Husband For Hire (A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance)

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Husband For Hire (A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance) Page 20

by Caitlin Daire


  He walked out, and my heart beat faster and faster with each click of his boots against the concrete floor. When they’d faded completely, I turned to Blake. “What am I going to do?” I asked, my voice hollow. “The footage obviously makes me look guilty, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I know you didn’t. I’d say we need to get you a lawyer, but they haven’t laid any charges yet, and he just said no one can reach the island right now anyway,” he said stiffly. “I think all we can do is wait it out.”

  “I bet you’re regretting coming here with me now, huh?” I said, looking down at my feet. “If you weren’t locked up, you could be out there helping figure out who really killed Ed before they seriously charge me.”

  “I’m sure the cops will do their job, like the officer just told us. And I don’t regret coming with you for a second. Not to this cell, not to this island…not anywhere. Wherever you are, that’s where I wanna be.”

  I smiled. Things were dire, but at least I had the comfort of Blake’s seemingly never-ending devotion.

  “I guess you’re right. All we can do is wait this out,” I said with a determined nod.

  “I know a way we can pass the time,” Blake said, sliding a hand onto my thigh. “Lucky I always keep certain things in my pocket…”

  I frowned. “You can’t be serious.”

  He cocked a brow. “Why not? We’re locked in here, all alone, nothing else to do… why not have a little fun?”

  “I’m facing a murder charge!” I said incredulously. “That’s why not.”

  “All the more reason to have sex with me right now. It could be one of the last times you get to ride this.” He waggled his eyebrows at me as he patted his lap.

  I stared at him, unable to believe what he was suggesting. Then I burst out laughing. “God, you’re so bad,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re evil.”

  “But I make you laugh, right?”

  I nodded, my chest still shaking with laughter. It felt good to do this after everything I’d been through today. “Yes, you do. I’m in freaking jail, and you still manage to get me giggling.”

  His voice softened. “You know I was kidding about it possibly being one of the last times, right? You’re not actually going to be charged, Indi. I mean, you heard that cop. He doesn’t believe you did it, either.”

  I nodded. “I know you were kidding; of course. And I think you’re right. Justice has to prevail, doesn’t it? And I’m innocent.”

  “Exactly.” Blake nodded. “But you’re guilty of doing something else, that’s for sure.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Guilty of what?”

  He grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. The hardness beneath the fabric of his pants told me exactly what I was guilty of. “Blake,” I hissed, although I couldn’t quite wipe the smile off my face. “I thought we were kidding about this!”

  “I was. But then I looked at you, and I can’t help it. You’re too sexy,” he replied, nuzzling my neck. “And this’ll make a good story for the future, right?”

  “Sex in a jail cell? I don’t know,” I said reluctantly. “Come on, Blake, someone could come in here any minute….”

  “Oh, someone will be coming in here, if you catch my drift.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I said, shaking my head as a small smile curled my lips up.

  “I’ll get you off, and then we’ll get you off the charges.”

  “Okay, okay! Enough jokes,” I said. “You’re lucky, you know that?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Lucky how?”

  “Lucky you’re so hot and can get away with this stuff. I think you’re the only person in history who successfully turned someone on in a prison cell. Now kiss me.” I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

  He grinned. “I thought you were worried about someone coming in and seeing us.”

  “They’re all too busy. And Christ, who even cares right now? Kiss me!”

  Blake didn’t need to be asked again. He leaned down, dipping his head to meet my lips in a passionate kiss. Our hands frantically roamed each other’s bodies, touching the skin beneath our clothes but never actually removing any of them. We couldn’t strip naked; this needed to be quick and dirty.

  “I want you so fucking much,” Blake murmured. He was breathing hard now, burying his face in my hair. One hand dipped between my legs, pushing up my skirt before delving inside my panties. I shivered in pleasure as he ran a finger over my slit, and then I gasped as he suddenly pulled away and roughly spun me around.

  “Bend over the cot,” he commanded.

