Mountain Witness

by LENA DIAZ,

  She laughed and continued her ministrations.

  “You’re really good at this.” He closed his eyes, hoping she’d never stop.

  “I’m good at a lot of things.”

  Her sexy whisper near his ear had his eyes flying open. Did she realize how her words sounded? The double meaning his suddenly lust-fogged mind had latched on to? He waited, barely breathing. When she didn’t say anything else or lead him toward the bedroom, he silently berated himself for even thinking of her that way. He desperately wanted to make love to her, but that would be completely inappropriate.

  The few kisses they’d shared were just as inappropriate, but he blamed them on the fact that they were both tired and not thinking straight. He couldn’t use that excuse now. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, which meant she’d taken a three hour nap. And he’d slept for at least two hours on the couch before coming into the kitchen to work on the case.

  Julie was a witness, and she needed time to work through the topsy-turvy changes in her life. Chris had no business thinking of her except as a woman he was duty-bound to protect.

  Too bad his traitorous body wasn’t listening.

  His phone buzzed on the table. With Julie’s hands still massaging his neck, he carefully leaned forward and picked up the phone. And just like that, the lust-induced fog evaporated. He reached up and took one of her hands in his, pulling her away from him.

  “Thanks. Really,” he told her. “But I’ve got to answer this.”

  The disappointment in her eyes had him wondering if maybe he hadn’t imagined the sexy double entendre of her earlier words. And that made taking this call feel like torture.

  He cleared his throat, gave Julie a pained smile as he held the phone against his ear. “Hi, Mom.”

  Julie’s eyes widened. Then she started to laugh.

  He frowned at her, which only made her laugh harder.

  “No, Mom. No, I’m, ah, working.” He listened to her next question and shook his head. “No, that’s not Donna that you just heard. You don’t know this woman.” He shook his head again as his mother continued to badger him with questions. “No, it’s not Nancy the 911 operator either. Nancy works from home, Mom. Yes, you can route 911 calls remotely these days.” He rolled his eyes.

  Julie grinned and blew him a kiss before retreating into the bedroom.

  Chris groaned.

  His mother demanded to know if he was hurt or something.

  “What? Oh, no, sorry, Ma. I’m fine, promise. Are you okay? It’s awful late. What? You can’t sleep? Okay. Me? Just working a case—you know, same old, same old. Church? Oh, sorry. I forgot.” He closed his eyes. Shoot. He had completely forgotten to call her and tell her he wouldn’t make it to church.

  While he listened to his mother go on and on about how important it was to go to church, he settled back and rested his head against the wood slats of the chair. Missing church was a cardinal sin in his mother’s book. She would probably be up all night praying for his eternal soul. And if she had her way, he’d be up, too, listening while she prayed.

  He sighed and shoved back from the table. The cool night air this high up on the mountain had put a definite chill inside the family room. He knelt down by the fireplace, saying the occasional “Yes, ma’am” into the phone whenever his mother paused for breath. Once he had a roaring fire going, he settled onto the massive sectional couch and rested his head on one of the throw pillows.

  This was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The deep, husky sound of Chris’s voice had faded long ago. He must have finally finished his phone call. But, unfortunately, he hadn’t taken Julie’s hint and joined her in the bedroom. Or maybe he had taken the hint, and the answer was no.

  Sighing, she stared at the ceiling above her bed, the moonlight flooding in through the high-set windows giving her plenty of light to see by. The idea of making love to Chris Downing, once it had settled in her mind, wouldn’t go away. She didn’t need to know him for years to know he was a good man and that she was wildly attracted to him. In a matter of days she knew he was a far better person than she could ever hope to be, and had her thinking all kinds of what-ifs.

  She looked toward the doorway. The kitchen light had been turned off long ago, replaced with the flickering of firelight. While her bedroom was warm with the heavy comforter surrounding her, the appeal of that fire beckoned, if only because Chris was out there, too.

  Thumping the bed impatiently, she debated her options. Lie here all night, unable to sleep, wishing she was with Chris. Or go see whether he wanted her as much as his kisses implied. The worst he could do was say no. She’d be mortified, but she’d never heard of anyone really dying from embarrassment. And at least she wouldn’t be lying here for the rest of the night wondering whether she’d blown her chance.

  Decision made, she tossed back the covers before she chickened out and changed her mind. She opened the nightstand drawer, knowing what she would find. She’d looked in it earlier while hoping that Chris would follow her. After grabbing one of the foil packets, she padded across the carpet and into the family room.

  The gorgeous fireplace was like a beacon, the flames dancing across real wood logs, heat flooding into the room. It was beautiful and made the gas-burning fireplace in her Nashville home seem like a pathetic pretender in comparison. But when she rounded the end of the brown leather sectional that faced the fireplace, she froze in awe.

  There were so-called masterpieces hanging in her home, but none of them came close to framing the incredible male beauty before her. Chris must have gotten overheated from the fire. He’d shed his clothes, all except his boxers. With one arm crooked over his head, the muscles of his chest were displayed to advantage, golden light flickering across his skin.

