Wicked Lies

by Lora Leigh

  The icy chill sweeping over her was agonizing. Deprived of his heat, of the pleasure burning through her, she suddenly realized just how cold she had been for so long.

  “What…? Jazz…?” Kenni swallowed tightly, her palms flattening against the wall to keep from reaching for him, from silently begging for him.

  Just a few more minutes, she thought desperately. Couldn’t she have had just a few more minutes?

  Pushing his fingers roughly through his hair Jazz stalked across the room before turning and glaring back at her, his blue eyes intense behind the narrowed shield of those thick lashes.

  “You make me fucking crazy,” he muttered, a hint of anger burning in his eyes now.

  The statement had her staring back at him in disbelief.

  “I make you crazy?” What the hell had she done to him this time? “You’re the one who barged in on me tonight, not the other way around.” Anger instantly overcame the erotic weakness that had invaded her knees. Her hands went to her hips, outrage filling her. “I did not ask you to show up here and start kissing me, Jazz Lancing. You did that all on your own, so don’t blame me if you regret it now.”

  Damn him. Double damn him. What made him think he could jerk her to him and make her want him with a desperation that bordered on insanity, only to blame her for it?

  “I didn’t say I regretted a damned thing.” The low, deep tone of his voice had her tensing at the warning in it. “I said you make me fucking crazy.”

  “You were crazy long before I showed up.” She flipped her hand toward him dismissively. “Why don’t you just go on home and leave me the hell alone now. And next time, call before you show up so I can leave before you get here. You just end up giving me a headache.”

  And making her do things she knew were foolhardy. Things like wishing she was back in his arms, like wanting to beg for more when she knew more would only end up destroying her further.

  She couldn’t afford Jazz, her soul couldn’t afford Jazz. It was bad enough he was her greatest sexual fantasy and her deepest desire all rolled up in one sexy, hard, mountain-bred warrior. If she could be certain he wouldn’t go to Cord, certain his ties to the Kin weren’t as strong as they once were, then she would have asked him for help. Maybe.

  Three months of watching him, though, tracking him, and still she didn’t know if his loyalties would lie with her or with Cord and the Kin.

  If anyone could have helped her, though, it would have been Jazz.

  “Well, ain’t that just too bad, sweet pea,” he snarled, glaring back at her. “So I guess you just better get used to that headache because I’ll be damned if I’ll give you a warning of any fucking thing.”

  And wasn’t that just like him. Stubborn, mule-headed man that he was, had been for as long as she’d known him.

  “You’re being unreasonable…”

  “Well, excuse me,” he snarled back at her. “Evidently that’s what happens when I get this hard for a woman who refuses to come to me on her own.”

  Well, now, shouldn’t that have just clued him in at some point?

  “Who refuses to beg, you mean?” Crossing her arms beneath her breasts Kenni flashed him a disgusted look. “I won’t beg you, Jazz, nor will I fawn over your dubious charms. I’m not one of your little harem bunnies.”

  There were nights, though, when she would have begged to be at least that much. She needed, ached, prayed that one day she would feel secure enough to let him hold her for a little while. For a night.

  “It would be a damned sight better for both of us if you were,” he muttered before turning and stalking to the front door. “I’m leaving before I end up saying or doing something we’ll both regret. But this isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.” At the door he turned back to her, his expression tight with such male dominance and complete arrogance that she could only stare back at him in surprise and disbelief. “Don’t even think I won’t be back, because I promise you I will be. And when I do, you and I are going to have a few things to discuss.”

  With that, he jerked the front door open and stalked out. The door slammed behind him, the force rattling the panes of glass in the metal door.

  Kenni could only stare at the entrance, blinking in shock. He had to be the most irritating human she had ever met in her life. He didn’t make a damned bit of sense. Evidently, in ten years that hadn’t changed a bit.

