Desired by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  “Who are they?” the man asked.

  Sara twisted to look at us. It was so obvious that she was buying herself an extra few seconds before answering. “Who, them? They knew JD.”

  Oswald took a longer look at us, his gaze lingering on Rob for so long that I took a quick glance to see if he’d sprouted a rhino horn or something. But no, he was the same Rob as always.

  “Did you need me?” Sara was asking. I got the impression that Oswald wanted to come talk to us. Sara was such an atrociously bad liar, I couldn’t blame him.

  “My meeting this morning was canceled and my gym clothes are here,” he said, but he was still staring at Rob.

  He pushed past his wife, a smile on his face, and came striding down the paved path. “Good morning,” he boomed.

  Rob stood, and I awkwardly followed his lead. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” Rob said.

  “Thank you,” Oswald said. From a distance I’d thought his eyes were blue, but up close they were a startling gray. “How did you know JD?”

  “Through Neil,” I said.

  Oswald blinked at the mention of Neil’s name. “How… How is he?”

  “Doing much better,” I said. “He’s tough as nails.”

  “Yes,” Oswald said, nodding. “That he is.”

  Sara had come up and was standing uncomfortably off to the side.

  “Perhaps I’ll join you,” Oswald said with a grin.

  Rob nodded. “That’s—”

  “That’s going to have to wait until next time, dear,” Sara said. “They’re just passing through.” Not only didn’t she want her husband to know who we were, she seemed afraid of even a few minutes of small talk.

  I felt my phone buzzing. It was a call, and I immediately knew it had to be Corbin, but I couldn’t take it.

  “Actually, we have another thirty minutes,” I said with a smile that probably looked forced. Even though I was the only one who could feel it, the buzzing phone felt unnaturally distracting, like it was vibrating the entire city.

  Sara looked like she wanted to faint as she said, “That’s fantastic.” She sat, and everyone else followed suit.

  I was surprised at how quickly she’d given up, but then she said, “Dear, would you mind seeing what’s taking Priscilla so long with the tea?”

  And Oswald had to do it. Those were the rules for married people. He set off for the house at a fast clip, and Sara leaned in. “Thank you for playing along. He tends to…” She fluttered her fingers. “Worry.”

  “In what way?” I asked.

  “He thinks I shouldn’t be so proactive about the investigation. Says it’s obsessive and unhealthy. When he heard that Neil had hired a PI, he ranted for ten minutes about how stupid it was and that Neil should leave things to the cops. He’s always been a man of strong opinions. I was hoping that Oz would leave so I could talk to you in private.”

  Oswald came out of the house carrying a tray bearing a silver tea set and delicate china cups and saucers. “Priscilla’s off to the bakery,” he said cheerfully. As he served us, I noticed his attention was split between Rob and Sara.

  The next thirty minutes were long and awkward. Rob and I dropped enough tidbits about Neil’s life—the name of his dog, the name of his grandmother—to cover up for the things that we should have known but didn’t—that Neil and JD had spent a month together in Japan.

  Funny, that.

  Neil had told me that he and JD were casual hookup buddies.

  Everyone lied about everything, it seemed. It was starting to feel like a conspiracy.

  After Priscilla returned and served croissants and jam, the conversation slowed. I was dying to ask Oswald what he’d thought of JD, but I couldn’t find a way to work it into the conversation.

  Finally Oswald stood. “It was nice to meet you both,” he said. “Jane.” He shook my hand. “Peter.” He shook Rob’s hand.

  The way he looked at Rob…

  Sara walked him out.

  “That was weird,” Rob said. “Not to toot my own horn, but was that guy staring at me?”

  Remembering how the building superintendent had solicited Rob for exercise advice, I studied my brother with a critical eye. In the week that I’d been in Paris, he’d swapped his eyeglasses for contact lenses, started dressing better, and kicked up his workouts.

  “Ok,” Rob said. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Trying to see you objectively. Your workouts are paying off. You do look really good.”

