A Game of Deception

by Loreth Anne White

  He gave in with a small moan as he thrust his finger up into her. Jenna arched her hips up desperate for more.

  He began to move his hand, sliding another finger into her, teasing her sensitive swollen nub with his thumb until a pressure began to build low in her chest, screaming for release. And Lex lost any last shred of control. His breathing ragged, he yanked her dress down over her hips, tearing her scrap of G-string aside as she fumbled urgently with his zipper, her tongue slicking and tangling with his.

  He positioned himself between her legs, his knees opening her thighs wide, and with one sharp thrust, he was inside her. Jenna gasped, arching her back as her body accommodated him, and she smiled against his mouth. “Mmm, that emcee sure wasn’t kidding about your loaded weapon, agent,” she murmured, moving her pelvis against his.

  * * *

  He watched the upstairs window from the bushes.

  He knew they were in there. He’d seen their shadows against the blinds earlier, before the agent came outside to drink beer.

  Probably screwing each other now.

  The idea agitated him, made him hard. Hot.

  It had taken him some time to get around the highway pileup she’d left in her wake. Bitch. He’d guessed she would run straight here, to her cop. Well, she got away this time.

  He’d have to find another way now, be smarter. He grew even hotter, harder at the thought—because when he did get her, he was going to do a lot more than just kill her. He was going to have her just like that cop was probably doing her now.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jenna met his fervor, arching her pelvis to him as he thrust deep into her, heightening every nerve in his body, driving him higher, hotter, until she stiffened suddenly, then shattered around him with a cry, her nails digging into his back. It drove Lex past the point of restraint—he yanked her hips up hard against his, and released into her, his vision spiraling in a wild vortex of dark sensual pleasure as she wrapped her legs tight around him.

  They lay hot in the moonlit shadows, tangled in sheets, entwined with each other, Lex going soft inside her. And in his heart he felt whole. At the same time, he knew he’d failed.

  He’d allowed himself to be sucked over the cliff edge, and he was wildly free-falling. Because now that he’d done this, now that he’d made love to Jenna, he wanted more.

  He wanted it all.

  And that scared him. Because maybe she didn’t.

  The darkness turned to dawn, and the morning sun began to stream lemon-yellow through the blinds, another hot desert day dawning, and Lex had to get to work. He was going straight to talk to Quinn and have himself removed from this homicide investigation. Lex prayed it wasn’t too late already, that he could still hide from Quinn, from prosecutors and defense lawyers down the road, what had transpired between him and Jenna Rothchild while he was still assigned to the case.

  He’d tell Quinn he’d elicited information from Jenna about her father that would secure a warrant to search Harold Rothchild’s estate and bring him in for further formal questioning. Quinn would be good with that.

  And Lex would need to step back from Jenna for a while in order to maintain the charade.

  But at the same time, she was going to need him. The road ahead was going to be real rough because she was going to be a witness to the fact her father was obstructing justice. Lex couldn’t leave her alone now as much as he had to step away for the case to proceed successfully.

  He cursed to himself.

  Excusing himself from this high-profile homicide investigation was also going to be a career killer. That he’d have to swallow. But Jenna, he had no idea how to handle. He swore again—what in the hell had he done?

  One choice was clear—the first move. Get reassigned.

  “Jenna—”

  She opened her eyes, smiled up at him, brown eyes twinkling. Sated, naked, warm and beautiful. In his bed, his home. And she’d sneaked her way right into his heart—jaded old fool that he was, Lex couldn’t believe he was daring to hope.

  “What is it, Lex?”

  He was going to tell her he wanted to make a go of it. But suddenly anxiety wedged into his throat, and he didn’t know how to say it all and felt like an ass. What if she really wasn’t on the same page as him? Maybe she was too young for him, had too much life in front of her yet to commit to him. And how stupid it would sound to tell her he loved her after a few days. Who fell in love after a few days?

  Seems he did.

