Lethal Game

by Christine Feehan

  “You have every right to your opinion, and I have another week to change your mind. I’d rather persuade you now, and reap the benefits, but I’m willing to do the necessary work for however long it takes.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t get you, Malichai. You’re risking scaring me off by telling me all this, you know that, don’t you?”

  “I like to be fair, and you’re not someone who backs away from a fight. It’s important to me that you know I have intentions, but it isn’t just to get you in my bed.” He grinned at her, his thumb sliding over her lips. “Well, okay, I’ll be honest. I have intentions of getting you in my bed as soon as possible.”

  Beneath the pad of his thumb, her lips formed a smile. He felt that movement, the soft slide of silk along his nerve endings. It was a small, subtle movement, but it triggered an explosion of heat in him.

  “You might actually have a chance of getting me in bed,” she replied. “You’ve got charm on your side and I can see I’m a little too susceptible to that in you.”

  “Because I’m such a badass.”

  “Because you’re so sweet.”

  He groaned. “You just can’t use that word, Amaryllis. Seriously. If my brothers were here and heard you call me ‘sweet,’ I’d never hear the end of it. I’d have to shoot them, I’d be in jail and then you’d be coming to visit me, wearing something sexy, and I’d get in fights with the other inmates. It would be bad.”

  She laughed, just the way he knew she would. Soft. The notes scattering around him like a symphony playing in the night. The sound settled into him, finding its way inside. He wanted to hear that sound every day. It drowned out the sound of machine-gun fire. Mortar fire. The screams of the wounded and dying.

  His palm settled around the nape of her neck and he exerted a little pressure, giving her every out, giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. She bent her head down toward his. Up close, her face was even more beautiful than he’d realized, her skin flawless other than one crescent-shaped scar up by her left eye. It was tiny, like a little moon. Her lashes were long and thick, and they fluttered right before they lowered.

  Then his mouth was on hers and his mind shut down. The taste of her, the heat, took him like a wildfire spreading through his body. It seemed she poured liquid fire down his throat to find his veins. His heart pounded. He found himself kissing her like a starved man, feeding off her. Wanting, even needing, more from her. It was never going to be enough. Never. Her taste was addicting, but it was that firestorm rushing through him, an experience he’d never had, that he knew he wanted for the rest of his life.

  He pulled her down on top of his chest, his arms closing around her, so that she sprawled over him like a blanket, her lips like warm silk on his. Her mouth was a flame of scorching heat that just seemed to grow hotter and hotter as it spread through him and settled in his groin.

  He knew if he didn’t stop soon, he wasn’t going to be able to. There was no halfway with her kisses. She simply gave herself to him—wholly surrendered to him. It was pure luxury, pure sin. A promise.

  Malichai forced himself to pull away. He framed her face with both hands, looking into her eyes. A man could get lost there and he was certain it had happened to him. There wasn’t a way out and he didn’t want one.

  “You kiss like sin, woman.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Did it feel bad?”

  She shook her head. He tucked stray strands of her hair behind her ear, his heart still pounding, but his mood far lighter. She wasn’t running from him, and that was all that mattered. Her small frown had him trying to erase it with his finger.

  “What is it?”

  “Lights. To the front of the house. Police lights.” She rolled off him with that grace he had come to expect but that still bothered him. She was that little bit too graceful. When she got to her feet, she was already on the move. There was no awkward pause or being off-balance. She was always on the correct foot to lead off, so she just moved from one position to the next so easily.

  He rolled over and watched her walk to the edge of the roof. She didn’t fear heights. She had perfect balance. She knew about him, at least something about him; he needed to take the opportunity to ask her questions. He didn’t want to, because more and more, he was becoming convinced that she was one of Whitney’s orphan girls and he didn’t want her to have to lie to him. That would hurt. He would understand, but it would still hurt.

  “Malichai. The cops are here. I have to go down to Marie.” There was wariness in her voice.

