Slow Burn

Home > Romance > Slow Burn > Page 8
Slow Burn Page 8

by Ednah Walters


  “She had an amazing voice. They both did. I never saw them perform, but I have a collection of some of their music. They are reissuing them.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “But I guess you already knew that.”

  She nodded. “You see that metal case?” She pointed at a box at the corner of the room.

  He twisted his head to follow the direction of her finger. It was the same sturdy, metal box where she’d retrieved the camera. “That’s the kind of box you need to store your stuff in, not these….” His voice trailed off when her eyes narrowed with irritation. “Sorry. Yes, I see the box. What about it?”

  “It has an old record player, and stacks of records of some of their old songs—the ones that will never be reissued.”

  “Really?” He wanted to ask why, but decided to keep it for later. “Can we play some now?”

  She smiled at the curious expression on his face. Then her gaze fell on the clock on the wall and the smile wavered. “Tempting as that sounds, I can’t. I have a dinner date tonight and must clear this mess.”

  “Oh.” With whom, he wanted to ask. He’d already checked her home for any male things and didn’t see any. Her fingers were bare of rings. But those little observations didn’t mean she wasn’t dating. Lucky man. “We’d better finish here then. Wouldn’t want you to miss your date.”

  She cut him a look, but he pretended not to notice. Her soft flowery scent teased his senses, starting a now familiar ache in his belly. He shifted so he could watch her. His gaze followed the smooth contour of her face, the sloping cheeks, the defined cheekbones and her sexy, slanting eyes now smudged with mascara. Raccoon eyes, his mother called it. He’d dated his share of beautiful women, but none of them would be caught dead entertaining without a flawlessly made-up face. With Ashley, on the other hand, vanity wasn’t an issue. Did she have any idea what a major turn on that was?

  His gaze shifted upward, liking the way her long dark lashes contrasted her creamy skin. Her mouth drew his attention the most. She’d chewed all traces of lipstick from her lips, until the natural pink color was visible. He wondered how she would taste. Succulent and sweet? Hot and exotic? Combination of both? It didn’t really matter, the pleasure he’d get working with and on them was limitless.

  She suddenly looked up and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Ron knew he ought to feel guilty for ogling, but he didn’t. He was a red-blooded male, and she was a beautiful woman. It was only natural for him to appreciate her God-gifted attributes.

  “How much of that evening do you remember?” he asked.

  She stood and nervously rubbed her palms on her pants, her expression becoming guarded. He straightened too, and followed her to the kitchen counter, where the photographs were still spread out. For a moment she didn’t speak, just pursed her lips and squinted at the glossy pictures.

  “Not much.” She gave him an uncertain look. “The ride to the club. The firefighters and lights from the fire trucks. Sherry holding my hand while talking to my aunt and uncle. It’s as though I fell asleep when we arrived at the club and didn’t wake up until I was pulled from the edge of a gaping hole on the first floor.”

  Ron felt the tightening in his chest and steeled himself against the pain. It still slammed into him, making him clench his teeth. The floor had given away from right underneath his father as he ran back to check on Ashley’s parents. The man deserved a medal, not the ugly rumors Ron and his mother had had to live with since his death. They deserved to know the truth, and Ashley was the link.

  “Have you ever thought of using hypnosis to recover your lost memories?”

  Ashley started to shake her head before he finished speaking. “No. I never wanted to relive that night,” she said.

  “Even now?”

  She glanced at the pictures again, wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “I want to help you, I really do, but hypnosis? I don’t know.” Frown lines appeared on her smooth brow. “I think it’s better to talk to the other people who were there that night. Kirkland shouldn’t be a problem. He’s like an uncle to me. You can talk to Hogan.”

  “Actually, that won’t be necessary. I have a friend looking into this even as we speak. He can talk to Kirkland and Hogan.” He was more interested in what she saw that night. “I know it’s asking a lot, but it would mean a lot to me if you agreed to hypnosis, Ashley.”

