“I wouldn’t be going at all if you hadn’t had more faith in me.”
“So it’s my fault? How was I to know you’d bet—”
“Forget it. Just drop it, okay? I’ll get through it. Besides, Fuller ordered me to stay close. Maybe I can discover something that’ll help wrap this up.”
“You sure you don’t want backup?”
“One of us has to check out that bookie again. I can’t do it tonight, and we need to find him. I don’t want to wait. By the way, did you run the tags on our tail?”
“Yeah, rental car. I’m going to swing by O’Hare and see if I can scrounge up a rental agreement, although it’ll probably be leased to someone like John Doe.”
She nodded. “All right. Let me know what you find out.”
“Will do. Mac?”
She saved the file she’d pulled up on her computer and glanced at him.
“Be careful tonight.”
She smiled. “I will.”
After Cooper left, she spent the next hour going over the case files, looking for anything she’d missed before.
On the one hand, she had a suspect that fit the profile, but her instincts warred against the circumstantial evidence that pointed to his guilt. On the other hand, one of two victims had ties to a bookie who claimed to work for a man who’d been the focus of more criminal investigations than she could count. Racketeering, money laundering, loan sharking, and syndicated gambling. Now murder?
Suspicions and investigations didn’t always add up to convictions. Nothing ever seemed to stick with Caprini. A misdemeanor for disturbing the peace when he was a teenager, but since then, his record was spotless. If one only looked at court records.
“You must pay your attorneys a fortune,” she whispered.
“I do, but I was hoping to avoid including them in tonight’s entertainments,” a familiar, deep male voice rumbled from the doorway.
Chapter Eleven
Why had she agreed to let him pick her up at the station? She should’ve said she’d meet him somewhere. Mackenzie nearly groaned seeing Rafe standing in her doorway. He wore a sleek black suit that had custom-tailored written all over it. If the man had that mile-long limo waiting outside, she’d beat the shit out of him.
“Did you have to dress up?”
“I didn’t.” He glanced down at a silk shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, black pants and suit coat. Removing the coat and tossing it over his shoulder, he grinned. “Would you rather I wore less?”
“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
He laughed, a rich masculine sound, which made her think of hot sands and warm waves. “Shall we?”
“Yeah.” Mackenzie logged off her computer, approached him, and lowered her voice. “This is not a date.”
“Of course not.” But his smile said otherwise.
She slapped the gun case into his hands. “Here. We’re done with this. It tested clean. You want to check it?”
“No need.”
She felt like a nudist on parade as he escorted her through the station. She could almost hear the whispers starting and nearly collapsed in relief as the front doors came into view.
“Detective Lyons?”
Mackenzie stopped and turned as a fellow officer approached with a note in her hand.
“This just came in for you.”
“Thanks.” She took the paper, read it, and frowned. “Did you see who left this?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She pocketed the note and glanced at her watch.
“Trouble?” Rafe asked.
“No. It’ll wait for later. Let’s go.”
He should have used the limo, even though that would surely stir the detective’s ire. Rafe tried to focus on driving, but a pair of long legs tugged his gaze like a compass attracted to magnetic north. Mackenzie’s sapphire-colored skirt was a sleek number that hung to a modest length just above her knees when she stood. But when she sat... One creamy leg lifted, crossed, and the skirt slid a millimeter higher. His body screamed for the material to slide further north.
A blaring horn behind him signaled the green light. Rafe pressed the gas and silently cursed his own inability to control his growing urges. Her crystal blue gaze shifted to him. A tiny line formed between her delicately arched eyebrows. God, did she not know what a challenge she offered?
“You continue to eye me with suspicion,” he said.
“You’re a mysterious man.”
He smiled. “I think that’s a compliment.” When that line between her eyebrows deepened, he chuckled. “Are you so worried about any appearance of impropriety that you can’t admit to a simple compliment?”
She licked her lips, and his mouth went desert-dry. “I don’t care so much about what others might think as what I know to be true. I don’t break rules.” She glanced back out the passenger window.
Rafe frowned. Would she feel the same if she ever learned he was Lycan? What about the Lykos Institute’s shadow operations? Could he trust her to keep their secret, knowing that to succeed in their mission to save lives they had to break human laws?
She was attracted to him, he knew, but would that be enough to secure her silence? Her cooperation?
“I thought we were going to your place?” She looked at him. “You just passed the street.”
He could fall into the blue depths of her eyes, but if he wasn’t careful, she could be his downfall.
“We are.” He reached out to caress the corner of her down-turned mouth with his thumb and almost smiled when she didn’t pull away, but nibbled her lip instead. “I own many places. One of them happens to be the city’s premier Italian restaurant.”
“Oh.”
A short time later, he pulled his Jaguar in front of the restaurant, gave the valet his keys, and escorted the detective inside. He had to force himself not to grin when he witnessed her quickly suppressed awe. She was trying so hard not to enjoy herself.
The maitre d’ showed them to his usual table in a quiet but public corner. “Madam,” he said as he held the chair for Mackenzie.
“Thank you.”
