Dangerous Deception

by Beverly Barton

  Lausanne groaned. “You think Audrey Perkins is dead, don’t you?”

  “I figure it’s a good possibility. Whoever killed Bobby Jack probably killed Audrey. Unless…”

  Lausanne’s nerves rioted. “Unless I’m lying? Unless I killed Bobby Jack? Unless—”

  “Unless Audrey killed Bobby Jack,” Dom said.

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. And I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion, that you’d automatically think I was the one who’d killed Bobby Jack.”

  He held out his hand to her. She stared at that simple truce offer, his outstretched hand, and hesitated accepting.

  “This trust business works both ways, honey,” he told her. “If you want me to trust you, to believe in you, then you’re going to have to reciprocate. You’re going to have to trust me.”

  “Hmph.” Lausanne stared at Dom’s hand. “I guess I’ve been so concerned about your not trusting me that I didn’t think about the fact that I’m having just as difficult a time trusting you.”

  “I’m not asking for unconditional trust,” he said. “But we have to start somewhere. I’m not making any promises and you don’t have to, either.” He wiggled the fingers on his outstretched hand. “Let’s make a bargain that we’ll work at building the trust between us.”

  “I can do that.” She put her hand in his.

  He led her over to the sofa. When they sat down, each turned to face the other. Not touching, they sat there, their gazes connected.

  “I don’t think you killed Audrey Perkins or Bobby Jack Cash,” he said.

  She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I didn’t. I don’t have it in me to kill. If I did, believe me, I’d have killed my stepmother, years ago, when I was sixteen.”

  He reached over, lifted a strand of her hair and curled it around her ear, then glided his fingertips across her jaw before removing his hand. “Is she the reason you ran away from home?”

  “Just how thorough is that check you ran on me?” Lausanne couldn’t look away. He held her spellbound with the tender concern she saw in his black eyes.

  “Just a preliminary check. Basic facts.” He paused, then said, “Dundee’s is running an extensive check on you. Edward Bedell requested it and he’s our client.”

  Bubble bursting. “For a few minutes there, I’d forgotten that fact, that you’re working for Mr. Bedell.”

  “If the time comes when your best interests conflict with my doing the job I was hired to do, I’ll ask my boss to send in another agent.”

  Huh? Had she heard that right? “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying that if I have to choose between protecting you and doing my job, I’ll take myself off the Bedell case.”

  “Oh, Dom.” She barreled into him, threw her arms around him and kissed him.

  After she’d dotted his face with grateful kisses, she pulled back and smiled at him. “Please, don’t be lying to me.”

  “I’ll make you one promise here and now. I promise that from here on out, I’ll never lie to you.”

  She nodded. “And I promise you the same. I’ll never lie to you ever again.”

  He took both of her hands in his. “You have to go to the police and tell them that the woman who hired you was not Audrey Perkins.”

  “What good will that do? They won’t believe me.”

  “They might. But your best bet is to be honest with them from now on. It’s up to them whether or not they believe you.”

  “I wish I had some idea who the woman was.” Lausanne tried to remember exactly what the woman had looked like, what she’d been wearing, how she’d spoken.

  “She had red hair and I believe her eyes were blue, but they could have been gray. They definitely weren’t brown. And she was taller than I am, maybe five-six, but she was slender and rather pretty.”

  “And she was young?” Dom asked. “About your age?”

  “Yes, probably between twenty-five and thirty-five. Definitely no older.”

  “What about her voice? Her mannerisms?”

  “A typical East Tennessee accent. As for her mannerisms—Wait, there was something, now that I think about it.”

  “What?”

  “She seemed nervous.”

  “How?”

  “Fidgety, like she wasn’t comfortable in her own house or her own skin for that matter. I just chalked it up to her being anxious about running off with her lover.”

  “She was concerned that you might figure out she wasn’t really Audrey Perkins.”

  “That was probably it.” Lausanne asked aloud the question that had been nagging at her ever since she realized the woman who’d hired her wasn’t Audrey. “Why would someone other than Audrey hire me to impersonate her?”

  “Good question.”

  “Got any ideas?”

  “At least a dozen,” he replied. “But I could be dead wrong about all of them. The best way to find out the answer to your question is to find the woman who hired you.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “First thing in the morning, we’ll talk to Bain Desmond. If he believes us, we’ll go from there.”

  If he believes us. Us. That one word repeated itself in Lausanne’s mind and in her heart. Dom hadn’t said if he believes you; he’d said if he believes us.

  “And if he doesn’t believe us?”

  “Then we’ll do our own investigation.”

  “We will?”

  “Yes, we will, starting with other Bedell, Inc. employees. If Grayson Perkins or the stepmother or the sister got somebody to pose as Audrey so she could hire you, then it’s possible that they used another employee…someone they already knew.”

  “How are you going to conduct a private investigation for me while you’re working for Mr. Bedell?” Lausanne asked.

  “I’ll be doing the investigation for Mr. Bedell,” Dom told her. “Once he learns that his daughter didn’t hire you, but someone else posing as her, he’ll want to know that woman’s identity, won’t he?”

  “Oh, Dom, you’re right.”

