in Southie?”
“Yeah.” Kayla shrugged. “What’s it to you?”
“That was your father’s building.” Ava’s tone was flat. “I’m not kidding. It belonged to your father. Your mother was Stedman’s sister. Your father was not an idiot. He made sure his little girl was provided for.”
Kayla opened her mouth, but no words came out. What was Ava talking about? “If the building belonged to my father and then to me, it would have already passed to me. Right? I’m in my twenties. I’m not some teenager who needs a guardian.”
Ava pursed her lips. “I’m going to look into it.”
“You will?” Kayla wasn’t ready to buy it just yet. “Why? You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Ava sighed. “Things were very unfair when you and Tegan were growing up, but I never hated you, Kayla. You just never seemed to have any desire to be my friend.”
“Huh,” Kayla mused. “Friend. Interesting.”
“Hey!” Tegan burst out. “Can we get back to the real reason we came out here? Seriously?” Tegan was waving the book in the air. She tossed it down on the coffee table. “Tell me why this book was on the bookshelf of an office above the White Russian Bar,” Tegan demanded.
Ava’s expression utterly closed. Kayla had seen a lot of people try to hide what they felt or temper their reaction. She hadn’t seen a lot of people manage to go total poker face in just the blink of an eye. It was kind of eerie.
“Where did you find this?” Ava murmured. She picked up the book and turned it over in her hands. She opened the front cover and read the inscription. “The White Russian?”
“Yes.” Kayla reached out and put her hand on Tegan’s knee. She squeezed hard, trying to make her cousin shut up. Accusing Ava wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “We were looking for some kind of clue that might tell us what was really going on between the Sokolovs and Stedman. We have a hard time believing he turned down an offer to launder money.”
“Good instincts,” Ava said with the hint of a smile. “I haven’t seen that book since the day I filed for divorce from your father,” she told Tegan. “I threw it at him right before I left the house. I had given it to him on our wedding day. It was my favorite book. I had been hoping that he would read it and then we could talk about it. You know, kind of like an opportunity to find something to have a conversation about.”
Teagan looked like she thought that was sweet. Kayla wasn’t so naive. She snorted with amusement. “Yeah. How did that turn out?”
“He never read it,” Ava admitted. “That’s why I threw it at him. What he did with it after that, I couldn’t say.”
Chapter Eight
Carson parked on the street in front of Kayla’s building. It only took him about six tries circling the block for a spot to open up. He quickly parallel parked his car and then headed in the door.
It was quiet and almost peaceful inside. Carson buzzed the second-floor loft. He waited, but nothing happened. A sense of uneasiness began to grow in his gut. Kayla had sworn that she and Tegan were going to be in the loft all night doing something girly. Carson’s brain had immediately checked out after she said the word manicure.
Of course, now that he thought about it, Kayla didn’t necessarily seem like the kind of girl that would go in for the manicure thing. Her hands and arms had been streaked with clay residue when he’d first met her. And last night when they had—well, he didn’t need to think about that—but last night he hadn’t noticed that she wore nail polish.
“Hey.” Kayla suddenly appeared right beside him. She was looking up at him with a very disgruntled expression on her face. “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Wrath.”
“You were supposed to be upstairs with Tegan!” Carson burst out. “What are you doing out here? And where’s Tegan?”
Kayla raised her eyebrows. “Cool the tone, please? There’s no need to be pushy. We went out for drinks. Then she went home. I’m here.”
“Someone shot at you last night!” Carson reminded her. Did the woman not understand the danger she was in? “You need to be safe behind walls at all times.”
“I can’t just stay inside all the time.” She pushed a code into the keypad, and the elevator cranked into motion. The loud droning noise nearly drowned out Carson’s next argument.
“You need to stay inside if I’m not with you!” he snarled.
The elevator halted right in front of them. Kayla stepped in and then grabbed the doors as if she were going to slam them closed in his face. At the last second, she sighed. “Are you going to get in so we can continue this pointless conversation on the way up?”
“It’s not pointless.” He was so irritated with her! Why did she not understand that the rules were in place to keep her from harm? It wasn’t like he made them up on the fly.
Carson took another breath in order to spout off the second part of his argument, but Kayla grabbed his shirt and dragged him down for a kiss before he could get the words out. Once her lips touched his, anything he might have intended to say went flying out of his head. He could think of nothing but the sweet, wild taste of her. She was like honey on his lips, and he wanted more.
Carson wrapped his arms around Kayla’s body and hauled her up against him. She felt so good! Her breasts smashed against his body. He could feel her nipples getting hard with each second their lips touched. He gently ran his tongue over her lower lip until she opened for him. He pushed inside her mouth. Rubbing his tongue alongside hers, he loved the way she moaned and scraped her nails across his scalp.
The elevator dinged. They were on the second floor. When had that happened? Carson couldn’t even remember the elevator moving. There was only the moment Kayla kissed him. Everything else had ceased to exist.
She pulled back and laughed. The low, sexy sound was utterly feminine and totally arousing. Kayla grabbed his hand and tugged him into her apartment. She shoved the elevator doors closed and then turned and led him toward her bed.
“What are you doing?” Carson’s intellect tried to assert itself.
Kayla dropped his hand and pulled her little black dress over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the pair of black satin panties left very little to the imagination. Ca
rson forgot what he was going to protest the moment he saw her bare skin. There was no need to protest, right? At least not unless his body was trying to tell him that his clothing needed to go.
As if the ghost of that thought was all it took, Carson started pulling his shirt off. He had been in the marines for most of his adult life. Now, as a civilian, he was still more comfortable in a uniform of sorts. That meant every day he wore the same black cargo pants and black T-shirt with his combat boots. Now he was busy peeling his cargos down his legs and wishing that he had slip-on shoes instead of these damn combat boots with the laces that just kept knotting when he tried to get them off.
Kayla smiled at him. “Need some help, marine?”
He would have answered, but she chose that moment to kneel at his feet to work on his bootlaces. The sight of her smooth back transfixed him. The silky hair falling over her bare shoulder was too much to resist. He reached down and tucked a tendril behind her ear. The texture was every bit as beguiling as he had anticipated.
“There,” she told him. “I think they’ll come off now.”
Carson toed out of his boots and kicked his pants off. Then he reached down and swept Kayla up into his arms. He carried her the short distance to the bed and placed her in the center of the mattress.
KAYLA HAD INITIALLY kissed Carson with the full intent of distracting him away from the fact that she had very obviously not been where she was supposed to be tonight. Now though, this was something unexpected. This was more. She hadn’t set out to seduce. Except maybe she had. Maybe she just wasn’t being honest with herself. And as Carson covered her body with his muscular warmth, she decided that now wasn’t the time to think about that.
She slid her tongue into his mouth and made love to him in that way. His hands were so gentle. He cupped her face and gently touched her hair as he gazed at her while they kissed. She spread her legs, and he lay in the V between her thighs. She gently caressed his legs and the hard planes of his butt with her right calf. She loved the way his skin felt against hers. He was covered in crisp hair, but it wasn’t too thick. It was perfect. The scent of him surrounded her. He was spicy and male, and she wondered what his skin would taste like to her tongue.
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