Rafe watched her smile light her eyes and the room. So unexpected, she’d quite literally leaped into his life and turned it topsy-turvy. Her influence should have angered him, but instead, she stirred his alpha instincts to new heights. Why couldn’t he stay away from her? She threatened his mission, his pack...not to mention his freedom. But he wondered if the real danger wasn’t actually to his heart.
That thought surprised him. She was unlike his usual preferences. Not as tall. Not as sophisticated. But she reminded him of a rose. Prickly backbone guarding a delicate beauty. A blossom drawing him nearer, while the thorns warned him away. She was...a challenge.
She frowned. “You’re staring.”
“Yes.”
His answer obviously disconcerted her as a precious blush bloomed on her cheeks, unmarred by her furrowed brow.
“Well, knock it off before I...”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “Before you what?”
She met his gaze boldly. “Before I do something childish like kick you in the shins.”
He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “You are positively delightful.”
“Yeah, a real ball of laughs.” She paused as the server approached with wine.
“The Château Latour Pauillac 1990, Mr. Stone.” He poured a bit for Rafe to savor, and when he nodded, the server filled their glasses.
Rafe watched her stare at the glass and was pleased when she finally lifted it to her lips. Her eyelids drifted closed in appreciation of the opulent flavor.
“I thought this vintage would suit you.”
“I’ve never had it before, but I like it.”
“I’m glad. I took the liberty of ordering in advance. But if you dislike anything, don’t hesitate to say so.”
She set the glass down. “Why are you doing this?”
Her boldness shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. “Wh
at do you mean?”
“This.” She swung her hand out in a small curve. “Dinner...with me?”
“As I recall, I won a wager.”
“You’re smooth, Stone, but not that smooth. Don’t dodge the question. Why did you choose dinner with me as your prize? Is it because of the investigation?”
Prickly and infuriating. “Do you always question others’ motives?”
“I’m a cop. That’s what I do.”
She always hid behind the badge. “And I’m a billionaire. I make and spend money. But I don’t let it run my life. I have other goals, desires, and interests.”
“Challenges to conquer?”
He almost nodded, but the flame in her eyes warned him that answer might not be beneficial to his health. “We aren’t at war...you and I.”
“But we are on opposing sides. I’m not your type, and you’re so far beyond my type, you might as well be in another galaxy.” She picked up her glass. “How much?”
“Excuse me?”
“For the bottle. How much?”
“It’s hardly the most expensive wine available.”
“How...much?”
“Around eight hundred, why?”
Her eyes rounded. “No wonder you’re supposed to drink it slow and savor every drop. Do you know what I have in my fridge? A couple cans of cola at fifty cents a pop and a leftover pizza.”
He grinned. “I knew you liked Italian.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“I’ve heard every word.” He gripped her hand around the glass and slowly moved it toward her mouth. “And I also saw the joy on your face as you discovered something new.” He tilted the glass, letting just a taste trickle across her lips. “You wear the badge, Mackenzie, but it’s only one part of you. I see so much more. That’s the woman I want to know.” He released her hand and brushed a thumb lightly across her bottom lip before sitting back.
He did see more. Her gaze alone showed a riot of emotions, not the least of which was fear. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she chose to run, but then that wasn’t like her. She didn’t allow fear to rule her life. She acknowledged it and fought it every step of the way. He respected that. But he hadn’t meant to reveal so much of his own thoughts about her.
A passing couple paused at their table. “Mackenzie. I never dreamed I’d see you here.”
She didn’t wince, but Rafe could see the light dim from her eyes as her protective walls fell back into place.
“Kenneth...Barbara, good to see you again.” Her tone said just the opposite.
“You must be Rafael Stone.” Kenneth held a hand toward Rafe, who rose to accept the introductions. “I’m Kenneth Hahn. This is my wife, Barbara.”
The blonde beauty offered a perfected smile and a limp, well-manicured hand. “Hello.”
“A pleasure.” Rafe would normally have offered the unexpected guests the courtesy of joining them, but he decided against it after seeing the shallow smile frozen on Mackenzie’s face.
“Barbara, honey, why don’t you go freshen up and wait for me by the door?” After his wife nodded and walked away, he explained, “We just had dinner with the mayor. She’s a bit tired.”
“I’m sure she is,” Mackenzie agreed before taking a long sip of her wine.
“You’ve developed interesting investigative techniques, Mackenzie. I’m sure the mayor will be delighted to hear of your dedication to the case. You’re willingness to devote personal time with an...‘expert’ witness, and in such a fine restaurant, too.” Hahn turned to Rafe. “We finally meet, Mr. Stone. I’ve heard quite a bit about you lately.”
“Is that so?” Rafe returned to his seat beside Mackenzie. He could sense the tension build in her body.
“Yes. Didn’t Mackenzie tell you?” Hahn’s smile was more of a smirk than a grin. “I’m the lead prosecutor on the Robertson murder.”
“Ah, now I see why she’s determined to build a solid foundation of evidence in the case.”
Mackenzie’s lips pressed together.
“The families deserve to see the guilty party brought to justice and not go free because of a technicality, don’t you think?” he asked Hahn, whose smirk had turned into a sneer.
