Order of Protection

by Lexi Blake

  Win sat back, obviously thinking the problem through. “I think some of the extravagant payment comes from my uncle’s sense of guilt. He wanted to make sure I didn’t go through a long line of nannies, like some kids do. Because he knew he wasn’t going to be there the way my parents would have, he felt like he needed to buy me a mom. Could they have had an affair? I don’t know. Mary wasn’t my uncle’s type even when she was younger. If they did and Brie found out about it, they might have been embarrassed enough to pay her off, but that doesn’t mean my uncle murdered Brie.”

  “His alibi has held up so far,” Henry conceded. “Margarita was with him when you screamed. But she’d just met with him and we know you were knocked unconscious. The question is how long? I still haven’t gotten the ME’s report so I don’t have a time of death. Until I have that and can confirm where everyone was, they’re all still on my radar. Anything else?”

  Case and Michael looked at each other and seemed to have some kind of silent discussion. Finally, Case shrugged and Michael leaned forward.

  “Do you have any idea why Brie would be so fascinated with DNA and ancestry all of a sudden?” Michael asked. “She spent roughly twenty-five hundred dollars in the last six months on books and Internet programs about tracing ancestry. She also paid for three separate DNA tests. The who’s-the-daddy kind.”

  Win frowned. “I think I can put two and two together. Damn her. No wonder her dad kicked her off the family accounts. She was probably trying to prove that her stepmom, Jackie, was cheating on her dad. You have to understand. Jackie is only two years older than Brie is. Was. Brie hated her and she was very likely trying to find a way to oust her. Proving Jackie’s baby girl wasn’t fathered by Brie’s dad would be one way to do it.”

  Michael frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve got a feeling about it. And neither Jackie nor Brie’s father was in New York the night of the murder.”

  Case sat back. “Michael’s been like a dog with a bone about the DNA stuff. I thought she was just playing around with her ancestry for that show of hers. You know, if she’d found out she was mainly Irish, they would go to Ireland and do a special: ‘Brie Finds Her Heritage.’ But I like Win’s explanation more. I’m going to look into Brie’s family. See if they might have hired anyone questionable lately.”

  Henry liked the lead as well. If Brie had been blackmailing people left and right and trying to break up her stepmother’s marriage, there were a lot of suspects out there. “Excellent work, gentlemen. Follow up on those leads and check into Trevor Hughes.”

  He was satisfied that Win didn’t even blink.

  “Sweetheart, could you get our guests some water?” He needed a moment alone with them.

  She stood up. “Of course, but I totally know you’re going to say a bunch of stuff to them you don’t want me to hear.”

  Well, he’d never said she was stupid. “I appreciate your discretion.”

  She walked into the kitchen.

  Henry leaned in. “I want to know everything you can dig up about the nanny.”

  “That’s the problem,” Case argued. “There’s nothing before 1989.”

  “There’s always something. Find the thread and pull that sucker.” Something about the nanny wasn’t right. “I want to know if she has a will and who all that stock goes to when she dies. I want to know everything about her connection to Bellamy Hughes.”

  “We can do that,” Michael promised. “But I want to know how serious you are about Win.”

  Case shot his partner a what-the-hell look. “Hey, we talked about this.”

  “We disagreed about this,” Michael shot back. “Win’s been through a lot and the last thing she needs is some cold-ass bastard using her for sex.”

  “Did anyone think about the fact that she might be using me for sex?” Why did he always have to be the bad guy? Not that he would turn her down. He was getting to the point that he could handle being used for sex. By her.

  Only her.

  Fuck, what the hell was he going to do? He didn’t want anyone else, but he couldn’t quite forgive her, couldn’t quite believe her.

  Michael’s green eyes rolled. “Sure she is. Winnie’s not like that. It’s why I knew she was getting into trouble when Brie talked her into doing that show.”

  “You knew Brie and that crew?” Henry asked.

  Michael shook his head. “That’s a totally different crowd. I’ve probably met Brie twice, but we’ve never done more than exchange pleasantries. I never understood how she was Win’s best friend. She was always . . . ‘sneaky’ might be the right word. Anyway, I could tell she was in it for herself. And by it I mean everything. But I suspect you might be like Brie, too, Garrison.”

  “How so?” He’d been called so many names it didn’t bug him. Not at all.

  Maybe because this was Win’s friend, but mostly it didn’t bug him.

  “You’re cold and you’ve got a reputation for not giving a shit. You’ve recently come out of a relationship where you made quite a few scandalous headlines of your own. Win needs out of that life. It nearly killed her.”

  “I didn’t see you trying to save her.”

  Michael huffed. “I did. I flew to the set because it was obvious she was in trouble. I could see her wasting away. She kicked me out. Told me I was crazy and jealous. What did I have to be jealous of?”

  “It wasn’t really her by then, I suspect. Not the Win you knew. By then she was too far in and the disease had taken over. She was trying to protect the habit,” he explained quietly. “When you get to a spot like that, the addiction is all that keeps you going, in a way. So you protect it. You protect it from your friends and your better self, and all those facts and obvious realities. You shove them aside and hold on to the one thing that makes you feel good.”