  He was up immediately. She seemed on the verge of flight, as if those cops might be there for her. “I’ll go down with you.”

  “It’s after midnight, why would they come at this hour?” She sounded scared.

  Malichai put his arm around her and pulled her in close as they made their way to the door leading back inside. The steps were narrow, so he moved in front of her, leading the way down from the attic, his larger frame protecting her. She slipped her fingers into his back pocket as they stepped into the hall, keeping a connection between them.

  “We’ll find out. There’s no use in speculating.”

  She didn’t move up beside him, and he didn’t insist. They went down the next flight of stairs to the main floor. Marie stood at the front door with two men in suits and an officer in a uniform. She turned toward them, relief immediate on her face.

  “Oh, good. Malichai. Amaryllis. Something terrible has happened to two of our guests.”

  “I’m Detective Duncan,” the taller of the two men in suits said. “This is Detective Brady. We have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

  Malichai could see that Marie was very distraught. He swept his arm around her. “Why don’t you come in, gentlemen. I’m Malichai Fortunes. This is Amaryllis.”

  He kept his body angled slightly to provide cover for the woman he considered his. Amaryllis was strangely nervous around the cops. Even if she was one of Whitney’s orphans, she shouldn’t have to worry—unless she didn’t have the proper paperwork. He hadn’t thought of that. And he had refused to send her name to his team. They had her photograph and Ezekiel had asked for more information on her, which meant she wasn’t in the facial recognition program.

  He stepped back from the door and allowed all three men into the building. Marie immediately led the way down the hall to her private sitting room.

  “Please sit down,” she invited. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? I do have a coffee cake if you’d like something with it.”

  Both detectives asked for coffee. The officer asked for both. No one took milk or sugar. Amaryllis jumped up to go fill the orders. Marie almost protested but then she settled in her chair.

  “Where do you fit in?” Duncan asked, turning toward Malichai.

  Malichai shrugged. “I’m actually here on vacation, a forced leave. Took a hit in my leg during a mission and was sent to relax somewhere. I’m dating Amaryllis and I do the dishes for them and help out however I can.”

  Duncan’s eyebrow nearly went through his scalp. “You’re on vacation but you’re working for the owner?”

  Malichai shook his head, wanting to be very clear. “No money exchanges hands. We’re friends. She needs help, I help her. It’s that simple. I can give you my unit and commander. They’ll verify I’m here at the moment on forced leave.”

  Malichai spotted Amaryllis with a tray and he immediately went to her and took it from her. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly.

  She took a deep breath and nodded. He didn’t believe her for a second, but he was willing to let it slide because there was no other choice. After the cops left, he was going to have to ask some hard questions. He didn’t want to. He wanted to spend time with her like a normal man with a woman he enjoyed being around.

  He watched her settle into one of the chairs across from the detectives as
he gave each man his coffee order. The chair was the only one large enough to hold both of them. He sank into the space beside her and instantly she snuggled closer to him—as if for protection. He had that distinct impression and hoped the cops didn’t get the same one.

  “Which guests?” Marie asked, one hand going defensively to her throat. “And did you say it was an accident?”

  “Anna and Bryon Cooper.”

  Amaryllis shook her head and caught at Malichai’s wrist. She was trembling. Marie let out a small cry, cut off in midstream.

  “That can’t be. They were here for dinner. They always walk on the beach before retiring for the night and they went out as they’ve done every night,” Marie said. “Amaryllis, you talked to them right before they left.”

  The detectives turned their gazes to Amaryllis and noted the way she was holding on to Malichai as if her life depended on it.

  “I didn’t catch your last name,” Duncan said, leaning a little toward Amaryllis.

  “It’s Johnson. Amaryllis Johnson.”

  “What do you do here?”

  “Whatever Marie needs me to do. I do a lot of housekeeping. Dishes. Cooking. That sort of thing.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “About a year.”

