Confessions
Page 3
“Don’t!” she yelled. She grabbed his hand. “Please...please, let’s just go.”
Grant sucked in a deep breath. Holy hell, he never lost control like that.
And Justin...he was grinning. The guy had wanted Grant to attack him. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as he appeared.
Grant locked his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders. He pulled her up against him. “Get out of our way.”
Justin backed off. His eyes were on Scarlett, though, and Grant stiffened at the emotions he saw in the man’s eyes. Fury. Hate. So much hate.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” Scarlett murmured. “But I didn’t do this. I didn’t!”
Two guards were watching them, suspicion heavy on their faces.
Scarlett’s lawyer was in the hallway, too. Pierce Jennings nervously cleared his throat. “Time to get her out of here,” he said to Grant.
It was past time for that. Grant guided Scarlett down the hallway, making sure to keep his hold tight around her. They went out the back exit, just in case any particularly dogged reporters had wanted to try and catch them by surprise.
But no one was out there. Grant opened the passenger-side door of his SUV, and Scarlett slid inside. He hurried around the vehicle.
A glance back showed that Justin had followed them out. The guy stood at the curb, watching them. No, watching Scarlett.
Grant jumped in the car and slammed his door.
“Were you involved with him?” He’d already started digging into Scarlett’s life—and so had his brothers. They would soon know every secret that she possessed. But Grant didn’t want to wait for this information. He needed to know right then.
“I was engaged to Eric, you know that—”
“Not Eric. Justin.”
“What? No, of course not.”
Grant shot out of the parking lot. Left Justin in the dust.
The scent of vanilla drifted to him. Vanilla...still?
“You...you didn’t have to pay my bail.”
The SUV cut quickly through the streets. A light rain had fallen, and the black pavement gleamed in the growing night.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I will find a way to repay you.”
“We already covered that.”
He could feel her eyes on him, but Grant kept staring at the road. He wanted to get her back to his place. To have her safe. Then...then they’d clear the air.
When did you start to carry so many secrets, Scarlett?
“My brothers are already investigating. This case won’t ever go to trial,” he said. He just needed to find evidence vindicating her. He would find it. Then he’d turn the material over to her lawyer and the DA. They’d get the charges dropped.
“You believe I’m innocent.”
She sounded surprised by that.
“You don’t even have proof yet—and you believe me?”
“You said you were innocent.” He braked at a traffic light, finally looked at her. Damn it, she was so beautiful that she made him ache. He’d never been able to forget her. No matter where he went. Or what he did. He cleared his throat. “You never lied to me.”
She glanced away from him, staring out the window. “People can change a lot in ten years.”
His head cocked as he studied her. “There’s one thing I know...”
Scarlett glanced back at him.
“I know killers.” He’d seen plenty during his time—during missions that could never be discussed or forgotten. “And I know that you aren’t a killer.” Knowing and proving, well, those were two very different things.
But I will prove her innocence.
The light changed to green. The vehicle surged forward.
“Where are we going?” Scarlett asked. “My condo is on the other side of town—”
“I know where your condo is.” He’d already been there. Already searched through the place. “We’re going to my house.”
“Your...house?”
He accelerated as they headed toward the outskirts of Austin. He didn’t live on his family’s ranch, not anymore, but two of his brothers did. “Don’t worry we’ll have plenty of privacy.”
“I wasn’t worried about privacy.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
Silence.
His jaw locked. “You better get used to the idea of being with me, Scarlett. Because I just put up half a million dollars for your freedom, and until this case is over, you and I will be staying very close to one another.”
As close as he could get.
But that wasn’t just because of the money.
It was because of...her.
What happens when you realize you made the worst mistake of your life when you were a clueless, twenty-two-year-old kid?
Answer—you do anything, you do everything, to correct that mistake.
* * *
SCARLETT STONE WASN’T in jail any longer. She’d escaped so quickly—with that jerk Grant McGuire at her side.
The McGuires...they’d always thought they were so special. So much better than everyone else.
Wild and reckless as kids, now they thought they were the law in the area?
Hell, no.
Grant wasn’t getting another chance with Scarlett. Their past was over. Finished.
Just as Grant would be...
One lover in the grave...and another will be joining him.
Scarlett wasn’t going to get a happily-ever-after ending.
She would only have grief and pain.
* * *
SHE WAS IN his house. Grant’s house. The place was massive, hidden far from the lights of Austin. No, this wasn’t his father’s old ranch, but if you headed to the east and kept leaving those bright lights, you’d hit the place.
Too many memories.
The memories were what had kept her away from Austin for so long, and then, eventually, the memories had brought her back.
But Eric thought I came here for him. He got his job transfer, and wanted me to move here with him.
