What Are You Afraid Of?

Matthew shrugged. “Sometimes for business.” There was a loud snort from Baylor. Matthew chuckled. “Mostly for pleasure,” he admitted.

  “I’ve been crossing the country for the past year.” She offered an encouraging smile, as if she was fascinated by his journeys. “I’m surprised we’ve never bumped into each other.”

  “Actually, we were in the same city. At least for a few hours,” he surprisingly told her.

  Her heart missed a beat and she felt Griff stiffen at her side. “Really?”

  “Yes. I was in Chicago for the opening of a friend’s nightclub when I saw you on the local television station talking about your book.”

  Carmen frowned. Her book signing in Chicago had been over six months ago.

  “Why didn’t you contact me?” she asked.

  His smile remained, but she sensed a sudden wariness. He was hiding something.

  “I thought about calling the station to get your number, but I was afraid they would think I was some weirdo.” He lifted his hands in a dismissive gesture. “And besides, I wasn’t sure you would even want to see me.”

  With a sharp motion, Baylor was on his feet. Was he afraid that Carmen could sense Matthew was lying?

  “We should go,” the younger man announced.

  Matthew scowled. “We haven’t had a drink yet.”

  “I’m sure if we checked your blood alcohol it would be over the limit from last night,” Baylor mocked.

  Genuine annoyance tightened the older man’s handsome features. “You nag like a wife. It’s no wonder I’ve never wanted to get married.”

  Baylor grabbed his brother’s arm, sending Carmen an impatient glance.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

  Her lips twitched. It was difficult to imagine how he could have made the words sound less enthusiastic.

  “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dusk came early. Along with it was a brisk breeze that made Hunter shiver as he paced along the edge of the lake. Not the sort of night anyone wanted to be out walking, but it was the only way he could be assured of privacy.

  He needed to think. And revise his plan.

  The last thing he’d expected was for Carrie to travel to Louisville. She was supposed to be in Baltimore, following the clues he’d so conveniently left for her. It should have taken her days. Even a week.

  That would have given him time to do his duty here, and then travel to his next location to complete the next act in his ongoing drama.

  His first impulse had been to kill her.

  He had a feral desire to lay her in a nearby field, her golden curls spread around her head like a halo. Her eyes would be wide with wonderment as he revealed himself to her. Then, he would slowly slide a knife into her heart.

  In the garden of memory, in the palace of dreams . . .

  He would watch her blood seep into the ground. His ground.

  And he would be free. Free of the past. Free of his nightmares.

  But even as his dark desires had tried to lure him into a hasty finale, he’d resisted temptation.

  There were still games to be played, he’d sternly reminded himself. And women to be savored. Not to mention a couple loose ends that needed to be tidied up.

  No. He would have to wait. Which meant that his timeline was screwed. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he prepared to start making the necessary calls.

  At the same time, he glanced around at his surroundings, a wistful regret tugging at his heart.

  “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then,” he whispered.

  December 25, Louisville, KY

  Griff rose early. It wasn’t just that he’d wanted to sort through the vast amount of information his program had managed to collect overnight. Or the fact that he’d been awake since five o’clock with his body clenched with a frustrated desire.

  The information, after all, could wait. And he’d made the conscious decision after returning to their room yesterday not to pursue the erotic awareness that sizzled between him and Carmen.

  Being in Louisville was draining her spirit. He’d seen it in the slump of her shoulders and her weary expression as she’d wandered around the room.

  When she came to his bed, he wanted her warm and willing and whole.

  Nope, the reason he was up at the crack of dawn had been to make sure that the surprise he’d put into motion yesterday had arrived.

  Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a charcoal sweater, he headed down to the lobby. Thirty minutes later he had a slender package tucked in his pocket and a tray loaded with coffee, scones, and pots of jam and cream.

  He’d just returned to the room and crossed to set the tray on the low coffee table when a noise had him turning toward the guest bedroom.

  Carmen.

  Instant awareness heated his blood as his gaze skimmed over her damp curls and her rosy cheeks. His attention lowered to her slender body, which was covered by a terry cloth robe.

  She’d clearly just stepped out of the shower, and her citrus scent filled the room.

  “Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he murmured.

  She appeared momentarily flustered, as if she’d forgotten what day it was, and then she was moving toward the tray with brisk steps.

  “Has your computer program found anything?” she asked.

  “We can discuss it later,” he assured her, watching with pleasure as she filled a plate with three scones and a large dollop of cream. He didn’t know where she put the food, but he loved knowing that he could provide it for her.

  Like he was some primal animal.

  She took a large bite of the scone, unaware of his weird thoughts. Then she gave a shake of her head.

  “No, I’d rather concentrate on our investigation.”

  He arched a brow. “It’s Christmas.”

  “And I’m about to spend it with the family I never wanted to see again, in a house where my parents died,” she reminded him in dry tones.

  He grimaced. She had a point.

  “Okay.”

  He crossed the room to the desk next to the large window. Sliding out the leather chair, he took a seat and pulled up the program he’d used to investigate Lawrence Jacobs’s finances.