  “Tell me everything you remember about Anna and Bryon. Especially tonight. What went on tonight? Were they upset about anything? What did they say or do?”

  Malichai didn’t watch Duncan; instead, he turned his attention to Detective Brady, who had his phone out. Recording. Taking photographs. Making certain they were who they said they were. Whatever had happened to Anna and Bryon Cooper hadn’t been an accident.

  He shifted his weight slightly in the chair so that his much larger body protected Amaryllis from being easily seen by Detective Brady.

  “They didn’t seem upset. Anna was laughing at something Bryon said. She usually was. She found him hilarious. All of us did. He was very popular with all the guests.”

  “Was she? Was Anna popular with all the guests?” Duncan persisted.

  “Anna was much more reserved, and Bryon seemed protective of her. They were having a conversation about a bikini she’d purchased at one of the local shops. Bryon loved the bikini and wanted her to wear it on the beach tomorrow. She said no, it was for private swimming pools. He kept leering at her and chasing her around the hall. She was laughing so hard.” Amaryllis looked up to meet the detective’s eyes. “Did something really happen to her? To them? They were really nice.”

  Malichai swept his arm around her and pulled her beneath the shelter of his shoulder. Tears swam in her eyes and her lips trembled. She looked like she was about to plead with Duncan to save Anna and Bryon. “Baby,” he whispered softly, knowing what was coming.

  “I’m sorry, yes. Their bodies were found on the beach. It looks as if it was a murder-suicide. He killed her and then shot himself.”

  Amaryllis went rigid and then shook her head. “Absolutely not. No way did Bryon kill Anna. He absolutely would never do that.”

  “I agree,” Marie said staunchly. “They were so in love and Bryon doted on Anna. He would no more kill her than I’d kill Jacy. That’s not right.”

  “You only knew them for a week,” Duncan pointed out. “He could have hidden a dark side from you. Maybe she looked at some man wrong and he was very jealous.”

  “He wanted her to wear a tiny bikini on the beach,” Amaryllis contradicted him. “That’s not jealousy. He was very confident in the way Anna felt about him. I’m telling you, he would never kill Anna.”

  The two detectives exchanged a look. Malichai was almost certain neither believed the murder-suicide theory. Someone had murdered the couple and then tried to make it look like a murder-suicide. Easy enough when the couple were tourists, and no one really knew their personalities or what went on in their private business.

  “What else do you know about tonight, Ms. Johnson?” Duncan asked. “Did Anna or Bryon say anything to you personally?”

  Amaryllis sighed, exasperated that Duncan didn’t appear to be listening to her evaluation of Anna and Bryon. “Anna was laughing over the swimsuit and she asked me if I wore a bikini to the beach. She said she didn’t wear revealing clothes very often, but since they were on vacation, she was going to surprise Bryon and wear it. She had a cover-up.”

  She paused and when Malichai looked down at her, her eyes were swimming with tears, transforming them into twin jewels. Everything protective in him welled up so strong, he almost pulled her into his lap. He wanted to catch her up in his arms and carry her out of the room.

  “She planned to wear it tomorrow for him.” Her voice hitched and she pressed trembling fingers to her lips.

  “I’d like to see their room,” Detective Brady said to Marie. “Perhaps you would show me while Detective Duncan interviews Ms. Johnson.”

  “Of course,” Marie said, standing.

  Amaryllis gripped Malichai’s wrist and burrowed closer to his side. He knew she wasn’t aware she’d done so. “I hate this. I hate this so much. They were sweet, both of them. Marie’s business is finally paying off just when she needs it to. People will shy away once they hear about this. She’s wonderful and deserving. I think Anna was as well.”

  “What about Bryon?” Duncan persisted.

  Amaryllis frowned. Malichai took her hand and pressed her palm deep into the muscle of his thigh, his thumb sliding back and forth across the top, on her bare skin. Her fingers trembled against his warmth, and he pushed her palm deeper to assure her he wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to her.

