Confessions

by Cynthia Eden

  “I never ask any of my clients that. I can’t, and I don’t want to know.” His eyes had returned to Grant once more. “My job is to represent my clients, not to judge them.” He cleared his throat. “But you’re different. One look in your eyes, and I knew.” He slid her his card.

  “I already have—”

  “My personal number is on the back. If you should feel frightened, or if you think that being in Grant McGuire’s company isn’t the safest bet, call me.” His fingers curled around hers. “You got away once. What if you don’t again?”

  The card was crisp in her grasp. There was worry in Pierce’s eyes.

  “Scarlett?”

  She turned at Grant’s call. Her lawyer let her go.

  As she hurried toward Grant, Scarlett tucked the card into her pocket. He wasn’t a threat to her. Pierce was wrong. He didn’t know Grant like she did.

  Grant was a man she could trust. She’d always known that.

  She slid into the SUV.

  Grant shut the door behind her.

  * * *

  PIERCE WATCHED SCARLETT drive away. She’d thought he was wrong to worry. She trusted Grant McGuire far too much.

  Pierce trusted no one. After all he’d seen and done in his business, no, you couldn’t trust anyone.

  The SUV’s taillights disappeared.

  He turned and made his way back into the police station. As usual, the place was buzzing with activity. Always was. Crime never stopped.

  That’s why my business is booming.

  But some days, he sure hated his business.

  Detective Shayne Townsend was hunched over his desk. Pierce approached him and tapped him lightly on his shoulder. “A moment of your time, Detective.”

  Shayne frowned at him. “You just had more than a few moments. Your client is gone now.”

  “Um, she is. But it’s not Scarlett that I want to discuss.”

  He saw the detective’s flash of surprise.

  “It’s Grant McGuire.”

  Chapter Seven

  “The ranch?” Surprise raised Scarlett’s voice as they pulled toward the long, winding drive that would take them to the McGuire ranch. “What are we doing here?”

  She’d fallen asleep shortly after they’d left the police station. After the hell of her previous night, Grant had known that Scarlett needed her rest. So he’d driven...and he’d found himself going not to his house, but to the family ranch.

  He didn’t go there often. Too many memories were in that place. Some good. Some bad. Some so painful he could never forget them.

  I lost my parents here.

  And he’d also lost Scarlett there. Back on the little bluff that overlooked the lake.

  “You need to be able to relax for a bit. Not worry about reporters dodging your steps.” He inclined his head toward the ranch. “No one will bother you here.”

  And the security at the ranch was top-notch. After their parents’ murder, he and his brothers had made sure that the place was as secure as Fort Knox.

  At first, the family had thought about selling the ranch. But Davis and Brodie had raged against that. The twins had been determined to keep the ranch, and they’d fought tooth and nail to get what they wanted.

  The SUV drove slowly along that winding path.

  “I don’t come here much,” he confessed. Because remembering the good times hurt. Thinking about what he’d lost.

  Scarlett’s fingertips brushed over his arm.

  I lost too much.

  He braked the SUV near the main house and turned to look at her. Her worried stare was on the entrance. She was biting her lip.

  His hand lifted and he tapped that lip.

  Her breath rushed out, tickling over his skin, and he let his finger linger against her mouth.

  If she only knew the things I want to do to her.

  He slowly lowered his hand. “You can go inside and sleep, if you want. No one will bother you.” He’d make sure of it. “Or you can ride. I’ll saddle up a horse for you.” He gave her a weak smile.

  She shook her head. “I’ve never been very good at horseback riding. Not like you.”

  He thought she’d been pretty damn good. When she’d ridden across the land with her hair streaming behind her, she’d always taken his breath away.

  “I think I’ll just go for a walk,” Scarlett said. She turned from him and opened the door.

  And Grant followed suit.

  He wasn’t particularly surprised to see the twins stride onto the porch. Brodie appeared first. Tall, fit, with hair that he kept cropped a little too short, Brodie grinned when he saw Grant. The grin flashed his dimples.

  “It’s about time you came out here, brother,” Brodie said.

  The porch creaked as Davis appeared behind his twin. The two were identical, except Davis had longer hair, and his dimples never flashed.

  Davis had a rule about smiling.

  He’d rather glare at the world.

  Both had been Navy SEALs, and both were absolutely lethal in combat.

  “Though I didn’t expect to be seeing you with such lovely company,” Brodie added as he turned his killer smile toward Scarlett.

  Brodie had never met a woman that he thought he couldn’t charm. He didn’t seem to be happy unless he was hooking up with a new lady, though his hookups rarely lasted long.

  One month was currently his time limit.

  “Hello, Brodie.” Scarlett’s voice was soft. “Davis. It’s been a while.”

  Brodie hopped off the porch step and hugged her. “Too long.”

  The twins had always liked Scarlett. Well, Brodie had, anyway. As for Davis...

  Davis took his time climbing off the steps. He caught Brodie’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Give the woman some breathing space,” he ordered.

  But then he brought Scarlett in for a big bear hug.