  Her smooth brow furrowed. “A friend?”

  Ron noticed how she totally ignored the issue of hypnotherapy. Oh, the woman thought she was slick. She had no idea who she was dealing with. “His name is Kenny Lambert. He used to be with the FBI and now runs a P.I. firm. He’s very competent.”

  “What has he learned so far?”

  “Is this really necessary?”

  “I just want to know the truth, Ron. Going by that letter you showed me, someone may have murdered my parents. Not the faulty wiring and smoke rendering them unconscious story I was given. What did your friend find?”

  He knew he shouldn’t be irritated by her third degree, but he was. When it came to this investigation, he wasn’t letting her handle him. In fact, he didn’t want her involved, period. It was too personal and too close to home to share with someone. All he needed from her was the information buried in the inner recesses of her mind, however damning it was.

  He inhaled sharply, reining in his irritation. Sometimes you had to give a little to receive more. “He gave the letters I received to a former colleague with the FBI to study the paper and check for fingerprints. According to their expert, the sender appears illiterate yet the paper used was expensive. The inconsistency indicates the person is attempting to mislead us.”

  “Fingerprints?”

  “None. Not on the envelope, the letters, or my car. The first two letters were left under the windscreen wipers of my car. But if anyone or a company in my building ordered that type of paper, Kenny will find them. He’s good at what he does.”

  Ashley shook her head. “I still don’t understand. Why would this person contact you? Why not the police?”

  “Possibly he or she got the same response I got last week when I asked the Fire Marshal to reopen the case—case closed. The cops weren’t cooperative either. With no new evidence, there’s no case.”

  “Maybe they’re right.”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Ron, you’re blinded by your loss and—”

  “Enough,” he snapped, causing her to flinch. “Please.”

  “Then don’t snap at me.”

  She pouted, drawing his attention to her lush lips. The thought of how they’d taste stole through him, but he squashed it. This wasn’t the time to be distracted.

  “You brought this to me, Ron, not the other way round. I have a right to know what you’ve learned, and I sure don’t want to waste my time chasing a wild goose here, okay?”

  Unbelievable. Tenacious, bold and a real pain in the rear, she held all the aces. He knew it, his mother knew it and the faceless, nameless person who sent the photographs knew it. But she wasn’t making him forget what was at stake by laying guilt on him.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Ashley. But I’m not answering any more of your questions unless you’re willing to meet me halfway.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Don’t ask me to do it, Ron. I can’t.”

  He saw the fear lurking in the depths of her eyes, and he couldn’t blame her for it. No sane person would want to revisit what she must have seen that night.

  “Don’t you mean you won’t?” He inched closer. “Come on. As long as there’s the slightest chance that someone started that fire, we can’t afford to leave anything uncovered.”

  Her eyes snapped with heat. “You’re not being fair. You can’t waltz into my life and start dictating what I should or should not do.”

  “I know I’m asking too much, and to be honest, I know nothing about hypnosis, but I’m willing to learn. I promise I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  She let ou
t a frustrated growl. “Haven’t you heard anything I said?” When he continued to stare at her, she looked away. “Don’t try to make me feel guilty. It won’t work.”

  He had no intention of laying a guilt trip on her, not when seduction often produced the right results. He reached out to caress her cheek with his knuckles. The feel of her warm skin, soft and smooth, sent a jolt through his system. In a beat, desire pulsed along his nerves.

  She stiffened, but didn’t move away. Her eyes, wary and defenseless, tugged at him, making him feel like a low-life for using the attraction between them to get his way.

  “Ashley.” He kept his voice low, heard her catch her breath and felt her body quiver. Perfect. “Do this for me, babe.”

  Her breathing became shallow, her gaze asking, begging for…what? He was more than willing to accommodate any needs she might have. His too. He moved closer and dropped his head until her cheek was a whisper away from his. Anticipation surged through him. He meant to seduce her, yet he was the one losing control of his senses. Her scent, her warmth, the need in her eyes all seem to call to him. Hadn’t he told himself a moment ago he couldn’t afford to be distracted? The urge to taste her was so strong he could barely breathe.

