Her Deadly Secrets

by Griffin, Laura

  After checking the window, Kira opened the door for Gina.

  “Oh, my God, wow.” Grinning, Gina stepped inside and gave Kira a hug.

  “What?”

  “Your smoking-hot bodyguard.”

  “That’s Jeremy,” Kira said. “And he’s no longer my bodyguard.”

  Gina smelled like perfume, and she was dressed to go out in a sexy black top. She craned her neck to see out the kitchen window. “What’s he doing back there?”

  “Getting the grill going.” Kira sat on the sofa arm. “We’re making hamburgers tonight.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  Gina smiled. “Well, isn’t that romantic?”

  “It’s just burgers. You can join us if you want.”

  “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to crash your date.” She stepped closer, and her smile vanished. “Hey, what happened to your neck there?”

  “Long story.”

  “Holy shit, don’t tell me he—”

  “Jeremy had nothing to do with it. He helped apprehend the person who did, so—”

  “What on earth happened?”

  Kira cast a glance through the kitchen window, and she could see Jeremy scrubbing down her grill with a metal brush he’d found somewhere. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him on her patio. He wore jeans and an untucked flannel shirt that made him look like a lumberjack. The weather was too hot for a long-sleeved shirt, but he wore it to conceal his gun.

  She turned to Gina, whose brow was furrowed with worry. Kira gave her the nutshell version, and Gina’s jaw dropped when she got to the attack in the hotel room. So she downplayed everything and emphasized the two arrests, making it sound like the case was all wrapped up.

  “Oh, my God, Kira. Are you really all right?”

  She glanced out the window again. “Jeremy’s here, so . . . yeah.” She forced a smile. “How are you?”

  “Great, compared to you. I’m headed out with Mike, but I wanted to let you know your car’s ready at the shop. You can pick it up tomorrow.”

  Guilt needled Kira, because she’d completely forgotten about it.

  “Thank you. And tell Mike how much I appreciate it. I’ll get Jeremy to take me over there.”

  Gina eyed her warily, and a smile spread over her face. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  Kira shrugged, but she didn’t deny it. “He has to leave soon, though.”

  “Why?”

  “He lives up in Cypress Springs.”

  Gina tipped her head to the side. “That’s not that far.”

  “And he travels a lot.”

  “Yeah, so what? When was the last time you fell hard for a guy?”

  Kira stared at her. She couldn’t answer because she didn’t remember. It had been years since she’d felt anything remotely like this. Maybe she never had.

  The door opened, and Jeremy stepped inside. Sweat beaded at his temples, and in his hand was a filthy metal brush.

  Kira cleared her throat. “Jeremy, this is Gina.”

  He nodded at her. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Gina smiled and looked at Kira. “Well, I’d better run. You guys have a nice dinner.”

  “You and Mike don’t want to join us?”

  “We’ve got plans, but thanks. Bye, Jeremy.”

  She slipped out, and Kira watched her leave, sure she was going to hear all about Jeremy’s hotness later. She glanced at him, and he looked tense suddenly.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Charlotte Spears just called me.”

  Her stomach knotted. “What now?”

  He walked into the kitchen and dropped the metal brush into the sink. Kira’s heart started to pound as he turned around.

  “They located Andre Markov.”

  “Oh, thank God.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you were going to tell me something bad.”

  Jeremy just looked at her, and she walked over to him.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “The feds apprehended him at the airport in Dallas. He was about to board a flight to Amsterdam. He’s in custody now and being charged with capital murder in the death of Ava Quinn.” He paused and watched her. “Craig Collins is being charged, too, because it looks like he arranged the hit on his sister to square up a debt.”

  Kira just stared at him. She’d known about this. She’d helped come up with this theory and uncovered evidence to support it. But theorizing about it was different from knowing that people had actually been arrested and charged with such a twisted scheme. She couldn’t imagine what Ava’s parents must be feeling right now. Not to mention Gavin, whose whole life had been destroyed.

  “So . . . that’s four arrests in one day,” she said. “Everything’s happening fast.”

  He nodded. “That’s the best news we could have had. Everything Andre Markov’s been trying to hide—the video evidence, his connection to Craig, his role in Ava’s murder—it’s all been exposed. Investigators have proof now, and he’s no longer a threat to you or anyone else involved in Gavin’s trial. The feds are closing in on his father, too.”

  “No, I get it. It’s all good.” She stepped around him to unpack the groceries.

  “Hey.”

  She turned around. “We should eat. I’m hungry.”

  He smiled and took her arm, gently tugging her toward him. “You know, for someone who’s a human lie detector, you’re pretty bad at it.”

  “Okay, fine. It’s not all good. But I don’t want to dwell on this. I want to put it behind me.”

  “I understand.”

