by LENA DIAZ,
“Yeah, well, I hadn’t intended to show it to you, to be honest.” At his questioning glance, she added, “But that was before I learned about the exorbitant fortune you put down to bail me out. I guess I can show you the rest of the house and all of its secrets now that I’m not going to run away again.”
He eyed the opening. “If I came up the main stairs, and you came up these back stairs, where did the intruder go?”
“Like you said, he had to have gotten downstairs before you made it from the kitchen to the second floor.”
“I’m not liking this at all. He could be anywhere. This house is way too big to secure. I think we should move back to your aunt’s bar until this is over. At least there I knew where the exits were and there weren’t any hidden panels or staircases to worry about.”
Amber bit her bottom lip and looked away.
Dex blinked at her. “There are hidden panels and staircases at Freddie’s?”
She nodded. “A couple. Honestly, they’re all over this town. My grandfather was a bit...eccentric. And he founded Mystic Glades. He pretty much left his stamp on everything.”
“So, who all knows about these hidden passageways?”
“Everyone, I guess.”
“Even in this house?”
She shrugged. “I suppose not. I mean, people are bound to assume that there are hidden passageways. But unless Grandpa or I took them on a tour, they wouldn’t know where the openings are or what to look for.”
“Can you think of anyone besides you, and his children obviously, who might know?”
Her look turned guarded, and he immediately knew she was hiding something. Again. The only question was why.
“Not really,” she said. “Grandpa wasn’t big on socializing and I certainly never had anyone over.”
He waited, hoping she’d level with him, but when she didn’t say anything else, he swallowed his disappointment. “Okay. Then we’re back to assuming no one knows about the hidden areas. So as long as Holder helps us search the house to insure no one’s still inside hiding somewhere, we should be okay.”
“Agreed.”
He moved toward the door. “We might as well go downstairs and wait for Holder below. We can set up a defensible position in the main living room in the front, with our backs to the fireplace.”
“You’re not going to try to make me hide in a closet?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve given up on trying to make you do anything.”
Half an hour later, red-and-blue flashing lights lit up the windows on the front room. Per their agreement, Amber hid the gun in a wall panel before Dex answered the door. Holder stood on the porch with three other deputies. The lines at the corners of his eyes were tense and his right hand hovered near the pistol on his belt.
“Bring me up to speed,” he said.
A few minutes later, two of the deputies were searching the property in the back where Amber and Dex had seen someone skulking by the maintenance building, while the third deputy stayed with Holder inside the house. They made a circuit of the entire house, one with Amber and one with Dex so they could show them through the maze of rooms. By the time they were done, Dex was convinced no one was in the house, and that no one had probably ever been inside, because the only footprints they saw were those of Dex and Amber.
“The noise we heard on the stairs earlier must have been the house settling,” Dex said.
Amber didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.
“Well, everything’s locked up safe and sound now,” Holder said. “We did find footprints in the backyard that don’t match either of your shoes. So there was definitely someone out there. Probably just some neighborhood kid curious about someone being at the Callahan mansion since it’s been vacant for so long. Whoever they were, they’re long gone now.” He arched a brow. “If you’re worried about staying out here alone, I can take you back to Naples with me. You can set up in a hotel.”
Dex looked at Amber. “It’s up to you.”
She immediately shook her head. “I’d rather stay here, if it’s all the same to you.”
“We’ll stay.”
“Suit yourself,” Holder said. “Oh, since I’m out here, I might as well update you about the case, Miss Callahan. Your grandfather’s body has been exhumed and the private coroner that Mr. Lassiter hired will begin the autopsy in the morning.”
“So soon?” she said.
He slanted a glance at Dex. “Money is known for making things happen. I reckon you’ll have results later tomorrow, if not sooner.”
“Thank you,” Amber said, her voice small.
Holder nodded. “Call us if you need us, but remember we’re an hour out. So if something happens again you might want to seriously consider getting someone to bring you back to town.” He cocked a brow at Dex. “Unless you’ve decided to give up your glamorous new role as a cop and want to turn Miss Callahan over to me to take back to jail.”
“And give up my shiny gold star?” He rubbed his shirt as if he really did have a star on it. “I don’t think so.”
Holder shook his head and herded his men out of the house. After the police cars were heading down the driveway, Dex closed and locked the door. Amber stood silently staring at the floor.
“Amber, you okay?”
She looked up and shrugged. “It just seems so...wrong...to dig up my grandfather’s body. We already know how he died.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t think he’d mind us disturbing his grave if it means we might find something to help prove your innocence.”
Her gaze didn’t meet his as she nodded, which only reinforced his earlier suspicion that she was hiding something.
“If there was something about your grandfather’s death that you haven’t told anyone, you’d tell now, wouldn’t you? Knowing it could mean the difference between prison and freedom? And remember that Florida is a capital-punishment state. The prosecutor could go for the death penalty.”
