Kiss Across Deserts

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  There was a small silence. “Do they think you had something to do with the hit and run?”

  “They’re not saying.”

  “That just means they haven’t got a clue right now.” Rafe swore softly.

  “I don’t suppose they do. The whole thing is very strange. Even I don’t have a clue,” Alex confessed.

  “I’ll be there in forty minutes. Cooperate if they ask questions, but let them know I’m coming.”

  Alex put his phone away, feeling slightly happier. An appeal court judge descending upon them would stir the police into a faster investigation, if nothing else.

  Chapter Eight

  Even the first ten minutes of the forty Alex needed to wait for Rafe to arrive seemed to crawl endlessly. It was the first time he could remember experiencing time subjectively since becoming a vampire.

  Sitting in the cold room alone gave him far too much time to think about the battlefield that was his life at the moment. Crises and disasters scattered across it and he had no idea how everything had seemed to blow up so suddenly.

  He kept returning to the kiss. Sydney’s kiss.

  That was another catastrophe in the making. How had he let it happen? Normally, he was in control of things and events played out in an orderly, systematic way that helped with his research and kept his life flowing smoothly and uneventfully. He had grown accustomed to that graceful pace.

  He had grown used to Sydney turning him down, even though his hope that she might one day change her mind lived in the back of his mind like a pilot light turned down low. Why had she chosen now, though? Why this day? It complicated matters in a way that he knew he would have to deal with, at least in his own head, when he had time to think somewhere far away from this place.

  Had he let the kiss happen? She had moved fast, but not faster than his perceptions could track. He had watched her lean toward him and for a moment he’d genuinely wondered what she was doing. It had not occurred to him that she might kiss him. Sydney and kisses were something that lived chained in the same back room in his mind, to be brought out and examined when he was in the mood for self-torture (and that was more and more often lately, wasn’t it?).

  When he had recognized that she was about to kiss him, he had been so surprised he hadn’t thought to halt it. Then he shook his head, swearing silently. Of course he could have halted it. He hadn’t wanted to.

  The real kiss was far better than any he had rehearsed in his imagination. Responding had been instinctive, driven by the pleasure her kiss generated. And that was another problem. He should have pushed her gently away. Explained himself. Instead he had to look into her eyes and to find a way to remove the dawning hope and happiness in them.

  He dropped his head into his hands and squeezed his temples. What a ruin this was!

  The door opened and he looked up, grateful for any distraction that would take him away from his thoughts. Sydney leaned into the room and beckoned. “They’ve agreed you can wait in my office,” she said. “I’ve got more comfortable seats there.”

  “I remember,” Alex said, standing up. “I don’t want to jeopardize your position in this matter, but at the same time, a cushion would be most welcome.”

  “I’m the victim in this,” Sydney said flatly. “There’s nothing you could do that would screw that up any more than it was in the first place. C’mon.” She held the door open.

  * * * * *

  This was the first time Alex had been given unfettered access to Sydney’s office. During his first few visits, he had stayed on his feet near the door, so that she would not feel he was intruding. It had been very important then not to give even the slightest wrong impression.

  But now, Sydney moved files off the loveseat in the back corner of the cramped little room and waved him toward it. “Do you drink tea?” she asked.

  “Occasionally,” Alex lied. “But I’m fine for now, thank you.”

  “I’m getting one. The coffee here is paint-stripper in disguise. I’ll be right back.”

  Once she had left, Alex’s attention was caught by the books on the shelves behind her desk. There were a lot of well-thumbed police technical titles, but the upper shelves and the lower ones were the more interesting. Nearly everything was in hardcover and he ran his finger over the spines, reading them off. Criminology, law, police in history, psychology, criminal psychology, more history titles dealing with everything from Jack the Ripper, to Genghis Khan, to Special Forces biographies. Tucked away at the bottom corner was a leather bound set of the complete Sherlock Holmes stories.

  Sydney returned when Alex had started to flip through the second book in the collection, remembering when the stories had first appeared and what a fuss the media and readers had made when Conan Doyle had tried to kill Sherlock Holmes off.

  She put the cup of tea down on the desk and looked over his arm at the book. “They’re great inspiration,” she said. “I don’t think anyone could ever really pull off the feats of detection that Holmes does, but it’s a nice fantasy to aspire to.”

  His body strummed. She was standing too close and he could smell her scent, which was light but sophisticated. Underneath that was her natural scent and that was even more powerful. Even if he had not known it already, her scent and her body temperature would have told him that sometime in the last hour or so she had been sexually aroused. It was hard to ignore.

  He realized he was staring at her and not at the book. But Sydney just looked calmly back. She didn’t move away. She didn’t blush. But her pulse elevated. He could hear her heart pick up pace. And damn it, he still couldn’t look away.

  There was a sharp rap on the door and Sydney whirled, just as the door thrust open. “Lieutenant Stevens, the desk clerk said…” Rafe said, speaking as he stepped inside. He was here and fifteen minutes early.

