He tilted her face, his eyes boring into hers. “Then why did you come?”
Her pulse was racing so fast he probably felt it pounding beneath his thumb. But she’d never been one for games and besides, Justin always knew when she was avoiding the truth.
“I wanted to see you,” she said simply. And so that there was no doubt, she added, “To be with you.”
His eyes remained locked on hers even as he pried the wine glass from her fingers. His other hand still cupped her face, his gaze so intent she shivered with anticipation. He must have felt her reaction because his eyes darkened. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “Go to the kitchen, Gunner,” he said.
Gunner rose, his nails clicking over the hardwood floor. He thumped down in the kitchen, his sigh loud and resigned, as if he understood what was about to transpire on the sofa. And that he wasn’t totally enthused. Clearly he’d been banished before.
“He knows the drill,” she said. But she didn’t want to think about Justin’s other women. Not now. Because his mouth had lowered over hers, his kiss even hungrier than it had been last week. But this time his hand slipped beneath her shirt, and the way he handled her breasts left her melting.
Or maybe it was his other hand, the one that was stroking the inside of her thighs that was turning her buttery soft with want. Her skyrocketing desire surprised her and she fumbled at his belt. And then he was helping her, sliding off both their pants and tossing them aside.
Moments later she was naked on the couch, his big body posed over her. She had the fleeting thought that he’d mastered both speed and efficiency, no doubt because he never knew when he’d be called in. Obviously he’d trained Gunner to vacate the room. But that was okay. It meant he knew his way around a woman’s body and tonight she’d be the beneficiary of all that experience.
She closed her eyes, pushing away thoughts of anyone but Justin. Condom foil crinkled but not much else was happening. She gave an impatient wiggle and opened her eyes.
He was staring at her face, unmoving. “You’re wrong,” he whispered.
“Wrong about what?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer, trying to hurry him up. She could feel his hardness, could tell his urgency matched hers. But he remained still, his mouth frustratingly far away.
“I know what you think Gunner is telling you,” he said. “But this isn’t my usual drill. You need to know that.”
“Let’s talk about your drill afterwards,” she said.
Smiling, he let her pull him to her. But she heard his words even as he filled her with that first hard thrust.
“I always make it to the bedroom,” he said, his mouth against her neck. “Just not with you, Nik. Only you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Nikki woke to the sound of running water. She reached across the bed, drowsily searching for Justin, even though it had to be him in the shower. She hadn’t heard him get up, rather remarkable since she couldn’t remember a moment throughout the night when they hadn’t been entwined.
Even more surprising was that she’d slept so deeply. Even with her longest-ever boyfriend—all of five months—she’d never been able to fall asleep beside him, often moving to the couch so she could catch some sleep. He’d complained she had trust issues.
Clearly that hadn’t been a problem last night. Maybe it had been the intense physical activity that had let her sleep so well. Or maybe it was because of Justin’s huge bed with the luxurious satin sheets. More likely it was how he’d touched every inch of her body, finding erogenous zones in the most interesting places. No getting around it, he was a virtual sex god. And last night, he’d made her feel like a goddess.
The first time the sex had been hot and explosive, almost primal in their urgency. She’d thought they were both satisfied. Then he’d scooped her up from the sofa, carried her upstairs and demonstrated the full range of his talents. And she’d responded with moves she didn’t know she possessed.
She stretched, her mouth curving in a dreamy smile. The smell of sandalwood soap drifted through the room. She opened her eyes.
Justin stood beside her. Water sparkled over his ripped chest and a white towel was wrapped around his hips. She reached for him, inhaling his masculine scent, but he remained several feet away. He didn’t speak, just stared with an odd expression. Was he regretting their night?
“Good morning,” she said, the words almost a question.
“It’s a fucking fantastic morning.” He spoke with such fervor it was clear she’d misjudged his silence.
She grinned up at him, her gaze lowering to the growing bulge beneath his towel. “Glad you feel that way,” she said, reaching for him. “Best of all, it looks like you’re not finished yet. Surprising really, considering...”
“I’ll never be finished with you.” He captured her hand before she could tug off the towel, then stooped, covering her mouth with a hard kiss. “But dammit, I have to go.”
“Surely you can stay a few more minutes,” she murmured. Already her nipples were tightening, her body reacting to his touch. Clearly it wasn’t just her mind that remembered. And all he was doing was holding her hand.
“Had a call,” he said. “But how about dinner tonight? I can make a reservation somewhere.”
“Or we could just eat here.”
He skimmed his mouth over the back of her wrist. “Good. That will give us more time.”
The way he growled the word “time” made her clench with anticipation. She didn’t really want to wait though and it might be possible to tug off his towel. Lingering in bed would be far more fun than getting up this early. Obviously though, a phone call meant he was needed and justice was more important than satisfying their leftover lust.
She shoved away the sheet and swung her legs over the bed. “I’ll be quick. I just need a second to get dressed.”
“No need to get up. I’ll put Gunner in the backyard so you can sleep. I wrote down the door codes so you won’t get locked out.” His gaze swept over her breasts and then back to her face. “I’ll call you later. And next time park in the garage where your car is safer.”