“The guilty party will spend the rest of his life behind bars...or face the executioner. I can assure you of that.”
“Then we are of an accord.” Rafe smiled.
“We are?” The man appeared baffled that what he’d obviously intended as a threat could so easily be converted to imply agreement with a suspected murderer.
“I share similar beliefs in the need for the death penalty...when used justly. I’m sure you and I can also agree on our country’s edict of ‘innocent until proven guilty’.”
“Of course.” Hahn nodded stiffly. “Detective, have a grand evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After the attorney left and their meal was served, Rafe watched and waited for Mackenzie’s defenses to recede, but they didn’t. Her mouth formed a perpetual frown as she pushed her food around her plate. Silence reigned, but soon Rafe had had enough.
“If you can capture your thoughts, tell me.”
“What?”
He set his fork down. “You’ve eaten maybe three bites, which will cause the chef untold amounts of dismay, I’m certain. Your mind is scrambling to parts unknown, and you’re pouting.”
“I do not pout.”
He placed a hand on his heart. “I stand corrected.” When she continued to pout, he said, “You’re concerned about being seen here...with me.”
“No. Yes. I don’t know, damn it.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “Hahn and I have...issues, and being seen here with you complicates things. I really should leave.”
“I never thought of you as a coward.”
Fury flashed in her eyes. He preferred that to the uncertain anxiety he’d seen before.
“I’m not, but you...You think this is some sort of game. Like chess or some medieval fencing match. People like Hahn and you thrive on power plays.” She pointed at him. “Only I don’t have the luxury of playing games. One wrong move and it’s a minor inconvenience to you, sure, but this is not some grand adventure. For me, it’s about two murdered men. It’s my life. My career and reputation are on the line. And this thing with Hahn...” She shook her head and stood. “If he can use this to have me removed from the case, he will. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen. Thanks for the drink, but I’m not for sale. Good night.”
Rafe caught up with her outside as she hailed a cab. When she moved to get in, he grabbed the door and her arm and followed her inside.
“Hey!”
“Drive,” he told the cabby.
“Where to, sir?”
“I don’t give a damn.”
“Stop the cab,” Mackenzie ordered.
“Keep driving. You had your say. Now you’ll listen.” He captured her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Fuck you, Mackenzie. If you think I’m trying to buy you for the price of dinner and wine, you sell yourself too cheap and insult me.”
“Then, what the hell are you doing? Besides wrecking any chance I have of salvaging my investigation? Is that it? You want me off the case as much as Hahn. Do you think you’ll get off on some technicality if you can seduce the investigator?”
“I’m going to say this one last time, and then never again. I did not kill those two men. I did not order their deaths. So I’ve no reason to need a technicality to prove my innocence.”
“Fine—”
He gripped her shoulders. “I’m not finished. I’m tired of you putting this investigation between us and using your badge like some damn shield, but you’re wrong if you think I want you off the case.”
“Why?”
“I know what solving this case means to you. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. Whether or not you can trust in me, I do believe in you.”
“Then let me do my job. Don’t jeopardize it.” She looked at the driver. “Stop
the cab.”
“Keep driving,” he ordered. The cabby shrugged, kept his foot on the gas and the meter running. “I never thought to see you run from anything, but you’re doing just that. You’re afraid to give us a chance.”
She tried to knock his hands away. “Don’t you get it? There is no ‘us’. There’s the case. I’m not putting it between us. It’s always been there. The case is the only thing that’s important.”
“No. It’s not the only thing. And if there is no ‘us’...” He pulled her toward him. “Prove it.” He pressed his lips to hers. She tensed and flattened her hands on his chest. He continued to play with her mouth until her fingers curled into a tight grip on his shirt. His tongue slipped passed her lips as her defenses crumbled, and she leaned into him.
His need turned feral, but he held it in check. Barely. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped an arm around her as he felt her fingers weave through his hair. His hand slid up one long leg while his mouth plundered her warm depths.
“I can’t deny this any more than you can,” he whispered before claiming her mouth again. “I feel it.” He blazed a trail down the slender column of her neck. “You feel it.” Her head fell back across his arm. He nibbled her ear. “I want you.”
He pulled away to catch his breath, cradling her in his arms, trying to calm the fires that raged through his body. Orange beams of light swiped through the car’s interior with each passing streetlamp. He needed her, but he didn’t want to take her in a damn cab...with an audience. The driver’s eyes shifted from the rearview mirror to the street ahead.
“Not here. Take us back to the restaurant.”
He watched her eyes lighten, her breathing calm, as the haze of passion dimmed. When Mackenzie sat up, without a word, a piece of paper fell out of her pocket. She snatched up the note and glanced at her watch.
“No. I have to get back to the station and pick up my car.” She gave the driver the address as she slipped from Rafe’s lap.
Before he could question her about the mysterious message, she gripped his hand, and he found himself staring at their interlaced fingers. Except for her brief show of sympathy over the death of his sister, this was the first time she’d willingly reached out to him. It was a start.
Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Page 15