  A silence filled the room as he sorted through the vast amount of information he’d already managed to gather. Most of it he deleted. He was more interested in the past than the current accounts.

  At last he heaved a frustrated sigh. “So far it looks like Lawrence was telling the truth about the family business. It was running in the red before Lawrence closed the stores and sold the properties to pay off the creditors,” he told her.

  She sat aside her empty plate and leaned over his shoulder. Instantly he was surrounded by her warm scent.

  “And the estate?” she asked.

  Griff cleared his throat, trying to pretend he wasn’t reacting to her like a hormonal teenage boy.

  “Your grandfather’s will is written to make certain that house is to be passed to the oldest son.”

  She moved back, turning to pace toward the large windows. “So my uncle has no reason to try to get rid of me.”

  Griff grimaced. He truly believed the stalker had some connection to her past. But so far it was nothing more than gut instinct.

  He needed proof before he could try to involve the authorities.

  “I’m continuing to search,” he assured her, his brows tugged together as he skimmed over Lawrence’s private bank accounts. “Your uncle managed to use a large influx of cash to purchase three new big-box stores after your father’s death, but the accounts are so tangled together that it’s impossible to unravel where the money actually came from without more information.”

  She heaved a rueful sigh. “We should have gone to Baltimore.”

  Rising to his feet, Griff moved to stand next to Carmen, who continued to admire the view. Who could blame her? The morning sun was bright in the cloudless blue sky, while a layer of fro
st added a glittering beauty to the buildings that curved along the edge of the Ohio River.

  A perfect Christmas morning. A damned shame they were going to waste the day with the Jacobs family.

  “Before you start any ‘I told you so’s,’ I have something for you,” he said.

  Clearly surprised by his soft words, she turned to face him. “For me?”

  He pulled the long, narrow package from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “For you.”

  She studied the gold paper that was neatly wrapped around the box and the tiny bow.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Do you ask Santa Claus where he gets his gifts?” He reached to tuck a curl behind her ear. “It’s Christmas magic.”

  “But I didn’t—”

  “Shh.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Just open it.”

  She wavered for a minute, then, lowering her gaze, she ripped off the paper and pulled the top off the box.

  Griff stepped closer, watching as her face softened with shocked pleasure at the sight of the gold bracelet with antique charms that was nestled into the ivory satin.

  “Oh, Griff.” She lightly touched a charm in the shape of a seashell with a dusting of tiny diamonds. “It’s perfect.”

  Satisfaction raced through him. He’d contacted a friend who owned one of the most exclusive antique stores in L.A. He’d told him he wanted something unique. A special gift for a special lady. Then he’d paid an obscene amount of money to have it shipped overnight on Christmas Eve.

  And it had been worth every penny.

  “Good,” he murmured softly.

  She lifted her head, her expression oddly vulnerable. “I mean it,” she insisted. “This is exactly what I love.”

  His lips twitched as he reached into the box to pull out the bracelet.

  “Does that surprise you?” he demanded, fastening the ends of the chain around her slender wrist.

  The tiny charms filled the air with a tinkling sound as they moved, Carmen’s eyes wide with an emotion he didn’t understand.

  “I think it frightens me,” she said.

  Griff threaded his fingers through hers, tugging her until they were just an inch apart.

  “Why?”

  Her lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Because in a few days you know more about me than most people who’ve been my friend for years.”

  He lifted her hand, pressing her fingers against his mouth. He didn’t doubt for a second that she was telling him the truth. She kept herself so closely guarded it was almost impossible for people to ever know the true Carmen Jacobs.

  The thought that he was one of the very few to ever be allowed past her defensive walls humbled him.

  “I intend to know you even better before this day is over,” he assured her in husky tones.

  A flush of awareness touched her cheeks. “Griff.”

  With a low growl he dropped her hands. Now wasn’t the time to start something they couldn’t finish.

  “Get dressed and we’ll go to your family lunch,” he forced himself to say. “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave and enjoy the rest of our day.”

  She glanced down at the charm bracelet around her wrist before sending him a wary frown.

  “You said I was dangerous, but I suspect I’m an amateur when it comes to you, Griffin Archer.”

  She turned to hurry back into her private bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Left alone, Griff pivoted to look down on the city that was still enjoying a sleepy Christmas morning. He didn’t feel dangerous.

  He felt . . .

  Hell, he didn’t know.

  And, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to waste his energy trying to figure it out. Not when he needed to focus his attention exclusively on protecting Carmen.

  An hour later they’d left the hotel and driven across Louisville to pull to a halt in front of the house.

  Turning off the truck’s engine, he pocketed the key and turned to study his companion.

  She looked beautiful. Of course. Her curls tumbled to her shoulders with a shimmer of gold. Her skin was as smooth as silk, and her eyes as blue as the winter sky.

  She was wearing the same skirt from yesterday with a soft red sweater that clung to the slender curves of her body.

  His heart skipped with a familiar jolt of awareness.