He strode into his dressing room, leaving her stunned and still gripping the sheet. She must have misunderstood. His home was his private domain. More than one of his girlfriends had complained that he never let them stay, booting them out of his bed and house whenever he received a work call. She’d thought that was very reasonable. Like her, Justin probably brought home confidential files and she didn’t want sleepover company wandering around, poking their noses in places they shouldn’t.
But he hadn’t only invited her to stay; he was leaving her his security codes. To the front. To the back. To his garage.
She let her head sink back on the pillow, absorbing the luxury of sleeping late. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. Definitely before she had Gunner who was always quite insistent that he be taken outside at the crack of dawn.
Justin’s steps sounded as he descended the stairs, then she heard his voice as he greeted Gunner. There was no sound of a back door opening but the kitchen was on the opposite side of the house. She couldn’t make out his words either, just a low rumble, but the fact that he was still talking to Gunner left her feeling all warm inside.
She rolled onto her side and flipped the pillow over her head, determined to grab this rare opportunity when she didn’t have to tend to her dog. But she was wide awake now, too focused on the sounds in the house. Maybe it was best to get up too. She still had to prepare questions for her interview with Carlton’s ex. She’d wait for Justin to drive off and then retrieve her clothes.
She propped up against the headboard, listening for more sounds. But the house was silent. Maybe he’d already put Gunner in the backyard and driven away. Surely she’d have heard something though, even if it was just the vibrating garage door.
She slipped out from beneath the sheets, walked to the window and pushed back the curtain. A reddish sun peeked over the horizon
but the residential street was still dark and empty. Movement flashed and she spotted her dog.
Gunner wasn’t in the back yard but loose on Justin’s front lawn. He sniffed then raised his leg and peed on some decorative shrubs. She pressed closer to the glass, peering in dismay. Did he jump the fence? Then she realized he wasn’t alone. Justin was kneeling behind her back bumper, feeling beneath her car.
He searched the undercarriage for another moment then rose, brushed off his pants and strode around the side of the house. Gunner bounded after him and they disappeared from sight. Moments later, a garage door whirred and Justin’s black SUV rolled down the driveway.
Shaking her head, she let the curtain fall into place. Detectives were a suspicious bunch and Justin’s paranoia about her car emphasized the nature of his job. Robert and Justin had wanted her to rent a house with a garage, citing security reasons. However, she didn’t have to worry about sabotage. Unlike Justin, she hadn’t put anyone behind bars. Her most significant contribution had been Savannah’s case. And Matthew Friedel wasn’t the sort to plant tracking devices or bombs beneath cars.
Thomas Carlton was though.
She shook away that thought almost as soon as it popped in her head. She hadn’t roused Carlton’s antipathy yet, other than to call his ex-wife and arrange a visit. Besides, if someone tampered with her car it would mean she was moving closer to finding Erin’s abductor. That would be a welcome development. Because when killers were threatened, they took action. And action often led to answers.
She hurried into the bathroom and enjoyed a quick shower, relieved to see only masculine shampoo on Justin’s shelves. He may entertain other women but he didn’t encourage them to leave feminine products on display. She used the new toothbrush he’d left by the sink, resisting the temptation to peek into his cupboards. He’d removed any visible signs of other ladies and that thoughtful gesture was enough.
She wrapped herself in an oversized towel and headed downstairs, eager to see Gunner. Her clothes has been gathered and left on the sofa, and she dressed quickly. A sheet of paper listing the codes lay on the counter and she scooped it up before stepping out the back door.
Gunner was posed by the fence, staring up at a scolding gray squirrel. At the click of the door, he wheeled and trotted onto the deck, happy to see her but not as exuberant as she’d expected. He gave her hand a hasty lick, then wheeled and raced back to the fence, hopeful the squirrel would eventually come to ground.
He was in for a long wait, but the squirrel was excellent entertainment. Gunner was trained not to bark gratuitously so there was no reason not to enjoy a cup of Justin’s coffee before she left.
She entered the security code on the keypad and stepped back into the house.
The sleek coffee maker was more complicated than the ones she was used to, but the brew it produced was dark and strong. Too strong. Sputtering, she opened his fridge and added a splash of milk. Justin must have a cast-iron stomach. Like his body.
She allowed herself a shiver of pleasure before straightening her thoughts. There was much to do. If Justin used his pull with the warden, it was possible she’d see Carlton very soon. Even reclusive prisoners tended to meet with visitors, if only to break the mindless monotony. She needed to think about her questions as well as the best way to conceal her identity. She didn’t expect much cooperation; even Sonja’s tarot cards confirmed Carlton was the devil.
Maybe she could pretend to be researching one of Carlton’s Thoroughbreds; Justin had said one of his stallions had been a top ten sire. But Carlton might blame horses for his conviction. After all, it had been his passion for racing that had let the undercover cops—primarily her father—gain his confidence. Maybe it would be better to say she was working on a book about wrongful imprisonment and how families coped with the fallout. She’d have a better idea of the best angle after meeting with Carlton’s ex today.
She scanned the kitchen for a pen, keen to jot down her ideas. However the counters were clear of everything except the spoon she’d used to stir her coffee. Justin was definitely much tidier than she was.
