Blood in the Water (Dixie Mafia Series Book 2)

by Cynthia Rayne

  The agent left, but Jane doubted they’d seen the last of him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You’re an idiot.”

  For a second, Byron thought he was dreaming. A seething Jane stood in front of his desk, hands on her hips. Her cheeks were red, her eyes sparkled, and her breasts heaved in the most distracting way.

  The pretty picture made his cock twitch in response. Walking away from her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Now here she was, pursuing him for once.

  It was the first time Jane had come to him of her own free will, and it must mean something. She wasn’t here for work or because of some flimsy excuse he’d used to be near her. Jane was here because she wanted to see him.

  What was the old quote? If you let something go and it comes back to you, it’s yours. He wondered if the same could be said for people.

  A winded Rebel jogged into the room. “Sorry, boss. I was outside bullshittin’ with the guards when she blew right past me.”

  “It’s okay.” It really wasn’t, but this was neither the time nor the place. “Get out. I’ll handle this.”

  “Sure.” With a doubtful look at Jane, Rebel retreated, pulling the door closed behind him.

  If he were a better man, Byron would push her out the door, tell her to save herself, but he couldn’t stop staring at her. Damn, she was a sweet sight for sore eyes. Jane wore a pinstriped suit—as always, put together and polished.

  Byron wondered what she wore beneath it.

  “Why haven’t you contacted me?”

  “You know why.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Enough of this. No one pushes me into doing something I don’t want to.”

  “Maybe I’ve skewed your judgment.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know my own mind.” Before he could find something coherent to say in response, Jane rounded the desk and slapped his face.

  Byron was slack-jawed.

  It was a bold move right out of his fantasies, and damn if it didn’t turn him on.

  He grasped her wrist, holding it, before she could slap him upside the head again. “I’m tryin’ to do the right thing by you.”

  “Who asked you to?”

  They scowled at one another, and the tension strained between them. Byron tried like hell to ignore the blaze of desire burning in his belly.

  Then Jane licked her lips.

  Oh, fuck it all.

  Byron wrapped his arms around her waist, and Jane draped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down, but their lips didn’t meet. Instead, he spun her around and pressed her against the steel vault door behind his desk.

  He placed his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

  “Are you okay—with this, I mean? Valentine violated you.” As he spoke, Byron ran his hands up and down her arms—he still couldn’t quite believe she was here, and he had to touch her.

  Her grin was wry. “Putting a bullet in your rapist is very therapeutic.”

  It was the last thing he’d expected her to say, but she always had a way of surprising him.

  And then she kissed him.

  With a growl, he tasted her again, savoring the slide of her tongue against him, the way she gasped into his open mouth.

  He flicked the buttons open on her blouse and unsnapped her bra. He smiled at the innocent white cotton fabric. There was something alluring about the air of purity she still projected—even though she’d killed a man.

  Byron shoved the thought away. Right now, he couldn’t think. He just wanted to feel.

  Jane had large, full breasts which filled his palms. The nipples were pale pink and already peaked for him. He bent down to lavish attention on them, kissing and sucking. He took them both in hand, licking one first and then the other. Then Byron smooched his way down her stomach.

  She gasped, her thighs rocking against him, already wanting more.

  Byron flipped open the buttons on her trousers and peeled them down, leaving her in a pair of white panties. The crotch was already soaked with moisture. She squealed when he cupped her pussy; the dark curls were scratchy, and the skin beneath them was whisper-soft and sweet.

  He got down on his knees and gave her the wickedest of grins before turning her around and shoving the cotton down her thighs, revealing her delicious ass.

  He kneaded the smooth flesh and gave it a little smack.

  Jane gasped and splayed her hands against the vault.

  Byron wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer, kissing the small of her back, nipping it, licking it.

  “I was right about your ass.” And then he buried his face in her plush bottom.

  Jane squealed.

  Byron wished he could hold off, take her upstairs to his room and lay her down on his big bed, make love to her properly, but he couldn’t hold off any longer—they’d both been waiting too long.

  He stood behind her and then unzipped his fly. His cock sprang out, hard and ready. Before he could talk himself out of it, Byron lifted her onto his dick, before wrapping his arms around her—just the way she liked—hugging her tight as he fucked her.

  If he had his way, he’d never, ever let her go.

  Burying his face in her hair, Byron plunged his cock into her sleek, slippery pussy. She gripped him like a living glove as he lunged inside again and again.

  When he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out, twisted her around, and backed her against the wall again. Jane leaped into his arms, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his hips.

  With a growl, he fucked her so hard, the door rattled. This way better than any of his fantasies. After a few moments, Jane threw her head back and made the most glorious sound, the call of a woman satisfied. Byron let loose, gritting his teeth and pumping until he came inside her with a snarl.

  They stayed like that for the longest time—connected but uncomfortably silent.

  They’d had sex, but nothing was settled.

  Quietly, they both put their clothing to rights and drifted over to his desk, sitting on opposite sides, like they hadn’t been going at it a few moments before.

