Burning Lies

by Helene Young

  In his kitchen he turned the kettle on, put a teabag in the pot. Each movement was deliberate, slow.

  Ten minutes later, he was logged into Return of the Drones. Money could buy you anything if you knew where to look. McCormack wouldn’t see it coming.

  He sat back and sipped his tea, feeling calmer now. One step at a time. Anything could be accomplished one step at time. First McCormack, then Brad Ryan.

  Each time you took a man’s life it was easier than the last.

  Chapter 35

  RYAN seemed lost for words. Kaitlyn doubted that happened very often. He hadn’t answered her question about Speedy and she doubted he would. But the more she thought about it, the more she was sure she was right. The logs had confirmed that Speedy was invariably the first on the scene. He had the knowledge, the opportunity, but did he have the motivation? Ryan’s reaction when Speedy caught them kissing had taken her by surprise. They weren’t the actions of a man trying to keep an affair secret; they were those of a man trying to prevent a disaster. Then again, maybe it was wishful thinking to blame Speedy because it meant Chris, dead or alive, wasn’t responsible for these fires. Maybe she was being foolish.

  Ryan stopped at her front gate, the engine idling, and looked across the car at her. His expression was unfathomable.

  ‘Kaitlyn, I can’t tell you. You know I can’t. But be very sure we’re doing something about it.’

  ‘Right.’ So, she was correct about Speedy being a suspect. Ryan hadn’t denied it and everything about him, from the darkened look in his hazel eyes to the stillness of his body, told her the truth. ‘Don’t wait too long to pick him up, then.’

  ‘You get a photograph from that aircraft of yours and we’ll have the arsonist detained before you land.’

  ‘We’re working on it.’ And they were. She’d heard the Dash up in the smoke today when they’d been fighting. Maybe the crew had found something already. Lauren was in command, which gave her some hope.

  ‘Thanks for the ride.’ She smiled at him, wishing the day might have had a different ending. The man could kiss. ‘See you later.’ She pushed open the door and the heat of the late afternoon flooded in.

  ‘Sorry we got sprung.’ The words sounded rushed, as though he were a nervous teenager getting the words out before it was too late. The thought amused her. She didn’t get the feeling Ryan had ever been nervous around a woman and yet right now he looked unsettled. All because she’d blown his cover and guessed the suspect’s name? She supposed that could be unnerving.

  ‘So am I,’ she replied with a quick grin. ‘Come in, if you like. Julia will have left something to eat. She and Dan are up at Ravenshoe for the afternoon. They’ll be home later. She’d love to think someone other than me appreciated her cooking.’

  ‘And you?’ he asked, reaching out to wind a long curl of her hair around his finger. ‘What do you want?’

  The touch of his hand and the gentle backwards tug on her hair made her tingle. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. In an instant the tension was back between them, the awareness. She didn’t hesitate.

  ‘I’d like that,’ she replied, meeting his gaze as she covered his hand with her own. She knew she hadn’t imagined the heat of his kisses and the need in his strong hands. Could he really be unsure of her? It didn’t seem possible and yet …

  He pulled his hand away, her hair springing back. ‘Right. How about I go home and clean up first?’

  ‘Trust me, after a morning like the one we’ve had you’ll crash out the minute you’ve had a shower. Might as well eat something here first, then head home. Come on, park by the house.’

  For a moment he hesitated, then he released the brake and turned the car down the driveway.

  ‘Over there,’ she said. ‘By the garden beds.’

  The car doors banged and she led the way across to the house, conscious of Ryan’s lean body next to hers. The smoke clung to both of them, but she could also smell sweat and aftershave in a compelling mix. Nero was yapping inside the house and shot out the door when she unlocked it, doing rapturous circles of delight.

  Ryan followed Kait through to the kitchen, dropped his jacket on a chair and crouched down to mess with Nero. The pup was delighted to have a playmate.

  ‘See?’ Kait said. ‘I knew she’d have left enough for an army. Lamb korma.’

  A large pan sat on the stove. A pot-stand weighted down a note.

