If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

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If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 23

by Shiloh Walker


  “Fuck, yes.” He gripped her hips and shifted his gaze downward, watching.

  Holding his cock in one hand, she slowly sank down onto him.

  Law, his entire body shuddering, watched as their bodies merged … became one.

  One … complete. Whole.

  “Damn …” Nia muttered, staring at him from under her lashes as she took him completely inside. She arched her back, the movement lifting her breasts.

  Law swore, reaching up and curling a hand around her neck. “Come here.” He pulled her close, pressing his brow against hers and rolling his hips upward. Slick and tight, so damn good. “Damn it, you feel good.”

  She hummed low in her throat, that smug, female smile on her lips. The one that drove him insane. “You feel pretty nice yourself.”

  He rocked against her again. She clenched around him and he shuddered, stroking a hand down her back to grip one hip. “Be still,” he growled as she started to ride him.

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Nia, be still,” he growled. Already he could feel it building inside him, even though he’d just climaxed. Skin to skin—damn it, it felt like heaven, like nirvana.

  Nia laughed and continued that slow, lazy stroking. “I don’t wanna be still. Didn’t I tell you I was going to drive you nuts?”

  “You’ve already done it.”

  She did a little twist with her hips, used her internal muscles to milk him and Law damn near lost it then. With a snarled curse, he twisted and put her under him, catching her wrists in his hands, stretching them over her head.

  “What happened to me being on top?” she asked, her eyes glinting.

  “You had your turn. Now it’s mine.” He dipped his head, bit her lip, and then shifted. Letting go of her wrists, he settled on his knees, gripping her hips. He stared down at her, watching as she stroked a hand up her torso, teased one nipple. “Witch. You’re a witch.”

  “Hmmm.” She smiled at him, her lashes shielding her eyes.

  He rocked against her, moving slow and easy, trying to ignore the vicious, driving hunger—the need that all but screamed in his head, in his blood. He used his thumb to stroke her clit, watching as her lashes flickered, as her breath caught.

  She tightened around him and a flush settled on her cheeks. “Law.”

  She closed one hand around his wrist, twisted her hips, tried to move faster.

  “My turn, remember?”

  She shifted, moved around, a smile curling her lips. “How about our turn?”

  As she sat up, sitting astride his hips, he gripped her ass. “Our turn. We drive each other crazy.”

  “Sounds like that’s how it’s been from day one, hasn’t it?” She draped her arms around his neck and started to ride him, as he arched into her.

  Her cries grew ragged and his hands gripped her tighter, leaving faint red marks. The need inside him raged out of control, the need screaming louder. The need to take, to keep, to protect, to mark—

  He’d had a need to be gentle, had wanted this to be slow and lazy, as though something sweet and easy could take away the misery of the day. It wasn’t quite the sweet and tender seduction he’d hoped for, but as the climax rushed up on them, claiming them both hard and demanding, as she rested her forehead to his, their gazes locked, her mouth seeking out his … everything else fell away.

  In those moments, nothing else existed but each other.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  “MAN, I REALLY DON’T WANT TO TALK TO ROZ,” NIA muttered as she climbed out of Law’s car.

  He came around and joined her by the hood, rubbing her back. “Why?”

  Shooting him a sidelong scowl, she asked, “Have you forgotten the mess that was made of my cabin?”

  He jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “Hell, that wasn’t your fault.”

  “Doesn’t matter if it’s my fault or not.” She sighed. “I still feel responsible.”

  He eased his hand up her neck, massaging the tense muscles there. “But you’re not. Roz isn’t going to blame you because some psychotic bastard went postal in your cabin, beautiful.”

  She frowned, shook her head. “If you say so. Seems to me that lady is sometimes a little high-strung.”

  Law grimaced. “Well, she can be that. But she’s not stupid, either. She knows you can’t control other people.”

