"So he stopped?"
She shook her head. "Last I heard, he moved to Vegas where he could combine all of his favorite things: drinking, gambling and women." Dorian shook his head and chuckled. They continued sorting through the piles of things that had once mattered to Hank Colbert.
"I wonder what will happen to all of this," she murmured, picking up an aged photo album and blowing the dust from the cover. She flipped through the yellowed pages filled with pictures of unsmiling men and women from days gone by.
"Kendall?"
She stopped and turned to face Dorian. He held up a gilded Bible, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You don’t suppose…"
Dropping the photo album back in place she pushed aside an old Hoover vacuum to stand beside him as he cracked open the book.
"I’ll be damned."
Kendall smacked him on the arm. "Don’t say that while you are holding a Bible…that’s sacrilegious or something." She pressed closer to peer inside. Sure enough, pages had been glued together and inside rested a roll of film, a roll of money and another key. "Well I’ll be damned," she whispered.
Dorian removed the canister. "Looks like Colbert never made the transition into the twenty-first century with digital."
"What do you think this opens?" She lifted out the small brass key. Her fingers brushed across something on the bottom of the book. Digging inside, she pulled out an old snapshot.
"Safe deposit box, maybe?"
Kendall heard Dorian’s answer but she was too busy studying the picture to respond. It was a black and white shot of a man and woman and two smiling children, taken roughly forty years ago. The people in the picture looked so happy. "Do you think this is Mr. Colbert’s family?"
Dorian crooked his head to gaze at the snapshot then shrugged. "Could be."
Kendall flipped it over and read the faded black scrawl. "Hank, Martha, Brian and Kelly." Her heart ached for Hank Colbert. Either he'd lost his family or was estranged. Maybe Dorian's office girlfriend could track them down. Someone should at least know about Mr. Colbert's passing. She slipped the photo into her pocket while he replaced the Bible on the shelf.
"Let’s get out of here so we can take a look at these." He held the canister aloft.
"Can you even get that kind of film developed anymore?"
"Some photographers haven’t given up on film for digital so I’m sure there are still places around. But it would be too risky, especially considering someone killed for whatever is on this roll. Daphne is an amateur photographer and she loves using both. She has a darkroom set up in an old janitor’s closet. We can develop them there." He'd just shoved the rolling door closed and refastened the lock when the sound of tires crunching gravel pierced the quiet evening.
"It’s coming this way," Kendall whispered urgently.
"Come-on." He grabbed her hand and steered her around the side of the building just as headlights slashed through the darkness. He peered around the corner and she crouched lower to do the same. The car stopped in front of Hank Colbert’s unit.
"It’s them," she breathed. "A few seconds earlier and they would've caught us."
"Yeah," Dorian agreed grimly. "We would've been trapped inside."
"We could hope they're Hank’s relatives." The car was a dark four-door sedan with tinted windows, and the two men that got out were dressed much the same as she and Dorian in all black. Both wore ski masks covering their faces and sweatshirts with hoods pulled over their heads. One man took out a kit and picked the lock while the other surveyed the area. Both she and Dorian jerked back just as his head swiveled their way.
"I’d say that would be a no," Dorian remarked. He slid a hand around her arm and helped her up. "Come-on. They'll be in there a while looking for this." He wiggled the canister of film. "Let’s develop this and find out what has them so eager to do a little breaking and entering."
They waited until the men disappeared into the unit before dashing across the gravel road and taking cover behind the next building. Kendall never saw the concrete curb in front of her. With an abbreviated scream, she went down.
"Who's there?" one of the men yelled.
Dorian boosted her to her feet and urged her into a run. "Go, go."
The men hollered for them to stop before giving chase. Dorian shoved her in front of him as a bullet whizzed by her head so close, she felt the hot draft against her cheek. Another pinged into the side of a nearby building. Dorian spun and returned fire, never losing a step. The unexpected shot sent the two pursuers diving for cover, but not before one squeezed off another round. She heard Dorian grunt, turn and fire again.