  Ryan came and stood behind her. ‘Kait. About before.’

  She turned around to face him, surprised by his tone, then froze. He was about to apologise. Damn the man for being so honourable. She didn’t want honourable right now.

  She kept her voice light, teasing. ‘Before Speedy turned up? Or when I guessed who you were?’

  ‘Before Speedy.’ He was frowning.

  She shook her head, abruptly turning back to the stove. She didn’t want to hear his apologies for something she’d been fantasising about for the last month.

  ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘We were both on a high after beating the blaze. I understand what those sorts of pressure can do. I’m just feeding you. No pressure here.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Oh.’ She shook her head, abruptly turning back to the stove and flicking the igniter. The flame flared before she turned it down to a low glow, feeling him step closer. The smell of bushfire and sweat was strong. Her body was taut, waiting. Waiting for him.

  His fingers brushed the back of her neck, lifting her hair clear of it. She felt the warmth of his breath before his lips touched her. She had no hope of stopping her low moan of want, any more than she could stop her body arching, her shoulderblades brushing his chest, her bottom pressing against him.

  There was no mistaking the hardness there or the intensity in his kisses as he trailed up her neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. His hands rested either side of her on the bench and she turned in the circle of his arms, meeting his mouth with her own need.

  She’d never shared a kiss like this with anyone. It claimed her, branded her. Emptied her. He kept a small space between them and it tormented her. She wanted his arms around her, wanted to feel his arousal press against her. She needed the touch of his skin on hers, to open her body to his, to match the passion in his eyes. She slid her hands around him, tested the tension in his muscles. He didn’t yield. Did he have doubts about this?

  ‘Ryan.’

  ‘Hmm?’ His eyes were hooded as he lifted his head before slanting another kiss across her lips.

  ‘Don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish.’

  ‘I have every intention of finishing this,’ he retorted, a smile crinkling his eyes. ‘I just don’t want to rush you.’

  She lifted the bottom of his shirt and shivered as her fingers played across the hot skin of his stomach. It tightened under her touch. Was she having such an effect on him? The power was intoxicating. With a rush of desire she leant back and hauled his shirt up. ‘Off, buddy. I need to see you before I die with wanting.’

  ‘You only had to ask,’ he replied, pulling the T-shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor, a smouldering look in his eyes.

  While he flicked open the fasteners on the waist of his overalls, she could only stare. He was like a battle-scarred tomcat. Her fingertips sought out the marks and scars across his body. A large U-shape scar altered the angle of his left arm, but his muscles were solid under it.

  He pushed his overalls past his hips and stepped out of them, dropping them on top of his shirt, then reached for her. The fitted shorts he was wearing did nothing to disguise his body’s reaction. With hands that clearly knew their way around a woman’s body, he had her T-shirt over her head before she realised what he was doing.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, turning the gas off on the stove. ‘Not here.’ She gathered the clothes from the floor with one hand and grabbed his arm with the other.

  ‘Anywhere is fine by me,’ he drawled, managing to drop a kiss on her shou
lder.

  ‘Ha. You think I’m going to risk the inquiring gaze of a seven-year-old boy?’ she shot back.

  ‘Probably not. Don’t need to traumatise the kid for life.’

  ‘And despite your good looks and charm, you could do with a shower.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Her heart missed a beat at his next words. ‘A hot, wet, soapy woman. Stuff of my dreams.’

  Kait couldn’t stifle her groan. This was the stuff her own dreams were made of.

  She pushed open her bedroom door and he stopped with a quick appreciative whistle. ‘Now that’s what I call a bed.’

  Letting go of him, she closed the door before skirting around the centrepiece of the room with its white cover and vibrant pillows. ‘Shower.’

  ‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’ he said, catching up with her in a couple of quick strides and gathering her close. His skin was hot, soft, silky, and she felt the elastic spring of toned muscles. God, he was gorgeous.