  “Darlin’, I—”

  “Wait. Before I lose my train of thought, Agent Hawthorne came to see me. You should’ve told me the FBI was after you.”

  “What did the bastard want?”

  “He wanted me to be his CI.”

  The agent had made his intentions clear, but Byron was surprised the man had tried to use Jane against him.

  He leaned back in the chair. “And what did you say?”

  “Do you even have to ask?”

  A rush of warmth suffused him. “You told him to go to hell.”

  “In more professional terms, yes, but I’m not here about the FBI.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I…miss you.” The words were halting. “I think we have something between us worth exploring.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. The past few weeks had been torturous without her. Byron had to delete her phone number from his cell to keep from dialing her up on one pretext or another.

  “I’ve thought about you too.”

  “Good.” She sighed. “Then stop being stupid.”

  “Can’t help it, darlin’, it’s a character flaw.” Byron chuckled. “While I miss the hell out of you, we still don’t belong together.”

  “Says who?” He could tell she was gearing up to give him another tongue-lashing.

  And damn, if his cock didn’t harden, ready for round two. If she kept this torment up, he’d lose his mind and give her anything she wanted.

  “Says me.” Byron met her eyes. “I’ve murdered someone in this very room.”

  Jane didn’t look shocked.

  “I’m blackmailing your precious bikers into helpin’ the outfit.”

  Jane nodded. “I figured you had something on them a while ago. They’d never agree to work with you otherwise. By the way, you should let them go.”

  “Why aren’t you upse
t?”

  She shrugged. “Because I know who and what you are, and I want you anyway. And you aren’t the only murderer in this room.”

  Byron shut his eyes. I should’ve pried the goddamn gun out of her hands.

  He didn’t know what to say about her pragmatism. Although, he already knew Jane looked at the world differently than most people. She couldn’t be a defense attorney without some degree of moral ambiguity.

  “I’ve made a lot of changes in my life and I think…I think there’s room for you in it.”

  “How so?”

  “I quit my job. I have an interview with the Innocence Project next week. Since the state has the power to execute citizens, I’m going to make sure their convictions are rigorous, beyond a shadow of a doubt.” She sniffed. “Besides, I can teach the project a thing or two about reasonable doubt.”

  “I see you’ve prepared for your interview.”

  “I’ve been practicing.” Her eyes were bright and glossy. Byron loved to see her fire. “I’m going to use my legal skills to make a difference.”

  “I hope they hire you.” Byron thought they’d be fools not to offer a job on the spot.

  “Any other objections?”

  He scrambled for another one. “Your father’s a federal judge.”

  “Jed Hunter is a principled but fair man, and I think he’ll adjust to the idea, given enough time and space.”

  Suddenly, Byron was all out of reasons why they couldn’t be together. Or he wanted her so damn bad, he was willing to be talked into it.

  “Are you sure about this, Jane? I’m a man so wicked my own mother didn’t love me.” It was hard to say the words aloud. How on earth could he expect someone else to?

  “I do.” Jane smiled tremulously.

  Byron was dumbstruck. He felt like a ton of bricks landed on his chest. Women told him he was hot, sexy, and great in bed— but they never ever mentioned the word “love.”

  “Fuck, I love you too.”

  And then she skirted around the desk again, balancing on the edge. Jane placed a hand on his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heartbeat pick up beneath her fingertips.

  “I don’t see things as black and white—the world’s infinitely more complex. My life is better with you in it—end of story. Do you have anything else to add?”

  This was the most foolish, impulsive thing he’d ever done in his life, but Byron didn’t have the will to resist her any longer. This might be a huge mistake or the best thing he’d ever done—somehow he sensed it was that last one.

  “No, Legal Eagle.”

  “Good. It’s settled then.”

  “Damn, but you’re good at arguin’ your case.”

  “Before I forget, you’re coming to Sunday supper at my father’s place this weekend.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Then he gathered Jane up into his arms—Rhett Butler style, and then he carried her up the staircase to his bedroom.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  “Can I take Brady to get some ice cream?” Ten held out his arms like Byron would hand the girl over like a sack of flour.

  “Hell no.” Byron glowered at the man for even asking. They were seated in his office waiting for Jane to come home from a business trip. Over the past few months, Brady had spent a lot of time at Beauregard Manor, and all the men doted on her.

  Jane had asked if he could watch Brady overnight while she was working on a case for the Innocence Project. Jane was trying to free a prisoner who’d been incarcerated for fifteen years for a robbery he didn’t commit, according to the DNA evidence. While she hadn’t been able to save Jessup, she now used her skills to free other innocent people.

  “Why can’t I?”

  “She ain’t a cat.”

  “I like children almost as well as cats.”

  Byron made a shooing motion. “Get the hell out of here and stop askin’.”

  Grumbling, Ten swanned out the door, leaving him alone with Brady once more.

  “He’s so weird.” Brady strung together paperclips from the dish on his desk, making a chain out of them.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “But I like him anyway.”

  “That’s because you’re a sweet girl.” Byron didn’t share her feelings.