Thankfully, there was a slice in the chain link fence directly ahead of them. They managed to wiggle through without getting caught. He directed her through a dense copse of woods, branches cracking and leaves crunching as they tore through the forest. She could barely see where she was going but could hear the twigs snapping behind them. Their pursuers were not giving up. She was just about to double over from a serious stitch in her side when Dorian pulled her down behind a rock. The harder she tried to quiet her ragged breathing, the louder it sounded. He was sweating profusely, but was quiet as a church mouse. What a wake-up call. She thought she was in pretty good shape. She made a mental note to hit the gym harder when she returned home…if she returned home.
She could barely make out the shapes of their pursuers, their flashlights flicking around the area. Suddenly the lights snapped off. Then she heard it. A wail of sirens.
"Backup?" she whispered.
"Doubtful," he said as the men beat a fast retreat. "More like someone heard gunfire and called the authorities."
"Why are they leaving?"
"Probably to get their car, cover their tracks."
"So we can go back to the truck now?"
"No. Police will be canvassing the area. We need to find a place to hide out for a few hours. Come-on."
She balked when he stepped into a shallow creek and hauled her along with him. "Can’t we just jump over the water?" she protested, trying desperately to dig in her heels in the muddy bank. "We’ll freeze with wet feet."
"I’m leaving a trail." He gave a mighty tug and she splashed into the water in front of him. The rocky bottom made it tough to stand but she tried to turn and face him. He urged her forward, growling, "Later."
"You were shot?" She tried to keep her balance on the rugged terrain and look over her shoulder at the same time. He was practically propelling her forward. Cold water squished inside her shoes and she could already feel her toes going numb.
He grunted. "Just a scratch."
She’d seen what "just a scratch" meant to him firsthand. Had pulled several scratch-inducing shards of metal from his body. This probably meant one limb was hanging on by a tendon. The man didn’t seem to know pain.
The bank flattened and she almost wept with gratitude when he guided her out of the creek. Their shoes squeaked and she tried to shake her feet and wake up her toes. She let him lead since his night vision was better than hers. "Over there." He pointed a few feet away. As they neared, she realized it was a fishing shack. The unmistakable aroma told her they were just a few steps away from the lake the Lucky Lady had once called home.
#
Dorian made quick work of the cheap lock and nudged the door open. He was pretty sure no one was around but he couldn’t afford to get careless. A quick sweep of the one room interior proved it to be well-used but currently deserted. The shed was rustic but boasted the basic necessities, including a fireplace with a stack of wood off to the side, electricity and running water. They’d walked far enough away from the storage facility to not have to worry about smoke drawing attention. He wanted to start a fire before he tended to the bullet wound. It just grazed his side, but it burned like the fires of hell.
"Don’t turn on the lights," he instructed Kendall. He didn’t want to provide a beacon for anyone that might be looking for them. The smoke would be bad enough. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to
see outside if someone did approach.
"I’m going to get a fire going," he announced. He heard water running as he stacked logs into the hearth. He crumpled an old newspaper he found on a table and lit it with a box of matches from a drawer, the blaze instantly heating his face. He jumped when he felt his shirt tugged from his pants, and sucked in a breath when cool fingers probed the wound.
"You need to get this stitched," Kendall tsked, as she dabbed a warm cloth against the cut.
Gritting his teeth, he said, "There are—"
"Butterfly bandages in the truck." she finished. "Yeah, I know, I know. At least it's quit bleeding." Her touch was light but the deep furrow still stung. Paper crinkled and then she placed a large gauze bandage over the wound. "I found these in the medicine cabinet," she explained "It'll have to work until we get back to the truck."
