Beneath the Secrets: Part One (6 page)

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Authors: Lisa Renee Jones

BOOK: Beneath the Secrets: Part One
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“That’s the plan.”
 

His tone was lazy, but she caught a hint of amusement etched in its depths. She didn’t like it. Not at all. “Because you’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Because I’m trying to figure you out. If that makes you nervous, you must have something to hide.”
 

The doors opened and a man and a woman entered, saving her from a reply. Thankfully, Blake pushed off the wall and faced forward, giving her a small reprieve from his intent inspection. Another stop and a group of people shoved inside. Suddenly, Blake was pressed to her side, from hip to shoulder, and she could barely breathe. Memories of him touching her, of him naked and on top of her, inside her, beneath her, assailed her. The car moved ridiculously slow, leaving too much time for the vivid replaying of hot, erotic shared moments with an enemy she should never have slept with. Yet he still tempted her. She felt selfish and weak, shallow even for allowing lust and attraction to dictate her desires, when there was so much on the line.
 

Finally, the doors opened and several people exited. Blake had room to move, but he didn’t. Kara’s gaze lifted to his, challenging him to step away. His lips twitched, his hot stare filled with refusal. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she.
 

By the time they reached the garage level and the rest of the crowd had piled out before them, Kara was on fire, tingling from head to foot. She was also ready to face the facts. She’d made sure she kept her life simple, free of bonds that could be broken, bonds that were painful when ripped away. Therefore, she’d radiated toward men she knew felt the same way. In theory, Blake fit her profile perfectly, except for two very distinct reasons, most importantly that he stood for everything she despised. Which made the second difference all the more baffling. Unlike other men before him, she was completely, utterly affected by Blake, even fully dressed and trying not to be.
 

They exited the stairwell with several other people nearby and she motioned to the silver 4Runner sitting in the space by the door. “That will be you, and the keys are in the ignition. The bag you brought was transferred from the car that picked you up from the airport.” She dug her keys out of her purse.
 

His hand slid over hers, twining with her fingers, and around them. “You won’t be needing those.”

Heat darted up her arm and over her shoulder to her chest and her gaze rocketed to his. The instant awareness between them shook her to the core. “I have to be able to get home tonight.”

“No, actually, you don’t.” He dislodged the keys from her hand and motioned her forward. “Your ride awaits.”

Several staff members walked by and Kara could feel their eyes on the two of them. “I’m not staying the night with you.”

“Mendez said to do whatever I want and don’t you do whatever he wants?”

“I do my job.”

“Which included fuck—”

“Stop saying that over and over and assuming you have the answers. You know nothing about me or my motivations.”

“I have a good idea.”
 

Why did her gut tighten at the accusation in his voice? Why did she care what he thought? “No,” she ground out. “No you don’t.” She let the emotions she felt about her real situation bleed into her words, or maybe there was no “let” about it. She’d been operating in a zone for months, trying not to feel anything, to stay focused. Only two times had she failed, and both times were with this man.
 

His lips twisted sardonically. “I have to admit, you play the victim well, but you won’t play me again. We both know you’re weaving lies to everyone around you. No victim does that. I’m getting answers and I’m getting them tonight.”

Those dangerous emotions she was feeling jabbed her in the chest, made her vulnerable, made her need to get away. “I’m taking my car or I’m not leaving.” His hand was still over hers, holding her and her keys, making her hot and confused when everything had been so clear until he’d shown up in the picture. “Let go. Unless you think you can’t keep up with my ten-year-old Ford Focus.”
 

His eyes narrowed sharply, but the handsome planes and angles of his face remained unreadable. “Where are you parked?”
 

 
“The space beside you.”

A second passed, then another and he released her hand and motioned her forward. Kara didn’t hesitate to seize her victory. Her chin lifted and she started walking. Blake pursued instantly, behind her, stalking her, the short walk to his passenger door and her driver’s door. This man made her feel exposed, out of control. Bad things with lives on the line, and not her own. She wasn’t worried about herself. She’d learned years ago that to do what she did, you had to wake up ready to die, but she was never, ever; ready to let someone else die.
 

She clicked her keychain so that her locks opened and reached for the handle. Blake reached around her, the front of his thigh pressing down the length of hers starting at her hip, the feel of him stealing her breath. “Don’t even think about running,” he warned.
 

Heat washed through her and over her at his touch, and she was shaken by the depth of need she felt for him. She didn’t look at him for fear he’d see her reaction. “I have nothing to run from,” she said, and silently added, because I have everything to lose if I do.
 

Silence greeted her declaration, the seconds ticking by again, and she held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Finally he stepped back, and instead of relief, ice slid over her where heat had been moments before. She didn’t understand the sensation any more than she understood anything this man made her feel.
 

Kara yanked open her door and he walked to the 4Runner. She slid into the car and tried to tell herself everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine. Blake saw too much. “You have a good story,” she reminded herself, needing to hear it out loud. She’d covered her bases, created her identity without flaw. Except for Denver, she thought. It had been a last-minute decision and she knew better than to make unplanned moves. Her stomach knotted with the realization she’d screwed up. If Blake mentioned Denver to Richter, he’d discover she wasn’t working for Richter, Newport, or the cartel that night she’d stolen his files. She’d be dead for sure, which meant she had to do what she’d come here for and get out of here. She was out of time.
 

 

Chapter Four

 

Why the fuck couldn’t he stop thinking about getting her naked again? And why was he still feeling this ridiculous urge to save her when she’d thrown him under a bus in Denver?
 

