by Lisa Childs
“Dane’s known the longest,” Cole explained. “We didn’t get the truth out of either of them until that blanket party the other night.”
“You had to beat it out of them?” she asked.
Manny finally managed to stand straight. “We would have gotten the information a lot faster if we’d had you there to help.”
But they obviously hadn’t wanted to involve her. Because she was Cooper’s sister? Or because they hadn’t trusted her?
“Like I’ve explained to all of you now,” Lars said with a weary sigh. “We have no proof to bring to the police.”
“That kid clearly has your DNA,” Cole said. “You can prove he’s your nephew. Then the slimy lawyer would have to explain what he did to your sister.”
Lars shook his head. “I have no way to force him to give up the baby’s DNA for a test that would be admissible in court.” He glanced at Nikki as he said it.
She knew her test wouldn’t serve as evidence for a prosecutor, but she’d needed the proof to support her own suspicions.
“And if we try to ask for the DNA,” Lars continued, “Webber will know we’re onto him and he’ll hide the baby.”
“Like he’s hidden Emilia,” Nikki said.
Lars shook his head again. “I haven’t found her body yet.” Resignation hung like a heavy burden on his broad shoulders, lowering them. “But I will.”
“Emilia is not dead,” Nikki insisted. Like Dane, she was frustrated with him, too—frustrated that he refused to listen to her.
Lars touched her cheek, brushing his knuckles almost absently across her skin. “That’s sweet…that you want to make me feel better.”
His trio of friends stared at them now, their eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and horror. They all knew and respected the bro code that Lars had clearly violated. Or would have had they not interrupted them.
Her face heated, but she refused to give in to embarrassment. Thanks to them she had no reason for it. So she told them what she’d told Lars earlier. “The lawyer’s giving the baby breast milk.”
They stared at her blankly.
“It’s obviously not coming from him,” she pointed out.
And Manny chuckled.
“So he’s buying it,” Cole said with a shrug.
But Dane sucked in a breath and now hope warmed his dark eyes, lightening the color. “Do you think that she’s…?”
She nodded. “Emilia’s alive.”
*
Dare he hope? Lars hadn’t wanted to. That was why he’d refused to listen to Nikki earlier. But what if she was right? What if Emilia was alive?
Several long moments had passed since she’d told his friends her suspicion. They’d come downstairs to the kitchen where Dane had dropped the take-out food and beer they’d brought.
Manny and Cole scarfed down slices of greasy pizza. The thought of eating made Lars’s stomach churn. But then he couldn’t think about anything but what Nikki was suggesting.
He shook his head, unable to accept the hope she was trying to give him. Not knowing how much conversation or time had passed since her pronouncement he said, “I don’t think that’s the case at all.”
And they all knew what he was talking about.
“You don’t think Emilia is alive?” Dane asked, and his topaz eyes darkened with regret, almost with his own loss.
Maybe because he’d known the longest, he seemed particularly invested in Emilia. Not that the others didn’t care because they cared about him. It was almost like Dane cared about Emilia, as well, even though he’d never met her. And despite what Nikki believed, Lars doubted he ever would.
“We’ve been over the entire estate—every room in the house and on every inch of the grounds.” He reminded them of their thorough search. He and Cooper had done it that first day. Cooper had thought they were just thoroughly assessing the security of the estate. Lars had been searching. “We would have found her.”
“Yes,” Nikki agreed. “We would have…” She’d been part of that search. “If he’d kept her there…”
Dane nodded as he followed where her suggestion was leading. “He has to be keeping her someplace else.”
“I have a list of properties he owns,” she said.
Of course she would have researched the man. She was intuitive. She would have known something was up with him just like she’d known something was up with Lars.
“We’ll search them all,” Dane eagerly offered.
“It’s extensive,” she said. “We’ll need to narrow it down.”
Dane nodded. “We may not have much time. Webber’s guards are already suspicious of me and Lars.”
“And after tonight, they have questions about us,” Cole said. “I was in position to take out the one at the gate on your call.” He pointed at Lars. “And he had to know something was up.”
“The lights going off—it made several of them nervous,” Manny added. “They were checking to see who was where…”
Dane sighed. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t say anything to Cooper. He might not have to fire us. Webber might…”
She shook her head. “He won’t fire me.”
“Your brother or Webber?” Dane asked.
“Webber,” she said.
Lars’s guts tightened with dread. He remembered how the man had looked at her—like Lars looked at her—with desire.
“I can buy us some time,” she said.
How the hell was she going to do that? Lars’s stomach roiled with revulsion over the thought of her flirting with the man. Was it revulsion, though, or simple jealousy?
He didn’t want Nikki flirting with anyone but him.
“But we need to get busy on this.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped on the screen. “I sent you all the list of properties. And some of the surveillance footage.”
“Why the footage?” Dane asked.
“Maybe we can figure out who’s been bringing the breast milk to the estate,” she said. “Webber must have an errand boy.”