  “You sound like you know something about it,” Michael said.

  “I’m a recovering alcoholic.” He wasn’t going to hide anything. “You should put that in my con column. I’m too old for Win. I’m too hard. I’ve got a job that keeps me working all the time, a job that many people view as nothing more than a highly paid ambulance chaser. I don’t tend to care about anything or anyone. I’m neither shiny nor optimistic. I’m not a good bet for her.”

  “Then maybe she should come and stay with me,” Michael offered. “My father has a penthouse on the Upper East Side. She’ll be safe and protected and we can keep her spirits up.”

  “I’m staying here, Michael.” Win’s face was grim as she handed the investigators two bottles of water.

  Michael stood up. “I’m merely offering you a choice.”

  “She’s made her choice.” Henry found himself staring out the window so he didn’t look at either of them. The younger man was starting to irritate him. The whole talk had made him emotional. He didn’t like being emotional.

  They were right. He was cold and unforgiving.

  So why couldn’t he send her away?

  “All you need to do is call and I’ll be here,” Michael promised.

  “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Garrison,” Case said as they started toward the door. “If we’re not kicked off the case. Nice to meet you, Win.”

  Henry heard her follow them to the elevator that would take them past Remy and down to the lobby. He turned back to the folders in front of him.

  Of course she knew billionaires’ sons. She was a billionaire. Or she would be in a few months. Hoover Kendalmire hadn’t bothered him. Michael Malone did. Michael Malone was an actual functional human being.

  Did she wish she’d stayed close to him? Had she had a crush on Malone?

  It didn’t matter. He needed to focus on the case at hand, and that included dealing with the gossip that was about to hit.

  Would it be smarter to let her move to Malone’s and work the case that way? Malone would likely jump at the chance to play the white knight and save the
lady from the horrors of having her name attached to a washed-up alcoholic lawyer who’d lost everything and was using her case to lift himself back up.

  If Malone was seen escorting her around, was willing to give an interview about how they’d reconnected after all these years, it would probably look good for her.

  It would be good for her case.

  Warm hands touched his shoulders, rubbing across them. “I’m not going anywhere, Henry.”

  Why could this one woman practically read his fucking thoughts? “Maybe it would be for the best.”

  Her fingers worked their way up his neck as though she knew exactly where all his tension was. “You think they would even buy the story? I don’t know. Michael and I haven’t seen each other in forever. Not since he tried to talk sense into me. I kind of thought he hated me.”

  “I don’t think anyone can hate you, Win. I hate everything and everyone, and I can’t seem to do it.” He couldn’t help himself. He was relaxing under her touch. He didn’t even want to fight it. He was sick of fighting her.

  “Oh, I think you’re wrong. I’m definitely beginning to believe Brie hated me,” she said softly. “But as to all the ideas that are whirling around in that big brain of yours about changing the story line, stop. The truth is best.”

  He reached up and took her hand, pulling her so he could see her. “But my story wasn’t the truth, either. We’re not lovers now.”

  She stared down at him, but the soft look on her face made him feel good. “I thought it was inevitable.”

  “I thought you had a vibrator now and didn’t need me.”

  She reached out and smoothed his hair back. “I don’t know what to do with you, Henry. You scare the hell out of me.”

  “I know you won’t believe me, but I feel the same way. You are the single scariest thing I’ve ever come up against. I hate that man. I don’t even know Michael Malone but I hate him because you lit up when you looked at him. I’m not a possessive asshole.”

  “I don’t like knowing you slept with Alicia Kingman. I stared at myself in the mirror for the longest time today, trying to see if there was anything about me that was prettier than her.”

  He wasn’t going to have her do that. He tugged on her hand, pulling her into his lap. “There is nothing she has that even comes close to how gorgeous you are to me. Don’t you dare question that.”

  “I don’t like the way I feel right now,” she admitted. “My chest feels tight, and I’m tense because I’m starting to understand that so much has been kept from me. There’s only one person I know who understands, really understands, what I went through. Everyone else thinks I flipped a switch at the institute and now I’m cured. They never understood why I did what I did. Why I starved myself.”

  He knew. “Because it felt good. Because you were so out of control everywhere else that you needed to ruthlessly control that part of your life. Mine was the opposite. I was so in control and hated what I saw and felt. When I drank, I could let go. I could pretend I was this other person. The problem was I would relax and start to enjoy myself and then wake up from getting blackout drunk and find out I’d turned into Mr. Hyde. I do understand that part of you, Win.”

  How could the simple act of touching her calm him?

  “Then maybe you could help me.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m tired of sleeping alone. What I really mean is, I’m tired of not having you in bed with me. I can joke all I want, but I need you. I need you now.”

  It was a mistake he was happy to make. All he had to do was lean forward to bring his mouth to hers, and he suddenly didn’t care about the case or the past. He didn’t care about the future or what anyone would think.

  All that mattered was her.

  ELEVEN

  Win knew it was a mistake. She knew it the minute she put her hands on him. She’d felt him exhale, and there had been no question in her mind where this ended. Still, she couldn’t let him be alone. Hell, she didn’t want to be alone. Seeing Michael again and hearing about all the things Brie had done, all the lies and truths that had been kept from her . . . she needed to breathe, and lately the only place she felt perfectly comfortable was in Henry’s arms.