  But his kisses were like potent wine. Her senses filled with the memory of them as her hand lifted, her fingers touching the still-swollen curves. And even as irritated as she was with him, she wished his lips were still on hers, his hands caressing her. Even knowing it could never go farther than a night or two in his arms, she ached for it.

  She ached for him.

  And she couldn’t have him, at least not for long. Not long enough to endanger him, not long enough for him to figure out the lies she was living.

  Moving slowly back to the bedroom, she resigned herself to the ache Jazz created in her body. Her nipples were so hard that the rasp of her bra was almost unbearable. The swollen bud of her clit was aching with such heated need, she knew there would be no easing it for a while.

  She hadn’t known how hot, how intense she could burn in his arms.

  She hadn’t known how deep regret could be, or how much it could hurt to know that her time with him would be short, whether she went to his bed or not.

  Her time as well as her life were limited, she feared. Because as soon as the Kin realized where she was, she would die. If she didn’t learn who was trying to kill her and who had murdered her mother, then there would be no chance of survival. Risking Jazz to that fate was something she couldn’t bear to do—and something she feared he wouldn’t allow her to walk away from if he even suspected her real identity. God, she prayed daily he didn’t, because Jazz would be the hardest one to escape.

  CHAPTER 5

  She was being watched, not hunted as she had been in the past, but Kenni could feel that vulnerable sense of eyes on her, tracking her movements and following her as she left the house a few mornings later. Keeping her steps relaxed and unhurried, she walked the few blocks to the café where she and Jessie met for coffee a few mornings a week.

  This was the first time she’d been followed while walking there. The sensation drove home the fact that she’d perhaps grown complacent because she hadn’t been bothered or noticed by the Kin since arriving in Loudoun.

  For a moment she considered returning to the house and getting the small car she drove. That would only tip them off, though, she feared, let them see that she suspected they were watching her. It would only give her away. Let them wait, wonder. Maybe, just maybe she’d have time to identify who it was before they were certain it was her rather than who she said she was.

  Who was watching her or how they were managing to follow her, Kenni wasn’t certain. There wasn’t much traffic moving through the streets; no single vehicle stood out or passed more than once. No one else jogged or walked along the sidewalk that morning, and no one seemed overly interested in her movements.

  But the feeling was there.

  Her forehead was tight with instinctive awareness, the sensitive skin between her shoulder blades prickling with it.

  This wasn’t the driving awareness of a weapon trained on her, or that hollow ache of panic that came whenever she’d been found before. It was more a feeling of simply not being alone when she knew she should be.

  Keeping her steps purposefully unhurried, Kenni pretended she was simply enjoying the warm summer morning. If she had to run, she would; if she had to fight, she could. For the moment, though, she pretended to be completely unaware that she was being watched.

  The light tan capris and white tank top matched with leather sandals she wore weren’t the ideal clothes to have to run in, but she’d learned to be prepared over the years. She could get to more durable clothes within minutes if she had to. Gunny had taught her to never allow herself to be caught unprepared or without the clothes and
tools she needed to survive.

  Charles “Gunny” Jones had been her mother’s half brother, one Kenni had never known existed until the night of her mother’s murder. He’d shown up the night of the fire to meet with her mother, his deep-brown eyes filled with concern when he’d met Kenni. Later that night Kenni had walked in on her mother’s murderer and nearly become a casualty herself.

  She forced the memory back. She couldn’t let herself become mired in the past again. The terror and betrayal she had felt that night had scarred her in ways she knew she’d never recover from. Everything she had believed in had died and all the trust that had been built through her life disintegrated.

  Had it not been for Gunny, she would have died. He’d surged through the smoke and flames just in time to rescue her.

  She’d escaped, but as they ran from the hotel someone else had been waiting. Someone who had put a bullet in her shoulder, leaving a reminder that she would never truly be safe. Her assassin could be waiting anywhere, at any time, if she wasn’t careful not to give herself away.

  Reaching the café Kenni pushed inside, her gaze scanning the area until she spotted Jessie and Slade where they sat on the far side of the room. It wasn’t often Slade came with his wife; he claimed “girl talk” made him itch. Evidently this morning he’d decided to suffer.