  I did as he said. Then I waited, my hands planted firmly in front of me.

  I heard the sound of Blake’s belt being undone along with a condom wrapper, and then he stepped forward, running his hand over my back. He leaned down, kissing and licking my neck as he pulled my panties down to my knees with one hand. Then he sank two fingers into me, making me cry out with desperate need as I grew wetter and wetter.

  His hand slid farther forward and under me, rubbing the nub of my clit as I moaned, finger pads stroking smoothly. The other hand moved to the small of my back, holding me down so I couldn’t buck my hips at all.

  Slowly, he sank into me from behind while working my clit. It felt incredible to have him stretching me again, filling me with every inch of him. He started out slow, teasing. Then he built up his speed, fucking me hard and fast. He was relentless.

  The first stirrings of pleasure built in my core, and my arms gave in. I collapsed against the cot with a gasp, but Blake pulled me back up with his strong arms, still pumping into me hard, his fingers still working my clit. Then one hand snaked around to cup my breasts above my clothes, pinching and kneading and teasing my nipples so much that they grew into stiff peaks, visible under the fabric.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he growled against my neck. “I want you to come for me.”

  And I did. When the climax finally hit me, I collapsed again, gasping and moaning. I was coming hard, Blake’s fingers still strumming my clit as my whole body shattered.

  The cell was cold, but I was on fire. I rolled over and lay on my back on the cot, panting for breath. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  Blake grinned as he wrapped the condom in toilet paper from the little holder on the other side of the cell before tossing it through the bars and landing it perfectly in a trash can which sat near the door. “Yeah. Guess we can strike that off the bucket list.”

  I smiled and patted the cot. “This is actually pretty comfortable, all things considered. Come and lie down.”

  “Gladly.”

  Somehow we both managed to fit, cuddled up next to each other on the narrow cot. It was still early, only around seven P.M., but after the incredibly long day we’d both had, I was exhausted. Blake seemed to be tired as well, because he fell asleep with his arms tightly wrapped around me within minutes of us curling up on the cot.

  I drifted off easily too. I might’ve been in a dank prison cell with a false charge hanging over my head, but I still felt as safe and content as I possibly could in this moment. It was all because of Blake. With him, everything felt easy even when it wasn’t. With him, I could be happy no matter what was going on in the rest of my life.

  With him, everything just felt right.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Blake

  “Rise and shine!”

  Sheriff Irons tapped on the holding cell bars, and I opened my bleary eyes. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “It’s nine-thirty.”

  “We slept for fourteen hours?” Indi said, sitting up next to me and stretching her arms.

  “I guess we needed it,” I muttered. With all the shit that’d been going on lately, sleep hadn’t been the highest thing on our agendas. I never thought a cramped cot in a police holding cell would be the right spot for a decent snooze, but we’d managed it anyway.

  Irons moved to the door and unlocked it. “You’re free to go, Indi.
Sorry about the inconvenience. I hope you understand.”

  “Wait, what?” Indi said, her eyes widening. “That’s it? I’m free?”

  The sheriff nodded. “Thought you’d be happy to hear that news.”

  “I am! I just… I don’t understand.”

  I nodded in agreement, frowning. “Yeah, neither do I. Yesterday you seemed pretty sure she was guilty.”

  “And I apologize for that,” Irons said, swinging the door wide open. “We reviewed the evidence, and we came to realize it just wasn’t possible that you committed the crime, Indi. The CCTV time stamps show that you were only in the office for around a minute before running to the door and screaming for help. That’s not enough time for you to stab a man to death, wipe your prints off the knife handle, and clean the blood off yourself.”

  “No shit. You couldn’t have figured that out yesterday?” I said, shaking my head in annoyance.

  Irons sighed. “Look, there’s only me, my deputy and three junior officers on the island. We aren’t used to stuff like this. I don’t think there’s ever even been a single murder in the history of this place. It’s all very hectic, and we have to explore every possibility.” He focused on Indi. “I’m sorry, that’s just how it is.”