  Nia knew that. But she still wasn’t looking forward to this. She wasn’t going to try to get her money back on the cabin—she’d signed an agreement, she’d honor it. Roz could keep the money, but there was no way Nia was going to stay at the cabin. Law was more than willing to let her stay with him and she felt safer there anyway. Plus, the sleeping arrangements were far more appealing.

  Glancing back, she grinned as she saw the county car back there, one of the deputies climbing out. “So is he going to be telling everybody that I’m shacking up with you?”

  “Nah. Ethan won’t.” Law shot him a look over his shoulder and then slid Nia a smirk. “But you should probably know that Roz more than likely will. It will be all over town by the end of the day. That what you want?”

  Nia shrugged. “I couldn’t care less.” She caught his hand in hers. “What about you? Is it going to cause problems for you?”

  He snorted. “Hell, no. Half the town thinks I’m either a drug dealer or that I run some sort of white slavery ring—or something along those lines. Other rumors include that I’m the bastard son of some rich mogul in New York and that’s why I don’t have to work and mingle with the common folk.”

  “You’ve managed to keep them from finding out what you do for this long? How?”

  He shrugged. “I just don’t tell them. My agent cashes my check and it gets deposited into a national bank, so it’s not like I need to use their banking services. They can’t figure it out that way. And small-town gossips have a lot more fun cooking up ridiculous stories like me dealing drugs than something as mundane as me being a writer.”

  “There’s nothing mundane about being a writer.” Nia shook her head as they mounted the steps.

  Law laughed. “Oh, yeah? Ask a writer. It’s a job, Nia. It’s got high points, low points, like any other job. I still work my ass off—there’s nothing glamorous or exciting about it. People think otherwise, but at the end of the day, it’s still a job.” He opened the door for her and stepped aside so she could enter.

  She stroked a hand across his belly. “I think it’s a sexy job—you gotta have brains to do it, right? Brains are sexy.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve met a few idiots,” he muttered. Then he caught her hand and squeezed. “Shush now.”

  She caught sight of the sitting room and some of the guests there. Smirking, she reached up with her free hand and zipped her lips. “I guess this serves as appropriate blackmail material, doesn’t it?” she teased in a low voice.

  “Shit, not you, too.” He groaned under his breath, leading her down a long hallway.

  Nia glanced around, curious, before shooting him a look. “Not me, too, what?”

  “Hell, Lena’s favorite threat is that she’ll blab all over town.”

  “Why’s that such a problem?”

  “Because if I wanted everybody knowing what I do, I wouldn’t use a pen name,” he muttered. He tugged open a door marked Private, ducking inside without a qualm.

  Nia arched a brow. “Well, I guess I don’t need to ask if you’re familiar with the place, do I?”

  “Nope.” It was another hallway, but he stopped at the first door—clearly an office.

  And there was Roz, sitting down at a desk, talking on the phone. She smiled at them and gestured to the couch, holding up a finger—one minute, she seemed to be saying.

  “Look, I don’t care if you have to send it out on a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer, you promised you’d have me my delivery by two, and I expect it to be here,” Roz said, her voice cool and breezy.

  She rolled her eyes, paused.

  Nia leaned over and murmured, “Shoul
d we come back?”

  “No.” Law sat down, tugged Nia down to sit with him. “She’s always either juggling calls, brides, or her husband … something. Roz doesn’t do boredom well. If she only thinks she’ll be a minute, that’s all she’ll need.”

  Then he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ll feel better when this is over, anyway.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Something silvery flashed in the corner of her eye and she glanced back at Roz, watched as the woman slid something from one hand to another.

  A bracelet.

  A fist reached up.

  Grabbed her around the throat.

  Law felt Nia tense next to him, although he wasn’t sure why. He reached up, rested a hand on her neck, rubbed the tense muscles there, not that it did any good.

  She was still sitting there. Tense and stiff, getting more so by the second.

  Staring at Roz as though she’d never seen her before.

  Leaning over, he murmured, “Are you okay?”