He watched her work on his side, her touch gentle and caring. His eyes slowly travelled up to her beautiful face. And God, was she beautiful. As if feeling the heat of his stare, she met his gaze. Time stood still. In the back of his mind, he knew he was in deep trouble. He needed to back away, stay focused, keep the relationship strictly professional. Instead, he grasped her head between his hands, stared deep into her eyes. And then he kissed her.
#
One minute ago, Kendall felt chilled to the bone. Her feet were still numb but now with Dorian’s lips on hers, she was warming up from the inside out. Oh, the man could kiss. Her hands roamed his chest and she tried to be careful of his bullet wound…the one he received protecting her because she was a clumsy idiot.
One of his big hands cupped her head, the other slid around her back and gently eased her to the rug in front of the fire before he covered her body with his. He felt so solid, so perfect. One part of her brain screamed that she shouldn't be experiencing such overwhelming pleasure when her three friends were dead. But the other part argued that she was still alive and she needed this human connection. The feelings Dorian stirred in her were impossible to ignore. She'd never felt this way about a man before and it terrified her. Her admittedly few relationships in the past had been exciting and fulfilling, but with Dorian, it wasn't only excitement she felt, it was desire, it was passion, it was need. Raw, untamed need. She craved him. He was oxygen and she couldn't breathe without him. Scary thought, that. She, who never depended on anyone, was now hopelessly at the mercy of someone else.
He took his time removing her clothing, stopping to kiss each new exposed area. All her earlier thoughts flew out of her brain at the exquisite pleasure of his lips worshipping her breasts. She cried out and ran her hands down his back, pulling him closer. He was all hard muscles and unwavering strength and so profoundly male. Every female cell in her body responded, wanting to sink into his skin, meld as close as two people could possibly be. Then she was naked and no longer chilled. She was burning up. She wanted to slow down, explore his body as he had hers, but he had other ideas. She was more than ready when he entered her, wanting to stay this way forever. He felt huge and solid and her body hugged him lovingly. Then he started moving and she couldn’t stop the scream of pleasure that burst from her very soul.
#
Dorian had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Kendall was stunning, and he needed to be inside her more than he needed his next breath. He forced himself to go slow, to worship her like the goddess she was, explore every inch of her amazing body, tell her how truly gorgeous she was, inside and out. As much pleasure as it brought him, he became more and more impatient with each piece of clothing he removed, afraid he would embarrass himself if he didn’t hurry. He wanted to keep it slow and leisurely, but his body had other plans. He was still feeling the adrenaline high after the gunfight and chase, and having this incredibly lovely woman kiss him with such abandon, to feel her soft hands stroking his body, it was more than he could take. He barely managed to shove his jeans down, grab a condom from his wallet and then he was sinking in her glorious heat, gasping at the sheer perfection of the fit. God, he wanted to stay like this but he had to move. He wouldn't last. She was perfect. Nothing had ever felt so good. Just a few strokes and she exploded, his name bursting from her soft lips. That was all it took…two more strokes and he followed her, grinding their bodies together as a pleasure like he had never known washed over him, his eyes rolling in exquisite ecstasy.
It took a few minutes of sheer bliss for reality to set in. He had just become involved with a woman he was protecting. Again.
Would he ever learn?
He pulled away, pissed at himself. She'd been so damn cute when she explained about the Bible and then so damn vulnerable after getting shot at, he just couldn’t help himself. Her big blue eyes were wide, searching his, and he'd always been a sucker for a woman in distress. He'd been shot helping the last one, and shot again helping this one. He couldn't afford to go another round with a bullet…he might not be so lucky next time.
What the hell was wrong with him? The last time he let a woman get to him, he almost died. Someone else had. He knew better than to get involved with another client. Knew. Better. But for some damn reason, with Kendall Buckley, he just couldn’t help himself.
"Dorian?"
"Get dressed," he growled, tossing her clothes to her. "We need to sleep and then get this film developed." He turned away from the hurt on her face as he fastened his jeans. Real classy, Demarchis, he chided himself. He had just pounded into her, taken her hard and fast, found heaven inside her body and he hadn’t even gotten completely undressed.