She’d come back to Austin, and the first day after she’d arrived, she’d seen Grant.
He hadn’t seen her.
Once, he was the only one who ever seemed to see the real me. Then he’d left.
They were in his den. He was at the bar, pouring a drink. He was going to ask her questions now, and she couldn’t lie to him. Not with her life on the line.
“Want a drink?” Grant asked.
“No, thank you.”
He laughed as he turned toward her. “Now, Scarlett, aren’t we far past the polite stage?”
Her brows climbed. “What stage are we at?” She had no clue.
He brought her a drink. She didn’t even know what was in that glass. “The stage where you should trust me,” he told her.
She took the glass from him.
“You probably need that,” he said, eyes assessing, “after what you’ve been through.”
The past two months had been hell.
Finding Eric’s body...the suspicions...then, so recently, the arrest. The cell. I do need this.
She drained the contents in a few quick gulps. But the liquid burned and she gasped as tears stung her eyes.
Grant’s faint laughter came once more, rolling over her. “I don’t think you were made to chug whiskey.”
He took her glass and patted her on the back.
She stopped choking.
He didn’t stop touching her. She was far too conscious of his touch. The heat from his hand seemed to penetrate right through her clothing.
“I think you were made for other things,” he murmured.
Her gaze was caught and held by his. Grant stood so close that his mouth
was just inches away. It might be wrong, but she’d never forgotten his kiss.
He’d been the first boy to kiss her. The first to touch her...
The first to break her heart.
Scarlett stepped away from him. “What do you need to know?”
He blinked at her. Then a mask seemed to slide over his face. He lifted his glass and drained his whiskey, but didn’t have the choking, gasping issue that she’d had. Of course not.
Scarlett huffed out a breath and paced around the den. There weren’t many personal touches in that place. A TV. Two couches. She headed toward the mantel. One framed photograph rested there—a shot of Grant, his siblings and his parents.
They’d been good to me. Grant’s parents had been so kind to her after Grant left. After she’d gone to them, they’d wanted to help her...
“I’m sorry about your parents.” She said this without looking back at him. “I...came to the funeral, but I didn’t want to bother you, so I just—”
“Stayed in the back, behind the oak trees.”
She turned toward him in surprise.
“I saw you,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “You’re a hard woman to miss.”
He’d been so stoic at that graveside. He’d stood apart from his siblings. She’d wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him and try to comfort him. As a friend.
But...they didn’t even have friendship between them, not anymore.
“It’s because of your parents, isn’t it?” Scarlett murmured as she rubbed at the tension that had knotted the base of her neck. “Their death brought you back.”
Back from his missions. From the life that she didn’t know anything about.
But...
He carried a scar now. Small, thin, white, the wound marked the skin under the curve of his jaw. But he was damaged by more than just that scar. When she gazed in his eyes, she could see the new shadows that he carried. The new secrets.
“Ava was seventeen when they died,” he said, voice low. “She needed us. She...took their death hard.”
Ava was his baby sister. A surprise that had come to their family. “She was there, wasn’t she?” That was the story Scarlett had read. Ava had been at the ranch house when intruders came in and shot her parents. She’d been there, but she’d escaped.
“She was there.” Grant’s voice was grim. “And she still blames herself. She thinks that she could have saved them.” He raked a hand through his hair. “If she’d tried, she would have died, too.”
Scarlett found herself creeping toward him. Then, because she couldn’t stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him. He was stiff and still in her embrace. “I’m sorry. They were good people.”
He didn’t hug her back, and she began to feel foolish. Hugging him had been an impulse, and obviously, the wrong one to follow. She started to retreat.
Then his arms rose. He curled them around her and held her tightly against him.
And it was like coming home. Being in his arms felt right—when it was wrong. All wrong. The past was over. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago.
“You still smell like vanilla.”
His voice was a growl. His body was so warm and hard.
“Every time I smell vanilla, I think of you.” His voice was a rumble that seemed to vibrate right through her whole body.
She tried to pull away then. Nothing good would come from getting in too deep with Grant. She had to protect herself. She was already in enough trouble as it was.
But he wasn’t letting her go.
Her head tilted back. She stared up at him.
“No other woman has eyes like you do.” His voice was still that low, sensual rumble. “So dark and deep. And every time those eyes lock on me, I wonder...how deep does she see into me?”
“Grant...”
His gaze fell to her mouth. “I always liked the way you said my name.”
His head was lowering toward hers. Despite everything, Scarlett wanted him to kiss her, because it had been far too long since she’d felt his lips against her own.
But she was terrified. He couldn’t kiss her. She wouldn’t, couldn’t repeat the same mistakes from her past. And getting personally involved with Grant McGuire would be a huge mistake.
