Damn it. “Genie?” He got up and stood next to her, trying to keep his footing and his eyes away from her silky curves billowing enticingly above her bra. He shook himself as heat slid through him, coiling around his middle. “Where exactly are we headed?”
“I told you,” she called over the wind. “To find my dad. He’s on the far side of the island. I’m sure of it.”
Thirty long minutes later she pulled up to a lone dock.
He scanned the shore. “I don’t see a sign of anyone.”
“You won’t. It’s our special place.”
She wasn’t going to tell him anything more, he realized, but at least she was no longer fighting him being there beside her. She pulled her clothes from the backpack, stepped into her pants, buttoned up her shirt, put her shoes on, and slipped her hair back into its tight ponytail. Genie the heartthrob became Genie the no-nonsense, tight-lipped field operator. He sighed, instantly regretting the loss as he followed her down the jetty and into the woods.
“All right, I’m calling Cameron now and telling him where we are.”
“I don’t think you should.”
“We’re alone out here without backup. You know the drill.”
She sighed and plopped onto a large rock. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“Come on. Cameron’s not the mole. I’m not the mole. If you’d stop being so stubborn and listen to your gut instead of whatever bull your dad is feeding you, you’d realize that.”
Her nostrils flared and her lips tightened, but she didn’t say a word.
He sat next to her. At least they weren’t screaming at each other again. “Look at it this way, this can be a first step for you.”
“Meaning?”
“Take a leap. Trust me. Trust Cameron, and see what happens. If it doesn’t come back to bite you, which I’m here to assure you it won’t, then maybe…I don’t know, maybe you might see that the whole world isn’t out to get Genie Marsters.”
“I’m not liking you much at this moment.”
He grinned. “I know. The truth bites sometimes.”
“Fine. Call Cameron,” she said tightly.
Kyle punched in the numbers before she changed her mind. He filled Cameron in on how they’d gotten Emerich’s boat, and about the man he’d left tied up under the deck.
“Genie believes her father is hiding out on this side of the island.”
Cameron swore under his breath. “Why didn’t he just call us and come in? Doesn’t he get that we’re here to help him? That we’ve invested a lot of resources to get to the bottom of why Emerich is after him and his family? “
“He believes there’s a mole in your department.” Kyle glanced at Genie and saw her jaw tighten.
Cameron paused. “Based on what evidence?”
“For one thing, Genie didn’t send the text asking me to meet her at the warehouse that day. That bothers me. Who would have wanted me at that warehouse? Not to mention, very few people have the number to that phone.”
“And?”
“The fact that Emerich knew where Genie and her sister were living when no one else did. Plus, Becca texted Genie to meet her at the warehouse before the explosion. Regardless of her involvement with Emerich, it’s hard to believe Becca would have set up her own sister to be killed. Genie’s concerned someone in our unit could be working against us.
Kyle could almost hear the gears turn in Cameron’s head. “All right, let me look into it. I’ll find out where the calls originated from.”
“And I’ll let you know if we find Marsters.”
“Great work, Kyle.”
Kyle hung up the line and glanced over at Genie’s furious stare. He’d had to check in. She knew that. It was his job. But more than that, it was the responsible and safe thing to do. Going off half-cocked and alone was just asking for trouble.
Trouble might be her middle name, but it wasn’t his.
She’d just have to deal with that—with him and with them now, too.
The question was, would she finally do it?
…
Genie took her gun and ankle holster out of the pack and slipped it back on. She hoped calling Cameron wouldn’t backfire on them. Not that Kyle had given her much choice. Any more than he’d let her come out here on her own to find her dad. Still, he’d backed her up flawlessly at the boat, and he’d just gone to the mat for her with Cameron about what had happened at the warehouse.
She didn’t speak as they hiked through the woods, but instead attempted to gather her thoughts. Too much was changing, too quickly, for her to keep up.
Kyle was right, there seemed to be a lot more going on here than they were aware of. If Becca was alive, where was she? Where had she been hiding all this time?
Suspicion crept through her mind. Did her father know? Had he known the truth about Becca all along, and kept it from her? The thought made her slightly queasy.
Should she tell Kyle what she was thinking?
Before, she would have said no way. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Becca could be in trouble. She might need both their help, maybe even Cameron’s help. Still, it would be better to wait until they got to the cabin, until she’d talked with her dad and discovered what he knew. And how he knew it.
For the next thirty minutes they hiked through the damp woods, where the soaring trees were so dense there were times they couldn’t see the sun at all. Large green ferns and a thick carpet of moss covered the ground, littered with large pinecones. The smell of rich earth tinged with pine and cedar brought her back to her childhood and happier memories. This was her special place, where she used to come with her dad when the two of them wanted to go ‘camping’ in the woods.
Becca and Cat had hated the outdoors, and would complain relentlessly, but Genie had always loved it here. It was magical, a majestic realm where she could easily imagine faeries and sprites hiding behind the redwoods and beneath the giant mushroom caps. She and her dad would spend hours fishing in quiet companionship, or hiking through the woods, mountain climbing, kayaking. She’d loved every second of it.