  Indi nodded. “I understand,” she said. She could be temperamental sometimes, but she was also endlessly sweet and forgiving. I loved that about her. “So how did the killer get in without walking through the door to Ed’s office?”

  “The inn owner reminded us of something—old Prohibition tunnels run all over the place underneath the inn, and there’s hidden entrances to those tunnels in a lot of the rooms. The killer got into the office that way and left in the same manner.”

  Shit. I’d totally forgotten about those tunnels. I couldn’t remember who told me about them, but I definitely remembered having a conversation about them with someone.

  Indi stood up and patted down her rumpled clothes. “So does that mean no one at the inn is safe right now?” she said fearfully. “If this murderer can just get in and out of people’s rooms like that?”

  Sheriff Irons shook his head. “No. My boys and I have been busy sealing off every tunnel entrance so that can’t happen. Got the original inn blueprints and everything. Whoever the killer is, he isn’t going to get anyone that way again.”

  “I guess that’s a vague comfort,” Indi muttered. “But we’re still all stuck here on the island, right?”

  “Yep. Weather conditions haven’t changed.”

  “But it’s stopped raining,” she said.

  “It has here, yes. But look outside. Sky is still grey, and you can see the storm out on the ocean. It’s impossible for anything to reach us right now. So until the storm lets up and everything gets fixed, no one comes or goes from this island, and everything’s running on generators.”

  I sighed. “I suppose that means no phones or internet?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  I grimaced. “So after being lied to by the showrunners and told we were trapped here with a murderer, which was bullshit, now we’re really trapped here with an actual murderer roaming around. Wonderful.”

  “There’s nothing I can do about that,” Irons said with a terse grunt. “Anyway, I’ll give you a ride back to the inn, and then I’ve gotta get back to work trying to catch this guy so people like you will stop giving me a hard time.”

  “Sorry, man. I know you’re doing what you can,” I replied. I had to admit, I felt a little bad. The cops here weren’t accustomed to shit like this, and as a result they were understaffed and under-resourced. I assumed that in cases such as this, police from the mainland would usually be flown in to aid in the investigation, but obviously that was impossible for the time being with the current weather situation.

  “I appreciate that,” Irons said with a nod as he led us out of the station. “And look—I wouldn’t usually say this to civilians. But while you’re stuck here, I’d suggest you keep something to defend yourself with on you at all times. We still have no idea who this killer is, or what their motive is. We don’t know if they’ll strike again, and we don’t even know if their activity will be confined to the inn.”

  “So no one on the island is safe?”

  He shook his head and unlocked the police cruiser. “No, not the way we see it. We can’t take the risk. So all the locals have been warned to only travel in pairs or groups, and we’ve also issued a curfew. No one’s allowed out after dark.”

  “Makes sense. Gotta try to keep everyone safe,” I said. I got in the backseat of the car with Indi, then leaned forward. “So you have no suspects at all right now?”

  “I’m not really supposed to give you details on the case, but I suppose you did just spend a night in one of my cells. Guess I owe you one,” Irons said with a sigh, jamming his key in the ignition. “So no, we have no suspects yet. We’re still in the process of interviewing everyone who was at the inn yesterday.”

  “That’s a lot of people,” Indi said, puckering her brows.

  “Yup. All the inn staff, plus the show contestants and crew. Altogether that’s nearly sixty people.”

  “And any one of them could be the killer,” I mused, sitting back with a sigh.

  “Yup.”

  “I presume production for the show has been shut down?”

  Irons nodded again. “Of course. With a man dead, it can’t continue. Everyone’s petrified. Not to mention all the legal shit that’s gonna happen,” he said with a sigh.

  “And I also presume everyone knows the truth about the show now—how it was a horror show, and Yuri and Elise are actually fine.”

  Another nod. “Yep. With everything shutting down, all the other contestants have been made aware of the original nature of the show, and let’s just say none of them are too pleased.”