  He glowed. “Do you think Jennifer noticed?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “After all, noticing things is her job.”

  “You build me up, then…” Rob made a noise like something exploding, but he was joking.

  Sara returned, but she didn’t sit down. “I’m afraid I’m exhausted,” she said. And she looked it; her earlier glow had turned wan. “What did you find in LA?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I didn’t remind her that we’d gone over this on the phone. “Tell me, did Oswald and JD get along?”

  “They didn’t run in the same circles, but there was never any tension. You haven’t made any progress in this case, have you?”

  I felt my temper starting to flair. “You’ll be the first to know if we do,” I said.

  “Oh. I just assumed that you came here because something had turned up that was too sensitive to discuss otherwise.”

  “We’ll have something soon, I’m sure,” Rob said smoothly as Sara walked us to the front door. “If you think of anything at any time, call us. You have Audrey’s number.” He pulled out a Stroop Finders business card—when had he started carrying them?—and handed it to Sara.

  A little color returned to her cheeks, and I thought she might change her mind about needing a nap or a drink or whatever she planned to do once we were gone. But she didn’t.

  Rob and I stayed quiet until we were in the car and a few blocks away.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “If I were a cop, I’d be bringing the lot of them in for questioning. I was thinking about how Oswald was staring at me. Sara’s stunning, and she’s got loads of free time. Maybe they’ve had trouble.”

  “So you got a jealous vibe off him?”

  “Definitely,” Rob said. “That’s exactly what it was.”

  “You would know.” Even before he’d lost the glasses and bulked up, Rob had done very well with women, and that had sometimes led to confrontations.

  But something wasn’t sitting right. Oswald had seemed more worried about Rob than Sara, which felt backward. Not that I was an expert. I wondered if Neil would be able to—or willing to—shed light on the situation.

  I suddenly remembered the missed call and pulled out my phone. Corbin. He’d sent a text. No news. Miss you. See you tonight.

  No news? I found that hard to believe. So, great. I’d get to further work on my interrogation skills when I got home.

  Chapter 14

  It was early evening when our plane descended. I watched the mountains in the distance with a measure of relief. This was home, and I was happy to be back.

  The moment we came to a stop, I jumped to my feet and began loading up the bags, leaving Rob to deal with the painting.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked as we wove through the crowds.

  “I want to take a shower.” And talk to Corbin, reassure myself that nothing life altering had happened in DC. Unfortunately, that was at least an hour away because I had to drop Rob off first.

  “Hold up. Let me buy a smoothie.” He got into line without waiting for me to agree.

  What could I do but join him? My irritation must have shown because Rob promised, “I’ll drink it fast.”

  “Can’t you walk and drink?” I asked. The line barely seemed to be moving.

  “Sure, if you carry the painting and the bags.” He ordered the largest size they had. Orange flavor. It took the employee an ice age to make it.

  Then Rob sipped. He savored. We moved toward the exit a
t a snail’s pace.

  “Let me try,” I asked sweetly. Taking it out of his hand, I sucked a third of the drink up. If it hadn’t given me a splitting ice cream headache, I would have downed the whole thing so we could be on our way.

  Eventually Rob finished his drink, wiped his fingers, and picked up the painting. I took off; he would either keep up or get left at the airport.

  He kept up.

  As we approached the row where I’d parked my car, I became aware of a tall, brawny figure leaning against my hood. He was reading a newspaper.

  My heart stuttered in my chest as he folded up the paper. He wore tight, faded black jeans, boots, and a black and gray short-sleeved flannel shirt that strained around his bulging biceps.

  His head was tilted down, showing me nothing but the black brim of his cowboy hat. As we approached, Corbin looked up, electric blue-green eyes flashing like lightning. He tucked the paper under his arm.

  The man was so distractingly hot. He knew the effect he had on me; that was the only explanation for the amused, almost cocky smile.

