Sea of Suspicion

by Toni Anderson

  “You’re divorced?”

  “My wife is dead.”

  Oh, crap. Susie blinded herself with the sunset rather than look at him. “I’m sorry.” Discovering Nick Archer was a widower shifted her perspective like a handbrake on black ice. She’d just assumed he and Lily were lovers. Jeez.

  He picked up two beers from the box, tossed one to Dougie before opening his and taking a deep swallow. When he came up for air, he said, “It happened a long time ago.” Then shrugged, each movement carefully staged to look as if he didn’t give a damn, but the tendons in the back of his hand jutted through the skin and his smile was scalpel sharp.

  Leanne looked up from where she had the wine bottle braced between her knees and the silence screamed with tension.

  “So who won the football?” Nick asked Dougie, spinning the beer-cap into the recycling bin before striding into the den followed by a miserable-looking Dougie.

  Susie pulled a face at Leanne, then rescued the salad, dumping it into a waiting bowl. “Sorry.”

  “How were you supposed to know?” Leanne popped the cork on the bottle and put the wine on the counter beside the glasses.

  “Dougie told me what happened when we first met.” Leanne kept her voice low so the men wouldn’t hear them gossiping. “Lily’s sister, I don’t even know her name, was one of Jake Sizemore’s Ph.D. students. She got killed by sharks doing fieldwork off the coast of South Africa when Dougie and Nick were both postgrads.”

  That explained the sense of seething hostility she’d felt aimed toward her boss in the bar yesterday.

  “It must have been awful. Can you imagine?” Moisture gathered in the corner of Leanne’s eye.

  Susie was mortified by how badly she’d misjudged Nick Archer, and how badly she’d wanted to misjudge him.

  “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Dougie.” A tear ran down Leanne’s cheek, but she scrubbed it away. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so emotional these days.” There was a pause. “You don’t think I’m pregnant, do you?”

  Envy made Susie’s insides twist, but she pushed away the ugly emotion and peered at Leanne’s ultra-skinny frame.

  “You’d know better than me. Have you had unprotected sex in the last six months?” She wiggled her brows as Leanne mentally tallied the probability of being pregnant.

  “Oh, yeah. As often as possible!” Leanne pushed the wine to the back of the counter, wet tears spiking her lashes. “Looks like we’re on the wagon until I know for sure.”

  “Not me. Hey, give me that!” Susie grabbed a glass, poured herself a healthy dose of red wine and took a fortifying gulp. If she couldn’t be pregnant she could at least enjoy the benefits of being not pregnant. And numb the grief.

  Leanne faked annoyance, the skin between her eyebrows crinkling even as her eyes shone. “How can you not support me during my maybe pregnancy?”

  “When you find out for sure I’ll consider it. Although you being over-emotional isn’t exactly proof.” Susie snickered. Despite her brains and street smarts, Leanne was a soft touch. “Anyway, you get to have sex whenever you want with a gorgeous man who loves you. No way I’m giving up alcohol as well as abstaining from sex.”

  It took a moment but Leanne and Susie grinned at each other.

  “And if I’m going to be nice to Nick Archer, I need something stronger than OJ.” Susie took another swallow of wine, absorbing the alcohol across her tongue, aware the nice convenient barrier to her attraction had been swept away like a stick over Niagara Falls.

  Nick Archer was not the type of man Susie wanted to get involved with. She was done with bad boys. She was going to fall in love with a nice, easygoing man and have a comfortable, relaxed relationship and make babies. She was done with wild and destructive, no matter how good looking.

  “If you drink lots of wine maybe you won’t have to abstain from sex.” Leanne jiggled her brows.

  Knowing any reaction would be willfully misconstrued, Susie shrugged noncommittally, but Leanne wasn’t put off.

  “Here—” Leanne grabbed the bottle, tipped it into Susie’s nearly full glass. “Let me top you up.”

  Lily was building a Guinness, tilting the glass beneath the beer tap and taking her time despite the Saturday night melee. Noise was a physical wall bombarding her eardrums, the bar a battlefield of bodies. Outside, October ravaged the coast, the wind coming off the North Sea like an open blast-freezer. But in this cramped oasis of beer, darts and slot machines, it was as hot as Venus and sweat trickled between her breasts like blood from a nicked vein.