  Smiling at the couple Kenni moved across the floor as she hoped—hell, she prayed—Jazz wasn’t with them. She’d had all she could deal with this week when it came to the local Romeo.

  Jazz had been far different at twenty-three, she reflected. He had smiled and had fun, but he’d seemed to take relationships more seriously. Not that she’d known him to really have a relationship, come to think of it, but neither had he been screwing his way through the county.

  “Am I late or are you early?” Kenni asked as she took the seat across from the couple and smiled back at Jessie.

  Three months’ pregnant and glowing with health and Slade’s love, Jessie was radiant. The light, soft white sundress she wore made her eyes appear deeper, darker. It complimented her smooth complexion and dark brown hair while making her look more innocent than she already did.

  “I think we were just very early,” Jessie assured her with a small grin as Slade poured an extra cup of coffee from the carafe at his elbow. “Slade had an errand to run and finished up sooner than he thought he would so we came on over.”

  Adding sugar and cream to the steaming coffee, Kenni glanced at Slade to see his gaze on the bandage on her hand.

  “It wasn’t really that bad,” she assured him, lifting the cup for a much-needed sip. “It just looked like I was bleeding out.”

  “It did indeed,” he agreed. “Jazz mentioned running by your place to check on you after you left. Did he make it?”

  Kenni lifted her head and glared at him as Jessie’s smothered laughter had his lips kicking up at one corner.

  “I thought you two liked me.” Sitting back in her chair, she stared at the two in disappointment.

  “We do like you, sweetie,” Jessie assured her, her brown eyes sparkling with amused affection. “I’ve just never seen Jazz like this. He doesn’t know if he should be sweet or irritated with you. It’s kind of cute.”

  “It’s kind of scary.” Slade grimaced, though his gray eyes gleamed with his own amusement. “I used to be able to predict what he’ll do. That’s not working anymore.”

  Kenni’s brow lifted before she gave a little roll of her eyes. “You’re telling me this why? It’s not my fault the man is completely psycho.”

  Slade snorted at the accusation. “He’s more psycho than normal, then,” he pointed out. “Actually, Jessie’s right, Jazz isn’t normally so focused on one woman. I consider that a good thing. On a good day.”

  Her mocking comment was forestalled by the waitress. As she took their orders the old-fashioned bell above the entrance door announced new arrivals.

  The couple that walked into the room was so unexpected, the sight of them such a shock, that only years of training helped her maintain her composure.

  It was all she could do to set her coffee cup on the table and force her fingers not to tremble. In the time she and Jessie had been coming to the café this was the first time she’d seen members of the Maddox family there.

  The Maddox Clan headed the Kin, a mountain-based militia group with tentacles reaching from one coast to another. What had begun as a small anchor group decades before her birth had turned into much more before she’d been forced to disappear. So much more that no matter where she’d run, they’d managed to find her.

  Moving slowly across the room, the current wife of the head of the Clan, Lucia Neely Maddox, moved gracefully across the floor. Her long dark hair was piled haphazardly on her head and held with a clip. White linen shorts and a matching sleeveless blouse were paired with a pale yellow belt and matching strappy leather sandals. She looked cool and relaxed, and distant. Despite the friendly smile curving her pale-pink lips, Kenni could still see the cool reservation in the other woman’s expression.

  Behind her the eldest son of the family moved like a predator, his intense emerald-green eyes narrowed and suspicious as he watched everything while appearing to watch nothing.

  Cord Maddox was rumored to be even harder, colder, than his father. He oversaw the Kin in the area and kept up with those in other areas while running his teams with a fierce determination that made a drill sergeant look like a Sunday school teacher.

  And he and Mrs. Maddox were headed toward the table where she sat with Jessie and Slade. Now, wasn’t that just what she needed?