  She gazed up at him. Then she hitched herself onto the counter, so she’d be closer to his eye level. “So . . . I’m wondering what comes next for you.”

  His eyes turned serious. He nodded, as though he’d expected the question. “My next assignment starts Friday.”

  Disappointment needled her, but she tried to keep her expression blank.

  “We’re headed to Bangkok with a client,” he said.

  “Another business mogul?”

  “No. This time, we’re going to an island off the southern coast. A magazine is shooting a swimsuit issue, and their cover model’s been getting death threats. Once the shoot wraps up, we go with her to a film festival in Hong Kong, so it’s about three weeks, door-to-door.”

  “You don’t sound excited.”

  “I’m not.”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? A tropical photo shoot with a bunch of supermodels?”

  “It’s going to be a pain in the ass. It’s some remote island, with bad cell reception and no AC.”

  She snorted. “I thought you were a big, tough Marine.”

  “I am.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. She draped her arms over his shoulders and gave in to it, even though she knew she was just sliding further and further down a slippery slope. He tasted so good, and it was the first time she’d kissed him this way since last night.

  He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “I travel a lot.”

  She sighed.

  “Is that a deal breaker for you?”

  She eased back. “I didn’t know we were making a deal.”

  He looked down at her, his blue eyes serious. “I like you, Kira. I like spending time with you.” He paused. “I’d like to see if we can make this work.”

  She kissed him again, because she didn’t know what to say. Her heart was pounding, and she didn’t have the words for how she felt. She only knew that she liked him, too—a lot—and the thought of him surrounded by swimsuit models and movie stars for the next three weeks put a painful knot in her chest.

  But for right now, she had him. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, and his hand slid under her sweatshirt, and he gave a low groan as he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra. She combed her fingers into his hair, kissing him until she couldn’t breathe, and finally she came up for air.

  His gaze was heated. But she
could tell he was still waiting for a response to what he’d said.

  He kissed her forehead. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I know you’re dealing with a lot right now.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “I want to see where this goes, too.”

  He looked at her, and she summoned her courage.

  “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

  “It’s not that long. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m done.”

  Kira wanted to believe him. But he was making promises he might not want to keep, and this was why she hadn’t wanted to have this conversation today. She felt too emotional.

  She cleared her throat and looked out the window at the grill. “Looks like your fire’s ready.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I know.”

  He slid his arms around her. “Let’s eat later.”

  She smiled. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” He picked her up, and she clamped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  KIRA HUNG the picture on the hook and stepped back to check it. It was crooked, and she reached over to nudge up the corner. Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back. Ollie had loved this newspaper clipping, and his daughter had offered it to Kira when she went over to the office to help sort through the mess. Kira had replaced the broken glass and reframed the clip, grateful to have a reminder of Ollie in her new space.

  “You’re an Astros fan?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Brock standing in the doorway.

  “It was Ollie’s.”

  “Nice.” He stepped into the room filled with half-unpacked boxes. “You’re making progress,” he said, glancing around.

  “Yep.”

  “Sorry you don’t have a window.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Kira couldn’t care less about a window. She could hardly believe she had an actual office, with four walls, at Logan & Locke.

  Brock had offered to bring her in-house for a hefty salary, and she’d jumped at the chance. At least for a while. She’d see how things went, and she could always go it alone if it didn’t work out. The new arrangement meant giving up her space at WorkWell and her other clients, but she didn’t mind. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to wonder where the next gig was coming from.

  Brock reached over a cardboard box and handed her a stack of papers.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Some background on my case for next week. I’d like your help with voir dire.”

  She felt a flutter of excitement. More jury consulting. “Sounds good.”

  “We start at eight thirty Monday. Bev will get you the details, but I wanted you to have something to read over the weekend.”

  “Got it.”

  She put the papers on her desk and looked at Brock. He had started to say something else when her desk phone rang, and Kira reached for it, glad for the distraction. The last time Brock had stopped by her office at five o’clock, he’d asked her out for a drink, and she’d politely declined. She needed to establish boundaries with him if she wanted this new job to work.

  The call was from Sydney at the reception desk.

  “Yes?” Kira said.

  “You’ve got a delivery here.”

  Brock gave her a nod and stepped out.

  “I’m heading out for the day, so I’ll leave it on my desk,” Sydney added.

  “Thanks. See you on Monday.”

  Kira hung up and looked around her office. Her office. It was small and crowded and, yes, windowless. But it was hers, and she felt a swell of pride every time she stepped into it. She had several more boxes to unpack and organize, and she still had to set up her computer, but she could do all that later. She’d made enough headway for one day.

  Kira slid Brock’s papers into her messenger bag, excited by the prospect of more jury consulting work, as well as the chance to prove herself to Brock and his partners. And she was glad to have something to do this weekend that would take her mind off Jeremy, who had barely talked to her in three days. Their last phone call had been rushed and distracted, and he’d caught her at four in the morning because of the time difference.

