“If Ryan was on fire, Blakely wouldn’t cross the street to spit on him. She would, however, cross to throw some gasoline.”
Well, that was pretty definitive. And left little room for the idea that Blakely would do anything to help Ryan O’Sullivan. Although, if she really had, no doubt her father would be the first to say whatever he could to deflect suspicion.
So this conversation had done rather little to help Gray decide whether Blakely had been involved in framing him, or had just lucked into information that had been planted.
A knock on the door prevented him from asking any more questions, even if he’d had any.
The detective stood in the open doorway, a very pissed off Blakely glaring from behind him.
* * *
Blakely stormed out of the station. She was halfway to Gray’s car when he grasped her arm and jerked her to a stop.
Turning to glare at him, she ripped her arm from his grasp. But instead of turning away again, she leaned forward into his personal space and growled, “Don’t touch me.”
Her blood whooshed in her veins. The sound of it throbbed through her head, along with the tattoo of her elevated breathing.
Seriously, she needed to get a grip.
Logically, she realized the emotion directed at Gray was not entirely his fault. Everything that had happened today was simply coming to a head, crashing down over her at once. And he made a handy target.
But realizing that didn’t do her much good.
Glancing around them, Gray frowned. How was it fair that the man could still manage to look like a Hollywood heartthrob even while irritated?
Ignoring her snarled words, he grasped her arm again and urged her ahead of him and around the corner of the building.
He maneuvered them both into a dark patch of quiet shade. Using his leverage, he set her back against the brick wall and then let her go.
He backed away, putting a few feet between them. “Now isn’t the time to lose it, Blakely.”
“No joke.”
Gray cocked a single eyebrow, silently calling her ten kinds of stupid for doing exactly what she shouldn’t be doing.
It stung that he was right. Blakely groaned. Dropping her head back, she let her body sag into the rough surface of the wall. The sharp edges scraped against her skin, but she didn’t care.
“I’m pissed at you. I’m pissed at him. I’m just—”
“Pissed. Yeah, I got that.”
“He promised me. And I’m such an idiot for believing him because it’s not like he hasn’t broken a million promises before. But I couldn’t stop myself from hoping, even when I knew I shouldn’t.”
God, she knew better. But it was so difficult to cut those ties. And that’s what it would take in order for her to be free of her father’s drama and messes. The only way to avoid it all would be to avoid him. And she wasn’t to that point yet.
Or she hadn’t been.
Her mother and sister had given up on him years ago.
“Perhaps he’s being honest and really is innocent.”
Blakely stared at Gray, the echo of his words slightly eerie, all things considered. Was he saying that because no one—including her—had believed him when he said he was innocent? Was he being just as naive as she was?
“I’ve heard that before, Gray.” And, no, she wasn’t just talking about her father.
“Well, I believe him. I’ve called in a few favors and arranged for a friend to represent him.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Funny, he asked me the same question. And I’ll give you the same answer. Because I need you fully focused on helping me prove my innocence, and you won’t be as long as you’re worried about him. I have the money and connections to afford the best representation for Martin.”
Blakely shook her head. “No, I won’t let you do that. We don’t need your money or your help.”
The statement, vehement though she tried to make it sound, was a complete lie. She did need his help. And his money, in the form of the salary he was paying her to help him on this wild-goose chase.
“We don’t want your charity.”
“Too bad, you’re getting it, anyway.”
“I refuse to accept your help, Gray.” There was one sure way she knew to get him angry enough to back down and agree to leave her and her father alone. “You’re a criminal, just like Ryan. I won’t go to him for help and I won’t accept it from you.”
Gray’s expression went stone-hard. His mouth thinned and his eyes glittered a warning it was too late to heed.
He took a measured step, closing the gap between them. Blakely swallowed even as a frisson of awareness snaked down her spine. Nope, she refused to give in to it.
He shifted. The soft brush of his body against hers made her skin flush hot and a molten center of need melt deep inside her. His voice was low and measured as he leaned close and murmured, “I’m nothing like Ryan O’Sullivan, although you already know that. Don’t get me wrong—I’m ten times as dangerous as he is, only because I have very little left to lose. The difference is I have standards and morals.”
The heat of his breath tickled her skin. His lips were so close and she wanted them on her.
No, she didn’t.
Blakely tipped her head backward. She tried to crowd into the wall, but there was nowhere for her to go. Nowhere to get away from him. Or get away from her own unwanted reaction.
This close, all she could see were his eyes. His expression. The desolation and hope. The pain and the heat. The intensity centered squarely on her.
The spot at the juncture of her thighs throbbed. The breath in her lungs caught as the warmth of his body invaded every pore of her skin.
Gray Lockwood was dangerous. To her sanity. Her peace of mind. The very foundation of her personal morals. She’d spent her entire life avoiding men like him. And she wasn’t just talking about his criminal past, although that surely should have been enough to give her pause.
