“Don’t,” she mouthed, shaking her head sternly, almost hyperventilating.
But I did. I untied the knot that kept my pants secure around my hips and let them fall to the ground without a sound. She inhaled sharply, the pinkness in her cheeks deepening to an adorable red.
“Yes, yes, I am fine,” she was saying.
As I crouched once more over her, Charlotte took cover beneath the duvet, groaning as I ripped it from her fingers and threw it to the ground.
I pounced like a jaguar on its prey. She stuttered, hardly paying any attention to her caller, and licked her lips, tempting me even when she wanted to contain me. My lips closed around the sensitive spot where her pulse beat chaotically, and I sucked and nibbled until my mark was starkly imprinted on her beautiful skin.
“No hiding allowed,” I warned her, trailing wet kisses on her quivering flesh until I reached a half-exposed breast and lavished it with attention.
Her fist clenched in my hair, pushing me away even as she pulled me closer. The low moan that trembled in her throat elicited a groan of my own. I was close to losing control, when my intention had merely been to tease her, to lure her like she always lured me.
“One day, there will be no doubt in your mind about how I feel for you, Charlotte.”
“Nothing, you must have heard wrong.”
Only to test her reaction, I caressed her hips and let my hands dip south, seeking the blatant evidence of her arousal. She hissed and shot out of bed, grabbing the duvet and wrapping it around her body.
“I am busy at the moment,” she excused herself as she faced the window. I threw my head back and laughed, which earned me an adorable glare and a pointed finger that guaranteed retribution. “I will make sure to visit as soon as possible, I promise.”
“Bring it on, baby,” I dared her then finally headed for the bathroom, leaving her to her caller, who most probably was her sister.
When I emerged from the shower, she was still on the phone, but I instantly got the impression she was not talking to the same person as before. Her features were drawn into a frown, and her hands were trembling by her sides. I pulled her into my arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, keeping both of us calm and collected.
Charlotte softened promptly and let out a sigh of resignation. “I will be there, but there is not much I can help you with, detective,” she spoke curtly, then hung up, rubbing her face in frustration. I already knew where she needed to go and why.
“You are safe, Charlotte. You are not going alone.”
She watched me hesitantly, but equally hopeful. I knew her reticence about being seen with me in public was prompted by her wish to protect me from my father’s prying eyes. Given the latest events, that was so far out of my mind that I couldn’t even bring myself to care. I kissed her breathless and chuckled when she swayed a little.
It was when she saw my positively brazen and totally amused grin that she frowned and slapped my chest. The accusations dripping from her eyes managed to make me laugh again, but this time, she didn’t remain as calm as before. She grabbed cushions and pillows and threw them my way, hissing while she displayed her warrior self to my utter delight.
“Who were you talking to earlier?” I chuckled and eventually ceased ducking her hardly lethal projectiles and strode back to her. When my arms firmed around her waist, her tiptoes could barely touch the ground.
“My mother,” Charlotte cried outraged.
“Your mother?”
“Yes, Marcus. I do have a mother.”
Stupidly, the notion seemed so alien, but of course, she had a mother, whose name I didn’t even know. I realized I was gritting my teeth when Charlotte cupped my cheeks and pressed a delicate kiss to my lips as if saying she forgave me for seducing her while talking on the phone with her mother.
“I know, it's just that we never spoke about her.”
She eyed me sadly, sympathetically, the glint in her eyes saying what her lips refrained from. We never spoke about mine either, and perhaps that was why she had never dared to discuss hers.
“I don’t want you to hold back, Charlotte. You can talk to me about anything. Anytime.”
“Would you like to meet her?” she asked shyly, offering me a gorgeous smile that I had no defenses against.
“As soon as possible.”
She agreed happily, the last agreement we had before we started fighting about her already scheduled return to New York. By the time she finished dressing, her luggage was at the door and so was I. Neither her attempts at rationalizing with me nor her compelling kisses swayed me.
Charlotte fought me although her eyes were pleading for something else. She complained and listed all the obligations that tied her to D.C., but she didn’t quite want to fight me, so when she saw me ready to go, all the fight left in her evaporated.
I was not surprised to hear her sighing with relief as she stepped out of her room. The ride to the police station was silent. Charlotte kept kneading her hands in her lap and glancing every so often out the window at the people that went about their business, unaware of the gruesomeness that afflicted their world.
When we arrived at the police station, Vincent Cole met us at the entrance. He said something that indicated he had already been there on business, but I got the feeling he had been purposefully waiting for Charlotte.
“You still look shaken,” Cole observed. “Let me represent you, Charlotte. You shouldn’t trouble yourself over this ordeal any more than you already have. It would be an honor.”
“I can handle it,” Charlotte snapped.
I glanced at her, perplexed, and it was at that moment that I noticed the stony set of her features and the glacial look in her eyes. I couldn’t quite tell whether it was because I wanted to offer comfort or silently ask for an explanation, but I put my arm around her waist and Charlotte took refuge in my half embrace.
“What’s the matter?” I whispered in her ear so only she could hear me.
She shook her head gently, albeit a little rigidly, then confronted Cole’s startled eyes.