  A light matting of dark hair furred his chest and marched down the center of his abs to disappear beneath the waistband of his underwear. One of his legs was drawn up, his other hand draped over his knee. Thickly muscled thighs tapered to his calves. Even his feet were sexy. Everything about him was enticing and, yet, so perfect, so beautiful, she could have stood there forever just drinking him in.

  No, no, what she was doing was wrong. Watching him without him knowing it was like being a voyeur, a Peeping Tom. She should either wake him up and risk his rejection, or go back to her room. Option number three, standing here all night marveling at him as he slept, while incredibly appealing, was not an option at all. She needed to do something. Soon. Now.

  Good grief, the man was gorgeous.

  She sighed and bit her lip in indecision.

  An intake of breath had her gaze shooting to his face. His eyes were open and he was watching her. He made no move to cover up or sit up. Instead, he simply waited, his jaw tight, his pupils dilated. Like a hungry panther, languidly watching its mate. Any thought of being rejected died in the face of such raw need. He wanted her, needed her, as much as she wanted and needed him.

  Slowly, she crossed the room, devouring him with her eyes, her fingers clenching at her sides. The foil crinkled in her grip. His gaze went to her hand, and when he saw what she was holding, his nostrils flared.

  When she stopped in front of the couch, he held out his hands to her, an invitation she was helpless to resist. And then she was beneath him, the delicious weight of his body pressing her down, his lips greedily moving across hers in an openmouthed kiss that had her moaning and panting even before his tongue swept inside.

  A draft of cold air across her shoulders told her that he’d taken off her top. The man was an expert at undressing a woman. That both delighted and dismayed her. She didn’t want to think about anyone who’d come before her—or the woman he’d professed to love back in his college days. She wanted this man completely to herself.

  Before long they were both naked, heated skin sliding against
heated skin. His hands were everywhere, caressing, molding, stroking, making her shiver with delight. She wanted to touch him as much as he wanted to touch her. They twisted and strained against each other, kissing and being kissed, touching and being touched.

  Then he was pressing her down again, claiming her mouth with his. She vaguely registered the sound of the foil packet being torn. He must have taken it from her at some point. She didn’t remember. He lifted off her, rolling the condom into place while he continued to make love to her mouth with his. And then, just when she thought she would die if he didn’t take her, he moved between her thighs, pressing against her.

  She eagerly lifted her legs, cradling him against her body. When he didn’t press into her, she opened her eyes to see why.

  He was staring at her, his face inches from hers. He smiled, gently kissed her, then framed her face in his hands.

  “You’re so beautiful, and strong, and brave,” he whispered. “Are you sure about this? We haven’t known each other that long. I’m supposed to be protecting you, not...doing this.”

  She slid her fingers across his ribs, making him shudder against her. “I’m more sure about this than anything in my whole life. Don’t stop, Chris. Love me. Please. Just love me.”

  He shuddered again and swooped down to kiss her, his tongue thrusting between her lips as he thrust inside her body. The pleasure, the pressure of him filling her so completely while he did amazing things with his mouth and his hands had her arching off the couch, whimpering against him.

  He tore his mouth from hers, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw tight as he pumped into her, over and over, drawing her body into a tight bow of pleasure. She kissed the column of his throat, scored her nails down the muscles of his back, encouraging him with the words of lovers passed down through the generations.

  Higher and higher he drew her up on waves of pleasure so exquisite she didn’t think she could possibly go any higher. And then, with one clever stroke of his fingers, a deep thrust of his body inside hers, he took her to a new level.

  He let out a savage growl and captured her mouth with his before sliding both hands beneath her bottom and angling her up. He withdrew once more, then plunged into her so deeply she exploded, shouting his name as she clung to him, her body shuddering with the strength of her climax. He thrust into her again, riding her through the waves of pleasure until he tightened inside her and came apart in her arms, his breath rushing out of him in a groan of ecstasy and making her climax all over again.

  Like embers from a wildfire, they both slowly floated back to earth, wrapped in each other’s arms, skin slicked with sweat. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel the rush of her own pulse slamming in her veins.

  He shuddered again, then slowly withdrew, turning her in his arms, spooning her with a thigh draped over hers as he turned them toward the fireplace. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her body felt boneless, cradled against his. He curled an arm over her belly, his fingers idly caressing the undersides of her breasts. She fell asleep with him whispering erotic love words in her ear and telling her how beautiful she was.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chris fanned the papers out on the kitchen table, trying again to refocus on the case and look at all of the clues in light of the latest reports he’d gotten just after the sun came up.

  He glanced toward the ground floor bedroom. Julie was still getting ready to face the day, putting on makeup that he’d assured her she didn’t need. For some reason, that had only made her more determined to fix her makeup and do something with her hair. He shook his head and looked down at the papers.

