Hot Secrets (8 page)

“Yeah, I know,” Luke said. “I’ve
read about it in the paper.”

“Then you know how much
attention the case is getting.”

“If this was about her case, why
send the letters to the senator?”

“Scare the father into
protecting the daughter,” he said. “Get her off the case.”

“And the calls?”

“Scare her into listening to
him.”

“I like the blackmail angle
better,” Luke said. “I assume you’ve sent the letters to your buddy
at the FBI lab?”

“Yesterday,” he said, pushing to
his feet. “And I’m hoping he can give me something to make this
fast and easy to put to rest. But I don’t want to count on that and
have it not happen.”

“Understood,” Luke said,
standing with him. “I’ll get out my magnifying glass and start
looking, with a little extra attention on the senator’s personal
activities. And I’ll get surveillance on her office, home, and
likewise for the senator, while I’m at it.”

Royce gave him a sharp,
approving nod, before he headed back to his apartment and inched
his way closer to the end of that plank.

Chapter Six

Royce found Lauren sitting on
his living room floor with photo albums spread around her. She
turned to face him, smiling. “Oh my God, for a guy, you have so
many pictures.”

Royce wasn’t sure how to take
that. “For a guy?” He moved toward her, sitting down after
shuffling a couple albums to the side.

Her smile widened. “Maybe you’re
not the ‘bad boy’ your reputation says you are.” And then before he
could ask about that comment, she pointed to a picture of him
hugging his dog when he was a kid. “And you love animals.”

He squatted down beside her and
looked at the picture, grinning at the sight of his Golden
Retriever wearing a pointed hat. “That was Scooter’s second
birthday.”

Lauren giggled, pointing at the
picture. “You mean you made the cake for the dog?”

“My mom did, but I asked her to.
Scooter was my best friend.” He frowned. “He got really sick after
eating that cake. My mom later informed me the bone was for him and
the cake was for us.”

Lauren almost choked, laughter
bubbling from her throat. “How much did he eat?”

His frown deepened at the
memory. “The whole thing.”

Lauren tumbled over to her side
in a laughing fit. Royce watched her, and any other time, he would
have laughed right along with her. But every second he was with
Lauren, he wanted another, and another.

He liked her, and damn it, he
was taking advantage of her, hiding things from her for her
father’s benefit. She thought he was a nice guy when he was nothing
but a lying bastard. And God, what a bastard he was. She was making
him crazy. She was adorable right now, and adorable had never been
so sexy. He was hard as a rock, ready to rip her clothes off and
make love to her. That he knew she’d blow off her lunch and let
him, only made the temptation all the greater.

He moved toward her, where she
lay on her back, and lowered his body over hers, resting his arms
on either side of her head. Lauren stopped laughing, suddenly
serious. She stared up at him, her eyes simmering with expectancy.
And trust. She kept giving him her trust and it tore at him. It
tore at him
because
he
wanted to deserve it, and right now, he didn’t.

“Don’t kid yourself, Lauren. I’m
no good guy.”

Confusion flashed in her eyes,
but only for a moment. “I’ll decide that on my own, but thank you
anyway.”

“I’m not.”

“Innocent until proven
guilty.”

And he would be. He’d be guilty
in the end of deceiving her. There was no way around it. The words
were like ice water, dousing him with hard reality, and he pulled
her to her feet. “I better get you to that lunch before you find
the picture of my bulldog ‘Rocky’ dressed as a clown.”

She laughed. “You’re not
serious.”

He sighed. “There’s a reason I
wasn’t allowed into the canine unit.”

And when she smiled at him, he
knew he’d do just about anything to keep those smiles coming his
way. He just wasn’t sure ‘anything’ would be enough.

***

Lauren stepped into her father’s
house feeling more than a little out of sorts. This thing, whatever
it was, between her and Royce, was confusing. Of course visiting
her father’s place always made her uneasy.