But she was no longer a child, and the forest was no longer magical. It was a dark, dank place now that hid dangerous secrets, and possibly men with guns who wanted to destroy her life.
She’d be damned if she let them.
She would find her dad. Just because the dock had been empty didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Somewhere. Not that he’d be happy to see them. Well, Kyle, anyway, that was for sure.
Kyle. The man she was falling in love with all over again.
She pushed him out of her mind, the mission at hand all she could handle in the moment, and focused on the woods surrounding them. She opened herself up, searching for her father’s thought patterns, for his essence, for anyone out there that might want to cause them harm. But all she could sense was Kyle. Kyle and the lascivious vibes she was getting off him. She tried to ignore them, to ignore him, but she couldn’t help but be intensely aware of his every thought and movement.
He was getting to her, no matter what she did to keep him at arm’s length. The way he looked at her, his gaze melting with heat. No one had looked at her like that for a very long time. Not since the last time he had. Hell, in the last eight months no one had even noticed her at all. She’d made certain of it. The few trips she’d made into town from her tree house, she’d kept herself covered, hidden, invisible. But Kyle always saw her, no matter how much she tried to hide.
Damn, why did he have to be so ridiculously hot? His button-up business shirt and slacks, still wet from his dunk in the sound, clung to him, highlighting his amazing muscles at all the right angles. She tried not to look at him, to keep her eyes strictly on the trail in front of her, but she could feel his gaze on her backside, burning a hole through the thin cotton.
“How much farther?” he asked, suddenly walking next to her. His arm brushed against hers.
“Not too much.”
“Good, because if we don’t get there soon, I’m l
osing the pants. They’re beginning to chafe.”
She squeezed her eyes shut against the fantasy of Kyle walking next to her in only his boxers, and she almost collided with a tree. With a silent curse, she pushed the vision away, and focused on the birds, the bushes, the path, trying to absorb the feel and the smells of the forest.
But there he was again, consuming her thoughts. Unconsciously, she ran a finger across her lips. Dammit, she wanted to kiss him again! To feel his lips moving against hers, his tongue inside her mouth, his total and complete possession of her. She sighed in frustration. Her whole body was practically humming.
But she couldn’t go there. She didn’t dare want a relationship with him, no matter how good it felt to have him close again. She couldn’t give him what he wanted—the ring and the picket fence and the two-point-five kids. She didn’t want to tell him her secrets or go back down that road of heartache, betrayal and disappointment, when they crashed and burned as a couple once more.
She just wanted him to touch her again. To kiss her like she was the only living thing on earth he cared about or wanted. It was crazy. He wasn’t a casual man who had casual relationships, especially after everything they’d already been through together. But she couldn’t stop herself from imagining the feel of his body on top of hers, his weight, the warm softness of his skin against hers, chasing away the chill of her loneliness and the absolute fear that she might always be by herself.
Would it be such a mistake to allow at least that much to happen, when they both clearly wanted it?
Oh, no. She would not go there. That was a dark and dangerous road. But why had he put that darn image in her head of him without pants? She liked Kyle without pants. Oh, yeah. She liked him even better without any clothes at all. She wished her father’s cabin weren’t right around the bend. Because if it was empty, that was a temptation almost too much to resist. But to be honest, if her father was there, she was going to have a really hard time keeping her mind on business.
Within minutes they’d reached the cabin.
And it looked empty.
“Nice,” Kyle said, as they stood before the small wooden framed structure that blended into the forest so well it would have been easily missed if she hadn’t known right where to go. Silently, they approached the door. There was no sign of her father, or anyone else.
With a pounding heart, Genie reached above the doorframe and took down the key. She unlocked the door and peered inside. No one. Quietly, they stepped inside. She motioned for Kyle to check the loft above while she checked the downstairs.
“It’s clear,” he said, climbing back down the steep stairs.
“Same. But someone has been here.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It’s warm in here. The fire’s banked, but still burning.” She walked over to the fireplace and stoked the wood until the embers started smoking.
Kyle regarded it. “Your dad?”
“Yes,” she said, still smelling the faint whiff of his favorite cigar. “But he’s not here now, and his boat wasn’t at the dock.”
Perhaps he’d gone around to the other side of the island, or even back to the house. If so, he would have seen Emerich’s men. He would have fled then, maybe gone to Mary’s. If he had, Mary would have told him she’d been there earlier.
Her pulse kicked up even further.
“I think we should stay until morning,” she said casually. “I’m exhausted and it’s getting late.” She stirred the fire, adding more paper and kindling until it roared back to life. She stood and turned to Kyle. Knowing exactly what she was about to do, and wondering if she’d lost her mind. But she was unable to stop herself.
Her gaze slid over his wet clothes. “Why don’t you take those off?”
He shot her a glance, his face going still. “Excuse me?”
“Your pants, they’re soaking wet. Take them off and lay them on the hearth.”
He slowly, guardedly, stepped forward, peeled off the wet pants and laid them across the stones. She almost smiled at his wariness. Then she saw the red scars lacing his calves. From where the warehouse girder had crushed his legs when it fell in the explosion.