“I’m a lawyer too, Cole. I can represent myself.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but detective Foreman stepped out into the hallway and asked Charlotte to follow. I trailed after them only to be stopped by the woman who pinned me with a critical stare and told me that I was not allowed to accompany Charlotte when she was supposed to identify the man who attacked her.
My hand tightened around her slim fingers, and my teeth gritted, but the policewoman remained unimpressed by my glares or almost audible growls.
“Follow me,” she decreed, motioning to Charlotte.
“I’ll only be a moment,” Charlotte murmured, prying her little hand from my grasp. “It’s procedure.”
The sad nature of Charlotte’s voice and the resigned look in her eyes did little to convince me to let her go. She nodded to herself, mustering the courage to face her attacker, and made to step away when my arm automatically curled around her waist.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Vincent Cole stepped to the side to allow Charlotte to pass. She followed detective Foreman into a room at the end of the corridor while Cole watched her with a sort of brooding gaze that I couldn’t quite make sense of.
He looked spent and absent-minded as he rolled his head from one side to the other then excused himself.
I couldn’t even waste a glance on him. My attention was glued to that door at the end of the hallway.
The forced smile Charlotte had offered me before she stepped into that room was a calming companion in the minutes that followed. The moments dragged on, and my mind, suddenly not occupied by Charlotte, was freely whipped by a rage that returned so aggressively that it momentarily choked me.
After a whole night of witnessing Charlotte’s tossing and turning, of watching her tense features as dreadful nightmares tormented her mind, after holding her writhing body and feeling utterly powerless, I was furious, and that fury had to be u
nleashed on somebody. I was especially angry since the damn nightmares were back after a fairly long while of peaceful nights.
Marching up and down the corridor and burning holes in the granite under my feet, I kept staring back at the closed door that separated me from Charlotte. I pressed the phone to my ear, almost slamming my fist through the thin walls when finally, someone answered.
“Hudson,” an annoyed voice greeted me as if he didn’t know who he was speaking with.
“We need to meet,” I snarled, but somehow managed to keep my voice a whisper.
“I’m in New York actually. Should I come by your father’s firm? I can be there in twenty.”
“No,” I said harshly, struggling to ignore the enthusiasm in Hudson’s tone. “I’ll come to you. Send me the location.”
I hung up and covered my face, rubbing at my eyes as though that small, repeated gesture could dissipate the white-hot anger coursing through my system.
When Charlotte emerged minutes later from the interrogation room, looking pale as a ghost and nearly in tears—again—I grew even more furious. I was on the verge of a murderous frenzy.
She flung herself into my arms without a word, muffling her sobs against my chest.
“Don’t worry me like this, Charlotte.”
“Just take me away from here,” she sobbed, teary eyes looking up at me anxiously.
IT WAS PAST NOON WHEN we landed in New York, and it was even later when I parked my car in front of Christina’s apartment building. Gripping the steering wheel, I turned in my seat to face Charlotte who had been distant ever since we left the police station in D.C. She eyed me shyly, gifting me with a delicate smile.
“Come upstairs. Christina won’t eat you, I promise,” she murmured, leaning into my touch when I cupped her cheek and brushed her lips with my thumb.
“I should drop by the office. I think Weston needs me for something.”
Charlotte nodded, but her disappointment was clear. I hated lying to her.
I stifled guilt, worry, and frustration with the blissful feeling of her lips trapped between mine. I kissed her softly, massaging her lower lip and nuzzling her chilled nose until she let out a warm moan.
The vulnerability in her gaze tempted me just as harshly as her graceful sensuality. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and hold her tightly, to swallow her in the rooms of my heart where she filled every corner.
The intensity of my feelings scared me. This level of untamed need, this incapability to let her go was bound to scar my heart. I could only hope that Charlotte would be merciful with the fortress she had conquered, that she would treat my heart gently, and that, if need be, she would heal my wounds.
“I love you,” I heard myself whispering.
Charlotte sobbed.
It didn’t pass my notice that she hadn’t said it back. I needed her to tell me she felt the same for me just as I needed to scream to the world my own feelings for her. Yet, I would never pressure her nor trick her into confessing something she wasn’t ready for. I smiled sadly when the silence stretched, and her eyes wouldn’t travel higher than chin-level.
“Don’t say it like it’s the last time.”
“Never.”
I forced her to meet my eyes and kissed her, never breaking eye contact. She seemed troubled, and I suspected that yesterday’s events weren’t the only cause. Charlotte was tremendously intuitive. She had suspected that something was going on with me since the night I refused Hudson’s offer.
“Please call Kai if you need anything and you can’t reach me. I don’t want you alone on the streets if possible.” I grabbed her phone and programmed Kai’s phone number, absolutely aware of her puzzled glances.
“Why wouldn’t I be able to reach you?”
“Things might happen.”
Things like meeting Julian Hudson or actually entertaining the idea of accepting his deal.
Her eyes narrowed. She did not bother to pretend that she had welcomed my explanation since she probably hadn’t. After Charlotte slid out of the car and disappeared into the building, I knew I was a fool for imagining I could lie to her for too long.