Voices led her to the dining
room where she found not only her father and stepmother, but to her
surprise and discomfort, her stepbrother, Brad Foster. She wouldn’t
have come had she known he’d be here. Everything about Brad
s
a
t wrong with herfrom
his personality to his mousy brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and
standard uniform of a pressed button-down shirt and a blazer. Brad
looked up and smiled at her. It took tremendous energy for her to
smile back. “I thought you were out of town, Brad.” Lauren entered
the room as she spoke, a slight edge to her voice she couldn’t seem
to contain.

“I flew in late last night,” he
said, his eyes following her movements.

She hated the way Brad watched
her all the time. “It was too bad you couldn’t make it to the
party.”

“Morning, Lauren,” her father
said, settling his napkin in his lap and reaching for a crystal
glass filled with iced tea.

“Morning, Daddy,” she said, and
then forced her attention to her stepmother, “Hello, Sharon.”

Lauren sat down at her place
setting, directly across from Brad, flipping her napkin open. The
table was filled with an array of brunch items. Lean cuts of roast
beef, croissants, fresh fruit, and potato salad. “I’m starving. The
food looks good.” Despite the rather nauseating company, her
stomach was feeling better, as was her head.

With a wink, her father smiled.
“Well then, by all means, let’s eat.”

“Brad was just telling us about
his most recent case,” Sharon commented, clearly aiming to take
some sort of jab at Lauren. She always had an agenda.

Brad leaned back in his chair,
arrogance etched in his chiseled features. Lauren couldn’t help
making a hasty comparison between Brad and Royce. Although Royce
was arrogant, he wasn’t a snob. Royce was confident. Brad oozed
an
“I’m
better than
you”
cockiness that drove her bonkers. “Just a little
corporate trademark case,” Brad gloated with fake humbleness. “A
few million in jeopardy. Nothing as exciting as the murder and
mayhem Lauren favors.”

Lauren was reaching for her
glass when Brad’s words hit her. Her hand froze around the chilled
drink. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, fixing Brad with a frosty
stare.

A slow, poisonous smile turned
up the corners of her mouth. “I protect the public. Do you have a
problem with putting criminals behind bars?”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate
for a senator’s daughter,” he commented dryly.

Her mouth dropped open for a
moment, then, through clenched teeth, she demanded, “And how
exactly does your trademark war you’re litigating better serve the
public than putting a murderer behind bars?”

“I guess I don’t consider
putting a battered woman in the electric chair justice for the
public or anyone else.”

“You don’t know anything about
this case,” she said, barely containing the urge to reach for her
drink again and throw it in his face.

“Brad, I think that’s enough,”
the senator chided.

“Yes, enough Brad,” Sharon
added, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Lauren almost snorted. Of course
it was enough. Her father had spoken. No way would Sharon have said
a word until he did.

“What is it with your dislike
for law enforcement, Brad?” And she couldn’t help taking a jab.
“You have some skeleton in your closet you don’t want
discovered?”

Brad flung his napkin on the
table. “Now just one damn minute”

“Enough,” Sharon said more
firmly this time.

Lauren and Brad stared at each
other, and she made sure he saw the contempt she felt in her eyes.
After several seconds, she pushed to her feet, “I’m not so hungry
after all.” Lauren headed to the kitchen, filled a cup with coffee
and headed to the den, her favorite room in the house, where she
fully intended to try and calm down while waiting for the cab she
was about to call.

She entered the room of warm
browns and heavy oak, lined with law books she’d spent hours of her
life studying. It was an escape for her, a place of peace after her
mother’s death.

Setting her coffee down on the
nearby desk, she turned to the books, eager to make a selection
relevant to her upcoming trial, and temporarily forgetting her cab.
She stood there, lost in the text, as she had so many times before.
That was, until a faint thickness in the air made the hair on the
back of her neck stand up. She turned, finding Brad far too close
for comfort, a mere foot away, at most. It was unnerving. She
hadn’t heard him approach. She stiffened, knowing how aggressive he
could get. He took a step closer, and she had nowhere to go but
into the bookshelf.