  Alex smiled at him, grateful that he had made such good time. But Sydney cleared her throat. She was blushing.

  Alex watched Rafe’s gaze flicker over her. Even from six feet away and just inside the door, he would have no trouble at all detecting her arousal. Her blush alone would look damning.

  Rafe’s expression tightened and his eyes grew flinty. He straightened up, his hand falling away from the door knob. “Lieutenant Stevens?” he asked formally.

  “Yes,” Sydney said. “You’re Alex’s lawyer?”

  After a year of calling him Doctor Karim, she had finally used his first name.

  Alex’s chest tightened as Rafe stared at her, absorbing everything. It didn’t need Sherlock Holmes to figure it out, but Alex knew Rafe would choose the most damning interpretation. So he bent and returned the book to its slot on the shelf and straightened up again.

  “Rayner De Leon,” Rafe said. “Have charges been laid?” He looked at Alex directly, and his face was just as flinty as when he looked at Sydney.

  “No, none,” Sydney said. “Excuse me for the direct question, but aren’t you the appellate judge from the Second Appellate Court?”

  “Yes, but I’m also Alex’s lawyer right now. Is there a private room we can use? I want to talk to my client.”

  * * * * *

  He could barely wait for the door to shut. He dumped his briefcase on the battered table and turned to Alex. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he demanded. “The one you said was a possibility.”

  Alex pushed his hand through his hair. “Was a possibility,” he said calmly.

  “So you’re lovers now,” Rafe pushed. The words made him feel sick.

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Is that really a matter for you to worry about?” he asked softly.

  There was a warning in that tone. Alex was a private man. Rafe had figured that out already, but he ignored the warning anyway. “I thought that….” He blew out his breath. “I thought I deserved that consideration, yes.”

  “I warned you,” Alex said, “right from the start.”

  “I didn’t think you’d jump straight from my bed to hers!” Rafe shouted, throwing out his hand in a roused ges
ture.

  Alex just looked at him. “Why are you so upset?” he asked quietly.

  Why was he so upset? Rafe whirled away, to the corner of the room where he didn’t have to look at him. Where he could think. What was happening here? He had seduced…well, he had chosen to cooperate in Alex’s seduction and at the beginning it had been a pleasant way to pass the time.

  But Alex had not been the wispy distraction he had thought he would be. The way he had kissed him in his own kitchen, his pleasure when Rafe had brought him off that very first time, his lovemaking, which was innocent and sophisticated at the same time—it had intrigued Rafe.

  The things Alex said kept popping up in his mind later, unexpectedly strumming and resonating. He was far younger, but he seemed to have spent his time thinking far more profoundly than Rafe had ever bothered to do.

  There were depths to Alex that beckoned. He had by-passed the status of distraction long before he had arrived for dinner and charmed every last one of Rafe’s family at the table. Was Rafe the idiot here?

  He recalled the moment he had walked into the Lieutenant’s office. He had been struck, first, by the thought that he knew her, somehow. But she was a stranger to him. She had never been in his court. Appeal courts were the domain of senior lawyers, not detectives and he would remember someone so gloriously beautiful.

  It had taken a moment to notice the signs and symptoms in her, to hear her racing heart and sample her scent. The woman had been roused and ready. Rafe wondered how Alex had pulled that off with a heavy book in his hands, but her state was unmistakable.

  And he didn’t like it. Not at all.

  Alex’s hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” Rafe asked bitterly, turning to face him again. “It wasn’t just her that was aroused, back there. Tell me you weren’t the tiniest bit tempted, Alex. Tell me and make me believe it.”

  Alex shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. I wish I could. I wish I could lie and fix this, but I can’t, Rafe. I won’t, not with you.”

  Rafe could feel his eyes widen at the same time it felt like someone had kicked him in the chest. He stalked back to the table and picked up his briefcase. “I get you out of this mess and home without rousing their ire, then we’re done.”

  * * * * *

  Sydney pressed the buzzer and shifted on her feet, not with nerves, but with a combination of anticipation and pure lust. She had spent the last two days unable to think of anything else but Alex and that damn kiss. And the near kiss that followed. Her dreams had been shot with images of him taking her in a range of ways that shifted from the purely romantic all the way up to the purely pornographic.

  She had tried working and been distracted and irritable all day. So she had done something she had never done before—she’d looked up Alex’s address in the police database.

  The scrap of paper with the address had sat on her desk for the rest of the afternoon, teasing her. Beckoning.

  She’d booked off at four, unable to stand the tension any longer. She had driven straight out here, to Beverly Hills, trying not to be impressed about the address. Now she was here and had no idea what she should do or say when he finally stood in front of her.

  It took several minutes for the door to open, long minutes that had her heart racing and her blood surging in a way she could feel in her ears and her temples. When she finally heard the lock turning, she gasped out loud in relief.