  “I didn’t know him as well, although, like I said, he was hilarious. He often went running in the mornings and Anna would come into the dining room. I always sit at a little table after the guests have eaten. Malichai sits with me and we eat our breakfast. Anna would come in, sometimes Marie and Jacy, and we’d just talk about things together.”

  “What kinds of things?” Duncan persisted.

  “Her job. She and Bryon owned a very successful but small business, a small press. They did ads, brochures, little booklets, anything people wanted printed. They also did T-shirts and trophies. That sort of thing. She loved the people that came in, and so did Bryon. She talked mainly about him, how good he was with people, how charming he could be. She said she loved him so much because he never failed to help people.”

  Amaryllis turned her head to look up at Malichai. “We had that in common. I admitted to her that I felt that way about Malichai because he is the best man I’ve ever met. Working here, and living around the beach, believe me, I’ve met quite a few men.”

  Malichai brushed a kiss on top of her head. “Thanks, Amaryllis. I’m not certain it’s true, but I love the fact that you think I’m a good man.” He loved her all the more for that. Amaryllis was very sparing when talking about her feelings. She had just admitted that she cared a great deal for him. He had a chance with her after all.

  “How do you think Bryon felt about Anna?”

  “He loved her,” Malichai said. “It showed in the way he looked at her and all the things he did for her. The way he touched her. A man can tell, and Bryon loved Anna.”

  Amaryllis nodded and then pressed her face into Malichai’s side.

  “There’s something else,” Malichai said. “It’s thin, I’ll warn you of that. Very thin. Last week, when Amaryllis and I went to lunch at the café just up the block, we were sitting outside, and Anna and Bryon were sitting at a table straight across from me. There were several tables between us, but no people. I could see both of them clearly. They were holding hands, but they were arguing. Anna was very upset about something she’d overheard, and she wanted to go to the police. Bryon didn’t think she’d heard correctly, and they didn’t know who’d been speaking anyway.”

  “You heard them talking?” Duncan asked.

  Mal
ichai shook his head. He didn’t look at Amaryllis. “I read lips.”

  Duncan went silent, eyeing him carefully. “I will need the name of your unit and commander.”

  “Of course, no problem.” Malichai wanted to smile over that. He was so classified, he wondered if anyone would admit he was actually alive.

  “What did Anna hear?”

  “At that time, all I saw was that she wanted to tell someone—the police—and Bryon insisted she hadn’t heard enough to give them the heads-up on anything.”

  “You’re right. That’s pretty thin,” Duncan said, disappointment in his voice.

  “True, but then I got a late-night visit from another couple here. They were with Anna and Bryon Cooper at the beach and on their way back to the bed-and-breakfast when they discovered a little magic shop that’s just down the alleyway.”

  “I’m aware of it.”

  “According to Burnell and Jay, the four of them went in and wandered around, but no one was there to help them purchase anything. Anna and Burnell went to the counter to call out and they heard talking in the back behind the curtain. It sounded to Burnell and Anna as if one of those speaking in the back said something about killing the maximum amount of people. He repeated that phrase to me.”

  The detective leaned in closer. “This was at the magic shop.”

  Malichai nodded. “Then earlier today, Amaryllis and I ran into a local surfer named Dozer. He was upset, which I understand is unusual for him.”

  “I’m acquainted with Dozer.”

  “He knows the owner of the magic shop and he saw she hadn’t opened at her usual time and was concerned. A man answered her door and told him that Miss Crystal was vacationing with her son. Dozer pointed out she had no son and the man backtracked, saying she was vacationing with someone she regarded as a son. Then, when Dozer was surfing, a man in scuba gear tried to pull him off his surfboard before he caught a wave and, according to Dozer, tried to drown him. Dozer fought back. Now, he didn’t put those two things together, but he’d threatened the man at the magic shop with calling law enforcement and asking for a well check on Miss Crystal.”