Jagged Hearts (7 page)

“Take your time,” he said.

“Bare.” She held her hand up, and he stopped in his tracks. “Are we okay?” She looked so uncertain. “I mean, I understand if you want a rain check on your earlier offer.”

He moved in, wrapped one hand around her waist and used the other to cup her lush ass and lift her into him. “I’m trying to give you space. You’ve had a lot to take in today. Memories were already riding you. This sure as hell didn’t help.”

“You’re right. It didn’t. But it’s not my memories I want to hold me this time. They’re poor comfort when I have a flesh-and-blood man who’s promised to help me learn to live again.”

“Anything you want, Paisley. All you ever have to do is ask, and if I can give it to you, I will.”

“Kiss me?” she asked, and he dropped his mouth immediately to hers.

Their mouths brushed, hers soft and full beneath his. He flicked his tongue along the bottom curve, dipping it slightly between the part and rubbing her teeth. She opened those too, and he met her in a heated duel that had his cock flexing in his jeans. At this rate, he’d need a shower, too—nice and cold.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, running his lips up her cheek to her temple and placing a soft kiss there. “And my offer very much stands.” He eased back from her, couldn’t resist dropping another kiss, this time on her forehead, then stepped away, putting a bit of distance between them. “Go take your shower.”

She nodded, one hand coming up to touch her face as if holding his touch there. It almost undid him, almost had him sweeping her up in his arms and taking her across to his bed. He’d show her how to live in vivid Technicolor. It took all he had to turn and walk away from her, but Gilly was most likely already in his office, waiting.

Bare didn’t see Seth as he made his way down the back staircase to the basement level of the house where Gilly kept his office and security system monitors. Gilly stood before the wall of screens, hands behind his back. His gaze skimmed over the monitors that showed the road leading to his house as well as the property on all four sides, the front entryway, the back entryway, the kitchen door and the main living area. Gilly could easily work for Jamison at Knight’s Watch but preferred to be on his own.

“Anything?” Bare asked as he joined him.

Gilly shook his head. “I’m not expecting anything, but it’s always good to keep your eyes open.” He moved away, heading to his big desk at the other end of the room. “I’ve been doing a little digging. Called in a favor to get a copy of the police file on what happened.”

“And?” Bare asked.

“No fingerprints belonging to anyone who shouldn’t have been in the house. Lance McIntire took a fatal stab to the heart. Poor bastard never stood a chance. The attacker had to be ready as soon as that door had opened. He’d planned to kill McIntire.” Gilly ran a hand through his hair, and Bare had a feeling what his cousin was going to say. “Paisley was a different story, though. The attack against her was more personal and more vicious in nature. ”

Bare met Gilly’s stare dead-on. Jamison had done some digging as well when Paisley was attacked. Bare knew how much Paisley had suffered. Plus, he’d been there to see her in the hospital. He’d held her while she’d cried. He didn’t want to hear what she’d lived through. He knew it by heart. “I know.”

“This looks like one of two things to me,” Gilly said. “A professional hit or an inside job.”

Bare didn’t hide his surprise. “You think someone wanted her dead?”

“Or him,” Gilly said. “I’d be interested in knowing if there was any change in routine that day. Maybe, she wasn’t supposed to be there. Maybe, he wasn’t.”

“Christ, the thought someone planned this, planned to hurt her that way.” He shook his head. “What kind of sick fuck would do this?” Only one person came to mind.

“Yeah, already ahead of you there,” Gilly said. “Skip’s seeing what he can find on one Vivian Ames.”

“The police never looked at her,” Bare admitted. God, it would kill Paisley if Vivian was behind this.

“I’d say she’s more than made bank on her appearances and guest speaking spots since Paisley’s attack.” Gilly shuffled some papers on his desk. “Interesting thing is that Vivian Ames is almost completely broke. She’s in debt up to her eyeballs despite pulling in some nice figures for some of the engagements she’s done.”

“Where’s all her money going?” Bare mused.

“Exactly,” Gilly agreed. “I can see the money leaving her account. It goes through several different channels then just disappears.”

“You can’t find it?” Bare asked, completely surprised. There was little Gilly couldn’t find if he wanted to.