  Things had fallen into a routine. Jane worked fewer hours than before. Byron hadn’t been quite as fixated on working his way up the organizational structure. Oh, he’d be the boss one day, but he wasn’t in such a hurry anymore.

  They divided their time between Hell and Dallas, but he was going to change their arrangement today—providing Jane went along with his plan, of course.

  Damn, I’m gonna owe Dix some money.

  Byron shook his head. Apparently, Byron was ready to join a love cult. His best friend had been right all along. What an asshole.

  “Look, I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about somethin’.”

  “What?” Brady glanced up from her stainless steel necklace.

  Suddenly, he was nervous.

  “I’m gonna ask Aunt Jane to marry me. Whatcha think?”

  “You are?” She giggled and then threw her arms around him.

  Slowly, but surely Brady had gotten her spark back. They’d made a ritual of going to Georgia’s grave and placing flowers there, encouraging Brady to speak with her mom and deal with the pain and loss.

  The counselor had worked miracles, too. Byron shouldn’t have been so surprised—he knew from firsthand experience how resilient children could be.

  He laughed. “So I take it you’re agreeable to the idea?”

  “Yep! You’re gonna marry her and come live with us?”

  “Hold onto your horses. I gotta ask her first.” Though Byron assumed they’d be living at the manor together. “And she might say ‘no.'”

  Actually, if Jane knew what was good for her, she would say no.

  “After you marry Aunt Jane, you’ll be my Uncle Byron?”

  “I can be, but I was hopin’ you’d be okay with me adoptin’ you. You’d fit right in with my family—all of us got ‘B’ first names.”

  “Brady Beauregard. Hmm. Is it hard to spell?” She’d been working on spelling words lately.

  “Nope, and nothin’s decided, so I want you to think about it.”

  “I will, but I kinda like my name.” Her face was grave. “It reminds me of my mom and I still miss her.”

  “I know you do, and I completely understand if you’d like to keep your last name.” Byron squeezed her shoulder. “Jane and I won’t ever be able to take her place, but we’re here for you.”

  “I know.” Then with an impulsive mood shift only a child could pull off, she made a moony-eyed swooning face. “Did you get Aunt Jane a pretty ring?”

  “I sure did. Wanna see it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He removed a blue velvet case from his jacket pocket and opened it. He’d gotten Jane an obnoxiously large Tiffany engagement ring. Like all jewelry a gentleman purchased for a lady, it was somewhere between a bribe and an offering. When a man was courting, he had to lead with his assets. Byron had more money than God, and he intended to use it to his advantage.

  “It’s so pretty.” She leaned closer, dazzled by the diamonds.

  “Thank you, sweet pea.” After she looked her fill, he tucked it away.

  “Will you have a big wedding? Can I be in it? I wanna be the flower girl, and I need a long golden dress like Beauty wore in Beauty and the Beast.”

  “Let’s see what she says first before you start makin’ plans.” And while he waited for Jane, Byron practiced his sales pitch.

  Half an hour later, Jane walked into his study, dressed in a suit, fresh from the courtroom. She still made his heart skip a beat.

  “Aunt Jane!”

  “Hello, Brady.” She scooped up the little girl and kissed her cheeks. “I’ve missed you.” Over the past few months, Jane had loosened up, become more affectionate with everyone. Especially with him—in the wickedest
of ways.

  “I missed you too, Aunt Jane.”

  “And what about me?” Byron asked.

  “I might’ve missed you too.” Her eyes danced.

  “And do I get a kiss?” He cocked a brow.

  “Of course.” Jane put Brady down.

  Byron brushed his mouth against hers in a chaste kiss. He traced her lower lip with his thumb. When Brady went to bed later, they’d have a much more salacious homecoming—maybe even another round against the wall.

  “Case going well?”

  “Yes, I think we’re going to win.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Ugh, grownups take forever.” Brady stomped her foot. “Ask her to marry you already. I want to pick out dresses.”

  Jane blinked. “Ask me to what…?”

  Byron scratched his chin. “Well, I pictured this goin’ differently, but here we are.” He got down on one knee.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Proposin’.” He held out the ring box. “Jane, will you marry me?”

  “Say yes.” Brady twirled in a circle, unable to contain her excitement.

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot to consider.”

  Brady groaned.

  Byron felt the same way. “Give us a second, sweet pea.” With an exaggerated moan, she trudged over to the sofa.

  “Before I answer the question, we need to discuss a few things.”

  “Of course, we can have a discussion, but while we do, I want you to try it on.” He slipped the ring on her finger, and it was a perfect fit. Then he stood and motioned with his hand. “Lay it on me.”

  “If we get married, we need a prenuptial agreement, a legal binding document.”

  “Are you afraid I’m after your assets?” He winked.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, but you have considerable resources, and you should safeguard them.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but you aren’t my attorney anymore, darlin’.”

  “Still, I'm a realist, which brings me to another uncomfortable topic. You’re in a deadly line of work.” Jane whispered the words so Brady wouldn’t overhear.