His eyes softened. Just a touch. “Why don’t you just tell her the truth? Your father’s dead. Your husband’s dead. No one can control you anymore. No one can hurt you. End this game now.”
“Do you think that’s what this is?” she asked in shock. “A game?”
“I know that’s what it is to you, Eleanor. That’s all Garrett ever was. All I was. You’re not happy unless you’re fighting for something you don’t really want. And when you get it, you throw it away. Look where you’ve ended up. Look where all three of us ended up.”
A knot formed in her stomach. Graham didn’t know what he was talking about. All she’d ever wanted was for her husband to want her back. Everything she’d done had been with that one goal in mind. Everything that had happened from the first stemmed from the fact Garrett had wanted something else.
No, this wasn’t a game. This was her life. And it was all she had left. She wasn’t about to let Hailey ruin it for her now.
She turned before he could stop her, hardened her voice before it could break and headed back to her Mercedes. “Ten o’clock, Friday. It’ll look bad if you’re not there, so do try to be on time.” She pulled the car door open and shot him a withering look just before climbing inside. “And find a tie. It’s the least you can do for your only child.”
He hadn’t slept. Not that he’d expected to.
Shane sat on the side of the bed in James Hargrove’s small Marathon condo and watched Hailey, asleep on her back, her head tipped to the side, one delicate hand up by her face. Lying there like that, her golden blonde hair spilling over the pillow, her dark lashes forming spiky crescent shapes on her creamy skin, she looked more like Cinderella than the hard-as-nails woman he knew could kick him into the next county if she wanted to.
She’d pushed off the sheet sometime in the night, and thanks to the T-shirt now twisted around her belly, he knew her red lace panties matched the bra he’d seen yesterday in the morgue. Red that was going to haunt him the next time he closed his eyes.
Since Hailey had been half out of it with exhaustion when they’d arrived at the apartment last night, he’d tucked her into the master bed, then settled on the couch. Several times he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to make sure she was breathing, and each time he’d come into the room to check on her and she’d made those sexy little mewing sounds in her sleep, a little bit of his self-control slipped away.
Probably shouldn’t have driven up to Lake Geneva yesterday morning, he thought as he watched her. Definitely shouldn’t have gotten on that plane. Absolutely, positively shouldn’t be drooling over her in her underwear right now like a peeping-frickin’-Tom. Especially after everything she’d been through yesterday. But hell if he’d change any of it if he could.
He waved the takeout coffee under her nose, the one he’d picked up this morning when he’d gone out to get a new cell and call Tony. Watched as her eyelids fluttered. Her chest rose and fell with her shallow breathing and her lilac scent wrapped around him like a gentle caress. “Coffee time. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
She stirred. Grunted and waved a hand through the air. Then flipped to her side away from him. And try as he might, his eyes ventured down. To skimpy red lace that didn’t cover nearly enough of one gorgeous ass. What was left of his gray matter turned to gelatin, and he grew hard. Just that fast.
He jostled her shoulder. “Wake up, Hailey. I brought you a present.”
It was like rousing the dead. When she finally rolled back after several repeated attempts and pried one eyelid open to peer at him, it was all he could do not to laugh. Her hair now stuck out at odd angles from her thrashing about, and disorientation twisted her features. Her one open eye slid from his face down to the coffee. Then she groaned and rolled away again. “No more coffee. I had enough last night to last me a year.”
“James said the caffeine was good for your heart. And considering what you went through yesterday, a little more won’t hurt. Sit up, now.”
She finally acquiesced only because he wouldn’t let her fall back to sleep. Slowly, she reached for the paper cup and took two big sips. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s bad enough you watched me puke my guts out yesterday. I don’t need you studying me like a science experiment.”
“You didn’t go on a bender, Hailey. You were poisoned. Big difference.” When she rolled her eyes, he touched her arm to get her attention. “You scared the hell out of me last night.”
Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink before she glanced back down at her hands. And oh, man. She looked so damn sexy in the morning. All groggy and rumpled. He had an insane urge to find out if this was how she always woke. Tomorrow morning. And the morning after that. And the one after that.
“I heard what you and James were discussing. It still doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“It makes a lot of sense. Your uncle wants you gone. If I wasn’t so damn worried about you now, I’d head over there and beat the truth out of the SOB.”
Her eyes shot to his. “Graham did not have anything to do with this.”
“How do you figure? We ate the same damn things yesterday except for that tea, which he gave you. Minutes later some crackpot takes a shot at us as we’re driving away. I’d say that’s two for two that he wants you gone.”
She shook her head in defiance. “I don’t know what was in that tea, but he didn’t purposely set out to poison me. He couldn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. As for those two, he didn’t have anything to do with them, either. They had to be following me.”
“How in the hell do you figure that?”
“Because one of them gave me this.” She pointed at the fading bruise on her face. “I recognized his voice. The other one…”
Almost as if she’d said too much, her mouth snapped shut. And there it was. What he’d suspected back in the slough. She’d known her attacker and purposely kept quiet.