  “Her father wants to find out what happened to Audrey and so do you. You both want the same thing—the truth.”

  “I should have told you about this as soon as I realized Audrey wasn’t the person who hired me, but I didn’t know what to do, who to trust, so I kept it to myself.”

  “You do realize that whoever attacked you in Palm Beach and again tonight might have tried to kill you so that you couldn’t identify the woman who hired you.”

  Nausea. A sick, sinking feeling in the pit of her belly. She was such an idiot. Why had she ever thought she could make some easy money, have a little fun and not pay the piper? She’d paid dearly for every mistake she’d ever made. Paid with the loss of her baby, paid with five years of her life. Now, she might pay the ultimate price.

  Dom pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, with no resistance, needing him more than she’d ever needed anyone. He held her close, his mouth soft against her temple as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I know you’re scared,” he said. “I’m scared for you, honey. You’ve gotten yourself into a real mess.”

  “It isn’t the first time. I seem to be really good at screwing up and getting myself into trouble. I thought that was all over, that finally I’d learned how to stay out of trouble.” She buried her face in his shoulder and clung to him. “I’m the worst kind of bad news. You should run from me while you can.”

  Yeah, why should Dom stick around, when no one else ever had? No matter what he said or did, she had to remember one thing—she couldn’t count on him for the long haul. She couldn’t count on anyone except herself.

  Needing another person was a sign of weakness. Oh, God, how she wished she could be weak, that she could be needy, that she could forget the harsh lessons she’d learned through sheer misery.

  Dom pressed his lips against her temple and kissed her, a featherlight touch, his breath warm against her skin. “I’m not go
ing anywhere. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” He slipped his hand under her chin and cradled it between his thumb and forefinger; then tilted her face so that they could look into each other’s eyes. “I’m a sucker for damsels in distress.”

  She mustn’t cry. Crying showed weakness. The first few weeks in the TPFW, she’d cried herself to sleep every night, but she’d soon learned that crybabies got pushed around and taken advantage of by the hardasses. It hadn’t taken her long to toughen up, to at least fake being a hardass herself.

  “I stopped believing in white knights coming to the rescue a long time ago,” she told him.

  He ran his thumb across her bottom lip. She sucked in a surprised breath.

  “Maybe you stopped believing too soon. Maybe your white knight just hadn’t shown up…until now.”

  Her heart fluttered foolishly. Don’t listen to him. Don’t fall for his line, albeit a great line. Dom Shea wants what every other man in your life has wanted—to get in your pants. As soon as he’s had you, as soon as he’s used you for his own needs, he’ll walk away and never look back.

  At least this time, she knew what he wanted, knew how things would end. She had no expectations beyond a day by day relationship built on physical attraction. If he’d just stick around long enough to help her out of this jam, that would be enough. She’d use him. He’d use her. They’d both get something out of it. No harm. No foul.

  And it wasn’t as if she’d have to pretend she wanted him. Her body ached with wanting him.

  It had been a long time since she’d been intimate with a man. Over five years. Not since Clay. Not since she’d been barely twenty-one. And even back then she hadn’t been all that experienced. What she’d been was a sadly used and abused kid who so desperately wanted to be loved.

  Lausanne wrapped her arms around Dom’s neck, then she looked at him, hoping her gaze conveyed her feelings. She’d never seduced a man in her life and wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, actually wasn’t even sure it was what she wanted. But she figured it was what he wanted, maybe even what he expected from a woman like her.

  With half closed eyelids, she scooted closer, pressing herself against him until her mouth brushed his. “Domingo Shea, I’m going to kiss you and kiss you and—”

  Dom didn’t wait for her to finish speaking or for her to make the next move. Before she realized what was happening, he took her mouth in a hungry, devouring move that left her dizzy and weak. Without thinking, only feeling, she responded eagerly. Opening her mouth, she kissed him back, giving as good as she got.

  Every cell in her body came alive. Vividly, bouncing-off-the-walls alive. Without being consciously aware of what she was doing, Lausanne inched the fingers of her right hand up the back of his neck. Her fingertips embedded themselves in his short, thick hair. Using her left hand, she gripped his shoulder tightly.

  His big hands held her, caressing her tenderly, but not intimately; and all the while Dom and she kept on kissing and kissing…until almost breathless, they broke apart. They looked at each other, the longing between them palpable, so real and honest that neither of them could deny it.

  With his hands around her waist and hers twined behind his neck, they sat there in silence for endless moments.

  Dom finally spoke. “Wow, lady, you sure know how to curl a guy’s toes.”

  The tightness in her chest eased and she was able to breathe normally again; then she smiled. “You’re some kisser yourself, Mr. Shea.”

  “Thanks, I’ve never had any complaints.”

  How many other women had he kissed? Dozens? Hundreds? “I guess practice makes perfect, huh?”

  “In my case, maybe. But I’ll bet not in yours.”

  She blinked, slightly taken off guard by his comment. “Why do you say that? I thought you liked the way I kissed you? Did I do something wrong, something that made you think I don’t have a lot of experience?”

  Acting so quickly that she had no time to protest or even react, Dom lifted her onto his lap, then wrapped his arms around her so that she couldn’t escape.