  She needed to get back to that place they’d been to before. Before he’d found out her full name. Before she’d been accused of murder. Before she’d realized how much more he meant to her than she did to him.

  One perfect hour was all she needed. She wouldn’t push him. She wouldn’t ask for more.

  All she could ask was that he took her out of herself, took her to that place where she was more than just Win.

  His mouth came down on hers. Soft, sweet. He took his time, moving his lips over hers, warming her up. He kissed her that way for what felt like forever. Every slow caress of his mouth made her feel precious and wanted.

  “God, I missed you, Win.” The words rumbled over her lips as his tongue made its first appearance.

  Heat flashed through her. He hadn’t called her Taylor in days. He was back to calling her Win. His anger was still simmering under the surface, but he’d softened.

  Time. They both needed it, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have moments like these. Moments of respite. A brief time of sanctuary from all the bad.

  His hands found their way under her T-shirt and she sighed at the contact. Skin on skin. It was what she needed. Nothing in between them. His hands flattened on her back, warming her everywhere he touched as his tongue slid against hers.

  She gave over, letting him lead her with slow, drugging kisses that made her brain pleasantly fuzzy.

  Everything else seemed to fall away when he touched her.

  “I dream about this every single damn night,” he whispered. “I want to get you out of my head but I can’t.”

  “Do you think you can fuck me out of your system?” She had to ask. It was a dangerous question because she wasn’t sure she could walk away, even if he answered the way she thought he would.

  His arms tightened around her, pulling her close even as his head moved back and he looked right into her eyes. “Never. I don’t think I could ever fuck you enough that I won’t want you. Win, it’s only been a few weeks, but I don’t want anyone else. I was going to call. I was fighting it, but I was going to call you. I couldn’t help myself.”

  He was so gorgeous. Sometimes his beauty seemed like a cold thing, like a work of art, but when his eyes were hot and his voice deep and dark, his beauty was infinitely warm. She’d only ever seen him look that way at her. A little voice played in the back of her head. How many other women had seen that look in Henry Garrison’s eyes?

  Why did it matter as long as he was true to her? She was letting her insecurity come between them. It didn’t matter if he’d cared about a woman before. That woman had been crazy to let him go. What did matter was the fact that the right woman would get the Henry Garrison she’d met on that island.

  She cupped his face, loving how straight his jawline was. “I would have answered. I would have picked up that phone and pretended like you hadn’t made me wait because I know what’s wrong with you.”

  “Do you?”

  She nodded and leaned over, kissing the bridge of his nose. “I do. You think you know everything, but you’ve never met me. You have no idea how to handle me, but I can teach you.”

  He pulled the T-shirt over her head, tossing it aside, challenge plain in his eyes. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle you. You think I’ve forgotten?”

  His fingers twisted, unclasping her bra, and it joined the shirt. Cool air hit her skin and she felt her nipples tighten to hard buds. She hadn’t been talking about handling her sexually, but she couldn’t seem to find the will to argue with him. Not when he lifted her up with nothing but his upper body strength and ordered her to straddle him. She found herself with her legs spread, his cock rubbing against her core.

  It
was like a lap dance except there would be no money exchanged, and they were definitely going to do more than tease each other.

  All that stood between her and that rock-hard cock of his were a few thin layers of clothing.

  Damn but she was pretty sure if those layers weren’t there, he would have already found her aching and ready and she would be riding him right then and there.

  His hands cupped her ass, pulling her in closer. “I might have fucked up a lot in the last couple of years, but I can do this.”

  He leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

  She gasped, trying to get air into her lungs as she felt the bare edge of his teeth on her breast. She went perfectly still, letting the sensation flow over her. He nibbled and sucked, every now and then lighting up her system with a bit of a bite. Nothing that would truly hurt, but it reminded her that he was excellent at handling her.

  “See, I remember exactly how to touch you.” The words rumbled along her skin. “You respond to me like no other woman. You respond like you were made for me, like these nipples were meant for my mouth. I know how and where to touch you because I spent hour after hour learning this gorgeous body.”

  He moved to her other breast, sucking and tonguing her in a way that gave truth to his every word. He did know exactly where to touch her.

  And he knew what to say to her.

  “No one ever moved me the way you do.” The words came out shaky, but she felt like he needed to hear them. He was so good at telling her how much he wanted her, but he needed to know, too. “I’ve had a few guys I slept with, a couple of boyfriends, but they weren’t anything like you.”

  His hands tightened on her hips. “Malone?”

  Michael was still on his mind? She needed to get Henry out of that headspace. She cupped his head, running her fingers through the silk of his hair. Her big predatory cat liked to be petted. She’d found stroking Henry got him to calm down. “Not even a kiss. We were only friends. I didn’t have much of a chance to date because of the all-girls-boarding-school thing, but I would travel with my uncle sometimes during the summer, and I spent a couple of weeks most years out on the Malone ranch. I was a kid sister to him and his twin brother.”