But it was more.
Gray Lockwood was a force to be reckoned with. He was intelligent, observant, dynamic and demanding. In his youth, that combination had manifested in an entitled attitude that had been less than attractive.
Now, those same qualities had the ability to make her panties damp. She shouldn’t be turned on by his confidence and domineering attitude. But she was.
Blakely stared up at him, her lips parted. Waiting. Although for what, she wasn’t entirely certain.
Gray seemed poised, as well—on the edge of something neither of them wanted to want, but couldn’t stop. So close to her, Blakely could feel the tension coiled in every one of his muscles. He was like a tiger, waiting to spring.
The moment stretched between them. On the far side of the building, a police siren went off. A couple exited the building and chatted, although Blakely couldn’t have said what their conversation was about.
She breathed in, filling her lungs with the tantalizing scent that had been taunting her for days. Him.
“To hell with it,” he finally murmured right before his body pressed in against her.
All the air whooshed out of her lungs, as if he’d slammed her against the wall, although he hadn’t. Excitement flashed through her as his mouth dropped to hers.
Blakely’s gasp backed into her lungs as he kissed her, swallowing the sound.
Gray’s arm snaked around her, settling on the small of her back as he pulled her closer. His other hand found her face, cupping it and angling her just where he wanted.
The first touch was light, but that didn’t last long. Seconds later, Gray was opening his lips, diving in and demanding everything from her.
His tongue tangled with hers, stroking and stoking and driving the need she’d been ignoring into a raging inferno she couldn’t deny. Seconds—that’s how long it took for him to stea
l her resolve and leave her a shaking mess of desire.
Her own hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer even as her brain screamed that she needed to push him away.
But she couldn’t make herself do it.
The angle changed. The kiss deepened. He demanded more. And Blakely didn’t hesitate to give it. Going up on her toes, she met him force for force. Need for need.
Somehow her leg raised, hooking up over his hip as she made demands of her own. The overheated center of her sex ached. Blakely moaned in the back of her throat as she undulated against him, looking for relief.
The sound seemed to snap him out of whatever had tangled them together.
Hands gripping her arms, he pushed away, unraveling their intertwined bodies. She leaned into his hold, unconsciously pushing against the invisible barrier he’d placed between them.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m not.” Blakely wanted to slap a hand across her wayward mouth, but it was too late. This was his fault. He’d obviously fried her brain.
Shaking his head, Gray gave a soft chuckle. “Thanks for being honest. But I shouldn’t have done that.”
Blakely wasn’t going to argue with him. “You’re right.”
She expected Gray to walk away, leave her there and let her figure out her own way back to the office.
Instead, he reached out, soft fingers trailing lightly over her cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for days.” His heated gaze skipped across the features of her face, following his teasing fingertip.
His honesty unnerved her, although it also settled her. It was reassuring to know she wasn’t the only one fighting against urges she shouldn’t have.
But she also couldn’t pretend. “This can’t happen.” Blakely tried to make the words sound adamant, even if a huge part of her didn’t want them to be.
Gray nodded, but his words contradicted the action. “Why not? We’re both adults.”
“Yes, but you don’t like me and I don’t like you.”
Gray’s eyes jumped back to hers, staring straight into her. “That’s not true. I like you just fine.”
Blakely couldn’t stop the scoffing sound that scraped through her throat. “Yeah, right. You hate me. I was instrumental in putting you in jail.”
“Maybe.”
There was no maybe about it. Her testimony had been key to his conviction.
“I’m attracted to you, Blakely. We’re working closely together, which makes ignoring the physical pull difficult. You tell me you’re not interested and I’ll do just that. But knowing you are...”
Blakely understood completely. Her body still hummed with the memory of their kiss. “It’s going to be hell to put that genie back in the bottle.”
Five
It had been two days since the kiss. Since he’d grabbed her, pressed her against the wall and gotten the first intoxicating taste of her mouth.
Nope, the feel of her hadn’t been haunting him.
Gray sat on the opposite side of the room from her, trying to concentrate on a stack of evidence, just as he had for the last two days. Honestly, if Stone walked in right now and asked him what he was doing, Gray couldn’t have told him. He hadn’t actually absorbed anything he’d read for hours.
This wasn’t good. Or productive.
For her part, Blakely had chosen to pretend the kiss never happened. When they’d walked away from the police station, Gray hadn’t been entirely certain what her reaction would be. The fact that she hadn’t slapped him was promising. And there was no way she could deny being just as into that kiss as he’d been.
But by the next morning, her stiff, perfect facade had been back in place.
Honestly, he preferred Blakely when she was energetic and emotional. Real and authentic. He’d seen the evidence that she could be more than just a disapproving robot who followed all the rules because she was scared of what might happen if she didn’t.