  ‘Hmm?’ The sound rumbled in his throat, a deep purr. Maybe he was less tomcat and more pride-lion material, Kaitlyn thought as he nibbled across the swell of her breast, turning her belly to molten heat. Rational thought disappeared.

  He fiddled with the back of her bra. ‘This has got to go. Can’t believe you lock these sexy girls up.’ He peeled it off, tantalisingly slowly.

  Goosebumps spread across her body as she reacted to his touch and the look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her with such approval. It was arousing her as much as his touch. Her breasts rose as her back arched with reckless need. Her nipples puckered even tighter as he rolled his palm across them.

  ‘I knew you’d be spectacular, but …’

  She tried to concentrate on the line of silver in his hair as he bent and took her nipple in his mouth. She gasped at the heat, the blast of desire, the unbearable need, that swamped her. A shower was now the last thing on her mind. Spectacular? Her? She’d borne a child and had the marks to prove it. She had the curves of a mature woman too busy to stay fit. It was all she could do to keep her armpits shaved, and now this dangerously attractive man was calling her spectacular?

  Kaitlyn arched her back as he ran his hands over her skin. Trailing fingertips brushed and teased and tested. He released her nipple with one last gentle tug.

  ‘About that shower you reckon I need.’

  ‘Mmm?’ She brought herself back to earth. He was steering her towards the en suite.

  ‘You should join me.’ His laugh was throaty. She didn’t need prompting, bumping the door open with her hip.

  The en suite was roomy. Opposite the deep bath and wide shower was a mirrored wall.

  ‘Beautiful,’ he said. His eyes locked with hers. She sensed that she was seeing the real Ryan, a man stripped bare. A man with a need to touch something soft, to be himself, give himself, in a world where lies were all he had.

  ‘Beautiful,’ he said again as he slid his hands around her and turned them both towards the mirrors. He didn’t take his eyes from hers as he cupped her breasts and rolled their rosy peaks again with gentle thumbs. There was no way she could stop her eyelids fluttering closed as one hand slid lower, slowly flicking the press-studs of her pants open.

  His fingers dipped inside her pants and she shivered. There was no going back. He wouldn’t miss how turned on she was. He had no way of knowing it had been several years since she’d had honest-to-God sex. He had no way of knowing she’d never given herself so willingly to a man. He could never know how much she craved the touch of his hands, his lips, his mouth on her body. She was stunned by the power of her need.

  One hand worked her pants down, the other traced a meandering path through the soft curls between her trembling legs. As she leant back against him and her skin ignited with the contact, she knew she was lost. Forcing her eyelids up, she met his gaze in the mirror, aroused by the desire in his eyes. As he hooked the edge of her panties and slid them down, she surrendered to the heat of his hands. Tomorrow would be a different day. Tomorrow she’d worry about the morning after. Tonight he was hers.

  A gust of wind showering gum leaves on the roof made her stir in the close circle of his arms. She ached, a delicious, bone-melting ache, from being thoroughly loved. And from laughing. Never had sex been funny for her before, but he’d made her giggle like a teenager, squealing as he found her ticklish spots. The next minute he’d tipped her over the top with possessive eyes and hot kisses in a shuddering climax that had left her weepy and replete.

  He changed from a serious, sexy man to a boyish charmer to a ‘mortal worshipping on the altar of her body’ in the blink of an eye. Just how he managed to make that line sound believable she wasn’t sure, but he’d mesmerised her with the tender stroke of his hands and the warmth of his lips as he discovered sensitive places she had no idea existed.

  The clock radio provided the only light in the room and she could just make out his features. Relaxed in sleep, he looked boyish, untroubled, unlined. No hint of the darker depths she’d glimpsed earlier. Straight nose, broad jaw, wide, high forehead. They were classical features that the tiny scars gave character to. She touched the silver flash in his hair. Another scar. He hadn’t explained the double-edged one on his arm. She hadn’t asked.

  She hadn’t asked how old he was, either. No man in her bed for five years and suddenly she’s jumping the sexiest man in the district who had to be early thirties at the most.