  She shot him a glassy-eyed look. “I … um …”

  “Okay, then …”

  Roz hung up the phone and Law looked at the other woman. “How are you two doing?” She flashed them a wide smile and winked. “Don’t tell me you’re here to set up a wedding.”

  “No. Nia needed …”

  Nia shot up off the couch. “Is there a bathroom?”

  Her voice, thin and strained, clued him in that something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Her pupils were mere pinpricks, all but lost in the dark gold of her eyes.

  Standing up, he caught her hand. “Nia, what’s wrong, baby?”

  “Just need the bathroom,” she said, her voice a faint whisper. She stared at him, but Law could have sworn she was seeing through him.

  “Use mine,” Roz said, giving her a gentle smile. “It’s just through that door.”

  Nia pulled away and headed toward the bathroom, her normally graceful moves awkward and jerky.

  What the …

  Roz arched a brow as the door swung shut behind her. “Everything okay?” she asked. She dumped something on her desk and pushed up, moving out from behind her desk to the small wet bar. Law liked to tease her about it, but he’d seen—from a distance—a few of the brides she’d worked with. More than a few of them probably were easier to handle if they had a glass of wine on occasion, not that many of them got into Roz’s private office. She probably had the liquor back here just so she could handle some of her bride-zillas.

  “I don’t know. Hey, you got whiskey, right?”

  Roz lifted a brow. “A little early for you to drink, isn’t it?”

  He scowled. “Me, but not you? And it’s not for me. Give me a whiskey and Coke—I think she might need it.” For whatever reason.

  “Hmm. You might be right. She looks like something freaked her out real fast.” She mixed up a whiskey and Coke and then grinned as she handed it over. “Maybe she doesn’t realize I do weddings and she thought you were here for one.”

  Law snorted. “She doesn’t spook that easy.” Still, keeping it casual, he skimmed a look around the room. “Can’t be anything in here. Even I’m not going to go ghost-white at the sight of a wedding dress, Roz.”

  He didn’t see anything. At least, he didn’t think he did. Roz’s office looked like it always did—a state of organized chaos. Glancing around the room, he frowned.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The bracelet—

  Bent over the sink, Nia sucked in a desperate breath of air.

  Hell. It wasn’t like the bracelet she’d seen in the pictures had been unique. Just the inscription engraved on the inside. And even that wasn’t exactly a one-of-a-kind twist of phrase, right? She hadn’t even seen it close.

  But her hands were sweating.

  Her gut was roiling.

  Adrenaline crashed through her so hard and fast and she could hear the blood roaring in her ears.

  The bracelet. Damn it. She had to see that damn bracelet. Had it belonged to Kathleen Hughes … the girl who died in Chicago? Was it the bracelet the killer had taken from her body? Why did Roz have it …?

  Nia’s hands clenched on the counter.

  Roz was married.

  A man’s face flashed through her mind.

  The name eluded her.

  But his face didn’t.

  Friendly eyes, Nia thought. He had friendly eyes.

  Ezra watched as Lena hung up the phone.

  The tension in her shoulders told him she wasn’t pleased about this.

  He didn’t give a shit if she was pleased or not. He would be spending a good, long while dealing with his crime scene and he couldn’t leave her alone either.

  She had just about gone through the roof when he told her he didn’t want her alone for the next week or so. He’d been being conservative, although he didn’t plan on letting her know that.

  Yeah, as nervous as he was about things, he knew she valued her independence.

  So he’d played hard on the guilt factors and her desire for privacy—he could either spend so much time worrying over her, or he could put a deputy in the house, or she could spend today, at least, at the Inn with Roz, whether she was working or not. Reilly had been the initial suggestion but Law wasn’t answering the phone—Lena had gone with Roz out of default.

  Ezra wasn’t too happy with that suggestion, but the Inn was one big place that was rarely empty, especially in June. So it wasn’t bad middle ground—Lena wasn’t with him, wasn’t with Reilly, but she wasn’t alone, either.