  His “I need you,” was true in every sense of the word.

  Another shudder shook her body. Her mouth opened, hopefully to say ‘yes,’ but the peeling sound of her doorbell intruded. Ron smothered a curse and glared at the door. The moment was lost when Ashley blinked, as though waking from a stupor, and jerked away from him. Her eyes narrowed.

  He braced himself for another slap, waited while she glowered, her breathing uneven. He was surprised when she relaxed and laughed.

  “Were you by any chance trying to seduce me into doing your will, Ronald Noble? Shame on you.”

  His ears grew hot in embarrassment. Still, he managed to flash a grin and stepped back. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “You’re unbelievable.” Ashley rolled her eyes.

  “My middle name, babe,” he said as the doorbell rang, again. When she looked at the clock and frowned. “Your date? I ought to sue the bastard for ruining a perfect moment.”

  “Perfect?” She sucked her teeth in exasperation, then jerked her thumb toward the counter, where he’d left his keys. “Take your keys and leave before I say something that’s inappropriate.”

  He thought she sounded thoroughly disgusted with him, until he saw the corner of her mouth lift before she turned and started for the door. He sauntered to the counter, picked up his keys and approached her. She still hadn’t opened the door, just stood there with her hand on the knob.

  “Are you saying you weren’t even a little bit enthralled by my moves?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Not even close. Better luck next time, pal.”

  “Hmm, next time. I like the sound of that.”

  “I didn’t mean…I meant to say…” A sigh escaped her. “You know what I meant.”

  He grinned, loving the vulnerable look in her eyes. A confused Ashley was as riveting as one in a full-blown temper. How would she look when fully aroused? He only caught a glimpse of how responsive she could be during that brief caress, and he loved it.

  “I do know what you meant. You want me to do a better job next time.” He winked. “And I plan not to disappoint you.”

  She shook her head. “You are, without a doubt, the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. You’re a pain in the a…in the you-know-where and I want you gone.” She jerked the door open.

  “Babe, if I were anywhere near your delectable you-know-where, pain is the last thing you’d be feeling.” His gaze ran down her curvaceous body, lingered around her rounded ass. Hmm, he loved some meat on a woman, something to hold and bite. Their gazes met. Her eyes were wide, as though he’d shocked her. He grinned. She hadn’t heard anything yet.

  “Ah-hmm, excuse me?” a male voice interrupted them from the doorway.

  Ron turned his attention to the tall man wearing an expensive black suit and an amused smile. His gut tightened with envy. Lucky bastard.

  Her senses still thrumming from the hot look she’d seen in Ron’s eyes, Ashley stammered through, “Baron. What brings you upstairs?”

  “Thought I’d stop by and see how the paintings are coming along,” Baron said, then threw Ron a glance. “Didn’t know you had company.”

  She took a sideways step so she wasn’t between the two men. How much of the conversation had her cousin heard? She glanced at Ron, remembering the feel of his breath against her skin, his words, the look in his eyes. Heat crawled up her neck. Okay, just because he was yummy and was obviously attracted to her, it didn’t mean she should lose it.

  She straightened her spine. “Ron, my cousin Baron Fitzgerald. Baron, Ron Noble.”

  Baron’s expression hardened.

  “Le Baron Gallery downstairs, right?” Ron asked but didn’t offer Baron his hand.

  “That’s me,” Baron answered, his tone cold. Then his gaze shifted to Ashley. “Ash, give me a buzz when you get time. I need your opinion on something.”

  Ashley scowled. The coolness puzzled her. Her cousin was usually very amiable. “Why don’t you come in now?” Her glance collided with Ron’s. “Ron was just leaving.”

  There was a moment of tense silence. Baron’s gaze bounced between her and Ron, then he murmured ‘excuse me’ and walked past them.