  “Howdy, stranger,” I said, suddenly feeling shy. I didn’t ask what he was doing there or how he’d known when our plane was arriving. The answers were obvious: because he wanted to see me, and because we’d used his travel agent to switch our flights.

  He pushed his hat up with a finger. “Ma’am.”

  Why that one word should make me weak, I had no idea. But it did. My knees wobbled. Suddenly, the last thing I wanted was to discuss his meeting in DC.

  He looked past me. “What the hell is that?”

  I turned. Rob was struggling with the painting, and I jogged back to help him with it.

  “Sure,” Rob said. “I have to haul it through the airport, onto the shuttle bus, and across the parking lot, but by all means, help me carry it the last fifteen feet.”

  “It’s one of JD’s paintings,” I said, ignoring Rob’s griping. “Evidence.”

  Corbin frowned. “I hope not.”

  Given that it was quite clearly a painting, I could only imagine he was talking about the evidence part of my statement. “Why not?”

  “Removing evidence is never a good idea,” he said. “That’s from private investigation 101.”

  Rob set the painting down, and I grabbed the edge to keep it from falling. Rob made a show of wiping his forehead on the back of his arm. “It’s only evidence in the loosest sense of the word,” he told Corbin.

  “You can tell me about it on the way home,” Corbin said to me. “Where does the painting go?”

  “Your place?” I asked.

  It was almost imperceptible, but his eyebrows drew together a touch.

  “It’s not stolen,” I said. “JD’s sister gave me permission to take whatever I needed from his place, so I did.” Well, she’d implied that I could take what I needed. After all, she’d made it clear that she didn’t care what happened to his belongings, and now that I’d seen her home, I understood why she hadn’t wanted his stuff.

  Corbin nodded. “And where are you headed?” he asked Rob.

  “To the office. We carpooled.”

  I expected Corbin to tell Rob to leave my car there, on the street, but instead he said, “You take Audrey’s car, and we’ll meet you there.”

  I gave Rob my keys. Corbin took my bag and the painting, and I followed him to his black SUV. If there hadn’t been so many of them sprinkled throughout the parking lot, I would have noticed it sooner.

  We carefully maneuvered the painting into the back. Corbin’s warm, hard forearm brushed against mine. I caught little whiffs of his scent, of his aftershave, of coffee, of the delicious, masculine way he naturally smelled.

  Corbin opened the door for me. “Ma’am,” he said, and my pussy got wet. He was being so polite, but I knew he had a filthy mouth and a dirty mind, and it killed me that he was acting like he wasn’t thinking about yanking down my jeans and fucking me.

  Because I knew him, knew how his mind worked.

  As Corbin drove, I tried not to stare. He’d tossed the cowboy hat onto the rear seat, and now his thick, dark hair tumbled over his ears. I wanted to slide my leg across his lap, bury my fingers in his dark mane, and shove my tongue down his throat.

  If my brother hadn’t been following us, I would have groped Corbin. I was so horny that it was difficult not to beg.

  He cast a look my way, and the smile that had been lurking just below the surface burst into a heart-stopping grin. “What’s going through your mind?”

  “You,” I said. Naked, thrusting, spanking, fucking, I didn’t say. I didn’t need to. He knew.

  “We’ll be home soon enough. I already filled the refrigerator. You were running low on hair conditioner, so I picked up some of that, too.”

  “You’re making me horny, talking about running errands.” I said it as a joke, but it was true. Goddamn, there really was something irresistible about a man who handled things. Not that I’d dated any slackers or slouchers—or anyone, really. But I’d hooked up with guys who were never going to be boyfriend material for anyone, and heaven knew that on a typical day at Stroop Finders, I spent plenty of time following around the least responsible humans on the planet.

  Though truth be told, I was so happy to see Corbin that anything he did was going to turn me on.

  “Well, you think you’re hot now, wait until you hear about how I…” He paused. “I made sure our place is sparkling clean.”

  I dropped my voice into a register between husky and sultry. “You mean you paid the cleaners?”

