Lethal Lies

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Holy hell.

  He shut his eyes just to feel, letting the sound of her gasps fill him. Her muscles vibrated, and he let himself go, pumping hard into her. Electricity danced down his spine to land in his balls, and he exploded. The orgasm took him, every bit of him, and wrenched him quiet. God. He stopped shuddering and all but rested against her, his muscles weak.

  “Amazing,” she murmured, caressing his back and shoulders with a soft touch.

  So soft.

  He couldn’t lose her. She had to survive and live, be happy. He lifted his head, feeling like he could sleep for hours. “Amazing, baby.”

  She stretched, and a small smile played around her slightly swollen mouth. “You’ve ruined me for all other men.”

  He chuckled, but the words slammed into his gut. Anya and another man? Oh, hell to the no. He’d had plenty of women through his life, and he’d never had a problem leaving. Pleasure wasn’t new to him . . . but this was. Only this woman. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, naturally going deep when she accepted him. Her hum of pleasure whipped through him, and his dick started to harden again.

  She broke free, breathing rapidly. Her eyes rounded. “Are you a machine or what?”

  “Nope.” He grinned and nipped her cute nose. “You do that to me.”

  Pleasure spread across her face. “I do, huh?” She wiggled wetness against him, and he hardened completely. “Look at me, all flush with power.”

  “Hmmm.” He pressed her into the bed. “Power, huh? You might want to watch the attitude, or I’ll make you beg.” He was teasing, but interest leaped into her eyes.

  She levered up and sank her teeth into his bottom lip before dropping back down. “I do love a good threat.”

  Oh, she was asking for it. But he gave her a smile instead, determined to be careful with her. She deserved everything sweet in life. Even so, he grasped her hands and flattened them beneath his on the bed. The ring on her finger slid against his, and he caught himself. His ring. Her finger. His woman. “Keep your hands here.”

  She grinned. “I could go another round.”

  So could he. Problem was, he wasn’t sure he could stop at one. Then she rubbed her hard nipples against his chest, and he forgot all about thinking.

  CHAPTER

  28

  Anya dropped a blue file folder into the tallest cabinet, humming softly to herself. “Whoever organized these files for the move might’ve had OCD.”

  Zara laughed from across the wide room. “That would be me. I love organizing.”

  To each her own. Anya grinned at her new friend and surveyed the open floor plan of the fake office. Desks and chairs made up the space, set at different angles through the area. There were no individual offices, but the layout still seemed cozy. Maybe it was because the reception area held plush chairs right next to a television and a sofa.

  If it were a real office, it’d be an awesome place to work.

  Wide windows fronted the quiet, snowy street, and Heath had somehow managed to place her desk out of any line of fire. Apparently he really did think the killer would take a shot. He wouldn’t. The guy had a ritual he had to follow. Anya noted that Zara’s desk was also in a safe zone.

  Zara moved toward a small kitchen area in the back.

  Denver walked into the room from a side entry that led up to the fake apartment, which took up the entire second floor. “Heath is almost finished with the surveillance equipment upstairs, and Ryker is checking all the cameras outside.”

  “Sounds good.” Anya studied this quiet brother of Heath’s. Denver’s eyes were a startling blue that contrasted nicely with his black hair and rugged jaw. He reminded her of a wild wolf she’d seen once on television. His movements were quick and economical as he checked the connections to her computer and made sure the cords were safely out of the way. “Thank you,” she said.

  He looked up. “Sure.” For a minute, he seemed to be considering her. “I, ah, I’m sorry about Carl dying. I know it was bad between you, but you still knew him.”

  She caught her breath as warmth infused her. “Thank you.” Heat climbed into her face, and she tried to unravel some of her emotions. Carl had hurt her, but he hadn’t deserved to die. “I feel badly that he died, and I hope it wasn’t because of me. Because he followed me.” Though it didn’t seem to be the Copper Killer’s M.O., it was still possible.

