When I'm With You: The Complete Novel
Page 42
Shane suspected that Mays would have spilled names to save his own neck, and his instinct was rarely wrong in such matters. He had hoped that he’d sing one name loud and clear—that of the current chief of the Organized Crime Division of the CPD, Randall Moody.
“Did they tell you that Huey left a note?” he asked Laura. He’d spoken to the commander in charge of the precinct where Huey’s body had been found and knew the basic details of the case.
“Yes,” she replied.
He took in her unruffled composure. Shane sighed, ineffectively venting an almost fourteen-year-long frustration at the sight.
“His body will still be examined by one of the Bureau’s agents at the crime lab, but as long as everything checks out with their report and the note is genuine, there won’t be a formal investigation. It’ll be ruled a clear-cut case of suicide. Picking you up on the street just now wasn’t official business. It was a spur of the moment thing,” he mumbled after a few seconds when he saw her smooth brow wrinkle in puzzlement. “I saw the media charging you. I spend half my life escaping from those jackals.”
A small smile tilted her full lips. “Still saving me from the bad guys, Shane?”
“That would require you allowing me to save you, wouldn’t it? You’ve swum way too deep now, sweetheart,” he snarled.
He paused when he noticed the glaze of shock in her wide eyes. He inhaled slowly and fixed his stare on the road. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him?
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. Not tonight.” He felt her gaze on him, making his skin prickle, but she didn’t speak for several moments. Finally she cleared her throat.
“I suppose they would have told you that he . . . he did it in his car?” she asked. “Another police officer found him. Huey had parked in a deserted area near the Cal-Sag Channel. The police officer thought the car had been abandoned and went to investigate. Huey was still alive but unconscious. He never woke up.”
“Who was the officer?”
“Josh Hannigan, from the Sixth Precinct.”
“Do you know him?”
Laura shook her head.
He peered at her suspiciously through the darkness. Laura came from a family of cops. Her uncle Derrick—her guardian—had been a twice-decorated sergeant. Her older brother, Joey, was a vice detective.
And, of course, her husband had been a cop—though Huey’d made a mockery of the title. Now it looked as if Joey might be entangled in the whole affair as well.
And Laura sat in the midst of it all, silent and inexplicable. Who was she protecting with her aloofness? Her husband? Joey?
Herself?
He blinked to clear the blurriness from his sleep-deprived eyes and took stock of his surroundings. He realized he’d been driving south on Lake Shore Drive without a clue as to where he was going. He got over into the right lane and narrowly made the closest exit.
Joey Vasquez might be a person of interest in the CPD theft ring case, but he also was an important part of Shane’s history and Laura’s only living immediate family. Joey and he hadn’t seen much of each other since Shane had returned to his hometown, this time to head up the Chicago offices of the FBI. Still, he knew that Joey lived in Hyde Park. He ducked his head and tried to make out the street sign as he passed to get his bearings.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now. I’ll take you over to Joey’s,” he muttered.
“No, not to Joey’s. Take me to my house, please.”
“Laura, you just—”
“Joey is out of town,” she interrupted calmly. She noticed his skeptical glance. “I’m telling the truth, Shane. He and Shelly took a van-load of kids to Springfield for the high school girls state volleyball championship. Carlotta is playing in the finals.”
“Carlotta cannot be in high school,” Shane proclaimed flatly, referring to Joey’s daughter.
His gaze caught and stuck on the tantalizing image of Laura’s small, wistful smile. “She’s a junior at Marie Curie High School.”
Shane shook his head. You could ignore your advancing age as much as you wanted, but the next generation refused to allow you to remain secure in your denial.
“You’re thirty-four years old,” he said as he drove down the silent, dimly lit city street.
“Since November,” Laura replied in a hushed voice.
It took him a half a minute to realize that she was crying. She never made a sound as she stared straight ahead, the tears clinging like ice crystals against her smooth cheek.
***
Click here for more books by Beth Kery
Beth Kery lives in Chicago where she juggles the demands of her career, her love of the city and the arts, and a busy family life. Her writing today reflects her passion for all of the above. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Because You Are Mine. Find out more about Beth and her books at BethKery.com or Facebook.com/Beth.Kery.