“Yet,” he said. “I’m still digging. It had to go somewhere. Eventually, I’ll find it.”

“This will destroy Paisley.” Bare said aloud the words he was thinking.

“No,” Gilly disagreed. “Maybe, it would have a year ago. Hell, even a month ago. But I saw strength in the woman I met today, the same one who showed up on my doorstep. I’m not saying she won’t take a hard knock if it turns out her mother had anything to do with this, but I don’t think she’ll crumble. Not this time. And I think the reason is standing here with me.”

“I can’t shield her from this,” Bare said.

“No, but you can be there for her, just like you have been for the last five years.”

Bare turned and walked back to the monitors. “She asked me to help her learn to live again. Today. After lunch.”

“That’s great,” Gilly said from behind him. “I know you’ve been waiting for that.”

“I wanted to give her time. Take her out. Show her all the things she’s been missing out on. See her smile. Hear her laugh. Share kisses. See if we have a shot at something more than friends.”

“So do that,” Gilly said. “Though I never thought of you as the romantic type.” He slapped Bare on the back and chuckled.

Bare grunted. He wasn’t feeling romantic at the moment. He was feeling cavemanish. He wanted to throw Paisley down on the first flat surface—or
against
a flat surface. Hell, any surface would do at the moment. He wanted to fuck her until neither of them could stand. It was a moment years in the making, at least in his mind.

“We’ll keep her safe,” Gilly said.

Bare nodded. “I promised Paisley dinner.”

“I’ve already got it cooking,” Gilly said. “Made stew. All I need to do is put the bread in the oven.” He headed toward the stairs. “You coming?”

“I’m just going to watch the monitors for a minute,” Bare said. He knew Gilly had them wired with alarms. His cousin just shrugged and walked upstairs. Bare figured the man knew he needed some time alone to get himself under control.

He’d leave it all up to Paisley. He wouldn’t pursue her the way he wanted to, but he wouldn’t turn her away either. If she came to him, he’d give them both what they needed.

Chapter Six

They’d finished dinner hours ago, and still, Paisley paced her bedroom, arguing with herself. She felt like a teenager all over again, the way she was debating her actions. She wanted to go across the hall, sneak into Bare’s room and slip into his bed. No, she wanted more than that. She wanted him to hold her, make love to her. Scratch that, too. She wanted him to fuck her into oblivion. It was as if once she’d made the decision to step out from behind her past, she couldn’t wait. She’d let the past hold her back for too long.

She would always love Lance, would always mourn the child they should have had, but she was finally coming to grips with the fact his death didn’t mean hers as well. That was why she’d decided to go out this week instead of staying cooped up as she always did. She was tired of having only her grief to keep her company. And now that she’d felt Bare against her, his touch and his kiss, she didn’t want to go back. She wouldn’t. No, she couldn’t.

She grabbed the silk robe Bare had packed for her and slipped it over the matching gown she wore. Both hit her mid-thigh.

“Live,” she whispered aloud. She was choosing to live, and Bare was just across the hall. Too close for her to deny.

She eased her door open and looked both ways before tiptoeing over to Bare’s door and slipping inside. His room was dark, but she made out the shadow of the bed across from her. She stood for a minute, allowing her eyes to adjust until she saw his shape under the sheet. Her breath caught in her throat, and she ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips.

She cautiously crossed until she stood over him. His dark-brown hair was sleep rumpled, the perpetual five o’clock shadow darker and thicker on his face. She wanted to touch him. She even reached out her hand but stopped before she gave into the urge. Instead, she ran her gaze over the tattoos adorning his perfect body. She wanted to trace them, with her tongue. God, it was as if her libido had awoken with a vengeance.

“Are you going to stand there staring at me all night?” Bare asked without moving a muscle, eyes still closed.

She cleared her throat. “I might.”

That got one eye open. “Or you could crawl in here with me.” He lifted the cover on the other side in invitation.

Paisley moved around the bed, dropping her robe to the floor as she did and slid onto the mattress with him. He immediately pulled her to him, curling her into his embrace. She turned onto her side, resting one hand on his chest and propping her chin on it.

“I wasn’t sure you’d welcome me here,” she admitted.