She checked the den but his neatness was evident there as well. Their wine glasses from last night had disappeared, along with the photo album. She didn’t know when he’d had a chance to tidy up. Certainly he hadn’t done it last night and there would have been little time this morning. Maybe he’d returned downstairs while she was sleeping. She knew he moved like a ninja but the idea that he’d been awake while she’d been oblivious left her feeling unsettled.
She glanced through the doorway of his office but there weren’t any pens on the desk. In fact, everything appeared to be locked away. A steel gun safe stood in the far corner and a long table was lined with file boxes. She’d expected to see crime photos pinned up, but the wallboards were blank. The pictures hanging on the left were related to horse racing, not law enforcement. That must be his escape wall, something good to see after staring too long at grisly photos.
She inched into the office, drawn by the pictures and the chance to gain more insight into Justin outside of his work persona.
He’d definitely downplayed his success at the track. His horses had run in very prestigious races, judging by the big smiles and even bigger purses. One photo showed more than thirty people beaming from the winner’s circle, probably one of the ownership groups he’d mentioned. He certainly had a wide variety of friends. Some had an unmistakable cop look; others appeared as if they’d just stepped off a wanted poster.
She was about to back away when a familiar face caught her attention, a face she saw every day in the mirror. There were only four other people standing beside her: Justin, Lara, the trainer and the groom. Everyone looked genuinely happy, except maybe Lara who was smiling like a bridesmaid at a wedding. Unlike the other pictures, this race had been a minor one with a very modest purse. But she’d certainly treasured that day. Clearly so had Justin.
She leaned forward, drawn by the striking lines of his face. He was so handsome, looking far more approachable when he was smiling. Actually on closer inspection, his mouth was tilted. Not like Lara’s but almost like a snarl concealed behind a smile. He was staring to the left of the photographer, his hand on Nikki’s shoulder. Her first thought was that he looked ready to pull her away if the horse jumped. But his eyes were locked on someone beyond the winner’s circle.
Who else had been at the races that day? She could only remember Justin picking her up. She’d been disappointed to see Lara lodged in the front seat but also relieved, knowing her mom wouldn’t worry so much if there was another woman present. Of course, that hadn’t stopped her from launching into another horse tirade as soon as Nikki returned, and that reaction had been the reason she hadn’t accepted any more of Justin’s invitations.
She stared thoughtfully at the framed photo. Her mom had been suspicious of everyone. Justin had given Nikki a copy of the win picture and—like him—she’d proudly hung it on her wall. But her mother had removed it the very next day, claiming she couldn’t bear to look at another horse.
“You can’t blame horses for what happened to Dad and Erin,” Nikki had said.
“No,” her mother snapped. “But I can blame the people around the horses.”
Nikki had never seen the picture again.
Sighing, she turned and trudged from the office. Ironically her mother may have been right. Because Thomas Carlton and his horses could be tied to this. And though her mother wasn’t alive to see it, it seemed the mystery surrounding Erin’s disappearance might finally be solved. And maybe along the way Nikki would learn more about her father.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Justin’s neighborhood had sprouted to life, and now Audis and BMWs spilled from the streets, joining the congested arteries that led to the city center. Nikki was filled with too much shimmering energy to mind the traffic. She would have avoided the gridlock if she hadn’t lingered so long over coffee, but it had been fun watching Gunner and the squirrel. It had al
so given her time to formulate the questions she wanted to ask Mrs. Carlton.
Heavy traffic meant it would be quicker to drive directly to her office rather than return home, but that wasn’t an issue. She kept dog food and a change of clothes stashed at work in case of long jobs…or memorable evenings like last night.
She smiled in the rearview mirror at Gunner. “Justin’s pretty wonderful, isn’t he?”
Gunner thumped his tail, either in agreement or simply because of her happy voice. Probably a bit of both.
Her phone chirped. The display showed Robert’s cell number and she pressed the green button, tamping down her disappointment that it wasn’t Justin.
“Are you on a surveillance job?” Robert asked. “I’m at your office but see your car isn’t here. I can’t wait any longer. Have to make a nine o’clock tee time.”
“I’m driving to the office now.” She refrained from saying anything more. Robert had been influenced by her mother, and though he and Justin no longer had much interaction, she sensed his disapproval whenever she mentioned Justin’s name.
“I just wanted to update you.” Satisfaction deepened Robert’s voice. “I spoke to my contact who has a friend with the warden. He’s going to help us figure out the best way to get to Carlton. Next month there’s a fundraiser that the warden always attends. He’ll approach him then.”
Nikki winced. She should have texted Robert before he went to all this trouble. But now that Justin was handling it, she no longer had to rely on Robert’s convoluted chain of contacts. “I’m so appreciative,” she said. “But you don’t have to do anything more. Justin is going to arrange a visit. He’s going to talk to the warden today.”
“Well, that’s helpful.” Robert gave a rueful chuckle. “Wardens tend to bend over backwards for homicide detectives. But I’m surprised Justin has the time to be bothered with this. And everything has a price. I hope you didn’t have to give him too much?”
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