  After making love twice more during the night, they’d both been exhausted and famished. They’d cooked omelets at four in the morning, taking turns feeding each other, laughing like a couple of newlyweds, before hopping into the shower together. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily fall in love with the amazing woman.

  The thought of his first love, Sherry, shot through his mind. Losing her had been devastating. Losing Julie? He couldn’t even go there. It would destroy him. Maybe it was already too late to guard himself from caring too much. But it wasn’t too late to protect her. He had to figure out who her late husband had been working with and why. If he didn’t do that, he could never guarantee her safety.

  He studied the newest list he was making, the same one that he’d started in the chief’s office but never finished. This time he had more information.

  Love.

  Money.

  Revenge.

  Hatred.

  Hide something.

  Those were the possible motives he was working with.

  Love. He hesitated. Did Julie love someone else? Was she involved with someone in Nashville? As soon as those thoughts went through his head, he discarded them. She was so honest with her feelings. There was no way that she could have made love with him last night, giving herself to him so completely, if she loved someone else. Her ex hadn’t tried to kill her because of some love triangle. He crossed that one off the list.

  Next possible motivation—money. Yesterday, he’d have been inclined to cross this one off the list, too. But that was before he’d received the in-depth financial study on Alan Webb and his family’s import-export business. Everything was coming together now. And money seemed to be at the root of the whole damn thing.

  “You look like you’ve got the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.”

  He looked up to see Julie crossing the kitchen toward him. Today she was wearing a blue blouse tucked into blue dress slacks, showing off all her curves. Her shoulder-length hair hung in glossy waves, with a simple side part. She didn’t seem to be wearing much makeup, but what she did have on emphasized her eyes and her dark lashes, making him want to sit for hours just staring at her.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  Her face flushed a delightful pink. “About a dozen times. Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “What are you working on?”

  He forced his gaze to the paper in front of him. “Finances. Specifically, you and your husband’s. Did you know that his family’s business was teetering on the brink of bankruptcy before you married him?”

  She frowned. “That can’t be right. Alan always had money in college. I think that’s how he got a lot of people to like him—free drinks all around whenever he was in a bar. He never once said anything about running short on cash, or mentioned concerns about his father’s company.”

  Chris shoved the financial report on Webb Enterprises across the table as she sat across from him.

  “The company got a huge influx of cash from another corporation a few weeks after you got married.”

  Her brows furrowed as she skimmed the pages of the report. “What was the payment for?”

  “It was listed as cash flow from an investment. But the state cops working on the financial side of the investigation can’t find where any companies have invested in Webb Enterprises to produce revenue anywhere close to that amount. And the payments have continued, once a month, for years. Until recently, when they suddenly stopped.”

  She glanced up. “They stopped? When?”

  “On your twenty-fifth birthday.”

  Her eyes widened. “My birthday? That’s...a coincidence. Odd, but what other explanation could there be? What was this other corporation?”

  “Victoria and Edward.”

  She blinked, her face going pale. “My grandmother’s business?”

  He nodded.

  “Let me get this straight. My estranged grandmother, Elizabeth Victoria Abbott, the one who disowned my mother and never made any attempt to have anything to do with us, has been making cash payments to my husband ever since I got married? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But...I ne
ver heard anything about it. Wait, wait.” She held up a hand as if to stop him, a panicked look entering her eyes. “You said Webb Enterprises was going broke. But then my...grandmother...began making those payments. Then, all this time, Alan wasn’t the wealthy one. It wasn’t his business that was buying our fancy house and fancy cars. It was my distant relative in London?”

  He nodded. “That’s what it looks like.”

  She fisted her hands on the table. “Money. You said one of the motives for murder is money. And you said that you don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Right.” He watched her work through what he’d been working through all morning. He didn’t have all the answers, but this was the biggest piece so far. It had to be the key. He waited to give her time to process everything, and to be there for her once she did.

  Several minutes went by. When she looked at him again, the tears that he’d expected to see weren’t there. Instead, she looked almost...relieved.

  “So that’s the answer then,” she said. “That’s why our marriage was so rocky, right from the start. Alan didn’t marry me for love. He married me for money. Which is incredibly ironic considering his parents always acted like they thought I’d married him for his money.” She shook her head. “This is crazy. Alan had to have been insane, a psychopath. He somehow knew about the link between my family and this corporation of my grandmother’s and...what? Tried to figure out how to get the money? Oh, God above. It all makes sense now.”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach.

  “What you said yesterday,” she continued, “everything on the board—it’s all true, and it all makes a horrible, macabre sense. Alan needed money. He found out about my grandmother, somehow. Then he hit on my sister. But she didn’t like him. He must have realized he couldn’t manipulate her so, instead, he killed her, and then my parents, leaving me as the one link to my grandmother. Let me guess. She regrets disowning my mother and set up a trust or something, right? You said she’s still alive, so it can’t be a simple inheritance. But it must still be set up to pay the heir—which, with the rest of my family dead—is me. Did I get it right, Chris? Alan knew he could manipulate me, so he killed everyone else? That’s it, isn’t it?”