  He’d said he missed her. But as soon as they hung up, Kira was flooded with doubts. She hated phone calls. She wanted to see his body language. She wanted to read his eyes and know what he really felt when he said the words.

  Lately, she’d found herself doing silly, pointless things. Like checking the weather in Thailand. And sleeping in the flannel shirt she’d borrowed. And stopping in the middle of her workday to wonder whether he missed her even a fraction as much as she missed him. She yearned for him so much it was a physical ache in her chest—one that subsided when she was busy but never truly went away.

  Kira grabbed her bike helmet and clipped it to her messenger bag. She cast a last look at Ollie’s news clipping on the wall before switching off the light and heading out. She wended her way through the labyrinth of cubicles and saw that some of the lawyers were still around, but most of the support staff had left for the day.

  Kira stepped into the reception room, where Sydney was clearing off her desk and gathering up her purse.

  “Special delivery,” Sydney said with a grin. She nodded at the window.

  Jeremy stood there, watching her.

  Kira’s heart skittered.

  “You’re back,” she said, crossing the room.

  He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead.

  “I thought you got in Monday?”

  “I grabbed an early flight.” He smiled down at her, and she felt a flood of nerves.

  “Good night, you guys.”

  “Night.” Jeremy nodded at Sydney, then looked at Kira.

  She gazed up at him, speechless. He wore jeans and his scarred leather jacket, and he was tall and solid and wonderful. His face was tan, and she thought of all the hours he’d spent on a beach surrounded by gorgeous women while she’d been missing him like crazy.

  “You’re leaving?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He took her hand, and they walked toward the elevators.

  “This way,” she said, tugging him to the service elevator, where they’d have a better chance of being alone.

  Sure enough, the car arrived empty. They stepped onto it, and Jeremy must have read her thoughts, because he pressed the button and kissed her as the doors closed. He tasted so good, and he kissed her with the same pent-up desire she’d been feeling for weeks.

  Finally, he pulled away, and the heated look in his eyes made her nerves flutter.

  He tapped the lobby button, and the car whisked down.

  “I take it your car’s in the shop?” He nodded at her helmet.

  “Actually, it’s gone.” She sighed. “Finally gave up the ghost last week. I’m headed to CarMax this weekend.”

  The doors dinged open, and they stepped out. The ground level was bustling with people heading home for the night, and Kira couldn’t believe that less than a month ago, Gavin Quinn had been shot and nearly killed in this same lobby.

  “Where to?” Jeremy asked.

  “I’m right out front.”

  He put his hand on the small of her back, and Kira felt another flurry of nerves as they walked to the doors and stepped outside. The summer heat had finally broken, and a gentle September breeze wafted over them.

  She glanced up at him as they walked toward the bike rack.

  “When did you arrive?”

  “This afternoon,” he said. “Hong Kong to LAX to Houston.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” She shook her head as they stopped beside the row of bikes.

  “I said I’d come.”

  “I know.”

  He was a man of few words. But the words he said he meant. She looked up at him, and his blue eyes wer
e filled with such sincerity it made her heart hurt. And she knew that she loved him. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. She wanted to tell him, but she decided to save it for a time when they weren’t surrounded by people and noise and car exhaust.

  He bent his head down and kissed her again, and it was even hotter than before in the elevator. She slid her hands around his neck and pressed her body against his, loving the solid feel of him. She’d missed him desperately, and she hadn’t even realized how much until this moment.

  He eased back, looking as dazed as she felt.

  “Will you stay the weekend?”

  He sighed. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”

  Her heart squeezed, and she knelt to unlock her bike. She remembered the moment she’d met him, right here on this sidewalk. She’d had no idea that her life was about to change forever.

  She unlocked the chain, and he picked up the bike.

  “Can I give you a ride?” he asked.

  She smiled up at him. This time, she didn’t argue.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  SO MANY people helped make this book possible. Thank you to my talented editor, Lauren McKenna. I am grateful to the amazing team at Simon & Schuster, including Abby Zidle, Jean Anne Rose, Hannah Payne, Maggie Loughran, and Matthew Monahan, as well as Paul O’Halloran and the foreign rights group. A very special thank-you to Jen Long, Jen Bergstrom, and Carolyn Reidy. As always, I owe a huge thanks to my longtime agent and friend, Kevan Lyon.

  I’m incredibly grateful to my readers, who make writing the best job in the world, as well as the many book bloggers out there who spread their love of reading. And finally, a heartfelt thanks to my family for always believing in me. I love you guys!

  ‘Desperate Girls is a nail-biting read

  from the very first page to the final, shocking twist.

  I could not put this book down’

  Melinda Leigh

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