  “Annie, I was hoping to go to the school and clean out the classroom sometime this week,” Jessie stated, dragging Kenni’s attention to her. “My resignation was official the last day of school.” Her smile was excited but tinged with a hint of regret. “I thought I’d get everything ready for the new teacher they’re bringing in.”

  Lucia Maddox and her stepson were right behind them.

  “New teachers are always welcome, but we’ll miss you, Jessie.” Lucia Maddox moved to the side of the table, allowing her to face Jessie.

  “Luce, how are you?” Pleased surprise filled Jessie’s face.

  Rising from her chair, Jessie moved around her husband to give the other woman a warm, welcoming hug. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine,” Lucia answered, the warm smile that curved her lips not reaching the somber blue eyes. “Things have just been incredibly busy. I saw Slade’s car parked outside and hoped you were here. I hadn’t seen you in forever.”

  “Sit with us.” Jessie waved her hand to the extra chairs at a nearby empty table. “Have a cup of coffee. It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”

  “Cord?” Luce turned back to her stepson. “Are we in a hurry?”

  She could feel his eyes on her, probing, icy cold. She knew that brilliant-green gaze would be like shards of emerald ice. Suspicion was a part of him, so deeply ingrained that she doubted he’d ever trust anyone.

  “I’m sorry, Luce.” Cool and lacking any regret he answered her, his deep voice pitched low. “I have to get those papers back to the house for Dad to go over.” He turned to Slade then. “I hear congratulations are in order, though.” A quirk of his lips hinted at the sincerity of the expression as Cord extended his hand to Slade.

  “Thank you.” Slade’s grin was proud as hell.

  Yes, the ties that bound Slade, Jazz, and Zack to the Kin were still just as tight as ever, if not tighter. It was there in the undercurrents of familiarity and friendship, as well as a hint of wariness the two men shared with each other.

  “Ready then?” Cord turned to Luce, his powerful shoulders shifting, tension rippling beneath them.

  “Of course.” A little moue of disappointment shaped her lips as she turned back to Jessie. “I’m sorry, hon, maybe you could come out to the house one morning for coffee? Your friend could come as well. Annie, isn’t it? You’re a teacher as well?”

  “I’m so rude,�
�� Jessie exclaimed in horror. “Annie, this is Luce Maddox and her stepson Cord. They live in that big old creepy house everyone talks about farther up the mountain.” The laughter in Jessie’s voice had Luce’s eyes crinkling for a second in amusement. “Luce, Cord, this is one of our kindergarten teachers, Annie Mayes.”

  “Mrs. Maddox.” Kenni accepted her handshake, thankful her palms hadn’t become damp with nerves. “Mr. Maddox.”

  His handshake was firm, his palms callused. She was careful not to look at him directly, certain if she did then he would see her for the liar she was. Her brothers had always known the second they looked in her eyes that she was lying, or so they had always claimed.

  “My father is Mr. Maddox,” he seemed to growl. “I’m just Cord.”

  “And ‘just’ Cord will drive like a lunatic if I don’t let him leave,” Luce laughed softly. “Annie, do join Jessie and come for coffee one day. I’d love to visit.”

  “Of course,” Kenni murmured.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell. She wouldn’t step into that house if her life depended on it right now.

  Cord might think she hadn’t seen the dark hint of disapproval in his expression when Lucia made the suggestion, but she had. Not that it mattered; he had nothing to fear where a visit from her was concerned.

  Luce said her good-byes and moved ahead of Cord to leave. The brevity of the visit was frightening. They couldn’t stay for coffee but they could stop, come into the café, and make a point of mentioning that she was only there to say hello to Jessie and Slade? There was more to it.

  “Well, that’s Luce for you,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “I’d have thought she’d have stayed a minute to chat.”

  The worry in Jessie’s voice had Kenni watching her curiously.

  “Poor Luce,” Jessie said softly as Cord and his stepmother disappeared from view.

  “Poor Luce?” Kenni turned to her, deliberately keeping the inquiry in her tone mild. “Is she okay?”