  Denver shook his head. “Feelings are never one way. It makes sense for you to be sad.” He stood and looked around the room, his gaze seeming to take in everything at once. Apparently satisfied that the room was secure, he focused back on her. “Ah, it’s okay to feel bad that he died.” Almost awkwardly, Denver patted her shoulder, his voice soft.

  She smiled at him while tears pricked the back of her eyes. Being accepted felt as good as being understood.

  He turned to double-check the security measures at the front of the office.

  She watched him and made note of the camera locations. What would it be like to have a family again? To belong to this family? So much support and protection and safety all around.

  She started as Zara stepped up next to her with a cup of tea.

  “It’s blueberry. My favorite.” The woman handed over a fragrant cup.

  Anya accepted it and blinked away tears. “What did you do before, ah, this?” she asked.

  Zara blew on her steaming cup. “I was a paralegal. That’s how Ryker and I met. My law firm hired him for a job, and we took it from there.”

  “Love at first sight?” Anya asked.

  Zara pursed her lips. “Well, definitely lust at first sight. We moved into the love part later.”

  “How did you know?” Anya asked. Could she sound any more like a dork? Maybe Zara would pass her a note in gym class about boys. “Dumb question, right?”

  Zara shook her head, and her dark hair flew out of the clip that had held it. The clip bounced on the desk. “That isn’t a dumb question. I guess I realized it was love—the real kind—when I thought about never seeing him again, and it made me want to throw up.”

  Anya burst out laughing.

  Zara grimaced. “Okay. That doesn’t sound very romantic. Um, what I meant was that the idea of not sharing every day with Ryker made life seem endless and gray. Boring and sad. Lonely.”

  Anya sobered, her heart touched. “Much better. That’s sweet.”

  “It really is,” Ryker said, approaching from the back kitchen area.

  Anya jumped.

  Zara pressed a hand to her chest. “For pete’s sake, Ryker. Would you stop being so quiet when you enter a room?” She shook her head. “I’m going to die of a heart attack. I just know it.”

  Ryker grinned. He wore his customary faded jeans, motorcycle boots, and black leather jacket. As rebels went, he was definitely one. He reached Zara in several strides and drew her in for a hard kiss.

  Anya looked away, her cheeks heating just as Heath prowled into the room from the stairs. He moved with purpose, a hard mask of determination on his face. With a black T-shirt and ripped jeans on, he looked more dangerous than any rebel, especially with the gun casually tucked into his waistband.

  His eyes glittered, and he surveyed the room much like Denver had. “Anya? You understand where you can go and where you cannot?” The command in his tone pricked through her, bringing with it the urge for her to rebel.

  She bit her lip. “Yes.” If they were going to fight again, she didn’t want witnesses. After the amazing night of sex, she thought they were of like minds. But unease still whispered in her. Even though he’d enjoyed himself, had he been holding back? Something told her he had kept his control in check. What would it be like to make him lose that? To be the only woman who could? Every instinct in her sensed that he’d never lost that control in bed before.

  Ryker cleared his throat and nodded at Denver, who was heading toward the kitchen area “I thought we’d all take a moment before opening the doors for business.” He paled a little beneath his normally bronze face.
<
br />   Anya stilled. Was he okay? As she watched, he wiped his brow.

  Zara leaned back. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” Ryker cleared his throat again.

  Anya looked toward Heath. He stood near the door, arms crossed. No expression. What in the world was going on? Was Ryker okay?

  Ryker took several deep breaths. “So, hmmm.” He took Zara’s hand in his. “Here’s the deal. I love you, you love me, and I think we should make it permanent.” He pulled out a ring box and flipped it open. “Figured I’d do this in front of family. I called your granny and got her blessing last week.” His voice trembled just a little, and he dropped gracefully to one knee. “You’re the entire world to me, Zara. I’ll never be worthy of you, but I’ll do my damnedest to be my best. I already asked once, and you said yes, but I wanted to do it right. Marry me?”

  Anya leaned closer to get a look at the ring. Diamonds and sapphires. Beautiful.