It was official. He was a complete jackass.
#
The moon slid behind a cloud when they exited the fishing shack, making navigation precarious. Kendall stuck close to Dorian’s tall, hulking frame. What she really wanted to do was run far and fast from him. She was mortified at having given in to him so easily. She was usually so careful with men. She took time to get to know them before things progressed. Most men only wanted one thing from her. They saw the outside package. She was still waiting for the man who could see inside her, past the expensive haircut and make up and tone body that television demanded. She'd known Dorian just a few short days before jumping into bed with him. And it had been good. No, better than good…amazing. Mind-blowing. Perfect. The best ever.
But apparently he didn’t feel the same way.
The humiliation cut deep. Not only had she acted like a tramp, but she didn't have time to indulge in one-night stands. She had three friends to avenge. Now things between them would be awkward and uncomfortable.
They made their way to the vehicle and he at least had the decency to help her inside before he rounded the hood, climbed in and started the engine. She cranked the heater and wiggled her fingers in front of the vents, trying her best to ignore his brooding presence beside her.
They'd driven a few miles when his voice breached the silence. "What would you say to some falafel, maybe some moussakas or gyros?"
She might be pissed at him, but a girl did have to eat. "I’d say give me a fork and stand back." She thought she might not be able to eat again after seeing her friends butchered, but apparently fantastic sex worked up a girl's appetite.
Dorian's smile was quick and grateful. He probably felt bad about the way he treated her but if he thought feeding her would make up for it, he was in for a rude awakening. Not in this lifetime, buddy. He had some serious groveling to do if he wanted a repeat performance.
Wait—did she want a repeat performance? Well, who wouldn't? The man knew his way around a female body and he knew just how to use his very, very generous attributes perfectly. But the look of revulsion on his face when he realized what they'd done—that was a low blow.
"Look, Kendall, I'm sorry about earlier," he said as if reading her mind. "It won't happen again."
"Damn right, it won't," she agreed with heat.
His gaze shot to her. "Did I hurt you?"
"Yes, you jackass. You hurt my pride and my self-esteem," she said in all honesty. "A woman d
oesn't appreciate the man she's just shared her body with looking at her like she's a two-headed troll when he's done using her."
Dorian winced and pulled over to the side of the road before shifting into park. He turned to her and cupped her face with both of his hands. "You are the farthest thing from a two-headed troll that I've ever seen. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he said with sincerity.
She shifted her eyes away. "Yeah, well, you were a SEAL working with men only, so that's not saying much." Not that she was fishing for compliments. Much. But he had wounded her pride.
"Kendall." He waited until she met his gaze before he continued. "You stood next to Olivia, who is drop-dead gorgeous, the kind of woman I'm usually drawn to…no, don't look away," he chastised when she did just that. "She couldn't hold a candle to you…you are simply the most beautiful woman in the world."
Tears welled which pissed her off. She never cried. "Then why…"
"Did I treat you like a two-headed troll?" he finished with a wry smile. When she nodded he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers in a kiss that ended much too soon for her liking, and dropped his hands. "I'm supposed to be protecting you, not attacking you." He turned away. "I crossed a line."
She laid a hand on his arm. "The attacking part was mutual."
His sigh was heavy and laden with guilt.
"There's another reason, isn't there?"
He looked like he wanted to say something, then shook his head. "It's late. Let's get some shut-eye and then we'll head to Daphne's darkroom tomorrow to develop the film."
She let it drop…for now.
Chapter Seventeen
Tuesday, September 21
"Mrs. Demarchis, this is the best hummus I’ve ever tasted."
Dorian’s mother beamed with pride. "It is a special family recipe, passed down from generation to generation. My great grandmother gave it to me when I was but a young girl." She patted Kendall’s face. "Maybe someday I give the recipe to you, no?" She winked at Dorian.
Trust No One Page 18