  But his eyes were old, like a glimpse into a world where there were no happy endings. Even when he smiled, so often the humour didn’t quite reach his eyes. The youthful face was a mask he wore. Tonight she’d met the man behind the boy. He was someone she could care about all too easily. Dangerous.

  ‘You need to feed me sometime soon.’ He spoke a moment before he pinned her to the bed again, rubbing his cheek across her collarbone. ‘And then you’ll send me home in my dirty clothes.’

  ‘What? You want more?’ She ran her hands up his back and around his neck, anchoring him to her, enjoying his weight while she still could.

  ‘I’m thinking it’s time I was going. Dan might not appreciate this.’

  She met his serious look as he snagged a curl of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. ‘Then you’d be thinking right. Maybe I could hide you here and no one would know?’

  ‘Your own personal sex slave?’

  ‘Something like that.’ She smiled up at him.

  ‘Maybe you can visit my place next time.’ He planted a long, savouring kiss on her lips and as he rolled away she hugged the ‘next time’ to herself.

  Chapter 36

  RYAN stretched his hands against the curl of cramps. In the time it took to drive home from Kaitlyn’s house, exhaustion had settled on him like a 40-kilo backpack. His calves ached, his back bowed beneath the weight. Seven solid hours’ worth of physical labour after two hours’ sleep the previous night.

  He took the stairs one at a time, wondering if this was what getting old would feel like. The guilt didn’t help. He’d just committed a crime against the laws of undercover operatives. He’d slept with someone who was on the periphery of his case. Undercovers didn’t do that. It put innocent people in the firing line. Punishment would be swift if his boss worked it out. But he had a lightness of heart, a lift to his spirits he’d never felt before.

  Maybe the shrink, Leila, had understood him better than he realised. For the first time in four years, he wanted out, wanted some normality in his life. Yet the family next door were so far removed from him and his world, the attraction of it perplexed him. How was it that what he’d always considered stifling had become warm and comforting? What he’d always considered interfering had become concerned interest?

  And Kaitlyn.

  He smiled as he reached into the fridge for a beer. He could see her face in his mind at the moment the passion in her had ignited. The self-contained woman with the serious smile had more tempest hidden inside her than any of the women he’d previously made love to. That list of women was consi
derable and varied, with some very accomplished lovers, but …

  He flicked the beer-top into the sink and half drained the bottle. It was her almost-innocence, coupled with the blazing joy on her face as she’d come alive, that had dragged him in completely.

  ‘Amazing,’ he said, before turning to his computer.

  His personal phone vibrated on the table where he’d left it in the morning. It made him realise he must have left his hello phone in the car. He looked at the number and answered it. Crusoe.

  ‘What’s up?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘Going to ask you the same thing, mate. Where’ve you been? Offline?’

  ‘Working. It’s fire season, in case you haven’t noticed.’

  ‘Leila’s worried about you.’

  Ryan dismissed that. ‘Since when did you take any notice of Leila?’

  ‘She misses you. Wants to arrange dinner for two in Palm Cove.’

  ‘Bit busy for that.’

  ‘We’d appreciate a visit from you in the next couple of weeks. We think we’ve almost got to the bottom of the garden.’

  ‘Good to hear. Keep digging until you do. I’ve still got some work to do up here.’

  ‘Think your tree change might be messing with your head, mate. Don’t forget Leila’s invite. She’s very insistent you make the time.’

  Ryan grinned despite his exasperation. So they were keeping tabs on him. He wondered how that was being managed. ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff. I’ll be home in time for Christmas and my work will be done. It’s closer than you think.’

  The noise that came down the phone was half laugh, half snort. ‘Get any closer and you’d be joined at the hip, mate. I’ll let Leila know so she can set a time.’

  The phone went dead in Ryan’s hand.

  ‘Smart-arse.’ His partner’s sense of humour was drier than most. It was the only way to stay sane. He remembered long nights on surveillance jobs, when they’d stayed awake with conversations that would have made the shrink’s blond hair curl. He had no intention of meeting Leila up here in North Queensland.