  As she turned to face him, she had a brittle smile on her face. “Are you happy now, Daddy? I’ve got my babysitter lined up.”

  “Yeah, I’m happy.” Then, trying to lighten her mood a little, he reached and slid an arm around her waist. “But if you’re going to call me Daddy, can you put on a short skirt or something?”

  She snorted. “No. Pervert.” But some of the tension seeped out of her. “I hate this, you know.”

  “I know. But it won’t last forever.” Just until I find a killer … and it may take awhile …

  His gut said otherwise, though. This guy wasn’t going to wait much longer to make a move. Most likely toward Nia. Ezra wasn’t taking chances, not with his wife.

  Turning his head, he pressed his lips to her brow. “Come on. Let’s get you over to the Inn.”

  Focused on Nia, worrying about Nia, Law barely heard it when the phone rang.

  The drink in his hand was sweating and he set it aside, shoved a hand through his hair.

  “What …?”

  “Huh?” He glanced up, saw Roz on the phone. She was frowning, staring off in the distance. She glanced at him and shook her head. Then, abruptly, she left the office. He could hear the sound of her heels clicking down the hardwood floor.

  As the sound grew more and more distant, he stood up and moved to the bathroom door. He almost knocked. Decided not to. He turned the handle, a little surprised when it opened for him.

  Nia stood at the sink, head bent, eyes closed. She shook. From head to toe, she shook.

  “Nia?”

  She slid him a quick look and then, just as quickly, her gaze bounced away. “I …” She stopped, licked her lips. “Where’s Roz?”

  “Slipped out. Somebody called.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She shook her head. “We need to go,” she whispered, her voice thready and weak.

  “Okay. We can talk to her about the cabin later.”

  Nia laughed. The harsh, hysterical sound of it made him hurt—it was like a dagger scraping over the exposed flesh of his heart. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, ask her what had scared her so badly in the past few minutes.

  But now wasn’t the time.

  Here wasn’t the place.

  Stepping aside, he said, “After you.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile, shuffled out past him. Lingering by the desk, she shot it a look. He watched as her gaze fastened on something. But he couldn�
�t tell what.

  Her shoulders stiffened, her breathing hitched.

  “Nia …”

  She swallowed. “Can you go ask Roz when would be a good time for me to call?” she blurted out.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  The smile on her face took a decided turn for the pathetic and although he knew, he knew she was up to something, he nodded. Hell, he couldn’t figure out what she was up to if he didn’t let her do it, right?

  He headed out of the office, keeping his steps light … and his gaze focused on a narrow ornamental mirror that hung over a table just outside Roz’s office. Nia barely waited until he’d turned the corner before she reached out and pocketed something off Roz’s desk.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the silvery bracelet Roz had been fiddling with.

  It was almost two hours later than normal when Ezra got into the office, but he didn’t give a damn. He’d been here until almost midnight last night and he knew he’d be spending far too much time in this place for the foreseeable future, as well.

  So when he caught Ms. Tuttle’s dark look, he scowled at her. “Damn it, don’t lay into me. Did you hear the hell I had to deal with yesterday?”

  To his surprise, she gave him a faint smile. “Actually, I did. And that look wasn’t for you.” She sighed and looked away, shaking her head. “It’s for all the vultures who’ve been in here, demanding to know what’s going on … you wouldn’t believe the questions I’ve had to deal with.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” he muttered.

  He headed toward his office but paused, looked back at her. “It’s probably going to get worse, once word gets out, Miz T. You up for it?”

  “Please.” She adjusted her glasses and gave him an arch look. “Don’t be insulting, Sheriff. It doesn’t become you.”

  He smiled at her and headed into the office, leaving the door open. She’d be in shortly with the messages he’d missed for the morning, along with any news that had turned up. It was only 9:30, but in small-town America, that was pretty damn late, he knew.

  He should have been here before the crack of dawn, but he wasn’t forsaking his wife’s safety for the job, and getting here at dawn wasn’t going to get him answers any sooner, he knew.

 

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