by Shelly Bell
Better make it count, then.
His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to bruise her as he slammed himself into her. In fact, if he hadn’t been holding on to her, he’d probably knock her right off the bed with the force. But she didn’t complain or call out her safe word. Instead, she arched her spine and met him thrust for thrust. Like a song, she chanted his name, every now and then throwing in a few prayers to God to break up the monotony.
“Ryder, I need—”
“I’ve got you, dirty girl.” He reached around and flicked her clit.
It was all she needed. She cried out as her legs trembled and her pussy clamped down on him, over and over. He wanted to hold off, to give her one more orgasm, but he’d been riding the edge for an hour and her contractions set him off. The pressure in his groin hit its pinnacle and his climax barreled into him, emptying his mind and his cock as spurt after spurt of come filled the condom.
He didn’t know how it was possible, but every time they fucked was better than the last.
Catching his breath, he wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her to him. They fell backward and collapsed together on the mattress. Sighing with what he hoped was contentment, she rested her head on his chest and brushed her hand over the patch of hair on his lower stomach.
Her skin was pink and sweaty, her hair frizzy and wild, and all her makeup was smeared around her eyes. And she had never looked more beautiful.
Her hair tickled him as she lifted her head. “I need to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” he asked, sweeping back the strands that fell over her eyes and tucking them behind her ear. Of course, her silky hair fell forward almost immediately.
“Earlier today, your father asked me to…get to know you.”
He froze as his stomach rolled and bitterness replaced the sweetness in his mouth. “What?”
Jane pressed her lips together. “He told me that he witnessed the sparks between us and thought I could”—she shook her head—“date you and use the opportunity to convince you that he’s changed.”
Leave it to Keane to ruin a perfect moment.
Ryder sat up, needing a bit of space. “Is that why you agreed to have dinner with me tonight?”
“No,” she said gently. She held the blanket to her chest, covering herself as she sat up too. “Even if I didn’t know how you feel about him, I’m not the type of person who would do that. If anything, it made me less inclined to date you.”
He wanted to believe her. If she really had slept with him as a favor to his father, she wouldn’t have brought this subject up to him, right?
Or had Tristan been right?
Did Ryder suffer from a blind spot when it came to Jane?
No.
He shook off his doubts, knowing it had nothing to do with Jane and everything to do with his father. Keane was the one he didn’t trust.
Running his fingers through his hair, he got off the bed. “Keane wears a very good mask, but make no mistake…he’s a monster, Jane. The things he’s done…things he’s gotten away with…It kills me to even have you working for him, to tell you the truth. For Keane, people are just chess pieces to move around on a board. He plays with lives without any regard to feelings.”
“Okay, I admit he can be manipulative, but a monster?” Jane said, frowning. “That’s pretty extreme. Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?”
He wished. But after years of witnessing his father’s misdeeds, he knew exactly what that man was capable of. “So you’ve never witnessed anything suspicious going on at McKay?” he probed.
Her eyes widened momentarily before returning to normal. Turning her back to him, she walked to her dresser. “No. Why would you ask that?” She pulled out an oversized Michigan State T-shirt and slid it over her naked body.
He didn’t believe her.
But he wouldn’t push her on it…for now.
That didn’t mean he’d allow her to continue putting herself in harm’s way.
He scooped his clothes off the floor and began dressing. “Because I don’t have any proof to offer you of my father’s misdeeds, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t occur.”
Misdeeds that continued to haunt his nightmares.
Once he finished putting on his clothes, he crossed over to her and took her hands in his. “You and Maddox are mine now and I take care of what’s mine. Be a stay-at-home mom to Maddox or find another job that isn’t for my father. Anything you want. Just quit your job at McKay.”
She wrenched her hands out of his. “Quit? Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I can’t just quit. I’m a division head at a multi-million-dollar corporation. I barely know you and you barely know me.” Her fists went to her hips. “Just because you’re Maddox’s biological father doesn’t mean you have the right to tell me what to do and how to live my life. I won’t throw away my career because you have some daddy issues.”
He took a step toward her. “Jane—”
She lifted a hand, signaling him to stay away from her. “Get out.”
Her rejection was like a lance to his chest.