She doesn’t think you can save her.
Considering the way he’d reacted yesterday, that was probably pretty accurate. She’d been the one to hold him down so he hadn’t revealed their hiding place. She’d been the one to get them most of the way to Marathon. She’d been the one to deal with his bad mood until she’d fallen ill.
“Hailey—”
“No, Maxwell. It wasn’t Graham. So get that out of your head. We’re not dragging him into this. His son just died.”
“How do you know he didn’t kill Bryan?”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s a terrible thing to say. You saw him yesterday—”
“I saw a man who’s a pretty good actor.”
“—he was a wreck,” she said louder, rolling over him. “For all his flaws, Graham loved Bryan. He didn’t have anything to do with what happened in Chicago. End of story.”
They stared at each other, tension filling the air like a helium balloon, until she finally gave up and went back to her coffee. As she looked down, a blush crept up her face. She snagged the sheet to pull it back up around her waist.
So much for that gorgeous view. Not that he couldn’t call it up in his mind now whenever he wanted. And so much for her thinking rationally where her family was concerned. Not that that was going to stop Shane from pushing Graham Roarke to the top of his suspect list.
Hoping to ease some of the strain between them, he lifted the bag at his feet and set it on her lap. “I got you something.”
Cautiously, she set her coffee on the table next to him and peered into the bag. Then, though she fought it, a wry smile spread across her face as she lifted the blue cotton tee and read the words printed across the front:
I worked with Tommy on the docks
‘til the union went on strike.
It’s been tough.
I’m just sayin’.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“Store down the road. You’d be amazed what’s open this early.”
“Not really.” She stared at the
words, ran her fingers over the letters. “Tourist area. People are up early here to avoid the heat.” Her smile widened. “I love Bon Jovi.”
He had a feeling. “Guy’s gone country.”
Her brilliant blue eyes slid to his, then back to the shirt. “Travesty. I still have hope he’ll see the light, though.” She looked into the bag again. “What else is in here?”
He wasn’t thrilled they liked the same kind of music—classic ‘80s rock. “I figured you needed something clean to wear. I got you a pair of those short pants, too. Had to guess on size, though.”
“Capris?”
“Is that what they’re called?”
She pulled out the khaki pants the girl at the store had helped him pick out and looked at the tag in the back. “Pretty close. Thank you.”
Yeah, and his chest wasn’t swelling from her gratitude, especially when he’d been such a jerk after that whole scene in the slough. “Look, Hailey, about what happened yesterday—”
“I really don’t want to talk about my father yet. I need more coffee first.” She folded the clothes neatly and put them back in the bag. “What did you tell Chen?”
He clenched his jaw at her change of subject. “What little we know.”
“Did you tell him where we are?”
“Do I look stupid to you?” When she flicked a look at him, he blew out a breath and added gentler, “Much as I trust Tony, the less he knows right now, the better off he’ll be. I don’t want him lying for me.” Not again, at least.
He thought about telling her Jim Hill with the DA’s office had already figured out Shane and Hailey knew each other and that he was jumping to conclusions about Shane’s involvement in her cousin’s murder. Tony also had told him her father’s dagger had somehow gotten lost in evidence. But Shane decided to keep both pieces of info to himself for now. Though her coloring was better, Hailey still looked tired. And he didn’t want to overwhelm her if he didn’t have to. Besides, he still felt the need to clear the air. “So about what happened at the slough.”
She reached for her coffee again. “Don’t worry about it. It was no big deal.”
“Yeah, it was,” he said. “It shouldn’t have happened and I was a jerk about it. So…I apologize.”
She sipped her coffee like a woman parched. “Seriously, Maxwell, no biggie. I’m used to moody men.” She pulled her T-shirt down, then pushed the covers off and rose quickly from the bed.
He was momentarily distracted as he watched her long, bare legs move across the bedroom. Then her comment registered. “I’m not moody.”
“You’re not quite as bad as Rafe, but you have your moments. I need to take a shower.”
“Hailey, wait. I’m trying to say I’m sorry here.”
“You did.”
She made it halfway across the room before he realized they had to be talking about two very different things. “Hold on. I think maybe you misunderstood.”
“No, I got it. Physical reaction, nothing more. I know you don’t want to be attracted to me, so stop stressing.” She flipped on the bathroom light and started to close the door.
And that’s when he stopped thinking.
He was across the room in two strides, slapping a hand on the door and pushing it open before she could close him out. “Wait a minute. You think I’m not attracted to you?”
Her huff was part exasperation, part embarrassment. “Look, I already said it’s no big deal, okay? I know you’re only helping me as a friend and because of some loyalty to Lisa and Rafe. And though I was a little resistant to it at first, I do appreciate it, whatever your reasons. So let’s not hash this to death, okay? You’re a guy. You have reactions to…things. We’ve got other situations to deal with, like—”
Reactions? Oh, shit. She thought he was talking about his hard-on.