  He got up, wrapped a towel around his waist, sun already warm on his skin. “Want some breakfast?” was all he could think of to say.

  Something shifted in her eyes. She watched him, as if waiting for him to say something more, deeper, something about what had transpired physically between them. Anything.

  “I need to get dressed,” he said, instead. “Got to get into the office.” He wavered. “I make a good omelet—” But before he could complete the sentence, angry barking erupted from downstairs. They both looked at each other, shocked almost, to remember that Napoleon was still in the house. Jenna jerked up in the bed, pulling the sheet over herself. “Napoleon?” she called.

  He growled and barked again. Jenna’s eyes shot to Lex. “Someone’s down there. Naps never barks like that unless something has spooked him.”

  Lex charged downstairs. Napoleon was growling and yipping along the glass door that looked out onto the porch. Lex took his weapon from his gun safe, slotted in a clip, chambered a round and slid the door open. He stepped barefoot onto the porch. Napoleon bulleted out at his feet, rushing over the grass to a line of trees and shrubs along the boundary. He started growling and snuffling exactly where Lex thought he’d heard something rustling the night before. Jenna appeared on the porch behind him, his robe wrapped around her. He motioned for her to get back inside quickly.

  Lex made his way over the grass, crouched down and examined the soft dry soil under the trees. Prints. And they looked to have been made by a male, about a size eleven shoe. Someone had been standing here. Lex glanced back at the house.

  Whoever had been lurking under this tree would’ve seen him on the porch last night. He needed to get someone to look at these prints. He dragged his hand over his hair. What was he going to say? That he’d been making love to Jenna Rothchild instead of bringing her in after the attack on her life last night?

  God, he’d been a fool. This could have been her attacker, right here, watching.

  Lex swore softly, made his way back over the grass to the house.

  “What was it?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  “Nothing.”

  “But Napoleon never—”

  “I want you to get dressed, Jenna. Take some of my clothes. And I’m going to call Perez to come pick you up. She can take you in, help you file a report—”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to get myself off this case.”

  “What…do you mean?”

  He took her shoulders. “Jenna, this is going to get real complicated between me and you. It appears your father not only withheld those death threats but he also lied about the fire at your grandfather’s South American office. We’re likely going to see him being charged for obstruction of justice at minimum. And depending on how this all plays out down the road, and what else we learn from him in questioning, you may end up being a witness for the prosecution—”

  She blanched, reaching for the back of a chair, the implications—the full brunt of what she’d done—hitting her square in the harsh light of morning. She wiped her brow with the back of her wrist, shaking slightly. She was also perspiring, probably still in shock. Geez, he should never have slept with her. “Jenna, listen—”

  She jerked out from under his touch. “Look, intellectually, I know this all has to happen, Lex. But…can you…maybe leave me out of it? I mean, get a warrant for those notes without naming me or letting him know I betrayed him?”

  “I can’t do that, Jenna.”

  Panic mounted in her fac
e. “Lex, you have to, please. I told you everything. I came clean. I just don’t want him to know I—”

  “Do you realize what you are asking me to do? I’m a law enforcement agent, Jenna.”

  She grasped his hand. “Please, Lex. For me.”

  “Listen, we need you, Jenna. Your father is withholding serious evidence in connection with murder. What he did, what he hid from police, could have gotten you killed. For all we know, he’s up to something that did get Candace killed. He needs to tell us what happened in the past, with that ring, or more people could get hurt. And we’re going to need your testimony to do what we need to.”

  She looked nauseous. “And…and you’re taking yourself off the case?”

  “I must.”

  “So you’re just handing me over to your partner, who will take me to talk to agents who don’t know me, who don’t understand me like you do? What are they going to do to me when they find out I was at Candace’s place the night she was murdered? I told you, Lex, because I trust you. I need you on my side now.”

