Wicked for You

  aside, and chugged his coffee. “But for pity’s sake, could you put a shirt on first?”

  With a chuckle, Axel took his sweet time rising to his feet. He enjoyed a moment of towering over the other man before he trudged upstairs. In the bedroom, he found Mystery stretching, her completely naked body visible to his hungry stare, opening her eyes to the world.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and cradled her breast, sweeping down her abdomen to pet her pussy before he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Morning, princess.”

  “Morning.” She winced. “If you have any wicked ideas, you should know I’m awfully sore right now.”

  “And you should probably get used to that state around me.” He winked. “But you’re in luck this morning. I’m here for a shirt because Heath doesn’t like the way I’m dressed. When you’re up and ready, come downstairs. We’ll rustle up some breakfast, then we have to talk about who might want to hurt you and why.”

  She nodded at him solemnly. As Axel brushed a lingering kiss on her lips, he realized this wouldn’t be easy on her. “All right.”

  Reliving both her mother’s death and her own kidnapping would be traumatic enough. Forcing her to look at everyone in her life as a potential suspect on top of that? Absolutely both shitty and heartbreaking.

  “We’ll be downstairs.”

  With that, he left her in privacy and shuffled back downstairs, tugging his T-shirt over his head. In the kitchen again, he watched Heath pace the room in about three steps in any given direction, each of his long strides eating up ground.

  “Better?” Axel held out his arms. Not that he really cared for Heath’s opinion. As long as the asswipe shut up about his attire, that would be great.

  “Much. I think we need to talk to Mullins, try showing him this picture your friend procured once more and see if we jog his memory.”

  Since he still had to reassure the man that Mystery was fine and had merely misplaced her phone, he could mark two things off his to-do list with one call. Axel nodded. “Go for it.”

  Heath yanked out his cell and punched a few buttons, then enabled the speakerphone.

  Mullins answered quick. “Heath, anything wrong?”

  “Not per se. Mystery and I left Dallas last night and are now at her aunt’s home. We’ve tried to hoodwink whoever is after her by announcing that she’ll be returning to London on Twitter. We think that will buy us at least today to solve as much of this riddle as possible. If we can’t piece it together by then, she’ll probably have to fly home.”

  “I’d rather have her here, anyway. Fly her home ASAP.”

  “As you know, we’ve tried. Mystery will fight us all on that. We can safely hold her here today, then we’ll get her home.”

  The director sighed noisily, obviously not liking the situation.

  “Hi, Mullins. Axel here. I’m sure you’ve been trying to call your daughter. She accidentally left her phone at my place. A friend of mine is keeping it safe for her.”

  Mystery’s father paused. “Your place. I can track her phone, you know. I know exactly where her phone is.”

  Fuck. Axel had hoped her father was low-tech and he wouldn’t have to explain Dominion to his girlfriend’s father. “It’s actually my place of employment. I took her there last night because it’s secure, but she had other ideas.”

  “And insisted we reach her aunt right away,” Heath filled in.

  Axel shot the other man a shocked stare. Why would the Brit help him out? Or maybe he’d told the white lie to keep the director off Mystery’s back. Either way, it worked in his favor.

  “That girl needs to stop being so damn impulsive . . .” Mullins sighed. “So you work there, huh? Do you play there, too?”

  Though Axel would prefer to tell Mullins that his sex life was none of the man’s business, if he wanted to be in Mystery’s future, lying to her father wouldn’t get him far. “Yes.”

  The man sucked in a breath. “Does Mystery know?”

  Translation: Have you played with her? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d never really dealt with overprotective fathers before. “Yes. Sir, with all due respect, she’s a grown woman.”

  “But she’s always going to be my daughter. How does she feel about your kink?”

  “She’s not protesting. Look, I didn’t once touch her in the desert when I rescued her. She was too young and emotionally rattled. Now, everything between us is completely consensual—”

  “I know you didn’t touch Mystery back then. She was actually crushed you hadn’t.”

  Axel couldn’t help but smile. “She’s made me see the error of my ways since she returned to the States.”

  “I don’t want to know what you two do, but if she’s happier, then I’m glad for her.”

  Letting out a pent-up breath, Axel sagged into his chair. Thank fuck the man didn’t want to kill him. “I’ll do my best to always make her happy. But we’ll have to talk about that after we’ve dealt with the danger to her. Sir, Heath and I genuinely believe that whoever’s threatening her now had something to do with your wife’s murder.”

  Mullins hesitated. “Julia’s passing was never definitively ruled a homicide.”

  “But you know it was,” Axel shot back. “A friend of mine spoke to the detective in charge of the investigation when your wife died. He showed me the picture from the hikers.”