When I’m With You
PART I: WHEN WE TOUCH
PART II: WHEN YOU DEFY ME
PART III: WHEN YOU TEASE ME
PART IV: WHEN I’M BAD
PART V: WHEN YOU SUBMIT
PART VI: WHEN YOU TRUST ME
PART VII: WHEN I NEED YOU
Because You Are Mine
PART I: BECAUSE YOU TEMPT ME
PART II: BECAUSE I COULD NOT RESIST
PART III: BECAUSE YOU HAUNT ME
PART IV: BECAUSE YOU MUST LEARN
PART V: BECAUSE I SAID SO
PART VI: BECAUSE YOU TORMENT ME
PART VII: BECAUSE I NEED TO
PART VIII: BECAUSE I AM YOURS
Berkley Sensation titles by Beth Kery
WICKED BURN
DARING TIME
Berkley Heat titles by Beth Kery
SWEET RESTRAINT
PARADISE RULES
RELEASE
EXPLOSIVE
One Night of Passion series
ADDICTED TO YOU (WRITING AS BETHANY KANE)
EXPOSED TO YOU
One Night of Passion Specials
BOUND TO YOU
CAPTURED BY YOU
WHEN I’M WITH YOU
Part EIGHT
WHEN WE ARE ONE
Beth Kery
Copyright © 2013 by Beth Kery
The right of Beth Kery to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Published by arrangement with The Berkley Publishing Group, a member of Penguin Group (USA), Inc.
First published in this Ebook edition by Headline Publishing Group in 2013
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN 978 1 4722 0416 5
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
www.headline.co.uk
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright
About the Author
Also By
About the Book
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Because You Are Mine . . .
Wicked Burn
All it takes is . . . One Night of Passion . . .
Beth Kery lives in Chicago where
she juggles the demands of her career, her love of the city and the arts, and a busy family life. Her writing today reflects her passion for all of the above. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Because You Are Mine. Find out more about Beth and her books at BethKery.com or Facebook.com/Beth.Kery.
By Beth Kery
Because You Are Mine
Wicked Burn
Daring Time
Sweet Restraint
Paradise Rules
Release
Explosive
One Night of Passion series
*Addicted To You
*Bound To You (e-novella)
Captured By You (e-novella)
Exposed By You
*previously published under the pseudonym Bethany Kane
The conclusion of Beth Kery’s unforgettable eight-part serial novel for fans of FIFTY SHADES OF GREY, BARED TO YOU and BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE of a man and woman inextricably bound by the scandalous secrets of the past and by the sexual transgressions that still fuel their uncontrollable desire . . .
In the luxury of Ian Noble’s penthouse, he, Francesca, Lucien and Elise gather for an evening that begins in pleasure and ends in a shattering confrontation – one that finally reveals the secrets of Lucien’s past. And, at Elise’s impulsive urging, the bitter truth that Lucien has hidden for so long is finally exposed. But the reality is more soul tearing than Elise imagined – leaving her with the guilt that she pushed the man she loves too far.
When both Lucien and Ian go to London, Elise is left in self-doubt. Surely Lucien is furious at her for tipping his hand so impetuously – it has been his greatest fear since he met her. With a heavy heart, Elise makes a heartrending decision for both of them. But Lucien has one more reveal for Elise, one that could make or break a relationship that has consumed the both of them. One that could change their futures for ever . . .
Chapter Fifteen
Elise raised her eyebrows in delighted surprise the next evening when she accompanied Francesca into the kitchen and saw “Ian’s favorite meal” being checked by Mrs. Hanson.
“Roast beef and vegetables and Yorkshire pudding,” Mrs. Hanson said with an impish grin when Elise leaned over the roasting pan and inhaled deeply of the delicious aroma.
“I was expecting something much more chic, given we’re talking about Ian Noble. I’m pleasantly surprised,” Elise said, grinning. Francesca laughed behind her and Mrs. Hanson smiled.
“Well, perhaps I should have specified that it was Ian’s favorite when he was a twelve-year-old,” Mrs. Hanson said.
“It still is. And it’s quickly becoming mine,” Francesca said. “Mrs. Hanson is a wonderful cook.”
“Will you call me when you start to prepare the pudding? I’d love to watch you, and help out if you’ll let me,” Elise asked Mrs. Hanson, her mouth watering. She was suddenly famished. Ian had called Lucien earlier and asked if it was all right if they arrived an hour later than their original plan. In addition to the later hour, she never really had caught up on her eating since last night. Lucien had gotten an emergency call from Monsieur Atale in regard to the Three Kings hotels in Paris this morning, and Elise had gone for a long run along Lake Michigan while he worked. When she’d returned, her body had been too overstimulated and overheated to eat. Lucien had been too busy with the Three Kings accounts to take a break as well. Besides, she’d sensed his preoccupation, his somberness, and wondered how much of it had to do with what he’d said last night just before they’d fallen asleep.
A sense of familiar uneasiness went through her at the thought.
Was he withdrawing from her, by chance? Flinching away from the intimacy they’d shared, and the truth he’d almost revealed to her, the truth she suspected related to his mother? Every time she thought of the thread of pain in his voice, her heart seemed to squeeze in anguish. Why didn’t he just end his painful wait and speak to Ian Noble to find out where his mother was once and for all? It must be torture for him to be so patient when his prize was so close. It was increasingly becoming unbearable for her, this cautious waiting.