  It was ridiculous. He’d been in her constant company for three days. This giddy awareness that blasted through him each time he glanced in her direction should be gone.

  Or at least dulled to a manageable zap that didn’t make him feel like he was being struck by lightning.

  He gave a faint shake of his head, forcing himself to concentrate on her tense expression.

  “Ready for this?”

  She wrinkled her nose, unhooking her seat belt as she shoved open the passenger door.

  “Like you said. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave.”

  She slipped on her coat and crawled out of the truck, heading toward the door. Griff was moving to catch up to her brisk strides when a shadow appeared from the side of the house.

  “Carrie.”

  Carmen whirled around to face the man with a narrow, pock-marked face and pale eyes. Ronnie Hyde. The son of the housekeeper that Griff had seen Carmen speaking to when he’d returned to the house with Lawrence.

  Griff muttered a curse as he hurried to Carmen’s side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Some protector he was.

  He hadn’t even noticed the man lurking in the shadows.

  “Good morning, Ronnie,” Carmen said.

  “I was hoping I could catch you before you went inside,” Ronnie said, ignoring Griff as if he wasn’t standing directly in front of him.

  “Do you need something?” Carmen asked.

  The pale eyes darted toward the house before returning to Carmen.

  “I thought you might walk with me to the lake.”

  Griff felt Carmen stiffen in surprise. “Now?”

  He gave a jerky nod. “I have something I think you should know.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

  “Carmen,” Griff growled. Even if she wasn’t being harassed by a mysterious stalker, he wouldn’t let her waltz off with this man.

  Not only had it been years since she’d known him, but he had a furtive quality about him that Griff didn’t like.

  “This won’t take long,” Ronnie promised, continuing to act as if Griff was invisible.

  “Fine.” Griff tugged Carmen tight against his side. “I’m coming with you.”

  No doubt sensing the sudden tension that sizzled in the air, Carmen swiveled her head, glancing from one man to the other.

  “I don’t think you were introduced yesterday,” she at last said. “Ronnie, this is Griff Archer. Griff, this is Ronald Hyde.”

  Ronnie didn’t hold out his hand. Neither did Griff.

  Mutual dislike at first glance.

  “What I have to say is private,” Ronnie said, his gaze returning to Carmen, although the challenge in his voice was directed at Griff.

  Griff answered. “She isn’t going anywhere without me.”

  Ronnie flattened his lips, once again glancing toward the house.

  “I suppose I don’t blame you,” he muttered. “It’s true there are vipers in the garden of evil.”

  Griff narrowed his eyes. “Are you talking about the Jacobses?”

  The man hesitated. Carmen reached out to lightly touch his arm, as if worried that he might change his mind about offering whatever information he’d planned to share with her.

  “You can trust Griff.”

  The narrow face tightened before Ronnie was hiding his disappointment. He’d clearly hoped he could spend some time alone with Carmen. Then, with a stiff nod, he turned to lead them around the corner and between the house and the six-car garage.

  In silence they passed through the side garden, circling around the pool at the back of the house.
And then stepped onto the flagstone pathway that led to the lake that shimmered in the distance.

  Ronnie dropped back to walk at Carmen’s side, seemingly convinced that they were out of earshot.

  “After your father shot—” Ronnie snapped his lips together, his face staining with color.

  Griff felt Carmen jerk, but her expression remained encouraging.

  “Go ahead, Ronnie,” she urged.

  “After you left Louisville with your grandparents,” he corrected himself. “And the new Jacobses moved in, my mother decided I should live with my aunt.”

  Griff sent the younger man a startled glance. That seemed extreme.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  Ronnie’s gaze remained locked on Carmen. “I didn’t know at the time,” he said. “It wasn’t until she was diagnosed with cancer that she revealed the truth.”

  Carmen looked genuinely sympathetic. Griff could tell that she’d been fond of the family housekeeper.

  “What did she say?” she asked.

  Ronnie shoved his hands into the pockets of his light jacket, his hair disheveled by the winter breeze.

  “First, can you tell me what you remember of that night?”

  Griff ’s brows snapped together. “What the hell?”

  Carmen reached out to grab his hand, giving his fingers a warning squeeze.

  “Nothing more than being woken by the first gunshot,” she answered, her voice carefully bland. “I was walking toward the kitchen when the second shot sent me scurrying to the closet where I hid until the cops found me.” Her head tilted to the side as she studied the man walking next to them. “Why are you asking?”

  “That night my mother had been at choir practice,” Ronnie said. “She’d just pulled into the driveway when she heard the gunshot. She ran into the kitchen and found your parents already dead. She looked for you and when you weren’t in your bedroom she was terrified you’d been kidnapped.”

  “Oh.” Carmen looked startled. “I never thought about that.”

  “When you were found in the closet it became obvious that it was a murder-suicide,” Ronnie continued, sending Carmen a small grimace. “I’m sorry.”

  Griff ’s temper snapped. Had the jerk lured Carmen into this conversation just so he could poke at her ancient wounds?