  “Jenna, this way I can be there for—”

  She shook her head. “I was a total fool, wasn’t I? You were using me, just like my dad and Rebecca Lynn said you were. You were baiting me, setting me up to betray my family.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He hesitated. “Look, Jenna, it might have started out that way—”

  She glared at him, then swore and made for the stairs.

  “Jenna!” he called after her. “Can you honestly tell me you weren’t setting me up at that bachelor auction? Can you swear your father had nothing to do with that?”

  She wavered on the bottom stair but didn’t turn around.

  “See? We both started out on the wrong foot, Jenna. But things have changed.”

  “Have they really, Lex?” she said softly, turning to face him, her big dark eyes hollow. “Because the way I see it, you’re still a cop first.” And with that she disappeared up the stairs.

  “Jenna!” Lex cursed, turned in a circle. Damn. He wanted to kick something. He’d wanted to say he thought he was falling in love with her, that the core reason he was taking himself off the case was so that he could distance himself from the homicide and give their relationship a living chance.

  She came down the stairs wearing his oversize gym shorts and a large white T-shirt that swam on her. Her evening gown was bundled under her arm, and her fingers were hooked through the straps of her high-heel sandals. Napoleon scuttled at her bare feet as she marched straight for his front door.

  He grabbed her arm, swung her around. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

  “Back where I belong. Where I should have stayed. The only godforsaken place I know!” She jerked free of his touch.

  “You’ve got to wait.”

  “For what, Perez?” She yanked open his front door and stomped barefoot down his small driveway toward her beat-up sports car. She wrenched the door open, and Napoleon bounded onto the passenger seat.

  Lex followed her to the car, wearing his towel. “Jenna! Stop!” He grasped her wrist.

  “What? You going to arrest me now?” Her voice was cool, her eyes defiant.

  “I will if you make me.”

  “I dare you,” she whispered angrily. “I dare you to tell your Special Agent in Charge you were screwing me, instead of just pumping me for information. Because if you don’t, I will. And I’ll tell the papers, too. Don’t think I’m afraid to do it, either. Got nothing to lose now, have I?”

  He clamped his hand over her door, stopping her from getting in. Anger bubbled inside him. “So you got what you wanted, did you, Jenna? You bought me at your auction, seduced me. And now you’re going to use it to screw my case—is that how it goes?”

  Her eyes flickered, filling with moisture.

  “Think about it,” he said, voice low and controlled. “You go to the papers with this story and you’ll be doing exactly what your were seeking to avoid when you didn’t tell the police that you were at Candace’s apartment. You will once again drag the media circus down on top of your family—a nice legacy for those little toddler nephews you were trying to protect. And you’ll be dancing to your father’s tune again. Because I will now bet my last chip that he set you up to do that auction. He wants this case to go down the tubes for some reason, and he’s using you to do it, Jenna.”

  “Let go of my door.”

  “I can’t let you drive. You’re not thinking straight. You’re still in shock, Jenna. You did the right thing in telling me about those notes. Now you’ve got to find the courage to see it through. You’ve crossed that line, and you said it yourself—there’s no going back now.”

  Tears glimmered in her eyes.

  “Look, Jenna I know you’re scared.” He lifted her chin gently, but she jerked away.

  She shoved past him, got into her car, slammed the door and started the engine.

  “Jenna, don’t do this.” He banged on her window. “Geez, I…love you,” he yelled. “I want to make this work, damn it!”

  Her eyes flared, her mouth opened slightly. She cursed at him and hit the gas. Fishtailing down his road.

  Lex swore, kicked the curb, then rushed inside to grab his phone.

  “Perez, it’s Duncan. I need you to get someone on Jenna Rothchild’s tail ASAP. She’s heading home right now. No—” he hesitated, sliding further over to the dark side. “I don’t want you to bring her in. Just have her followed, make sure whoever you put on her tail has backup on call. Don’t leave her alone for one second, understand? I…” He slipped even deeper into gray ethical muck. “She was followed last night, and…she might lead us to our target. Or flush him out.” He shut his eyes for a moment, praying he was doing the right thing.