  “You don’t have to be scared,” Grant heard Davis tell her. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Davis always thought I was a fool for leaving Scarlett behind.

  Davis had an annoying habit about being right, about nearly everything.

  Scarlett squeezed him back, then eased away. Her gaze flickered toward the ranch house. Sadness shadowed her face, but the emotion quickly vanished.

  Grant understood. He felt the same sadness. His parents had been murdered inside the house. He didn’t understand how Davis and Brodie could want to stick around that place.

  He cleared his throat. “Scarlett wanted to take a walk.”

  Brodie’s brows climbed. “Still can’t ride a horse, huh, Scarlett?” Then he slapped Davis’s arm. “That’s okay. Neither can he.”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You still give your brother a hard time?”

  “Only every minute.”

  And it was true. Brodie loved to rib his twin. Davis never mocked him back. He just sighed.

  A lot.

  “Are you two...you’re both doing well?” Scarlett asked carefully.

  “We’re working on your case,” Davis told her. “We’ll be doing better when we find the killer out there.”

  And they would find him.

  “I’ll be doing better then, too.” Scarlett sent them a quick smile, then turned and started making her way toward the bluff.

  Grant watched her go.

  Silence fell on the group. Then, as soon as Scarlett was out of earshot, Davis said softly, “She looks more delicate than I remember.”

  “Fear can do that.” The humor was gone from Brodie’s face, and when Grant glanced at him, there was no sign of his dimples. “It can break you.”

  “She’s strong.” Grant’s eyes returned to her slender figure. “She’s a survivor.”
>
  “Does she know?” Brodie asked, his voice curious.

  “Know what?” Grant’s eyes were still on her. Was she really heading to their old spot? He went there whenever he could force himself to come out to the ranch.

  He’d gone to the ranch today only because he thought it was the one place reporters wouldn’t attack. They couldn’t attack it. Not with the giant gate in the front and all their enhanced security around the exterior.

  “Know that you love her, of course.” Brodie spoke as if that were obvious. “I mean, you’re staring after her like some kind of mooning teenager.”

  Grant’s gaze snapped toward him. Younger brothers were such a pain in the—

  “I read in the paper,” Davis said, speaking before Grant could do more than growl at Brodie, “about the baby. Was that true or just some tabloid gossip to sell more issues?”

  Grant shifted his stare back toward the bluff. He couldn’t see Scarlett. “It was true.”

  Davis exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

  So was he. Sorrier than he could say. Things will be different this time. They had to be. He cleared his throat. “What have you found out on Eric Turner?”

  “We finished going through his financials. Nothing too unusual.” Now Davis was striding closer to Grant. “Other than the fact that he gave his younger brother twenty grand every month.”

  Grant’s eyes widened and he gave a low whistle. “Twenty grand?”

  “Like clockwork. The first of the month came around and, bam, a check was sent.”

  “Why?” Grant rounded on his brother. He’d thought Justin Turner had a steady job—

  “Because the guy was demoted at his law firm about six months ago. Seems he had a drinking problem, and his big brother was trying to help him out.” Davis ran a hand over his chin. “But one of Justin’s coworkers overheard them fighting a few weeks back. Eric was telling him that the cash wouldn’t keep coming.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t respond well to that.” Just how angry had Justin been? “Now that Eric’s dead, what happens to his estate?”

  It was Brodie who answered. “Their parents are dead. Both passed from natural causes a few years back. And since he and Scarlett didn’t marry, his estate will revert to Justin.”

  “No more cash problems,” Davis murmured.

  No. And Grant knew that plenty of people would kill—and had killed—for money. “We need eyes on him.”

  “Sullivan is already taking care of that.”

  Grant nodded.

  “And Mac is on his way to track down Ian Lake.”

  Mac...that would be their brother Mackenzie. Just hearing Ian’s name had caused Grant to clench his fists.

  “Got some conflicting reports on the guy, so Mac wanted to do some hands-on reconnaissance.”

  That news put Grant on edge. “What conflicting reports?”

  “Seems the guy might be dead... Hard to say for sure because despite a death certificate, the guy’s credit cards were used just two months ago.”

  Hell. The case kept getting more tangled. Grant found himself peering over at the bluff once more, looking for Scarlett.

  Brodie sighed. “Again? You can’t seem to keep your eyes off her.”

  He ignored that because he’d just caught sight of Scarlett. Her hair was blowing in the light breeze.

  “He’s got it bad again,” Davis announced. “Maybe one of us should take over guard duty, Grant. Let you get a little...distance here.”

  “No.” It was an immediate denial.

  “And why’s that?” Davis asked, sounding a bit insulted. “I think Brodie and I are more than up to the task of guarding Scarlett.”

  Sure they were, but... “She feels comfortable with me. You two guys would just put her on edge.”

  Total lie.

  “Well, we also wouldn’t try to get her in bed.” Brodie’s voice was mild. Amused. “But something tells me that’s high on your to-do list.”

  Grant glared at him.

  “Take some advice...” Brodie offered.