  I didn’t need to look at Indi to know exactly what she was thinking. Now she didn’t have to worry about being sued for telling everyone the truth… because the truth had already come out with Ed’s death.

  It was all over. The show was history.

  That was bound to be a weight off her shoulders, although it was awful that Ed had to die for it to happen. I never liked the man, but that didn’t mean he deserved what he got. He didn’t. No one deserved to die like that.

  The cruiser hit a pothole in the road, and as we all jerked forward, something seemed to get shaken loose in my brain at the same time. Suddenly I knew exactly who it was who told me about the Prohibition tunnels beneath the inn.

  “Sheriff,” I said. “I don’t know if this means anything, but I might have an idea for who you should interview next.”

  He looked at me in the rearview mirror. Indi stared at me curiously as well. “What? Who?”

  “Mike Blackthorne,” I said. “He knew all about the tunnels running underneath the inn. We had a whole conversation about it. And he’s already shown himself to be a dodgy asshole. He even threatened me yesterday after we got in a bit of a fight.”

  Irons frowned. “What motive could he possibly have to kill Ed Kramer?”

  “Our fight. I made him admit what he was doing, which was sneaking around and screwing with other contestants’ medications to try and give him an edge. He tried to talk quietly when he admitted it, but our argument was filmed by a cameraman. I bet he was still audible on the recording.”

  “And?”

  “Ed could’ve seen the footage and threatened to throw Mike off the show for what he was doing, because the network could be seen as legally liable for his actions if anyone actually got seriously ill.”

  “I see.”

  “Like I said, Mike’s already proved that he’s a vengeful, vindictive asshole. Maybe he took it a step further,” I said.

  Irons nodded slowly. “It’s a possibility,” he replied. “We haven’t questioned him yet, but he’s just gone right to the top of my list.”

  He stepped on the gas, and five minutes later we were back at the Candle Cove. Several people were standing in the
front garden despite the cool temperature outside, obviously feeling a sense of safety in numbers. They were probably also scared to be inside the inn right now, given that a killer could be hiding out in any nook or cranny.

  When we got out of the car, Amy and Donna rushed over to us.

  “Indi, thank god!” Amy said, wrapping her arms around Indi. “I knew you didn’t do it!”

  “We never doubted it,” Donna added. “We’ve been telling everyone the same thing. But we didn’t even need to. I don’t think anyone ever really believed you’d hurt Ed.”

  Indi smiled. “Thanks. You guys are the best.”

  Sheriff Irons frowned and looked at the two women. “Have either of you seen Mike Blackthorne within the last few minutes? I need to speak to him.”

  Donna shook her head, but Amy nodded. “He was hanging out with the guy who heads up the lighting crew. Neil something-rather. I saw them when I went to use the bathroom about half an hour ago.”

  “Where?”

  “In the bar with everyone else. But I overheard them talking about going to Mike’s room to get some cigarettes,” she said. Her brows puckered into a frown. “Why? Do you think Mike had something to do with what happened?”

  Before the sheriff could even reply, let alone go and question Mike, a shrieking Meredith Blackthorne emerged from the inn’s front entrance. “Help!” she screamed, her eyes bulging and her skin pale. “Mike…Neil…they’re…”

  Irons strode over to her and held her steady so she wouldn’t collapse. “They’re what?” he asked firmly.

  Meredith was almost hyperventilating now. “I found them. They’re dead. Someone killed them in our room!” she blubbered.

  “Did you say they’re dead?” Sheriff Irons said. It was hard to hear exactly what Meredith was saying, given how hysterical she was.

  She nodded frantically. “Yes! Neil’s in the bathroom, and Mike’s on the couch. Oh, god… Mike!”

  She started wailing, and nothing that came out of her mouth after that was intelligible.

  Indi and I stared at each other in shock. So much for my theory that Mike could be the killer—apparently he’d just been murdered along with Neil Kingston.

 

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