  Zara breathed out. “Ryker.” Tears filled her stunning eyes.

  “That’s another yes. The final yes.” Ryker took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. “Good. That’s done.” He stood.

  Zara laughed, love in the sound. She held out her hand. “It’s stunning.”

  “You are.” He leaned in and kissed her, his large body all but dwarfing the woman.

  Denver hustled up with a tray of champagne and glasses. “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he said, handing them out.

  Zara laughed again. “How many proposals are you going to give to me?”

  Ryker paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “Two. That’s it. We’re final.”

  She smiled, happiness cascading from her. “Perfect.”

  He grinned. “Nailed it.” Then he drank down his entire glass and wiped off his forehead.

  Anya snuck a peek at Heath. He held his champagne and took a quick drink, his gaze blazing over the glass and focused on her. The ring on her finger felt like a boulder, and she refused to look. Their engagement wasn’t real, and having just witnessed the real thing, she wanted nothing more than to take off the beautiful jewelry.

  Only the hard look in his eyes stopped her.

  This time.

  Heath shifted the knife against his calf and tried to appear interested as the elderly lady across the reception desk in the decoy office finished describing her lost dog. “We’ll get right on it, ma’am. As soon as you send us a picture of Snuggles.” For Christ’s sake.

  Mrs. Burnaby squinted through thick glasses, her painted pink lips trembling. She clutched her flowered purse to her chest. “Do you need a retainer?”

  Denver snorted somewhere behind Heath.

  Heath forced a smile. “No, ma’am. As a new business, we’re happy to find lost dogs free of charge. Just tell your neighbors and friends about us if any of them require a private detective.” Even though the offices were just a decoy, he’d be out looking for that lost dog as soon as humanly possible.

  Her massive purse buzzed, and she rummaged around to tug out a flip phone. Her arthritic hands shook as she opened it. “Hello?” she yelled into it.

  Heath fought a wince.

  “Gerty? Really? Oh my. Thank you.” She hung up and dropped the ancient phone into her purse. “I’m so sorry.”

  Heath stood and came around the desk to help her from the seat. Relief loosened the knot of tension in his gut. “I take it Gerty found Snuggles?”

  “Oh my, yes.” Her tiny arm felt like a twig in his hand. “Snuggles went visiting, I guess.” She tittered and smiled up at him. “You are quite a handsome young man.”

  “Thank you.” Heath helped the lady outside and across the sidewalk to a battered Buick. He’d seen her drive up. Making sure she didn’t slip on the ice, he got her safely ensconced in the vehicle. “Drive carefully.”

  “Thank you, good lookin’,” she said, flashing new-looking dentures. “I’ll be back if I need help.”

  “Excellent.” He shut the car door and stood on the sidewalk to watch her drive away through the snow. Keeping his smile in place, he looked around. A bar sat next to a recreational outfitting store across the street, and both were lightly busy this afternoon.

  His nape prickled, and he looked around again. Nothing. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was watching him. Tuning in with his odd senses, he still couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. With another hard look around, he turned on his boot and reentered the agency. “Something is off,” he said quietly.

  Denver looked up from his computer. “What?”

  “Dunno.” Everything in him wanted to force Anya to safety. “Just a feeling.”

  Denver stood and stretched his back. “I’ll go for a quick walk and see if I sense anything.” Drawing his coat from the chair, he loped for the front door. “Ryker and Zara went upstairs to review surveillance tapes from the area around where Carl was murdered. Don’t ask how we got our hands on those.”

  “No problem. Watch your back, Denver.” Heath eyed Anya, who sat at her desk finecombing through her entire life again, trying to find any connection to the serial killer.

  Her dedication was absolute. Every time he learned something new about her, she became even more intriguing. She glanced up. “I think we did a good job with the reporter earlier.”

  Heath nodded. A local reporter had shown up to interview them about the new business, and Anya had discussed the loss of her sister and their determination to bring the killer to justice. “You said everything you could to challenge the Copper Killer to make him come after you—especially that you’re going out of town in two days.”

