Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies (12 page)

“So I kept a secret. That doesn’t make me a traitor.”

“Maybe not,” he said through gritted teeth. “But it makes you one hell of a bad partner.”

His words hung in the still air of the kitchen.

“After I pulled you out of that building,” Kyle continued, his voice raw with suppressed emotion and the pain of betrayal. “You
told
me she was there. I went in after her, I landed in the emergency room barely alive, and Emerich got clean away. So, please tell me, Genie. If you never saw Becca that day, why would you send me back into that building to die?”

Confusion played like a swiftly moving gale across her suddenly pale face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said hoarsely, and took a step back from him. “I don’t remember seeing her, and I sure as hell don’t remember sending you back in after her. I honestly don’t even remember seeing you. All I know is that I’ve lost my sister and my father is missing, and right now, I want— No, I
need
for you to go. For both our sakes.”

She was obviously still lying to him. Fury swept through him with a vengeance. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. His fingers dug into her skin as anger clouded his reason again, boiling, raging. “I loved you,” he ground out. “I don’t let a lot of people in, darlin’, but I let you in, and you…” He swallowed back the bile. He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit to her or even himself how badly she’d hurt him.

But she had, and the worst part—the part that really made him see red—was that even now, even as he stared into her brilliant eyes, flushed cheeks, and plump red lips…he
still
wanted to kiss her. To yank her up against him and ravish that mouth and remind her how damn good they’d been together, to show her exactly what she’d thrown away.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed her away, disgusted with himself.

“Yes, I was at the warehouse,” she said, her eyes glittering. “And yeah, I turned off my GPS. But I did not see Becca. I was
not
the reason Emerich got away. But you never believed that. You doubted my loyalty! You all did. And you clearly still doubt me. So excuse frickin’ me if I don’t have a lot of faith in
you
right now, either.
Deal with it
. I have.” She whirled, and stalked away from him.

Fists clenched, he stared after her incredulously. So this was all
his
fault?

“We could have talked about it. Sorted it out,” he said, striding after her. “But instead, you chose to run away, to lose yourself. You just threw us away like yesterday’s—”

He broke off his tirade abruptly. It didn’t matter if she felt betrayed or if he felt hurt and abandoned. Because neither of them could change the past—his doubts about her, her doubts about him.

The worst part of all was that she was right. All this time, he’d been absolutely certain she’d warned Becca. That she was the reason Emerich had gotten away.

Damn. What if he’d been wrong?

He caught up to her and grasped her arm again, more gently this time.

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly.

She turned back to him looking wary, worn out, and defeated all at once. “Kyle—”

“Don’t even bother,” he said, slamming closed the lid on his unwanted emotions, receding back into that cold, professional they both wanted him to be. “Just open the damn box.”

…

Reluctantly Genie stared at him. She could see it was no use arguing, or trying to keep Kyle from seeing whatever her father had left her. She placed the box on the kitchen counter and opened it.

It was like she’d been sucker-punched. The first thing she saw was a bundle of pictures of her mother, tied together with a pink ribbon. Pictures of her smiling, young, on her wedding day, and one with her holding her three babies. With an uneven breath, Genie set them aside. Beneath them was a newspaper clipping. An article about the disappearance of a scientist.

She frowned, lifting it to read the caption. The scientist’s name was Tom Garrison.

“Who is that?” Kyle asked, looking over her shoulder.

Genie shook her head, and handed him the article. “I don’t know.” She continued looking through the box, but there was nothing else of interest. Without untying the ribbon, she gingerly placed the pictures back into the box and carefully closed the lid. As Kyle scanned the article, she wondered how she was going to slip away from him to go to the other side of the island and find her father. His guess about her reasoning for her renewed interest in ditching him had been absolutely correct, and the man wasn’t about to willingly let her out of his sight. As he perused the clipping, she thought about what he’d said earlier.

And what he hadn’t said. Or done.

He’d wanted to kiss her. She was sure of it.

He’d been furious at her, probably even hated her, and yet he’d still wanted to hold her and kiss her. His desire
,
his heat, had been rolling off him in hurricane force waves. It wouldn’t have taken much and she’d have given in to him, given in to her own desires.

Not good. She had to stay strong, to stay on course, and send him away. But his want, his need for her, had roared through her, and settled deep in her midsection, making her insides flutter and throb with the hope of it. Hell, she’d
wanted
him to kiss her. No matter how much she’d been railing against him, letting him get under her skin, hating the very thought of him being there with her, reporting back to Cameron, she’d
needed
him to kiss her. To pull her into his arms and make her stop thinking. Make the hurt and the anger and the confusion go away.

But he hadn’t.

And it was pure agony now, how much she wished he had.

Instead he’d pressed his lips tightly together and turned his back on her, shutting off his desire like a switch. And now he was totally absorbed in a fourteen-year-old newspaper article. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, to pull him back. To demand his attention. She just didn’t know how to deal with the onslaught of unwanted emotions flooding her system
—
his, hers, theirs—co-mingled and blended together, until they were a primordial soup from which there was no sorting out or escaping.