  “You want me to tail her myself?”

  “No. I need you in the office. I’m coming in—I’ll explain.” He needed Perez to keep working the angles they’d started, and he was going to have to talk to Quinn.

  Lex hung up, wondering how in the hell he’d gotten to this point. Perhaps he should’ve chased after Jenna himself. But she was so strung out it might have driven her to excess speed, and a dangerous accident involving not only her life but others. Once she was inside the Rothchild mansion, she should be safe with all Harold’s security and an FBI agent at the bottom of the drive.

  * * *

  A chorus of yipping rose the instant Lex walked into the bullpen. “Shut the hell up, would you?”

  “Feeling a little rough, are we, Duncan?”

  “Did you get someone on Rothchild’s tail?” he asked Perez, removing his jacket.

  Concern showed in Rita Perez’s eyes. She got up from her desk, came up to him, talking quietly. “What’s going down, partner?”

  “They’re freaking idiots, that’s what. Where’s Quinn?” he said, noticing the door to his office was shut.

  “He’s in Washington, gone for two days. You going to tell me what’s going down with Rothchild?”

  Lex sighed and swore. His little chat with the boss was going to have to wait. He was going to have to remain on the case, status quo, for another forty-eight hours.

  “What you want Quinn for?”

  “Just needed to speak to him about something personal.”

  Perez put her hands on her hips. “What you need is to speak to me, partner. You need to tell me what the hell is going on between you and that Rothchild woman.”

  “Nothing is going on.”

  “Oh? Apart from the fact she was followed last night, caused a major highway pileup and you didn’t bring her in?”

  “Executive decision,” he said crisply, pulling out his chair.

  Her brow tweaked up, and she regarded him suspiciously. “Let’s hope it’s the right one. For your sake.”

  “Haven’t you got some work to do, Perez?”

  “Yeah. I got work. I’m just wondering if we’re like, still a team here, you know?”

  Lex gru
nted.

  She remained, arms akimbo, looking at him.

  “Look.” He glanced around the office, lowered his voice. “I’ll explain it all, I promise. Between you and me, I got myself messed up personally with this woman, and I need to get myself off this case. And I will as soon as Quinn gets back.”

  She studied him for a few beats. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah, as long as you quit hassling me and get off my back for a few minutes.”

  Perez sat at her desk, began busying herself irritably with her computer, and Lex felt bad. Rita Perez had worked for the FBI for twenty years now, and she’d always been there for her partners. She had that kind of rep, never fussed about stuff like tenure, and who’d been where longer. She was one of the most decent, fair, equality-minded people he knew. And apart from the recent bachelor auction fiasco, he trusted her with his life. “Everything okay with your niece?” he muttered.

  She glanced up, that dark all-knowing brow of hers crooking higher. “What? You want to be my friend now?”

  “Whatever. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Marisa is fine,” she snapped. “Better than fine—she’s got a new man in her life.”

  “Who?”

  “Patrick Moore, an accountant and a really decent guy who came out of nowhere into her life. I’m happy for her. She’s had a rough haul since her miscarriage. She’s opening up her own nanny agency now.”

  “That’s great, Perez. Tell her I’m happy for her.” And he was, genuinely so.

  Perez hesitated. “I’m having them both over for dinner next weekend. Want to come?”

  “Thanks. Maybe I will. I—” The phone on his desk rang, and he snagged the receiver. “Special Agent Duncan,” he barked.

  It was his contact from the financial crimes unit in New York returning his earlier call. And what Lex heard next made him sit forward sharply.

  The New York unit apparently now had an informer, a retired personal accountant of Frank Epstein’s from the old Frontline days who’d kept copious copies of records—payroll, budgets, tax files, receipts—all because he feared he might one day need “insurance” against Epstein. And among those records was a mention of a business deal with Harold Rothchild.