“We’ll check out some of these properties now,” Dane said. “See if any look like places where someone could be held.” He stood up, his food untouched. He was as eager to get started as Nikki was.
Lars couldn’t move like them, couldn’t give in to the hope as easily as Dane had. But he wanted Emilia to be alive, too—too much.
He didn’t say anything as they all filed out, couldn’t even find the words to thank them until they were gone. But not everyone was gone.
“Why are you still here?” he asked Nikki, staring at her over the empty pizza box and discarded beer cans.
He figured she would have been the first one out the door, leading up the search since she was the most convinced his sister was alive.
Instead she walked up to him and slid her hand into his. Entwining their fingers she tugged him toward her.
She probably wanted him to lead up the search. He would have had he been able to believe that Emilia was alive. Because if she was really alive, she wouldn’t be for much longer.
If the guards had alerted Webber that something was going on at the estate, he would make certain to leave no witnesses behind.
He would kill Emilia.
*
The door rattled. It would open soon. Emilia needed to be ready. But she was still shaking, still alternating between shivering and sweating. She was sick. Really sick…
But she hadn’t bothered to ask Myron Webber for help. He intended to kill her brother. So he was going to undoubtedly kill her, as well.
She hadn’t even been able to pump any breast milk for her baby. So her usefulness was over. She was expendable.
In confirmation of her fears, voices drifted through the door that had opened a crack. “We need to get rid of her—permanently.”
Chapter 14
“Why are you still here?” Lars repeated the question he’d just asked Nikki.
She hadn’t answered him because she wasn’t sure why she had stayed, either.
But they’d started something earlier, something that she needed to finish. Not to find out where it would lead. She knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere because she didn’t want it to.
She already knew that he didn’t respect her any more than her brothers did. Or he wouldn’t have lobbied so hard for her to be the baby’s nanny. He’d thought he would be able to handle her easily.
She had given him a fight then. And she would give him a fight now—if he tried to resist her.
“What do you want?” Lars asked almost uneasily, as if he was nervous. Or scared—of her.
“You,” she replied succinctly.
He sucked in a breath and shook his head. “Nikki…”
As he tried to pull his hand free, she tightened her grasp on his fingers. “I know it’s a bad idea,” she said before he could.
“You’re mad at me,” he reminded her.
“Furious,” she said even as she tugged him toward the stairs leading back up to that bedroom, to that mattress on the floor.
“Then why do you want me?”
“Because you drive me crazy,” she said. “Because we need to do this. We need to get it over with…”
“You say the sweetest things,” he murmured as he followed her.
“We need to get rid of it,” she said. Whatever it was… It was too distracting. “Once we scratch this itch, we will be able to focus on what really matters.”
“What really matters?” he asked as he reached the top of the stairs with her.
Once she passed through the bedroom doorway, she turned back to him because she knew now this time there would be no turning back.
“Blue—Emilia,” she said. “Keeping them safe—that’s what really matters. This—” she gestured toward the mattress “—is just sex.”
“Just sex,” he murmured.
She couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with her or doubting her. She refused to acknowledge the doubts. She wouldn’t let it become more than sex.
If they kept putting it off…
If the tension kept building…
It might become more than sex. It might seem bigger than it was.
It was just an itch they both needed to scratch. They needed to get this over with. She reached for her holster.
And Lars tensed. “Do you hear something?” He reached for his holster, as well.
She shook her head. “No…”
But if she had, he wouldn’t have been able to talk her out of shooting this time. Nobody was going to interrupt them again. She unbuckled her holster and laid it onto the floor next to the mattress. Then she reached for her sweater, tugging that over her head and dropping that onto the floor, as well.
Lars’s breath escaped in a gasp.
She followed his gaze over her chest, to where her breasts overflowed the cups of her red satin bra. Smiling at his reaction, she reached for the button of her jeans, undoing it then the zipper to reveal the panties that matched the bra. She kicked off the jeans.
“Damn, woman…”
“You’re overdressed,” she complained. But before she could reach for his belt, he was undoing it.
Despite his earlier protests, he was all in now—and in seconds, he was all naked, his boxers lying on the floor tangled in his jeans.
And she was the one gasping for breath. “Maybe this was a mistake,” she murmured.
Because he was so damn big.
Everywhere.
Everything.
His erection was so long, so thick, and it pulsed with a need every bit as great as the need burning inside her.
She wanted him. But she wasn’t certain she could handle either him or the desire overwhelming her.
“I’ll make sure you’re ready,” he told her. And his hands wrapped easily around her waist, his fingers overlapping. Everything about him was so big.
And made her feel so small and vulnerable.
Usually she resented that feeling. But as he lifted her, she didn’t mind the vulnerability. It added an element of excitement that had her pulse racing.
He placed her gently down onto the mattress and he followed her down. He held his weight off her, though, the muscles in his arms bulging. Then he lowered his head and slid his lips across hers, gently brushing back and forth.