She wanted to make him understand, to confide in him. Everything. Especially the hidden secret that burdened her soul—her gift, her curse, the thing that made her and her sisters not right, not normal. She wanted to hear him tell her it was okay. That he didn’t care if she was different. He didn’t mind that she could read him. That, even now, she could sense that he was barely hanging onto control himself.

For a second, the compulsion overwhelmed her and she did reach for him, her hand hovering close to his back. But she stopped herself.

She wouldn’t. She
couldn’t
. It would be crazy. Foolish.

And yet…

Without meaning to, she stepped closer. Maybe if she gave him a chance, just this once, he’d prove to her that he really did have her back, when it mattered most. That he would help her, even if he didn’t understand what was going on.
That he would keep her secrets, even when they made no sense to him
.

He was on her side, that much was clear. She could feel it in everything he said and did. But would he put her first, when the shit hit the fan with her father? Before Cameron’s orders? Before doing his job? Could she take the chance of telling him the truth about where she believed her father was hiding, and trust he’d keep that secret, too?

She just didn’t know.

But she had to try.

“Kyle,” she whispered, and placed her hand on his arm. It was a small touch, a gentle touch, and yet she wanted it to say so darn much.

He turned back to her, his eyes locking onto hers. But he subtly withdrew his arm to break the connection, and when he spoke it was all business.

“This has to be important.” He waved the article.

She swallowed her disappointment and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What
do
you know?”

So that’s how it was to be. “About what?”

“Where is your father, Genie?”

She didn’t say anything. He had the most uncanny ability almost to read her thoughts. It was truly annoying.
She
was the one with that gift.

“I know you know,” Kyle said. “Your father somehow must have known Emerich was coming for him. He had plenty of time to plan an escape.”

Still she said nothing. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to confess it all. She just couldn’t seem to do it, couldn’t seem to cross that line.

She saw the pain, the anger and confusion in his expression, but more than that she felt it. She hated that she was the cause of all his angst. When all she had to do was tell him the truth and make it stop. But she couldn’t let herself. This wasn’t just her secret to tell, her life that would be impacted.
Damn.

She took another step back from it, from him, as the intensity of his emotions rolled over her. Yet another step, and her back bumped up against the counter. He leaned over her, his face mere inches from hers. “I’m here to help you,” he gritted out. “Why won’t you let me? Why won’t you be honest with me? What could be so bad, you can’t tell me the truth?”

The heat in his gaze was almost more than she could bear. She couldn’t stop herself, her gaze flitted from his eyes to his mouth. It was all the invitation he needed. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, his lips crushing hers. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, forceful and demanding. She melted under the onslaught of his kiss. No longer able to fight him, to fight herself. Her knees went weak. Her breath grew shallow. Her heartbeat took off at a hundred miles an hour as her blood rushed through her veins, pulsing a delicious beat as her need built with each thrust of his tongue.

She twined her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, harder, tighter. Heat rose up her chest, flooding her, stealing her thoughts, so all she could do was feel and want and need.

“I’m—”

His phone rang. The ringing reaching into her fogged brain and dragging her out of her lust-induced stupor and back to her senses. She pulled away. Kyle swore under his breath then answered the phone.

“All right. Yes, sir, we did.” Kyle looked at her, his eyes filling with an apology. “Yes, we spoke to her. Marsters had forewarning. We think he’s hiding somewhere, maybe even close by. The box?”

The box?

Kyle hadn’t had time yet to call Cameron about the box Mary had given them.

Cold realization slithered like a venomous snake inside her. Genie’s hand fluttered to her stomach as she took a step back from him. Her gaze quickly searched the room, the cabinets, behind the bowl of fruit on the counter, the plant on the kitchen table. Where was it?

“Yes, a newspaper article about a missing scientist. A Tom Garrison.” He nodded. “We’d appreciate anything you can find out about him. Yes, we’re going after Marsters now.” Kyle hung up the phone.

“He’s bugged my father’s house. This house.”

Kyle nodded woodenly. “Would appear so.”

“You’re not surprised?”

He snorted softly. “Are you?”

Dammit, she shouldn’t be. The realization hit her like a slap in the face. Kyle had been questioning her about Becca right there in that room, knowing full well Cameron was listening to every word they’d said. Before her face betrayed her sudden anguish, she turned and sprinted out the back door.

How could she have been so stupid? Kyle Montgomery was a company man, first and foremost. He always had been. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself forget that so quickly. She couldn’t trust him. Not ever. Not with her family, not with their—
her
—secrets, and most certainly not with her heart. What had she been thinking kissing him like that, worrying about whether or not she could tell him everything? Letting him get that much closer?

With Kyle, his job would always come first.
Always
.

She would always be a distant second. And that was not the way she wanted to live.

Sure as hell not the way she wanted to love.

…

Kyle bolted out the door after her. The last thing he needed was her running off half-cocked and disappearing again. He wouldn’t put it past her. Not for a hot minute. She was stubborn, infuriating, impossible, and…
Damn
it! “Genie!”

He found her sitting on the ground at the base of a large tree on the far side of the back lawn before the trail that led through the woods back to the docks. Her head was bent forward, her face resting in the crook of her arms, her shoulders making tiny jerking motions. Seeing her like that, lost and alone, sucked the anger right out of him. He felt an urge to scoop her up into his arms and tell her everything would be okay.