He lifted a brow at her, his hand running up and down her side, stopping briefly on each pass to cup her hip. “You’re more than welcome.”

“Are you worried?” she asked softly, trying to read the flickering in his eyes, but Bare gave away nothing.

“About you getting hurt again?” he asked. “Not physically. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to lay a hand on you. Emotionally?” He sighed.

“You can’t protect me from my emotions,” she admonished. “Only I can do that. I meant what I said when I told my dad that my mom can’t hurt me anymore. What?” she asked, seeing something in his gaze that gave her pause.

“I debated whether or not to say anything to you,” Bare said. “But bottom line is it’s your life. You need to know.”

“Know what?” Paisley asked.

“Gilly did some digging, into the attack that night.”

“The police did a thorough investigation,” Paisley said. “They left no stone unturned. Still they found nothing.”

“I’m not saying Gilly discovered who attacked you that night, but he did say it appeared to be a professional hit.”

She swallowed, her mind working through what he was saying. “You think someone hired that person to attack me?”

“Or Lance,” Bare said.

She shook her head. “Lance didn’t have any enemies.”

“Everyone has enemies,” Bare countered. “Was anything different that day? Any changes in routine?”

She didn’t want to remember. Wasn’t that why she was here, in Bare’s bed? So she didn’t have to relive the past over and over again? She saw the concern in his gaze and went back to that day anyway.

“I left early from the studio. I wasn’t feeling well, hadn’t been for weeks. So I went for a drive, stopped at an out-of-the-way market where no one even noticed me and bought three pregnancy tests. I headed home, took them and waited for Lance to get home from the set.”

Bare squeezed her closer, somehow sensing she needed his touch to ground her to the here and now. “What would you have normally done?”

“I would have been on set for another few hours, reading through scripts for the next day, checking in with wardrobe, stuff like that.”

“Then what?” Bare prompted.

“Gym,” she said. “I spent my days in a bikini. That meant eating right and maintaining my body with a rigorous gym routine. The camera isn’t kind. I’ve put on twenty pounds since I left.”

“And you’re still too skinny,” Bare grouched. He glanced down at her, and she swore she saw uncertainty in his gaze. “Do you miss it?”

She shook her head without delay. “No. I never wanted to be an actress. That was my mom’s dream.”

“What was yours?”

“Writing,” she admitted. “I planned to entertain the world in a completely different fashion.”

“Have you done any since you’ve been here?”

“Just journaling. My attempt at working through the grief and pain.”

“It must have helped,” he said. “You’re here.”

She nodded. Maybe, it hadn’t been the best way, but it had been hers, and it had helped. Grief was different for everyone. For some, five years might seem like forever, for others not nearly long enough.

“After the gym,” he said. “Did you head home then?”

“After I stopped to check on Vivian. It was my way of trying to keep track of what she’d planned. I’d stop by, make sure she hadn’t booked me into anything I wasn’t comfortable with. It was a bone of contention for Lance. He hated Vivian, hated the way she dictated my every move. He wanted me to cut ties completely with her. He knew she tied me in knots.”

“Smart man,” Bare said.

“He was,” Paisley admitted, and though her heart ached at the thought of Lance, it didn’t paralyze her as it had so often in the past. Then her mind went beyond Lance and locked onto what Bare was trying to get her to figure out.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have normally been home, but the attacker was on the stairs when I saw him. He knew I was there.”

“So maybe he was watching the house. Or someone told him you’d be there,” Bare offered, watching her with a hooded gaze.

“What are you saying?” Paisley asked, but Bare didn’t say anything else, letting her figure it out for herself.

She pushed away from his chest and sat up in bed beside him. “My mother is a lot of things, but even I don’t think she’d be capable of murder.”

“Sounds like she had a good reason for wanting Lance out of the picture,” Bare said.

“Still, murder isn’t her style. Too messy. She would have found another way. Framing him for having an affair. Framing me for having an affair.”

“Can you think of anyone else who would have been motivated to want one of you gone?”

She shook her head. “Like I said, everyone loved Lance. Everywhere we went, people gravitated to him. He was that type of person. Warm and inviting. Affectionate and happy. You couldn’t be around him and not smile.”