Blake pulled the 4Runner out of the garage behind Kara’s car, cursing her for distracting him, and fighting a flashback of blood and loss and…more blood. Damn it to hell, the acid burn of the past never faded and, no matter what he did, no matter what the momentary rush of pleasure or adrenaline rush he created, it always came back. Even trying to make it go away felt wrong, like he was trying to wash away Whitney, when he’d have traded himself for her in a heartbeat. Finally, he had the chance to do the only thing he had left…avenge her. He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stand in his way.
 

His cell phone rang and a glance told him it was Kyle. Blake answered to hear, “Were you going to call and tell me Denver didn’t get you killed, or just drive the new 4Runner around town and break it in?”
 

“You knew I made it out of the building alive the same time I did, or we wouldn’t be talking. Someone is skimming product and selling it on the side. Mendez slid me inside by naming me as his head of security.”

“What happened to the prior head of security?”

“He failed to solve this problem.”

“He’s dead.”

“I’m sure.”
 

“Good opening for you, but I’m scratching my head. I thought for sure when we saw your Denver playmate waiting on you, you were about to be ten feet under.”
 

“According to Kara, the head of the Denver division was testing me to see if I could stumble and recover before recommending me to Mendez.”

“That doesn’t seem like a test. It sounds like a setup for blackmail, a way to control someone he gets inside Mendez’s operation.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Blake agreed dryly, pausing at a stoplight behind Kara.

“And Mendez’s secretary is helping to undermine him. It pulls this together for me. It makes sense.”

“Yeah.” Blake let out a breath, not sure why that logical answer to why Kara had been in Denver didn’t feel right to him.
   

“You don’t think so,” Kyle observed, having spent enough years working with Blake to know him better than even his brothers did.
 

“Something doesn’t add up,” Blake admitted. “What do you know about her?”

“On paper, she looks like a perfect candidate to be motivated by money. She’s caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s disease who has no insurance.”

“But?”

“But she’s too squeaky clean. No other family, no ties. Her identity reads like something I’d create to go undercover.”
 

The light turned green and Kara started moving again, and Blake followed her. “Find out when she went to Denver, if she was alone, and who paid her expenses.”

“I’m on it, but I’m guessing it was all cash no matter who is involved.”
 

So was Blake. Kara turned right and he followed, bringing the pier and the hotel sign into view.
 

“We have to consider the possibility she could be working for an agency. Royce could call in a favor and run her through the FBI database—”

“Forget it. I’m not having my brother, who has a pregnant wife at home, involved in this.”

“He doesn’t have to know it’s for you.”

Blake grimaced. “This is Royce we’re talking about. He’ll figure it out.” And he’d lecture Blake about having a death wish and try to intervene. “Start with finding out about her Denver travel. And see if you can track any calls between her and the head of the Denver division.” Kara pulled into a parking garage. “I need to go. I’ll call you when I can talk.” He ended the connection, pulled into a spot beside Kara, and watched her kill her lights as he did the same.

Blake waited on Kara to exit her car before grabbing his duffle and exiting his own, the timing meant to ensure she didn’t have the chance to drive away while he was outside his vehicle. Once she walking toward her trunk, he joined her and took her briefcase.
 

 
Surprise flashed in her eyes, like she didn’t expect him to be a gentleman, and he had reason not to be with her, without question, but manners were inbred by his military father. “So you can’t hit me with it,” Blake explained, his hand brushing hers, the connection sending a jolt of pure lust rocketing through his blood.
 

 
She shivered and hugged herself, and he knew she wasn’t reacting to the cool evening air floating off the nearby ocean, but to the instant heat simmering between them. “I’d have thought you’d be more likely to hit me with it.”

“Never hit a woman,” Blake assured her, his nostrils flaring with the soft, familiar feminine scent of her he’d been dreaming of for a week now. “Spanked a few, but—”

“Way too much information,” she said, holding up her hands and looking appalled.

“I’m pretty sure you have a creative enough imagination to figure it out on your own anyway.” But the truth was, despite the hot night they’d spent together, there was an innocent quality about her that defied how sizzling she’d been in bed with him. Not innocent, but…something. He doubted seriously she’d gone to any of the many places he had in the past two years. He motioned her toward the elevator. “Let’s go have that chat we need to have.”

“You know everything there is to know,” she insisted, falling into step with him.
 

“I doubt that,” he commented dryly.

Her brow crinkled. “You doubt and assume too much.”

He almost choked on the irony of that statement. “Only when I have reasons and you’ve given me more reasons in a week than most do in a lifetime.”

She punched the elevator button. “Or you’re so cynical that you see things that aren’t there.”

He stared down at her, thinking how petite she was, how delicate and easily hurt she appeared. How in need of protection. That’s what made woman such weapons. They made a man forget they could pull a trigger just as easily as he could. “We’re both working for Mendez and you think I’m too cynical?”

She bit her bottom lip. He wanted to bite that bottom lip. He wanted to lick it and her. He was going to lick it and her. “I suppose you do have a point there,” she conceded.
 

They stepped into the elevator and she hit the lobby floor, which was the only option. She leaned on the wall and faced him. He leaned on the wall and faced her. Neither of them spoke as the elevator creaked upward, but the sexual tension between them blistered the walls. She sucked in a breath as if the heat was too much to handle and cut her gaze. Whatever her motivations for sleeping with him in Denver, whatever his for that matter, they’d wanted each other and they still did.
 

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