  The manager, Niall, caught her eye and gave her a nod to take her break. She gave him a smile, watched the light in his eyes turn hungry.

  He fancied her, but she was not going there. Getting it on with the boss was icky. On cue, Rafael Domenici strolled up to the bar, lounging across it with the assurance of the bold and the beautiful, waiting for her to serve him.

  In your dreams, pal.

  She ignored him, gave the regular his pint and change, and headed through the flap at the end of the bar. She pushed through the mass of sweaty bodies to the backroom, heavy Latino eyes on her back, tracking her progress.

  No doubt about it, Rafael Domenici was a good-looking guy and she wasn’t immune to hotties, but she’d rather get it on with a goat than get involved with some skirt-lifting womanizer who couldn’t say no to a bit of pussy even if it had teeth.

  Anyway, she had other worries.

  She poured herself some coffee, checked her watch, wondering if her mom was in bed yet. Should she call and check, or would that just upset her? Lily chewed her lipstick before sipping the syrupy brew. You’d think after so many years the grief would get better, but her mother just couldn’t let go. She wanted someone to blame. She wanted someone to punish. And she could never accept that Chrissie might have been responsible for her own death.

  The last twelve years had been hell, especially after her father died. Lily pushed her dyed-blond hair out of her eyes and stared into space. He’d been gone three years now, but she still missed him.

  A warm blast of air ripped through the room as the door opened behind her. She didn’t bother turning. “I’ll be right out, Niall.”

  “It is not Niall.” Rafael Domenici’s accent was deep and rich.

  “Well, trust me, Niall will be pissed if he catches you in here so go away.” She tipped the dregs of coffee into the drain and rinsed the mug before drying it and putting it back on the shelf.

  “Lily, I think we, how you say? Get off to a bad foot?”

  Amused, she turned and quirked an eyebrow. “Ya think?”

  Muscles bunched beneath a T-shirt as he scrubbed a big hand through his mop of hair. She tried not to notice.

  “It is jeitinho brasileiro. The Brazilian way.” He shrugged one shoulder and took a hesitant step forward. “You and I, we work together for the next three years, sim? I made a mistake. I no treat you with respect. Sinto muito.” His pale blue eyes looked earnest against his gorgeous tanned face. “I am sorry.”

  Lily couldn’t hide her surprise. “If this is another angle to try and get into my knickers, forget it.”

  He blew his hair out of his eyes in frustration. “I no want to get in knickers.” The word knickers sounded odd coming from his lips.

  Lily cocked a leather-clad hip and challenged him with a look.

  “Ah, sim, you very beautiful.” He backed up a full step, his forehead glistening with sweat. His laugh had an unflattering edge. “I am weak. I no say no.”

  Lily snorted and whirled away. She was glad she made him sweat even if she wasn’t interested.

  “But…” He reached out and touched her arm, the skin-on-skin contact making her jolt. “I am sorry I treat you bad. We can be friends, sim?”

  She tilted her head to look into his eyes and realized he wasn’t pissing around. He was serious. Her neck ached from looking up because he was a big guy. She kept forgetting because her mouth and pride were both bigger.


  But some days she got tired of fighting.

  “Are you going to stop flirting with our supervisor?” The only thing that mattered to Lily, apart from her family, was getting her Ph.D. She didn’t know why it was so important to her, she only knew it was. “Dr. Cooper isn’t interested and you’re stirring up a really bad atmosphere at work.”

  He let go of her arm and bowed slightly. “Sim. I promise I no flirt with you or Dr. Cooper.” He stood tall, puffed out his perfect chest. “But your jealousy will never come between me and Mabel.”

  A laugh burst out of nowhere. Who’d have thought he’d have a sense of humor? “Okay, but if you act like a jerk again I’ll have to hurt you.” She grinned and realized she didn’t laugh much anymore. One day when she wasn’t looking, life had turned grim. She held out her hand. “Deal.”

  He took her hand, his palm smooth and hot against hers. “Valeu, Lily.”