  Alex pushed the door aside and looked at her. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  “What happened?” she asked, alarmed. All her arousal and her need evaporated as she took in his appearance. He was wearing worn and faded jeans and a cotton shirt that looked like he had been wearing it for days. The wrinkles were ironed into the sleeves and the front. It was untucked. His feet were bare. It was so unlike Alex to look so disheveled that fear leapt into her chest. “What’s wrong?”

  Alex turned away from the door, leaving it open. “Now is not a good time, Sydney.”

  She moved inside and shut the door. “Just tell me what has happened,” she begged. “You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

  Alex stopped moving. He looked over his shoulder at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he said listlessly and turned to lean against the white wall, his head down.

  “Is it being stuck at home?” she asked, moving toward him. “Because I have good news about that. Brody and Taylor and…and…”

  “Veris,” Alex supplied.

  “Yes. They did more than corroborate your alibi, Alex. They had a home video of the birthday party. A neighbor across the street saw your Jaguar on the street in front of the house until after midnight. So you’re clear. It wasn’t you, just like you’ve been saying all along.”

  Alex glanced at her. “Very well,” he said listlessly.

  “Do you want to know something strange?” she asked, taking another step closer to him. “Someone got into the evidence box and took all the security and traffic cam videos. They’re gone.”

  Alex’s head lifted. For the first time she saw something other than dead neutrality in his eyes. “Everything is gone?” he asked.

  “Everything,” Sydney said firmly, happily omitting the one tiny exception, if it meant Alex would cheer up. “So even if you didn’t have an alibi, the missing evidence means they have to drop that angle of the investigation. They never seriously thought you were the driver, anyway.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Alex said dryly. “As I wasn’t anywhere near there. How did the evidence go missing?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked gently. “It’s gone and that means you’re free and clear.”

  “It does matter,” Alex said slowly. “There’s something odd about it just abruptly going missing, like that. You keep your evidence under lock and key. Did someone break in?”

  “They’re still trying to figure that out,” Sydney told him. “It’s my case, so it’s not my problem. I can’t get involved.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. “You seem very cavalier about a breach of security and the possible contamination of evidence against whoever tried to kill you.”

  Sydney smiled. “I don’t care,” she said honestly. “I’m actually even a little pleased.”

  “Pleased?”

  “Nothing about the accident makes any sense at all, to me or to the detectives on the case, from what they’ve told me. It got confusing when we saw the videos. Now the videos are gone it’s less confusing from a legal perspective and that’s fine by me.”

  He studied her. “You don’t believe me.”

  Sydney sighed. “Maybe we should talk about this later. You’re clearly not in the right mood.”

  “I’m fine,” he said flatly. “Although I’m wondering why you don’t trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Alex. I absolutely believe you when you say you weren’t there. But I was there and although I didn’t remember it until I saw the photos, you were there, too. You spoke to me and you called me by name.”

  “You only remembered it when you saw the photos?

  “I remembered that and I remembered what you said in the hospital, about not telling anyone.” She moved closer. “Here’s the thing, Alex. If I accept your assertion that you were not there, and I do accept it because you’re not a liar, and if I accept that I wasn’t imagining things, because I know I wasn’t, then nothing about this makes any sort of sense.”

  Alex gave her a small smile. “You’re in a pickle then, aren’t you? It’s a good thing you’re not the investigator for this one.”

  “That’s why I’m pleased about the evidence going missing. It makes the case very straight forward now. It just leaves you and I to wonder in our idle hours about what really happened.”

  Alex tilted his head. “Is that why you’re here? To tell me about the missing evidence?”

  “No, I….” Sydney began, then stopped herself from blurting out the frank truth. Alex’s mood was incomprehensible to he
r right now because he wasn’t opening up at all. He wouldn’t welcome lusty confessions. So she settled for a partial truth. “We were going to talk, you said. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Alex took in a deep breath that lifted his chest. “We do need to talk,” he agreed softly. “But if we talk now, Sydney, I’m not going to be fair with you. I’ve…had some bad news. I’m feeling very bitter.”

  Bad news? Sydney reassessed his appearance and his mood when he had answered the door and put it together with an almost audible click in her mind. “Did you get dumped?”

  Alex reacted like she had bitten him. He almost side-stepped away from her. “You knew I was seeing someone?”

  “I guessed,” Sydney said. “Criminals don’t always lie, but what they don’t say is where the truth is found.”

  Alex’s jaw rippled. “I’m not a criminal.”

  “Which means you know how to lie with even less expertise than they do.” She stepped much closer. “You stopped touching me, Alex. That’s what told me that the conclusion all the other hints were pointing at was true.”

  He let out a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t account for your investigative instincts.”

  She reached up and cupped his cheek. “It was very messy?”

  “Messy enough.” For the first time since she had stepped in the door, he looked at her directly, his gaze steady. “I told them about you.”

  Oh. Something in her chest tightened, stealing some of her breath. “Told them what?” Her voice had no strength.

  His gaze wasn’t wavering by an inch. “You know what. You’ve known for more than a year.”

  She swallowed. “You’ve hounded me for a date…but…”