Her fault.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I.”
She reached out and touched his leg, running the palm of her hand over the ridged skin, as if her touch alone could heal him. Pressure burned the back of her eyes. She stood, moving in front of him so there was barely any space between them. She leaned forward and kissed his lips. Softly. Tentatively. Dropping her hands to the buttons on her shirt, one by one she started to unbutton them.
His gaze darkened as his lids fell to half-mast. In his eyes she read the war going on behind them. “Genie, your dad’s not here. Shouldn’t we go looking for him? Those men—”
“If we leave now we won’t get back to the mainland until dark. And you know Emerich’s men will be waiting for us. If we stay out of sight until morning, hopefully they’ll assume we’ve been and gone.”
“You think so?”
Why the hesitation? The old Kyle would have had her on her back by now.
Maybe she was making a mistake. Had she misread him?
With all her buttons already undone, she dropped her hands to her side. “I know it’s almost dark. It’s getting cold outside. In here, the fire’s going. If I know my dad, there’ll be wine in the pantry.”
“And food?”
“Most likely.”
“Good, cause I’m starving.”
What the heck? Obviously, she’d grossly misjudged how badly he’d wanted her earlier.
He turned toward the kitchen, made it a few steps, then as though he could read her disappointment, he turned back and said, “I know I kissed you earlier…” His words broke off for a tense moment. “I believe if we took this any further, if we…like this, with nothing else resolved…it would be a mistake.”
Disappointment crashed over her.
He was right. She knew darn well he was right. And he was trying to be the good guy here, and save them both from more heartache. And yet, there was still a hum pulsing dangerously through her body. It had been so…long.
“You did kiss me,” she acknowledged. “Long and hard. Twice. And we used to be good together, Kyle. This doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t have to be about everything. All this has to be about is tonight.”
She shouldn’t do it. She knew she shouldn’t. Every warning bell in her mind was banging away, but her body had taken over the wheel, pushing her brain into the back seat.
She slipped her shirt off her shoulders and lowered the straps of her bra. “But if you think spending time with me without emotional strings would be a mistake, well, then you are, of course, entitled to your opinion.” With a flick of her wrists, her bra came undone and slid to the floor.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. His eyes swept down her body, lingering in all the places she hoped they’d linger. He stirred beneath his shorts and the fabric tightened around him.
Oh, yeah. He was definitely a big boy.
Chapter Eight
This was a mistake. Kyle knew it and yet, as his mouth pressed against Genie’s, all he could think about was how good she tasted. How great she smelled. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, starting an avalanche of heat and need that spread through him like a wildfire. But as strong as it was, it couldn’t erase his confusion. What the hell did she mean no emotional strings? They weren’t strangers. He wasn’t someone she’d picked up in a bar for a one-night stand. He didn’t work that way. He didn’t have casual sex, especially with her. He loved her, dammit, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He wanted the next time they were together, if they were ever together again, to mean something more than getting off after a crazed, adrenaline-filled day.
He broke away from her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked down at her, at her mussed hair and swollen lips, her eyes heavy with des
ire. She was intoxicating and definitely hard to pull away from. But she knew that. Genie worked every situation so she came out on top. It was a talent he’d always admired—but not when she used it against him. He would not let her maneuver him this time. She was the one who had disappeared. Who’d left him without looking back. Just because she was now willing to forget how badly that had ended, didn’t mean he should jump into her bed again.
She reached for him, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it over his shoulders.
“What are we doing?” he asked. He really wanted to know.
“Enjoying the moment,” she whispered, and leaned forward to nibble on his neck. Her tongue was working magic with his nerve endings, making him momentarily forget his objections. He stepped back, forcing some distance between them. Everything was always a challenge with her, and it always had been. He’d best remember that, because when she was done playing, she’d get up and leave the table—or in this case the bed—without looking back. And he’d be the one stuck holding the losses.
Again.
“You are thinking too much,” she murmured, closing the distance between them. Her fingertips brushed against his skin, moving slowly and deliberately up his chest, leaving a trail of tremors in their wake. He couldn’t make himself move away. He missed her. Missed this.
But would one evening together again be worth the inevitable fallout?
Hell no, it wouldn’t.
So why wasn’t he pushing her away?
She bounced up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. He wouldn’t respond. He’d stay strong and not move. She’d get the idea, and—
But then her tongue thrust inside, sparring with his, and the heat ignited a fire low in his gut. Damn.
He grabbed her shoulders, moving his thumbs across the sensitive points in her neck. She might think she was a master game player, but he wasn’t half bad himself. And this time he knew what he was up against, and knew what was at stake—him. And his badly used heart.
She wouldn’t win. He couldn’t let her have that part of him again, no matter how far this went.
She pressed her body against his, her nipples pushing into his skin—hot little buds of pleasure. His hands skimmed up her arms, one cupping the back of her neck as his lips pushed against hers—hard. He dropped his palm to her breast, stroking, circling, teasing the little nub into a tight, hard bead. She moaned against his mouth and he smiled. Yes, he could play this game, too. And he could play it very well.
Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies Page 11