  “Photos can be doctored,” Mullins pointed out. “I’m not convinced those people didn’t tamper with the photo to sell it to the Enquirer or Star or some other rag that would have paid them a fortune, regardless of whether it was real. Everyone wanted a piece of that story.”

  “The hikers never sold that picture to anyone,” Axel reasoned.

  Mullins scoffed. “I’m not giving them a medal for their restraint.”

  Marshall was a brilliant director and a protective father, but the man was more than a tad convinced the world revolved around him. “If they’d simply wanted money for their picture and to ride your coattails for their fifteen minutes of fame, wouldn’t they have doctored the image to make the man on the mountain with your wife look like you? Or someone you knew?”

  A long pause followed. “That would be most obvious, but—”

  “Then let’s pretend for a minute that the picture is real. You haven’t seen the image in . . . what? Over fifteen years?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “I’ll send it to you again from my phone.” Axel texted the snapshot to him. “Just look at it one more time and tell me if you recognize the man with your wife at all.”

  He heard a little ding on the other end of the line, and a few tense moments passed. “No. I have no idea who he is.” A pause ensued, followed by Mullins’s distressed sigh. “God, even seeing Julia in a grainy image like this is . . . It’s so hard. I loved that woman. I wasn’t a good husband. I know it. But she gave me the most precious gift ever.”

  At that moment, Mystery skipped down the stairs and raced to the kitchen. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Mystery. How are you, kiddo?” he sounded wistful.

  “Fine. Heath and I drove most of the night, so I slept in. But I’m good now.”

  “Excellent.”

  Axel noticed cynically that the man didn’t ask his daughter how she felt about the newfound kink in her sex life.

  “So . . .” Mullins went on. “How’s your aunt Gail?”

  “I only saw her briefly last night, but she seems well. Nothing much has changed here.”

  “I know that would have made your mother smile.”

  “Yeah. It’s nice to be here again.”

  A million questions swirled through Axel’s brain. He wanted to ask the man about his wife’s death, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the truth about the murder to Mystery. Unfortunately, waiting for the right moment cost time, and that was a luxury they didn’t have.

  He took a deep breath and glanced at Mystery. She looked refreshed and beautiful, despite being sleep tossed and wearing yesterday’s clothes. “Have a
seat. I called your dad to discuss the day your mother died.”

  * * *

  MYSTERY blinked, then sat slowly. She’d give anything not to rehash one of the worst days of her life, but she knew how necessary it was. “You mean the day she was murdered?”

  “You knew that?” her father asked.

  “I suspected. You never said anything, but . . .” She choked. Her voice broke.

  “I just wanted to protect you, kiddo,” her father protested.

  “I know.” And she did. Her mom’s death had devastated him, too. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t have loved her enough to be faithful. It was irrelevant now. “But the press was all too happy to report what they thought happened, and the murder scenario just made more sense.”

  Axel squeezed her hand and sighed. “I’m so damn glad I don’t have to be the one to explain that she was murdered and rip your world apart. This is a photo taken by random hikers just before your mother died. Does this man look at all familiar?”

  Axel showed her the picture, doing his best to zoom in on the two people on the hilltop in the distance.

  “I can only see his back. Maybe if I had a face . . .”

  “Do you remember your mother knowing anyone with that height, build, and hair color? He’s probably around six feet, medium build. In this picture, he looks more gray than not.”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. Then a distant memory spun through her head, and she laughed at it. “Well . . . The only person I can think of is this guy who came to one of my dance recitals. I was maybe five or six. When I ran offstage, my mom introduced me to him. He was wearing a suit a lot like this and was graying, too. She called him Peter.”

  “Was he the dad of one of the other kids?”

  “Probably.” She shrugged. “It only jumped out at me because Mom seemed really nervous, and they were having this very intent conversation until I reached them. Then they were suddenly all smiles.” She winced. “The guy’s stare was kind of creepy. I remember hiding behind my mother and wanting him to leave.”

  “Did you ever see him again?” her father asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you remember anything else? Any detail?” Axel leaned in, face intent.

  “I don’t even know why I brought it up. Three years passed between that incident and my mom’s death. I never saw the guy again. They’re probably totally unrelated.”

  “You’re probably right.” Axel palmed her crown.

  She felt so fortunate to have him here and sent him a faint smile. “I just wish I could help more. I’ve told you what I know about the day she died. Mom and Dad fought about divorce that morning.”

  “We never meant for you to hear.” Her father sounded contrite.

  “Dad, the whole house could hear.”

  “Shit,” he cursed. “We really thought you were asleep.”

  “No,” Mystery admitted softly. “Mom had been in my room about ten minutes before you two started arguing. I woke to the sounds of her crying.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She could almost hear her father’s heartbreak on the other end of the line.