“Stop.” He held up a hand. “In the first place, my sister has a ton of friends I wouldn’t help cross the street, let alone fly around the country for. And in the second, the jury’s still out on Sullivan, so don’t for a second assume I’m here out of some misplaced loyalty to him. You are right about one thing, though, I am a guy, and I do have reactions to things, but if that’s all this is, then you tell me how normal it is for a guy who’s not attracted to a woman to get turned on in the middle of a swamp when he’s just been shot at and pretty damn near eaten for lunch? And you tell me why my heart was in my throat the whole time we were at the morgue last night and you were lying on that table barely moving.”
She stared at him. Blinked once. “How much caffeine did you have this morning?”
“Obviously not enough because you’re still not following anything I’m saying.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, I heard you. You’re attracted to me. So what? I know you don’t like it.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “It’s pissing you off right now, admit it!”
Before he thought better of it, he grabbed her by the elbows and pushed her back against the bathroom counter. “Does this feel like I’m pissed at you right now?”
“Maxwell—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her protest. His mouth was on hers before the second word was even out. Before his brain clicked in to the fact she’d been through the wringer last night and didn’t deserve to be handled so roughly just because he had a temper.
A muffled grunt came out of her as she opened to obviously tear him a new one, but he cut her off by dipping inside for a lick before it was too late.
He tasted the coffee he’d brought her this morning and the sweetness he remembered from their kiss in his apartment. As he changed the angle, he wrapped his arms around her to lock hers tight against his chest so she couldn’t haul off and punch him. And when he figured he’d made his point crystal clear, loosed his grasp and eased back a fraction of an inch.
She was breathing heavily as she stared up at him, but her eyes never left his. “Was that supposed to convince me of something?”
“Yeah,” he said cautiously, watching for any sign he’d hurt her. He couldn’t see it. What he saw was the same feisty woman he’d met in Key Biscayne. The same one who’d knocked him to the ground in her resort’s gym in Lake Geneva. The same one who hadn’t backed down from him on her plane when he’d gone to stop her from leaving.
Her ice blue eyes narrowed as her fingernails curled into his chest. “Word to the wise, Maxwell. You can’t push me around like that and get away with it.”
A lick of pain shot up his pecs—one that felt way too good. “Too bad you liked it so much.”
“I don’t like arrogant, controlling men,” she said with eyes that told him just how much she did like him.
“And I don’t like women telling me how I feel. You’re not in my head so—”
He didn’t get to finish his statement. Because her hands were suddenly in his hair and her mouth was slanting under his all over again. And then she was pulling him back into her and kissing him. Hard.
So much for not being in his head. Somewhere in his gray matter it registered that confrontation turned her on and that he should avoid it at all costs where she was concerned, but that was part of her charm. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she didn’t back down from a fight, that she knew what she wanted and went after it. And oh, man, as she pressed up against him now, all warm and soft and curvy in just the right places, he realized he didn’t care about what he should do and instead focused on what he could.
Whatever measly brain cells were still firing shorted out with a pop that echoed through his entire body. She was like a drug, one he couldn’t get enough of.
The phone in the living room rang. He ignored it, nipped her bottom lip between his teeth until she moaned, then stroked his tongue against hers while her fingers tightened in his hair and her body pressed full against his. Their kiss was a power struggle that he loved—her taking charge, his grappling for control—over and around until both of them were breathless and neither won.
His hands slid to her waist, and he l
ifted her easily to sit on the counter, then pushed his way between her legs to get closer still. She opened for him, licked into his mouth until his blood roared in his ears. Her kiss turned frantic, her fingers sliding down his shoulders, his arms, to the base of his T-shirt, up under to scrape along his skin. When her fingertips brushed the edge of the scar on his side, he pushed it from his mind and gently guided her hand somewhere else. And though something in the back of his head screamed, Hello, moron. Do you really think this is a good idea?, he ignored it. Ignored everything but the driving urge to get inside her. To let her take him wherever she wanted to go. For as long as she wanted to go there.
The phone shrilled again. He kissed her deeper. Shifted closer, tried to push away the sound. Heat from her body burned every inch of his skin, luring him in with the promise of ecstasy. Her fingers wove back into his hair, and she pulled just hard enough so he groaned from the shot of pain in his scalp. Then she arched against him, into him, until all his blood went due south.
Brrrriiiiiiing
“Goddammit.” He broke free of her mouth, stalked into the living room and jerked the phone off its cradle. “What?”
Silence. Then, “Who is this?”
“Don-fucking-Juan. What the hell do you want?”
More silence, and then a chuckle came through the line. One he’d heard before. “I want to talk to Hailey, Don. Is she there?”
Billy. Scowling, Shane looked across the room to where Hailey was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, breathing heavy and looking so damn sexy with her blonde hair all wild and her lips swollen from his mouth, he had only one instinct—to toss her over his shoulder and cart her off to bed like the caveman he’d become.
She crossed the floor quickly and took the phone from his hand before he could do just that. “Hello? Billy? You got my message. Yeah. I’m fine. What happened?”