Because Grant couldn’t love her. He never had, and he never would.
“Let me go,” she whispered, even though just an inch separated their mouths.
“What if I don’t want to?” He surrounded her. “Don’t you want to see if it’s as good between us now...as it was then? Because I do.”
It would be as good. Their chemistry had always been electric. Her body yearned for him.
Mistake. Mistake. She’d been charged with murdering her ex-fiancé. She’d barely been released on bail. She couldn’t do this.
“Let me go,” Scarlett said again.
Surprisingly, he did.
She backed away from him, a few quick, desperate steps. Scarlett sucked in fast gulps of air.
Grant watched her. “You still want me.”
Desire faded with time. It had to fade. Ten years should have killed it, but...
It didn’t.
“And, just so we’re clear,” Grant continued, as his pupils expanded to swallow the green of his gaze, “I can’t look at you without wanting you naked and in my bed.”
She lost the breath she’d taken.
“Just so we’re clear,” he murmured again.
They were more than clear. Her heart was racing. Her body aching. “We...can’t.”
“I think we can.” His head tilted as he studied her. His gaze, burning with desire, swept over her. “I think we will.”
She could only shake her head. “Don’t you wonder? I mean, even a little bit...”
He waited.
“How can you be so sure I’m not dangerous? That I’m not a threat to you?”
He started stalking toward her. Instinctively, Scarlett backed up. She retreated until her shoulders hit the bricks that lined his fireplace.
“Baby, do I look like I’m afraid?”
He’d never looked afraid—of anything or anyone. But he was also very, very different from the boy she’d known. “What happened to you?” Scarlett asked him softly.
“War. Death.” His voice was grim. “So trust me when I say that I can handle any threat that comes my way.”
She swallowed. She felt trapped, more caged than she had when she’d been back in her prison cell.
And he wasn’t even touching her.
“Grant...I need us to keep the past—”
His eyelids flickered.
“In the past,” she finished softly. “Too much is on the line. I have to find out who killed Eric. Why he was killed.”
Grant’s jaw hardened. “I will find out. I’ll clear you.”
And then she’d owe him. That knowledge was there, pushing between them.
He sighed softly then took a step back. “I need to know about your fiancé’s enemies.”
He wasn’t my fiancé. Not at the end.
“Eric...he was a tax attorney. He got along great with his clients.” She rubbed her chilled arms. “He didn’t have enemies.” He’d been a likable guy. Making friends everywhere he went. Pierce Jennings is my lawyer because he knew Eric, too. We’d met at a party. Everyone loved Eric.
Everyone...but her. No matter how hard she’d tried to love him.
Grant shook his head. “We all have enemies.” He paced away from her. “And the nature of his death... Knife attacks are more personal. Intimate. There were no signs of a break-in at his place, so the guy might have even let his attacker inside. It was someone he trusted. Someone—”
“Like me.” That was certainly what the cops thought.
>
Grant stopped pacing and faced her fully. “You know my brothers and I will have to uncover every secret that you have.”
She was well aware of that. She also hated for him to dig too deeply into her past.
“So if there’s something you need to tell me, then do it now.”
Scarlett licked her lips. “There’s nothing that relates to this case.”
“Scarlett...”
“Nothing that relates.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t know anyone who would want to hurt Eric. He was a nice guy. A good person.”
She should have been able to love him.
“I never even saw him get angry. Not until that last night.” When she’d told him that she couldn’t marry him. All this time...you’ve made me wait. You kept me dangling on a damn string—and you think I’m just going to let you go now?
She hated those memories. The last time she’d seen Eric...it had been so rough for them both. “I hurt him,” she whispered.
Grant’s eyes narrowed.
“He only wanted to love me, to make me happy.” She pushed back her hair. “I moved back to Austin when he got his job transfer, and he thought we were going to get married. Going to...have kids.”
Grant’s eyes were tight slits.
“He waited for me. Kept letting me push back the wedding date. He was a good man,” she said again. “And he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve anything that happened.”
She didn’t just want to prove her own innocence. “I want to find the man who did this to him. I want to give Eric justice.” It was the only thing she could give him. “The same way you’re hunting for your parents’ killer. I want justice, too.”
He gave her a smile. Cold, slightly cruel. I don’t know him any longer. Because that was a stranger staring back at her. “Who says I want justice? I’m looking for vengeance, and one day, I’ll have it.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms and she trembled.
Grant glanced away from her. His eyes slid toward the darkened hallway. “You’re exhausted. Take the first room on the right. We can talk in the morning.”
She wanted to run to that room and escape. She hadn’t been able to sleep at all in her cell. Every sound had terrified her.
He was between her and the hallway. Scarlett squared her shoulders and headed toward him.