She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I know. I’m tired. I think I’ll head on up to bed.” Without another word, she headed up the stairs and disappeared into her room.
Dex sighed, retrieved the gun from the panel in the family room and then headed up to his room.
* * *
AMBER LAY IN bed staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep, not with so many worries on her mind. Who was the intruder who’d been in the backyard? What did he want? Was it really just a teenager—or someone more sinister?
And what, if anything, should she do about telling the truth about what happened to her grandfather?
Years ago she’d made a decision that she’d wondered many times about later on. But after coming back to Mystic Glades, she’d seen the reason for her lies and felt the same surge of protectiveness that she had before she’d left. What she was doing made sense because she knew it was what her grandfather would want. And it had never hurt before, until she’d met Dex. Now she was feeling things she hadn’t felt since she was in high school: that delicious rush of heat every time she looked at him, the pleasant tightening of her belly when she’d seen him without his shirt, the tingle of anticipation when he held her hand. She had a crush on Dex Lassiter. There was no denying it. Except that this crush was far worse than any she’d ever experienced before. She couldn’t stop thinking about him or seeing his face whenever he wasn’t around. And it was because of these overwhelming feelings that she was in the trouble she was in right now. If she hadn’t been so eager to see him again, and so driven to make sure that he was okay, she’d be home right now, “home” being her place in the Glades instead of this monstrosity that she still thought of as her grandfather’s house.
It wasn’t her home. Not really. It was her sanctuary and refuge when her parents had left her here each summer, a way to e
scape the constant bickering and fighting and tension in her house between two people who supposedly had loved each other once, a very long time ago. Her grandfather had been very private and pretty much regarded as the town scrooge, but he’d seen through her pain as a teenager and had rather forcefully insisted that her parents go off on an extended vacation in Europe the summer of her junior year. The fact that he’d dumped a boatload of money on them to sweeten the pot had worked and they’d jetted off for a vacation. And Amber had spent that first, awkward summer with her grandfather, feeling abandoned and unloved. Until she got to know him. And then she saw the marshmallow inside him and knew he loved her deeply and that he’d been trying to save her, in his own way.
From then on out they’d become each other’s champions, existing in a usually quiet but comfortable camaraderie with each other. And when her parents ended up staying in Europe after her graduation, she knew her grandfather was behind that, that he must have made it a financial windfall for them to stay away. She’d gone to college and spent all her breaks with her grandfather, and had mostly done the same thing that her parents had done to her—she’d forgotten about them. Until her grandfather’s death, when they’d returned just long enough to find out that they weren’t mentioned in his will. Then they’d done what they were so good at—they’d disappeared, without hanging around long enough to see what had happened to Amber.
She shoved the covers back and slid out of bed. Enough of this. She was making herself miserable thinking about the past, about the only people in her life she should have been able to count on and rely on who’d never, not once, been there for her.
A board creaked in the hallway outside her bedroom. She froze and looked around for some kind of weapon, but Dex had taken her gun. She grabbed a heavy bookend from a bookshelf by the bed and tiptoed to the door. Then she quietly, carefully, turned the knob and yanked the door open.
Dex swore and grabbed the bookend out of her raised hand. “Good grief, Amber. What are you doing with that?”
“I heard a noise.”
He grimaced and stepped to his left, making a board squeak. “Was that what you heard?”
“Yes. What are you doing outside my door?”
“I was pacing the hall. Couldn’t sleep. But as soon as I stepped on that board I was worried you might have heard it and might be scared. I was waiting to see if I’d woken you so I could reassure you that the noise was just me.”
“Oh.” She felt her face flush hot. “I wasn’t scared.”
He set the bookend on a decorative table against the wall. “Of course not.” He winked. “Well, sorry again for waking you. I’ll just...go back to my room.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the nightshirt that barely came to the tops of her thighs before he seemed to wrench his gaze away. He cleared his throat. “See you in the morning.”
She watched in silence as he went into his room across the hall and shut the door. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable and had sparked an answering tug in her belly. And suddenly she was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking. Because having a crush was one thing. But taking it to the next level, to a level where there was no coming back from, was quite another. She shouldn’t be thinking about holding him close, about running her fingers over his rippling muscles. About seeing if he kissed as good when he was conscious as he had when he’d been burning up with fever back by the spring.
No, it was wrong to think about being with him, even if he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Because there was no future, no possibility of one, while she was wanted for murder and had no way to prove she hadn’t done it without destroying someone else. Lying, even though she hated it, was accomplishing the only good thing she’d ever done in her life. If protecting her grandfather’s best friend from the horrible mistake that he’d made meant sacrificing herself, it was a price she was willing to pay. Because it was the only way she could repay her grandfather for being the only person who’d ever really cared about her. And she never wanted to be the selfish, self-centered type of person that both of her parents had been. Living a life like that was no life and wasn’t a future she was willing to contemplate. She’d rather have no future and die knowing that she’d done the right thing.