  “You should have seen it, baby. I stayed out of their way. I was a god.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Not a god?” he asked. He cracked the window, and wind whipped into the SUV, ruffling his hair. Outside smelled like fresh-cut grass and barbecue smoke.

  “I missed you,” I said. “How was your trip?”

  He shrugged, and I knew he didn’t want to talk about it. “Speaking of trips… I’ve been thinking again about taking some serious time off. How do you feel about Alaska?”

  “Alaska? Are you serious?” Had DC been that bad?

  “We’re both fed up with the heat.” He shrugged. “Would you prefer something more urban? I just figured that after Paris, it might be nice to go somewhere a bit quieter.” He stopped at a light and turned toward me, his blue-green eyes locking with mine. “I’m thinking romantic and remote, so we can’t be tempted to work.”

  “I…” It wouldn’t be fair to keep pushing him about the meeting, which was surely classified, though I didn’t know how long I’d be able to hold out. Surely he could tell me something. I glanced nervously away.

  “It’s already late in the season,” he was saying. “If we don’t go soon, we might get snowed in. Worse, we might get snowed out.”

  Oh, I remembered being snowed in with Corbin. Back then, he’d been 100% mysterious. Now he was down to 40%. My mouth seemed to be going dry, and I licked my lips, cleared my throat. “How soon?”

  “Next week or two,” he said as he began driving again. “Before the end of September. Ideally, I wanted to run off for a month, but I’ll settle for a week.”

  “Damn.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no.”

  “It’s… yes.” The word felt clumsy coming out of my mouth. “Assuming we can get a break.”

  “Things will slow down. Good. I bought tickets already, but they’re flexible. We’ll sneak off.”

  The time Corbin and I had spent together in Paris, just the two of us, was magical. I yearned for more of that, to be connected to him on that level. Too often we were trapped in our daily lives, being run off our feet, physically exhausted and mentally weary at the end of the day.

  But there had been things said during that trip, and I didn’t know how to handle them. He’d brought up marriage. I’d gotten all weird… had been rather immature, actually.

  The memory made me wince, and I was glad Corbin was watching the road and therefore
couldn’t see my reaction.

  I’d informed him that if I wanted to get married, I’d be the one asking. Talk about overcompensating. God, I was so immature sometimes.

  But… I didn’t want to ask him. Not really.

  It felt blindly traditional, but I wanted him to ask me, and I wanted it to be a big production. And I wanted it sooner rather than later, even though we hadn’t been together long enough to be thinking like that.

  At the same time, Corbin was the one. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in my mind.

  A week together without distractions… I’d probably end up saying something stupid, rushing things. Until recently, I’d always been the one putting on the brakes.

  I glanced in the side mirror and saw Rob following in my car. Either he was on speakerphone or he was having a psychotic episode. “Lunatic,” I muttered, smiling.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. Just Rob.” I settled my head against the headrest. “It was nice working with him. I think he might be open to the idea of PI work.” Though it was possible Rob had said he was enjoying himself out of politeness. He knew how much I wanted to become a PI.

  I relayed everything that had happened in LA and San Francisco, and I was wrapping up when Corbin slowed in front of the Stroop Finders parking lot.

  He didn’t pull in, and for good reason. He couldn’t.

  The entrance was blocked off. Even though it was after work hours, heavy machinery worked, digging, lifting, moving.

  “What?” I breathed.

  “Surprise,” he said, turning off the engine. “You wanted a small addition, but I knew we could do better. This will give both the bounty hunting and the PI businesses plenty of space to grow. I’ve got the architect’s rendition at home. You’re going to love it.”

  I flung open the door and dropped awkwardly onto the street. My eyes were wide, and I couldn’t stop staring.

  The building itself was… unrecognizable.

  Of course I’d known that expanding onto it would mean some amount of destruction.

  But I’d thought it would happen in bits and pieces. The parking lot was plowed up, and there was scaffolding around the parts of the structure that weren’t missing.