  “I loved the way you kissed me,” he told her. “You did everything absolutely right…for a beginner.”

  “A beginner!”

  When she tried to escape, he refused to release her. “It was a compliment, honey. You’re a natural. You did curl my toes. Just think what you’d do to me if you had more experience.”

  “You know that I’m not a virgin,” she said defensively. “I haven’t been since I was seventeen. And I’ve had more than one lover.”

  “Hmm…They must have been a couple of duds.”

  “What makes you think there have been only two?”

  “Intuition.”

  “Oh.”

  “Am I right?” he asked.

  She shrugged. His intuition was a little too accurate to suit her.

  “Number one was the guy who knocked you up when you were seventeen,” Dom said. “And number two was the guy who got you sent to prison for being his accomplice in a convenience store robbery.”

  “Okay, let’s say that you’re right. So, if you get to know about the men in my past, do I get to know about the women in yours?”

  “I’ve never been married, never been engaged, have no children and have been in love only once. She preferred my big brother, but in the end, she married somebody else. I’ve made love to maybe a dozen different women and I’ve had just sex with possibly a dozen more.”

  He’d been with at least twenty-four different women. That didn’t surprise her. What surprised her was that there hadn’t been more.

  “For me, it was making love,” she told him. “For both of them, it was just sex. I’ve never had a man make love to me.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers, took a deep breath and whispered huskily, “Then I’ll be your first.”

  Her eyes widened with anticipation and wonder. “You’re going to make love to me?”

  He lifted his head, then cupped her face between his open palms. “Yeah, honey, I’m going to make love to you.”

  Gulping, she stared at him questioningly. “Tonight?”

  He chuckled. “No. Tonight isn’t the right time. You’re not ready. We’re both still working on our trust issues.”

  “Oh. No, not tonight. Not yet.” She didn’t want him to leave her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stay.

  “No lovemaking tonight, but I’d like to stay, spend the night, if you’ll let me,” he said, as if reading her mind.

  “You don’t have to.” But please stay. Don’t leave me alone.

  “I want to stay,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the sofa. I’m not going to leave you alone, not after what happened tonight.”

  My protector. My white knight. Oh God, Lausanne, don’t do this to yourself. Don’t kid yourself. Whatever’s going on between you and Dom won’t last. It’s a temporary thing. No promises. No commitments on either side.

  “Okay, you can stay.” She pulled away from him and stood.

  “Thanks.”

  She offered him a shaky smile. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.” She headed toward the bedroom.

  “Lausanne?”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she paused in the open doorway. “Yeah?”

  “You wanted me to stay, didn’t you?”

  “Sure…if you want to.”

  He grinned. She hurried into the bedroom, got an extra blanket from the closet and the second pillow from her bed, then took the items back into the living room.

  Dom had removed his jacket and hung it on the back of a bar stool. When she approached him, he turned and took the blanket and pillow from her, then tossed them on the sofa.

  “You’d better turn in and try to get some sleep,” Dom said. “I’m going to call Bain Desmond and ask him to come over here first thing in the morning. Knowing that the woman who hired you wasn’t Audrey Perkins should take some of the suspicion off you.”

  “That’s assuming he believes me.”


  “I think he might. Desmond’s smart. He’ll know the truth when he hears it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LAUSANNE WOKE to the smell of coffee, and for a couple of groggy seconds wondered where that delicious aroma was coming from. Then she remembered that Dom had spent the night. On her sofa. He must have prepared the coffee. Yawning as she threw back the covers and stretched, Lausanne smiled. She had slept soundly, but only because she’d known she was safe, that Dom was nearby. Crawling out of bed, she reminded herself not to get used to having Dom around. Once the Audrey Perkins case was solved, he’d go back to Atlanta, back to his real life, and she’d be alone again.

  After using the bathroom, washing her hands and face and brushing her hair, she put on a matching robe over her beige silk pajamas, both purchased while she’d been impersonating Audrey. When she entered the living room, she noted that Dom had folded his blanket and laid the pillow on top of it. Both rested on the sofa arm. She scanned the living room and the open kitchenette and found both empty. Where was Dom? Had he set the coffeemaker and then left?

  Just as a wave of disappointment washed over Lausanne, the front door opened and Dom, with two paper sacks in one hand, came breezing in, whistling. After removing her key from the lock, he kicked the door closed behind him. When he turned around, he saw her.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  Her stomach flip-flopped. Because he’d called her beautiful? Or because she was so glad to see him? “Good morning.”

  “Sleep well?” He walked through the living room and set the two sacks down on the bar.

  “Yes, quite well, thank you.”

  “Hungry?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You’d better be,” he told her, a humorous twinkle in his eye. “I made a quick run to the bakery.” He lifted one sack. “We have cinnamon rolls.” He set that sack down and lifted the other. “And French toast sticks.”

  “You’ve been very busy this morning, haven’t you?” She took a good look at him. He was clean-shaven and neat despite his slacks and shirt being slightly wrinkled from him having slept in them. “You’ve showered, shaved, made coffee and gone out for breakfast, while I slept late.”