She didn’t want gentle. She wanted rough and wild and fast. The desire was too great—the need too big to be denied any longer. She nipped at his lips with her teeth, catching the fuller bottom one.
He groaned.
Then she skimmed her short nails down his back. Muscles rippled beneath her touch. She moved her hands farther down—to his butt. And she tugged him toward her.
“You have to be ready,” he protested.
“I’m ready,” she assured him.
But he kept kissing her, making love to her mouth. And he touched her, skimming his big hands over her shoulders and her breasts. His fingers brushed across her nipples.
And a moan slipped through her lips.
That need—that had already been too great—increased to unbearable. She had never wanted anyone like this.
Then he moved his hands lower, over her abdomen down to her core. And his mouth moved, too, following the path his hands had taken. He kissed her shoulders and then her breasts. His tongue flicked across her sensitive nipples. First one then the other.
And a whimper slipped between her lips. She reached up and clutched his hair. It was like pale gold silk sliding between her fingers. His skin was like that, too—like silk over steel. He was masculine perfection.
And he was driving her crazy.
He plucked at her nipples with his lips before moving his head lower. His tongue traced a path over her stomach down to her core.
She moaned as he teased her with the tip of it. Then he slid a finger inside her—stroking her intimately.
An orgasm gripped her, and her body shuddered with release. But it wasn’t enough, not to fill that emptiness inside her that ached for him.
She reached out and stroked her hand down the length of his erection. And he groaned. Then she skimmed her finger across his tip.
“Nikki…” he said, his voice gruff with desire. He pulled away from her touch and fumbled around on the floor. The condom packet rustled in his slightly shaking hand.
So she tore it open for him—with her teeth.
And he whispered again, “Damn, woman…”
When she rolled it onto him, he groaned as if she were torturing him.
She pushed him back onto the mattress and climbed on top of him. Carefully she guided him inside her. She was wet and ready for him. But he was still so big that he stretched her—filled her. She couldn’t take all of him.
She braced her hands against his chest, the muscles rippling beneath her touch. And his hands grasped her hips. Together they found a rhythm. It was what she wanted—fast and frantic and powerful.
More powerful than anything she had ever experienced before…
That need she’d felt before was nothing in comparison to what she felt now. Tension gripped her so that she ached and trembled with it. She moved faster.
And faster, desperate for release.
Lars seemed as desperate as she was, groans tearing from his throat as he thrust up. And his hands moved her hips, arching them so that he slid a little deeper with each thrust.
He filled an emptiness she hadn’t known she had. Then her muscles clutched at him, and she came. His name escaped her lips on a scream of pleasure more intense than she had ever imagined possible. He kept thrusting, and she came again—the ripples ebbing endlessly through her.
He tensed just before his body began to shudder with release. As he came, he yelled her name.
Limp and satiated, she dropped onto his chest, which rose and fell heavily as he panted for breath. Like she panted. Their hearts raced yet in unison.
This was why she had wanted to have sex with him. So she would know what it was like—what she would be giving up—because she knew that no matter his reasons for keepi
ng secrets from her, she would never be able to trust him.
If she ever was tempted to have a relationship, it would have to be with someone who was completely honest. Always.
*
Her breath whispered across his skin, and Lars realized she’d fallen asleep on him—while he still panted for breath. A grin teased at his lips. Wasn’t it the man who was supposed to fall asleep after sex?
Of course he had never met a more macho woman than Nikki Payne. Sure, she was beautiful and delicate-looking. But she was one of the strongest people he’d ever met, too. And as a Marine, he’d met some tough sons of bitches.
Like his friends…
They were out there—looking for his sister—because Nikki had given them hope. And she’d tried giving him that hope, too.
But just now she’d given him something else. Something more powerful than hope. And far more powerful than just the sex she’d claimed it would be.
He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close against his side, and stared down at her face. Her thick black lashes lay against her cheeks.
She looked like one of the dolls Emilia used to have. Lars had bought it for her, but she’d never played with it. When he’d asked her why, she’d told him it was too beautiful. She hadn’t wanted to risk messing it up.
He understood that now. But Nikki wasn’t just beautiful on the outside. She was even more beautiful on the inside. And he’d hurt her.
Not physically. But he’d hurt her because he’d used her. He’d only recommended her for his nephew’s bodyguard because he’d thought he could overpower her.
Instead she’d overpowered him. And not just in that nursery. He shouldn’t have made love with her. But maybe she’d been using him then—just scratching an itch they’d started together.
But with him it was more than an itch.
He was in danger of falling for her and falling hard. His breath sighed out now—wistfully. His fingers shook slightly as he reached out to brush a curl back from her cheek.
As he touched her, he froze. Not because he was afraid of awakening her—but because of the noise.
The door creaked open again downstairs—despite his knowing he’d locked it this time. And he heard footsteps crossing the living room floor.