She started to step back and close the door, but she stopped and stared longingly at the closed door across the hall. She’d had so little love in her life, and only one disastrous intimate relationship in college with a guy who’d ended up more concerned with notches on his bedpost than the lasting relationship she’d hoped to have. So how could she even consider what amounted to a one-night stand with Dex? She barely knew him.
But she already knew he was worlds better than the immature boy from her past.
Dex was all man—tall, strong, incredibly appealing in every way. And he had that sexy smile that made her want to grab him and kiss him every time he aimed it her way. But he was so much more than that, just based on what he’d said when he’d been delirious. She knew that he’d been worried about leaving his company to fly out to Mystic Glades, but he’d done it anyway because he wanted to protect his best friend from what Dex believed might be a very bad decision. And as soon as he’d realized his friend Jake had thought it all through and was determined to continue on the route he’d chosen, Dex had supported him in that decision.
And then when he’d found himself here, even knowing that someone was trying to kill him, he’d continued to put his life on hold to help her, a stranger, simply because he felt an obligation to her for helping him after the crash. He was putting all his resources behind trying to help her. And then he’d risked his life for her twice tonight—first going after the intruder by the shed and then going through the house in the dark, without a weapon, to find the intruder because they’d both believed him to be inside. What did she know about Dex? She knew that he was a good person, kind, and genuinely caring.
She curled her fingers around the doorjamb. If loving him, just this once, was a mistake, why did the thought of being in his arms feel so right? She was tired, so tired, of being on guard and worrying all the time. Just this once, she wanted to push all her worries aside and simply live. Especially if she’d be spending the rest of her life in prison or—worse—facing the death penalty.
With that thought, she pushed herself forward until she was standing at Dex’s door. This was what she wanted, one night of joy, one night to treasure and hold close to get her through the darkness that surely lay ahead.
She turned the knob, then slowly pushed the door open. “Dex?” she whispered. If he was asleep, she’d go back to her room and know that this was a mistake.
The covers rustled in the big four-poster bed. “Amber? What’s wrong?” He slid out of bed, the moonlight glinting through a slit in the curtains, revealing that he was wearing only boxers.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of all that skin and those sculpted muscles as he strode toward her. He stopped in front of her and moved her to the side as he peered into the hallway. Always the protector. She loved that about him, even though she knew she could protect herself.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said.
He stepped back and turned around. “Then why—”
She pushed the door closed and, for emphasis, turned the lock. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and his hand shook as he swept her hair back from her face. “Canoe Girl, don’t tempt me. Because since I met you, I’ve been thinking about little else but getting you into bed.” He dropped his hands to his sides, his fingers curling into fists as if to make him stop from reaching for her.
“Why fight it, then? I want the same thing.” She reached for her nightshirt to take it off, but he grabbed her wrists.
“Don’t. I’m trying to be noble here. You’re just feeling beholden to me because I
paid your bail and hired a lawyer. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated. Please, go back to your room.” He reached for the doorknob, but she moved in front of him.
“Amber—”
“Dex,” she whispered back, as she swiftly pulled her nightshirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he looked his fill. She was completely naked and knew she was being unfair. But just the fact that he was trying to be noble had made her want him even more. He truly was a good guy. She just wished she’d met him years ago, that he could have been her first, and maybe her last, and that she could have been anywhere but here back when her grandfather had gotten sick. Maybe, just maybe, things would have turned out differently.
She ruthlessly stepped forward, sliding her hands up his glorious chest, reveling in the catch in his breath and how his muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. She slid her fingers up, up, up until her body was pressed flush against his and her hands were behind his neck. A shudder racked his entire body, and he groaned. It was a groan of surrender, because suddenly he was pulling her tighter against him, against the hardening erection pulsing against her belly, and molding his lips to hers.
His kiss was like fire, igniting all her nerve endings, tightening her belly almost painfully and melting her insides. She shifted against him, their mouths greedily moving against each other as she tried to get closer, closer. He reached down and lifted her into his arms, one arm beneath her bottom, his hand molded against her thigh as the other wrapped around her back. He turned with her in his arms and pressed her against the door.
His tongue dueled with hers, tasting, teasing, fanning her pleasure higher and higher. He broke the kiss, both of them gasping for air as he moved his mouth to the side of her neck. She leaned her head sideways, shivering in delight at the feel of his lips, his tongue, against the sensitive skin of her collarbone.
Unable to bear the growing pressure inside her, she rubbed her body against his and angled one arm down his back to his hip. He jerked against her, the cloth of his underwear the only barrier keeping him from penetrating her. He shuddered again and moved back to her mouth. But, instead of kissing her, he stared down into her eyes.