His eyes traveled a slow path up
and down her body, and then settled on her face. “You know, I’ve
always thought you were quite beautiful when you’re angry.
Sometimes I get you fired up just to watch the way your eyes
sparkle when your temper flares.” He stepped closer and reached to
touch her cheek.

Lauren turned her head to avoid
his touch. “Don’t,” she bit out.

He pulled his hand away, but his
eyes felt like a melting ember on her skin. “We’d be good together,
you and I.”

“Brad, stop,” Lauren said,
looking at him, wanting him to see the distaste in her eyes.

“You’re afraid of how it would
look,” he said, his hand going to the bookcase beside her, trapping
her in a corner. “But you shouldn’t be. We aren’t blood relatives.
You lost your mother. You found me. The press will eat it up. We’ll
be everyone’s love story.”

She shut the book. “You’re
talking craziness, Brad.”

His hand slid to her cheek and
she slapped it away. Panic rushed over her. He never touched her
and that he did now set off warning bells. She tried to step around
him. He moved with her, blocking her.

“What’s gotten into you?” she
demanded, hands pressed hard against his chest.

A wicked grin filled his face as
his head dipped toward her. “You have, and I’d like to get into
you.”

She’d always thought he was a
little off somehow, always thought him a little too like some of
the unsavory types she put behind bars, but he’d taken it to a
whole new level today. She inhaled slowly, more than a little
experienced with dealing with people like Brad. “I’m going to give
you three seconds to move out of my way before I bring my knee to
your crotch and make sure you know it’s there. One. Two. Three.” He
moved, laughing evilly.

She yanked her phone from her
purse, even as she walked towards the dining room to tell her
father she was feeling sick. Of course, Sharon made a snide remark
about ‘too much champagne will do that to you’ but Lauren let it
ride. She just wanted out of the house, out of
this house
. And sadly, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t
exactly what Brad, and Sharon, wanted. Lauren was the intruder, the
outsider. She couldn’t complain and have it do any good. Her father
wanted Sharon and he wouldn’t risk losing her
;
she’d learned that the hard way too many
times to count. But ironically, neither could Sharon and Brad quite
get rid of Lauren. And for the first time ever, Lauren felt done
with this battle, done fighting for her home, for a family that
wasn’t a family at all. In fact, she was so done with this, that
she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t just let Brad and Sharon get
what they really want. Maybe Lauren should just go away and stay
away.

Chapter Seven

It was seven-thirty on the dot
and Lauren sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open. A thunderous
knock sounded on her front door, and a smile tugged at Lauren’s
lips despite her nervousness over seeing Royce again. There was
simply no doubt that he was her visitor, as there seemed to be
nothing that man did in a small way.

With a combination of
trepidation and eager anticipation, Lauren stood up and ran her
hands over her light blue, long-sleeved dress, where it tapered at
her waist. Her gaze dropped to ensure her skirt rested properly
just above her knees, then to inspect her strappy black sandals,
somehow comforted to see everything was where it should be.

She inhaled a deep, calming
breath and then walked to the door and, without giving herself time
to think, opened it. “Hi,” she said, her throat going dry even
before she took in the sight he made standing there, somehow closer
than she’d expected, while appearing bigger than she remembered.
His hair was loose around his shoulders, black slacks molding a
powerful lower body, his black button-down sculpting a stellar
chest and arms.

“Hi,” he said, gifting her with
a sexy grin that all but had her melting into her tiled floor. “You
look amazing, Lauren.” His voice was velvety soft and full of
welcome male appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said, her own
voice a bit hoarser than it should have been, but then, it wasn’t
often a girl had a man like this at her door, ready to take her to
dinner while looking like he wanted to eat
her
for
dinner. She stepped back into the hallway. “Come
in.”

A moment later the door was
closed, and they stood toe-to-toe, the scent of him, spicy and
male, wrapping around her, teasing her senses. Delicately, she
cleared her throat. “I should get my purse.”

“It can wait,” he said, his
hands settling around her, pulling her close. “I’ve been thinking
about kissing you all afternoon.” He nuzzled her neck.
“So
,
can I?” His lips
brushed her ear. “Can I kiss you, Lauren?”