  A stray flutter of attraction caught her by surprise and stopped her breath. Niall barged through the door and stared at their joined hands before Lily jerked free.

  “Who the hell are you?” Niall asked.

  “Niall, this is Rafael. I work with him in the Gatty.” She ignored the anger in her boss’s stance. Jealousy didn’t win any points with her.

  “Nice to meet you, Rafael. Now bog off.” Niall held the door wide and pointed his thumb in the direction of the bar.

  Rafael nodded formally, staring at her as if he had something else to say. His eyes flicked to Niall, whose irritation was starting to show in the set of his jaw and lowering of his brow.

  “Boa noite, Lily. I see you Monday.” He nodded to Niall as he passed, but Niall ignored him and released the door to swing shut on Rafael’s heels.

  “You’re not seeing that wanker, are you?” Niall asked.

  “You have got to be kidding.” Lily rolled her eyes. “We share the same supervisor.” She glanced at the telephone, wondering if her mom had remembered to turn off the burners after her nightly cocoa. But Niall was watching her and she didn’t want anyone to suspect there were problems at home. “Okay, slave driver, I’ll get back to work.”

  “You’ve still got five minutes.” Niall stepped closer, his voice softened to warm toffee.

  Maybe one day she’d put him out of his misery, but right now she wasn’t in the mood. She patted his cheek on the way out. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. You just rest your old bones.”

  She thought she heard his growl behind her back and grinned. Men were easy to control. It was women who gave her hives.

  “Gimme Shelter” played on the stereo, stirring up memories of when Dougie, Gray and Nick had shared a damp, poky flat as undergrads. Of drunken parties and the unrelenting hope of having sex at a time when all that mattered was getting inside a girl without knocking her up or catching HIV. Then Nick met Chrissie and everything changed.

  Dougie laughed at something Leanne said. Some story about how the first time she’d got on a horse she’d gone straight over the other side. Nick watched Dougie squeeze his wife’s hand, one of those intimate little gestures between couples that excluded everyone else.

  Nick smiled grimly. Love was rare and precious. Needed to be nurtured and not taken for granted. No one deserved happiness more than Dougie. He’d give his left nut to protect the guy. Without Dougie, he would never have survived Chrissie’s death. Dougie had looked after him, dried him out and eventually kicked his ass into shape. Got him focused on doing something useful with his life, rather than pickling his internal organs. Even so, Nick didn’t know which of them was more surprised when he’d joined the police force.

  Susie shot him a glance from under her lashes. She’d been talking to Gray since he’d arrived, totally at ease with the other man and hiding from Nick.

  That was okay. He let her think she was safe for now. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late and excitement buzzed along his spine, tingling just beneath the surface of his skin.

  Tonight he was finally going after what he wanted.

  “Where’s the Thruxton, Nick?” Gray had a tanked-up gleam in his eye.

  “Nick’s got a kick-ass motorbike,” Leanne whispered to Susie.

  “A Triumph. A total babe-magnet.” Gray grinned, oblivious to a chocolate smear on his chin. If it had been Susie wearing chocolate, Nick would have helped her out, but Gray was on his own.

  “I want a ride on that bike,” Leanne murmured quietly in Susie’s direction.

  Dougie scowled. “Over my dead body.”

  “I want to borrow it.” Gray slid Nick a hopeful glance.

  “Over my dead body,” said Nick and everyone laughed. Gray never drove a vehicle without putting a ding in it.

  “Anyway—” Nick’s chair creaked as he stretched out his legs, “—I put it in storage this morning.”

  Autumn in Scotland was not the place to be riding a motorcycle unless you wanted iced testicles. He’d taken Lily for a ride yesterday because she’d pestered him all summer and he hadn’t been able to put it off any longer. But one good thing about visiting Emily had been finding out all about the Heathcotes’ new neighbor, Susie Cooper.

  This morning he’d run a background check on Susie Q and she’d come up cleaner than bleach. She was so perfect he should be getting a rash.

  “How come you weren’t at the wedding?” Susie addressed him for the first time since she’d asked him about Lily in the kitchen. Credit to her for rooting out the facts and not wanting to get involved with a man she thought was screwing one of her students. Although the thought of shagging Lily made him gag.