“By all means.” Mrs. Hanson’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as she returned her gorgeous roast to the oven. “I’ll come and find you in a little bit. But it’s really nothing special. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m a chef. My nose is as much an expert as my tongue, and I can already tell this is going to be very special,” Elise assured.
Francesca hastened to the refrigerator, where she extricated two bottles of club soda. Elise had turned down a glass of wine when they’d first arrived, explaining she was a little dehydrated from her long run.
“Come on,” Francesca said. “I think Lucien and Ian went into Ian’s office—Lucien is showing Ian some online photos of the new property he bought in the South Loop—and there’s something I want to show you in there,” she added as she twisted off the cap from the soda and handed it to Elise.
“What?” Elise asked, following her out of the enormous kitchen and down a wide, gallery-like hallway.
“You said you wanted to see more of my paintings? There are several hung in Ian’s office—including The Cat That Walks By Himself. Remember, I mentioned that one to you?”
Elise recalled how Francesca had told her about unknowingly painting Ian on a desolate city street years before she’d ever met the elusive billionaire entrepreneur in person. She recognized the paneled door Francesca led her through. This was the room where she’d come upon Lucien listening to Ian on the phone that night. They entered a large room lined with stained walnut bookcases filled with volumes. Two comfortable-looking leather couches faced each other. A large desk and a long, conference-like table had a laptop on it along with a decanter of wine and a glass. Ian sat in front of the computer screen while Lucien stood looking over his shoulder, a glass of bloodred wine in his hand.
Elise had noticed that Ian had seemed preoccupied and tense when they arrived, but he currently laughed unrestrainedly at something Lucien had said. Francesca gave her a quick, pleased smile before she led her over to the fireplace mantel. Elise stared with wide-eyed wonder at Francesca’s painting.
“I can’t get over how talented you are,” Elise praised sincerely. “And to think . . . you painted Ian all those years before you ever even met, and he recognized himself and bought the painting without knowing you. Talk about fate, the way you two ended up together. It’s very romantic.”
“A more unlikely couple you wouldn’t find anywhere. And yet . . . once we got together, nothing could have been more right,” she said for Elise’s ears only.
“I suppose you could say the same of Lucien and me,” Elise said, looking back at the two men as they chatted. Lucien glanced up and caught her staring. He gave her that small, secret smile that always made her cheeks heat and her heartbeat escalate.
Oh Lord. She really did have it bad.
“You and he actually have similar backgrounds, though,” Francesca pointed out quietly.
“Yes, but he’s the most disciplined man I know. And I’m about as controlled as a tornado,” Elise murmured before she took a sip of soda.
Francesca laughed warmly. “Somehow, I suspect that’s precisely what Lucien loves about you. Sometimes oil and water really do mix for the best results.”
Elise blinked at the word love but she quickly hurried to hide her discomposure. “In Lucien’s and my case, the more apt analogy is more like a match and dynamite,” Elise muttered under her breath.
Francesca chuckled, but her gaze was fixed on Ian across the room. She wore a worried expression.
“Is Ian doing all right?” Elise asked delicately.
Francesca sighed. “He’s had a lot on his mind lately. I told you Lucien has a good effect on him.”
Elise glanced at the men, glad to see Ian lean back in such a relaxed manner and nod in interest. She and Francesca wa
lked across the large room to the long, oval table.
“I understand Lucien has already found himself a very talented executive chef for his new restaurant,” Ian said with just a hint of a smile as they approached. Elise was learning that for Ian Noble, that ghost of a grin was the equivalent of beaming for the average person.
Francesca looked around, a delighted expression on her face. “You?”
Elise nodded.
“Really? How exciting. Why didn’t you say something?” she said accusingly.
“Well, we’re still in talks,” Elise said, meeting Lucien’s warm gaze. “And I still have to finish my stage. But I think all the details can be worked through. I’m no fool, to turn down such a wonderful opportunity.” His eyebrows arched slightly as if in interest at what she’d said. She hadn’t been so forthright with him but had hedged, worried she was taking advantage of his generosity. Elise broke into a smile.
Lucien shrugged negligently, bringing her attention down to his broad shoulders draped in a bluish-gray button-down shirt that did marvelous things for his eyes. “I’m the one who took advantage of a wonderful opportunity.”
“Lucien’s been telling me about your concept for the restaurant. Sounds very interesting,” Ian said as the phone on his desk began to ring. He made no move to answer it. “I have a friend from my college days who is a recovering alcoholic, and he’s told me point-blank he finds the sight of alcohol and people drinking challenging. I worry at times, meeting him out at restaurants. And as you can see”—he nodded toward the well-stocked sideboard against the wall that contained several crystal decanters of cognac, brandy, and bourbon—“this is hardly a safe meeting environment, either. I have to ask Mrs. Hanson to move all the alcohol before I have him here.”