HUDSON WAS OVERLY WATCHFUL, but I found I liked his prudence. Burton & Associates was definitely not the venue to meet, and neither was the hotel he was staying at since he was undoubtedly monitored by more eyes and ears than he cared to count. When he sent me the address of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, I was hardly surprised.
“Were you followed?” Hudson demanded as soon as he dismounted his ride. It was a black and red Harley Davidson, so lush and wild that I could hardly reconcile it with the man who rode it.
Faced with my astonished expression, Hudson smirked and patted the quieted beast. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to get on my good side, or we really had more in common than I thought, but the surprise wasn’t going to distract me from the real purpose of this meeting.
“I’m not an idiot, Hudson.”
“So what is the meaning of this? Did you reconsider my offer?”
He looked expectant, but my scoff made his spine straighten and his chin rise in some sort of challenge. Then he caught the scent of my inner crisis and prepared to take the final leap before he snatched and added me to his collection of loyal soldiers.
I didn’t cope well with being controlled or commanded, but things had changed, and whether I liked it or not, I depended on his help. Although Charlotte wasn’t aware of it yet, she was in as much danger as the woman she was looking for. Last night had been a clear proof of that.
“Do you know what happened last night?” I shot at him. “I went back to D.C. to find Charlotte beaten and scared out of her mind. Do you even know how close to a tragedy everything was? Do you know she could have been injected with a lethal dose of cocaine? She could have died. So no, I’m not here to accept your offer. I’m here to ask you—No, I’m here to demand that you do your damn FBI thing and put that scumbag of a mayor and his evil spawn behind bars. And do it now.”
“Are you done?” Hudson sighed. His annoyance turned to compassion, then to something very close to understanding. “I am truly sorry about Ms. Burton’s injuries and the danger she is in, but this is exactly why we have to take Mitch Stewart down. I cannot do that without you, Marcus. I know the facts, but I don’t have the proof. I need you to collect the proof that will show, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Mitch Stewart is guilty of all the horrible things we know he is.”
“Have you listened to anything I told you?” I shouted. “Charlotte is already in a hell of a lot of danger. If I accept your offer, it’s like I’m putting a target on our backs.”
“If you don’t, Charlotte will be in a hell of a lot more danger. Do you think the cocaine is a coincidence? Do you think there’s no link between that and the drug trafficking business the mayor runs?”
I did not believe in coincidences. I cursed and really wished I could punch something, hard enough to tear it to pieces.
Anger morphed into fear. My hands started to tremble, and my heart beat madly as if it wanted to come out of my chest. The dread from the previous day returned with an intensity that almost knocked me to my knees. I could have lost Charlotte. Permanently. Like I had lost everything else I cared about in my life.
“Look at it this way,” Hudson continued shrewdly. “You help me put the mayor in prison, you help Charlotte stay safe.”
“How can that even be possible?” I groaned and remembered my mother’s story. She hadn’t been kept safe. She had been collateral damage.
“We have resources.”
“Then use those damn resources to get her off Jack Stewart’s case.”
Hudson sighed again and shook his head like he was talking to a child who refused to see reason.
“Ms. Burton is entirely too involved in Stewart’s affairs to walk out unharmed. If you want her safe, she needs to be off Mitch Stewart’s radar, and that can only happen when he is behind bars. Do you know he has threatened her in the middle
of the day? You think staying away will make her safe, but it won’t.”
“It will be a start,” I seethed.
With his hands grasping his lean hips, his back rigid, and his eyes shooting arrows, Hudson studied me and assessed the situation. For some reason, he needed me as much as I needed him.
We are a match made in heaven, I thought bitterly and almost laughed.
“Very well,” he consented. “I’ll see what I can do. But, Marcus, the favors are piling up, and you have done nothing to earn them just yet. The next time we see each other, I expect a much different answer.”
Chapter 33
Charlotte
Did you kill Jennifer Gunnar and Rheya Larsson, then try to do the same with Charlotte Burton to keep her from finding the truth?” Agent Richard Coulter asked and slammed his fist against the metal tabletop.
Jase Parker jumped in his seat and gave the agent a glassy-eyed look then resumed his hunched posture. It took him a moment before he registered what Agent Coulter had said, then Jase straightened and gaped.
“Rheya is dead?”
“Let’s not play games, Parker.”
The observation room was dark and still, and the darkness seemed to stretch and swallow Jase too. I heard the rumble of a car and turned around startled, but the room was empty and the door closed. Then the air became cold, and Jase’s screams grew louder. When I turned, Jase Parker was staring right through the two-way mirror like there was no barrier between us, like he could see me, like he could reach me.
I gasped and moved backward, but his shouts followed me, and so did the darkness.
“It wasn’t me,” he screamed and neared the glass wall. “I never went to that hotel. I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t me.”
The two-way mirror disappeared like it had never been there, and Jase Parker grabbed me by the wrists and yanked me closer, then my knees gave way, and I was falling down a dark, bottomless hole.
I WOKE UP WITH MY HEART in my throat and my damp camisole clinging to my skin. I touched the mattress and fisted my hands around the sheets, but I still felt like I was falling.
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