  “And I’m sorry to ask either of you to relive it, but the information can only help.” Axel laced his fingers through hers—his silent way of telling her he supported her. “You’ve told me what you know, so I’d like to ask your dad what else he recalls now.”

  That made sense. She’d been nothing more than a kid. Her dad would know more.

  “I remember more than I’d like to.” Her dad sighed. “I came in that morning about three. I’d been out with . . . some people I was working with on a film.”

  “Oh, just stop lying already.” Mystery gave him a frustrated huff. “You were screwing that blonde you were directing in the action/thriller flick you’d been working on, and Mom found out.”

  “Yes.” Her father hesitated. “And she was pregnant.”

  Mystery gasped, feeling as if someone had punched her in the stomach, and closed her eyes. As if this conversation wasn’t awful enough, the new revelations coming out now made it downright horrifying.

  “Was she worth it? Were any of those slutbags you took to bed worth destroying your family?” The anger just poured out. Mystery heard it but couldn’t seem to stop it. It wasn’t as if her father had cheated on her . . . yet it had always felt as if he’d betrayed her, too, not just her mom. For years, Mystery had pretended she didn’t know. She’d never confronted her dad because his love life didn’t matter now that her mom was gone. But deep down, it mattered to her. His wandering dick had ripped apart a marriage, stained her childhood, maybe even somehow cut short her mother’s life. The resulting scars had nearly caused her to walk out on Axel forever.

  “No,” he choked out.

  Small consolation now. It didn’t really make a dent in her rage. Even if anger didn’t solve anything now, she couldn’t seem to stop feeling it. “So because your whore was pregnant, you asked Mom for the divorce?”

  “No!” He was quick to correct her. “She found out somehow and told me that she’d called a lawyer. She wanted to leave. The sex meant nothing to me but a conquest and some fleeting pleasure, but your mother didn’t see it that way.”

  No, her mom had seen it as a stab in the heart. Mystery did, too. It had made her wary and a bit cynical of relationships, and that wasn’t who she wanted to be.

  “I loved her,” her father swore. “Too much to let her leave. But she asked me for a divorce. Worse, she wanted to take you with her back to Kansas. So we fought. We didn’t resolve anything. I lost my temper and left. That was the last time I saw your mother alive.”

  “And the blonde’s baby?” Mystery snapped. “You just left that child to be raised by a single mother?”

  “You think that’s the sort of father I am?”

  The hurt in his voice ripped through her. Regret followed. As a father, he’d never been anything but attentive and doting. “Sorry. That was unfair. You’re a great dad.”

  “Thinking I would soon be a father again, I’d prepared a financial settlement for both the actress and the child, along with a visitation agreement. Then . . .” He sighed. “The baby came out Asian.”

  Beside her, Axel reared back at that information. Mystery certainly felt her own jaw drop. “So that wasn’t your baby.”

  “No. I had every reason to think I’d fathered that child. I admit it. But finding out I hadn’t was a guilty relief.” He sighed. “I fucked up. Believe me, I know. Your mother loved that forest, but I don’t think she would have been there the day she died if she hadn’t been seeking calm.”

  Mystery had thought the same thing herself. But her dad was beating himself up, and she didn’t see the point of heaping more guilt on him now.

  “Can you tell us anything else you recall about that day, Mr. Mullins?” Heath cut in. “Anything stand out? Anything unusual?”

  “It’s not every day your wife asks you for a divorce then dies, so I’d say the whole day was unusual.”

  Axel cleared his throat. “Let’s walk through the events and see if we can find any clue the sheriff overlooked. We don’t know who this man in the picture is, so we need some suspects, and maybe your wife’s behavior will give us some direction.”

  Her father let out a rough breath. “I must have done this fifty times for the police, but I’ll try again. Um . . . I came in late. Julia was asleep—or pretending to be. I crashed and woke up about six when she slipped out of bed to wake Mystery for school. Julia wasn’t trying hard to be quiet. She was itching for a fight, and when she returned from Mystery’s room, I could tell she’d been crying. We argued. She told me she knew about my latest mistress being pregnant and she wanted a divorce. She’d hired a lawyer and wanted to move back to Kansas. I told her that if she took Mystery from me, I wouldn’t give her a dime of alimony. We screamed at each other. We’d already been to counseling, and I didn’t see the point of going back.” He hesitated there. “I’m not sure if any of that is helpful.”
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  “When did you first notice your wife was missing?” Axel asked.

  “The school called to say that Julia hadn’t picked up Mystery. She never missed that time with our daughter. Nannies took care of her when we traveled or attended evening events, but Julia did her best to revolve her schedule around picking Mystery up and having a little girl time before homework, bath, and bed. So when the teacher called, I knew something was deeply wrong.”