  “Something came up.” Testifying in court against an arms dealer who’d legged it to Paraguay a day before the Serious and Organized Crime Command could make its move. Extradition was a bitch.

  And it still burned that he’d let down his best friend and missed the wedding.

  “Nick could tell you, but then he’d have to kill you.” Gray smirked.

  “Oh, that is so interesting,” piped up Patricia on his right.

  Patricia was pretty with shoulder-length brown hair. Cute, if you liked short, curvy women. Any other night he might have seen where that flirtation led, but not tonight. Not with Dr. Susie Cooper sitting less than six feet away, looking as bright as a newly minted five-penny piece. The fact he got hard just watching her was a complication he had to deal with.

  “Nick’s the only man I know who hates the sound of his own voice.” Leanne smiled.

  “Hey!” Dougie protested.

  “It’s a sexy voice.” Susie grinned at Leanne, but the others missed it.

  She’d had too much to drink because Leanne kept topping up her glass when she wasn’t looking.

  Patricia ran a fingertip down the stem of her glass. “So what deep, dark secrets are you hiding, Detective?”

  Chapter Four

  Nick brushed the question off. Probably said something funny because everyone at the table laughed, everyone except Susie. She flinched and hid her face in her wine at the words “deep, dark secrets.” No one did that. Women were always fascinated by undercover work. God knew why. But Susie kept her head down, not moving, fading into the background with perfect camouflage—the way he had done a million times in the seedier side of London’s underworld.

  What deep, dark secrets could the daughter of a United States senator harbor? And how could he use them?

  Nick finished his coffee, mesmerized as Susie teased the last remaining bit of chocolate mousse out of the bottom of her bowl. He’d stopped drinking hours ago. Watching Susie lose her starched politeness after a few glasses of wine had opened his mind up to a whole host of other possibilities better conducted without being trashed.

  Susie finally pushed her bowl away and Leanne stood to clear the dishes, but Nick climbed to his feet.

  “Sit yourself down, Mrs. MacDonald. You cooked, we’ll clear.” He kicked Gray’s boot, which jerked the man up and out of his seat in one quick motion. Dougie stood as well, though Nick kne
w he wanted to sneak a cigarette more than he wanted to help wash dishes.

  When Nick collected Susie’s plate his fingers brushed the back of her hand. Her eyes flew to his, irises flashing, nostrils flaring with instant awareness.

  “Hello.” He smiled. She looked away, her cheeks flushed and rosy. He should be ashamed of himself for playing with her, but he wasn’t. In the kitchen he dropped scraps into the bin while Gray started on the pans.

  “You need a dog,” Nick shouted to Dougie who’d scuttled outside for a fag.

  “I think Patricia fancies you,” he told Gray and the man’s head swiveled so fast Nick winced.

  “Me?” Gray’s ruddy cheeks and unkempt hair hid a deceptively brilliant mind. After his M.Sc., Gray had started his own computer programming company designing military communication software. He could buy half the town, but still dressed like a student and was chronically allergic to opening his wallet.

  “Aye. Why not? You’re a good-looking bloke.” Nick planted the seed and shut up. Hitting your mid-thirties as a single man made you rethink your options when it came to relationships. Most people got less picky.

  Not Nick though. He hadn’t been tempted by a woman in years and then along came Susie Cooper. Just his luck.

  “This isn’t like that time you set me up with the psycho-chick from the philosophy department, is it?” Gray asked.

  “You went out with her for two months.” Nick loaded the dishwasher, kept his eyes averted because those memories might be funny, but they could still sting. “Maybe if you splashed around some of your cash, your girlfriends wouldn’t climb into other men’s beds.”

  Nick’s bed to be precise.

  Gray stopped scrubbing and they exchanged a cringe. “She was a bloody nutter.”

  Nick laughed. “You were better off without her.”

  Gray grunted but rinsed the pans in record time. His chirpy whistle told Nick he was off to build on tonight’s potential love conquest. Dougie came back inside just as Susie tripped through the kitchen doorway and picked up the telephone. Her feet pointed toward him even as she twisted around to speak to Dougie.