His conversation with Martin had been rather enlightening, though. Discovering Blakely had grown up on the outskirts of a major crime family shed some light, for sure.
But after his little meeting at the police station, one thing had become crystal clear—neither Blakely nor Martin were sitting on twenty million dollars. First, if they had been, Blakely wouldn’t have been worried about paying for her father’s lawyer. She would have called up the best defense attorney money could buy. Second, if they had that kind of money, neither of them would still be in Charleston.
Gray was convinced Martin might act the fool, but was far from it. He used that facade to his advantage. But the man wouldn’t stick around near the scene of the crime if he had the means to disappear and live the good life.
While that didn’t precisely mean Blakely hadn’t been inadvertently involved in the frame job that had sent Gray to prison, it did, at least in his mind, clear her of intentionally setting him up.
Blakely had been just as much a pawn in the whole scheme as he’d been. It was possible that whoever had placed the trail of financial information in the Lockwood Industries books had simply banked on someone finding the crumbs.
It really wouldn’t have mattered who that someone was. In fact, it might have played better if the someone was completely innocent and unconnected. If the police had done a thorough job—which Gray wasn’t willing to concede—they should have investigated every witness just to be certain of their character before they took the stand.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gray shoved away the file he’d been looking at and dropped back into his chair.
He and Blakely had been pouring over testimony, evidence and notes for a week. And so far, they’d found absolutely nothing.
The only thing Gray had to show for his effort was a growing certainty that Blakely had been unwittingly involved. Which benefited him not at all. It would have been easier if she had been purposely involved. Because then he wouldn’t have felt guilty for the way he’d maneuvered her into helping him.
Or for the way he wanted to cross the room, pull her out of her chair, wipe everything off the desk and kiss every inch of her naked skin.
Opening his eyes, Gray glanced across the office. It probably wasn’t smart to have his desk facing Blakely’s if he wanted to ignore the awareness pulsing beneath the surface of his skin.
Not that it really mattered. He didn’t need to be watching her to know she was there. Gray could feel her presence the minute she walked into the room.
Right now, though, it made his lips pull down at the edges to watch her. Because bent over a file spread open on her desk, one hand lodged in her hair and her forehead crinkled with a frown, she looked just as frustrated and unhappy as he was.
And despite everything, he didn’t want her to feel that way.
“Let’s get out of here.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he’d meant to say them.
“What?” Blakely looked up at him, blinking owlishly. Her entire body stayed poised over the file, which only made him want to take her away from here even more. It took several seconds for her gaze to clear and focus on him.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Her head tilted to the side. He was starting to learn she did that when she was weighing things. What she should do against what she wanted to do. Or what everyone else expected of her against what her instincts told her.
He was tired of seeing her calculate every step before taking one. Sure, there was a time in his life when he didn’t calculate anything because he knew there were a pile of safety nets—not to mention billions of dollars—to save him if he fell flat on his face.
Trust him to land in a mess that would rip the safety nets out from under him and make his billions worthless in getting him out of the jam.
However, that didn’t mean Blakely’s approach to life was any better. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that
life was short. You never knew what was going to happen or where you were going to end up. It was your responsibility to make the most of where you were while you were there.
He had a feeling Blakely rarely allowed herself that pleasure.
Gray also knew that if he gave her enough time to come up with a valid excuse, she’d decline his offer simply because he made her nervous. Not because she was scared of him, but because she didn’t want to like him.
Or want him.
Well, that wasn’t going to work for him anymore.
He wanted her and he wasn’t going to let the mess they were trying to unravel stop him from getting what he wanted.
Standing up, Gray walked around to her desk. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Does it matter? We both need a break. I haven’t seen you eat anything today. You’ve got to be starving.”
She paused. Gray’s stomach knotted with nerves that he really didn’t want to acknowledge or investigate. And to his surprise, Blakely offered him a small half smile.
“I am pretty hungry.”
* * *
What the hell was she doing?
For the second time in a few days, Blakely found herself riding in the passenger seat of Gray’s low-slung sports car. The leather cupped her body, making her feel snug and safe even as he tore through the city at breakneck speed. Apparently, he wasn’t concerned about getting the attention of an officer...or a speeding ticket.
She should have said no and stayed at the office. Not just because avoiding small, enclosed spaces with Gray was just smart. But because she was seriously starting to think the man was innocent of the charges for which he’d been convicted.
And that left her with a nasty taste in her mouth.
They’d spent a lot of time together in the last week. In that time, one thing had become obvious. The man he was now was nowhere near the man he’d been back then.
And, yes, that did nothing to prove he’d been innocent. Gray’s reputation back then might have been difficult to surmount. But, honestly, had he really been that terrible?
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