  “Yep.” She met his gaze evenly. “The reporter said the article will hit the local business page tomorrow. Should be online late tonight—we’ve given the killer a short window to make a move.”

  “Are you ready for when he comes?” Heath asked.

  “No. There’s no way to get ready for a nutjob.” She pulled her shoulders back. “But with the security around here and your weapons, I think if he makes a move here, we’ll get him. Loretta’s mistake was working alone, and I’m not making that error.”

  That was true. In addition, Anya had obeyed every direction he’d given. “No plan is a hundred percent sure.” He’d scare the hell out of her if it’d get her to go somewhere safe, but he knew better. Her motivation was pure, and her need to avenge the sister she’d loved was understandable. He’d go out of his freakin’ mind if anything happened to Denver or Ryker. Or the Gray brothers, for that matter. Even though he’d already yelled at Shane earlier for getting Detective Malloy involved, he’d do anything to protect the brothers he’d just found. He tugged a Lady Smith & Wesson 9 millimeter from the reception desk and crossed the room to hand it to her. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

  She took the silver gun. “I’ve never shot one, but I can handle them. I like how this one fits my hand.”

  “Yeah. It’s designed for a smaller hand.” He pointed out the safety. “Keep the safety on, but remember to flip it off when you want to shoot. The clip is filled with hollow-point bullets, and there’s one in the chamber right now. If you point the gun, you shoot. Don’t play chicken, and don’t point unless you fully intend to shoot.” They had to get out and have some target practice somehow.

  “Okay.” She gingerly hefted the gun. “It’s heavier than it looks.” Swallowing, her face pale, she set the gun in a drawer in her desk.

  The woman shouldn’t have to worry about the weight of a gun. Heath shook his head.

  “I know, it’s scary,” she countered before he could say anything. “He’s upping his moves every day, and the next one has to be an attempt.”

  “I know,” Heath said softly. “We have the doors rigged so we can lock him in the second he makes a move. The obvious move will be in two nights at the hospital charity Christmas party, even though that’s after the window I’d like to have left town.” They’d received an invitation as a new business in town. He’d already started going ov
er the schematics for the hotel where it would be held.

  “We’re probably safe until then?”

  “No. Taking you at a gala or party is an obvious move. Going for you here in the office or in the upstairs decoy apartments is less obvious. He might make a move at any point.” His gut ached. “We’re covered here, but still.” She’d be in the thick of danger again at that party.

  She twirled the ring around on her finger. “I should give this back. There’s no need for it now.”

  He liked the ring on her finger. “Keep in character, Anya. The ring stays on.”

  Her brows drew down, and her stubborn chin firmed. “You think he’s watching.”

  “Yeah. Keep the ring on. I feel like we’re being watched, and if you want to appear engaged, you have to keep it on. In fact . . .” He reached for her and picked her up, planting his mouth on hers.

  She struggled for about two seconds and then kissed him back, shoving her tongue into his mouth and her hands through his hair. He growled and went deeper, bending her back over the desk.

  “Whoa,” Denver said, jerking Heath out of the kiss.

  Heath turned, his chest rioting.

  Denver held up his hands. “Sorry. I, ah . . .”

  Heath scrubbed a hand through his hair. “No worries. Was just kissing my fiancée.” Giving her a look to behave tinged with wiggling his eyebrows to make her smile, he maneuvered back to the front door. “Did you see anything?”

  “No.” Denver rubbed his neck. “But I’m with you. Somebody is watching, somehow, and I couldn’t hear a thing. No heartbeat, nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Ditto,” Heath said. “What does that mean?”

  Denver shrugged. “Not sure, but I can tell you that something or someone is definitely coming for us.”

  Yeah, but that was nothing new. Heath straightened his shoulders and again surveyed the icy street outside. The question was . . . who would get there first? The Copper Killer or Dr. Madison and Sheriff Cobb?

  CHAPTER

  29