  Ron stepped out of her loft and turned to face her. “About—”

  She shook her head. “I’ll think about it.” She didn’t want to discuss hypnosis in front of her cousin.

  Ron appeared to understand and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “Hey, Noble,” Baron called out. “You forgot something.”

  Ashley turned to look at her cousin and froze. Oh, no. He was standing by the counter, the pictures Ron had brought in one hand and the envelope and letter in the other. He was studying the top photograph with a scowl. Why hadn’t Ron taken them? She shot him a look from the corner of her eye and hurried toward her cousin. “Those are mine, Baron.”

  Baron’s brows shot up, then he glanced at the cover of the envelope. “Ron Noble? I don’t think so. What’s going on, Ash?”

  “Nothing.” Ashley reached for the photographs, but he moved them out of her reach. She glared at him. “This isn’t funny. Give me the pictures.”

  “The envelope and the letter, too,” Ron added coldly from behind her.

  Baron ignored him, his gaze locked on Ashley. “Were these taken the night your parents, uh, the night of the fire?”

  “Yes.” She extended her hand, palm up. “Give them to me, please.”

  He ignored her request. “What are you doing with them?”

  Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? I have a right to look at my pictures without asking you for permission, Baron Fitzgerald. And you shouldn’t look at things that don’t belong to you.” Once again, she reached for them.

  “They were spread on the damn counter, Ash. I had to be blind not to notice them.” He gave them to her, then jerked his head toward Ron. “Is he responsible for this?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She took the envelope and the letter from his other hand and shoved them in Ron’s, then mouthed ‘go please.’

  “No.” Ron cut her an unreadable glance, then his gaze shifted to Baron.

  She smothered a growl. She had no idea what macho nonsense was behind the animosity between these two, and frankly, she didn’t care.

  “Suit yourself.” She turned to Baron and said the first thing that popped into her head. “I have these pictures out because I’m thinking of seeing a hypnotist to recover my lost memories.” She felt Ron move behind her. He probably thought she was an airhead, one minute vowing to never agree to hypnosis, the next consenting. He had no idea what a mistress of contradictions she’d become since meeting him.

  “Why?” Baron frowned. “Last I heard you were dead set against the idea.”

  “I changed my min
d.”

  “Don’t you mean he changed it for you?” Baron retorted then shot Ron a disdainful look.

  A cold smirk touched Ron’s lips. “I don’t know you, man, yet you seem to have a problem with me.”

  “You bet I do,” Baron snapped. “Stay away from my cousin.”

  “Hey,” Ashley protested.

  “Your family has done enough to hurt her,” Baron continued as though she hadn’t spoken.

  A lethal expression settled on Ron’s expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what I mean. Leave.” Baron jabbed a finger toward the door. “If you ever come anywhere near her again….”

  “You’ll what?” Ron didn’t move, yet Ashley had a distinct impression he was primed for action.

  “Stop,” she yelled, and got their attention. “Enough. Both of you.” She grabbed Ron’s arm and tugged. He scowled down at her. “You’re leaving.” He didn’t budge, but his muscles flexed underneath her hands. If it weren’t for her cousin and their tiresome exchange, she would have savored the feel of him. “Now, Noble.”

  Amusement flickered in the depth of his eyes, then disappeared. “We need to talk.”

  “Saturday.” He still hesitated. What was wrong with him? “Please go.”

  He gave Baron one last heated glance, then allowed her to lead him to the door. Once there, he lifted her chin with his finger and said, “Until Saturday.”

  “Good bye.”

  His finger lingered on her chin, shifting into a brief caress before he dropped his hand and walked away.

  Ashley watched him, the imprint of his finger on her chin still tingling. When he reached the elevator doors, she nudged the door closed with her hip and turned to face her cousin. “What was that about? I have never seen you treat anyone with so much disrespect and—”

  “Mother is going to have a fit when she finds out you’re associating with a Noble. As for recovering your memory, she’ll think you’ve lost your mind.”

 

‹ Prev