  Was he serious? Romance advice? From Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em? Grant shook his head. This had to be good. Or bad. Very, very bad.

  “Maybe this time you should actually let the woman know how you feel instead of, you know, pulling a Grant and going radio silent on her.”

  Pulling a Grant?

  His eyes narrowed to near slits. “Thanks, Brodie. I’ll be sure to remember that helpful tip.” He rolled back his shoulders. He knew that Scarlett wanted her space, and she should be safe out there, walking along the bluff.

  But he wanted to be with her. He even took a step that way, then stopped.

  He wasn’t going to cage Scarlett. He wanted to protect her, not trap her.

  Exhaling slowly, he turned away and faced the ranch house. He hated this place, hated that house that always made him see blood and lost happiness. The bodies had been gone by the time he’d made it back to the US, but blood had stained the floor. And after all his battles, it had been too easy to image the sight of the dead in there. “We should have sold this place,” he said.

  Ava hadn’t been back to the house, not since that night.

  He didn’t blame her.

  “This land has been in our family for almost one hundred years.” Davis’s voice was low. “It will see joy again.” He had been the one who’d fought the hardest to keep the place.

  And Brodie... Well, when his twin wanted something badly enough, Brodie would always back him.

  “Fine,” Grant growled. That was pretty much the way he’d given in before, when they’d all sat in the lawyer’s office, faces grim, as they’d tried to decide what in the hell to do next.

  “But I think it’s time to tear this house down. Keep the land, but build something new.” Something that didn’t remind them all too much of their past.

  And of the nightmare that still hadn’t ended.

  Why were they being targeted? Who did it?

  No evidence, not so much as a fingerprint, had been left behind. No motive. No suspects.

  But we will find you...we will.

  He didn’t follow Scarlett onto the bluff and he didn’t head into the house that still made his heart ache. Instead, he turned and marched toward the stables. He was in the mood for a ride. Wild and hard. Maybe if he rode fast enough, he’d even be able to escape from the ghosts of his past.

  * * *

  SCARLETT DIDN’T KNOW how long she stood on the bluff. The breeze was light against her face, easing the heat of the Texas sun.

  She remembered coming there so often when she’d been a teen. She’d sneak onto the land to watch Grant. He’d worked so much with the horses. Whenever he’d come back from his tours of duty, he’d always ridden first thing. Ridden so fast that he’d almost scared her.

  It had seemed as if he were running from demons.

  She wondered...had any of those demons ever caught up to him?

  She headed back toward the ranch house when the sun started to dip in the sky. She’d hidden long enough. Gotten control of herself and was now ready to face the world again. She had just caught sight of the house when she heard the pounding of a horse’s hooves. Glancing to the right, she saw a big black horse racing toward the stable. Dirt flew up in its wake. And, his body angled low on that horse, a wide devil-may-care grin on his lips, Grant held tight to the animal.

  Scarlett stopped walking. The past and present merged for her as she stared at Grant. When she’d seen him ride before, she’d always thought he looked so powerful. So strong.

  Unstoppable.

  She’d viewed him as perfect once. Too perfect. That image had shattered, and now she saw him for what he was.

  Dangerous. Deadly.

  Not some childhood hero. Not
the white knight.

  Something more.

  He reined in the horse. She still hadn’t moved.

  He jumped off, and his hands ran over the animal’s coat as he talked softly, soothingly. She kept watching as Grant cooled down his mount and took it inside.

  Scarlett shivered a bit as she stood there. Grant had disappeared into the stables, and she could see the lights shining from inside. She took a few steps in that direction, and Grant appeared again. He saw her, and this time he was the one who froze.

  There was sweat on his face. He had old gloves on his hands. His T-shirt molded around his rippled muscles and his jeans were covered with a layer of dust. He had been riding hell-bent, she knew. She shouldn’t have found him sexy. Not when he looked so rough and wicked, but maybe that was why he looked so seductive right then.

  There was nothing controlled about Grant in that moment.

  She liked it.

  Scarlett was tired of control. Tired of watching her every word and her every step.

  He pulled off his gloves, put them on the top of a fence post and headed toward her with slow steps. His gaze raked over her. “You all right?”

  She wanted him to stop doing that. To stop looking at her as if she was a victim. There was more to her than just the mess that was happening to her life right then.

  She’d been on that bluff, and instead of thinking about the man after her, Scarlett’s mind had kept wandering back to Grant. Remembering him.

  Remembering the first time they’d been together. She’d been so nervous. So excited.

  He’d been patient. Tender.

  Even though she’d felt the fierce tension in his muscles, she’d known he was fighting desperately to hold on to his control. For her.

  “Scarlett?” Worry flickered over his face.

  Her hand lifted toward him. “Will you walk with me?”

  He didn’t take it. “Let me shower. I’m a mess. I should—”

  “Walk with me,” she said again, because she just wanted to be with him then.

  His brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out, but he took her hand.

  They headed back toward the bluff. Lights shone from within the ranch house, but she noticed Grant never looked that way.