“I’m not giving up on us, Jane.” But he’d give her some time to cool off and reconsider. As he walked out of the room, he gave her one last glance over shoulder. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
THIRTEEN
As the elevator closed, Jane pressed the button for the tenth floor of McKay Industries and blinked back the blurriness in her eyes.
It had been only hours since Ryder had walked out of her apartment and she was still furious with him.
She couldn’t believe he’d had the gall to ask her to quit her job. Whatever his issue was with Keane, he had no business bringing her and Maddox into it.
Jane took a step back as a few people walked onto the elevator. Normally she’d plaster a smile on her face and make small talk with the other employees, but today she wasn’t in the mood. Instead, she kept her gaze on her shoes, avoiding any eye contact.
All night she’d lain awake trying to make sense of Ryder’s request. She knew that he harbored anger at his father, but was that any reason to expect her to quit her job?
She didn’t understand Ryder.
Yes, Keane had been out of line in asking her to date Ryder to put in a good word for him, but that didn’t make him a monster.
Ryder didn’t know how fortunate he was to have a father and brother who not only loved him, but also wanted him to be a part of their lives. She would have given anything to have that.
But she didn’t have to think about Ryder now. At work, she could focus on the tasks for the day and put all her personal crap on the back burner. Between her own accounts and the ones she’d taken on for Evan, she had plenty to keep her busy. And she still needed to tell Keane about Evan’s email.
She headed down the hallway to her office, noting the unusual hush on the floor. A foreboding crept down her neck. Passing by Barbara’s empty desk, she immediately knew something was wrong. The woman had never missed a day of work and by this time of day, even if she wasn’t behind her desk, she always had a steaming mug of tea waiting for her on it.
Jane didn’t bother going to her office. Instead, she turned around and got back on the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. She pulled at the collar of her blouse, the fabric suddenly too tight around her neck. Sweat popped up on her forehead as she told herself she was probably overreacting. Barbara deserved a day off. Perhaps she had finally decided to use it. Or maybe she had taken her tea with her when she’d been called to someone’s office. Maybe Jane would get off this elevator and go to Keane’s office where she would find Barbara, tea in hand. Maybe she had been reassigned and the icy hot prickles snaking around Jane’s chest were a result of no sleep.
Maybe…
As the elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Jane heard the weeping confirmation. The first thing she saw was Keane’s third assistant dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while speaking to a uniformed policeman.
As if it
would keep the bad news at bay, Jane held her breath as she approached Keane’s office. She didn’t bother stopping to talk to anyone or wait for permission from his first assistant to go through Keane’s closed door. With shaky hands, she turned the knob and strode inside. Keane spoke to a police officer in a hushed tone. His eyes were narrowed, his hands clenched, and his posture ramrod stiff as he spoke in a hushed tone. To her, he looked as if he was reprimanding the officer. But why?
Almost immediately, Keane’s gaze fell upon Jane and his whole demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped, his eyes softened, and his hands opened.
A shiver passed through her.
Keane nodded once, acknowledging her presence. “Jane.”
For some reason, she stayed by the door. “Tell me,” she demanded, surprised by the steel in her voice.
“This is Jane Cooper,” Keane said to the officer as he motioned for her to join their little tête-à-tête by the desk. “She also works in the innovation division.”
She strode to them and read DETECTIVE MORAN off the name tag he wore over his right breast. “Who is it this time?”
Keane took her hand and patted it. Maybe he’d meant for it to come off as comforting, but instead she felt patronized. “Barbara. She died last night.”
She removed her hand from his grasp and crossed her arms. “With all due respect, there are two policemen here. I think there’s more to the story.”
“Ma’am, we’re here because a neighbor used her key and found your coworker and her husband deceased in their bed after she heard an alarm going off in their home,” Detective Moran said. “The neighbor called the ambulance and by the time paramedics got to the home, the woman who reported it had passed out. Testing showed it was due to carbon monoxide poisoning.”
She blinked back the tears. At least Barbara died in her sleep. “Oh my God.”
“It was likely an accident,” the detective said, glancing at Keane before returning his attention to her, “but we have to investigate, especially in light of your other coworker’s recent suicide.”
What was that look for?
“Do you think it was related?” she asked, a heaviness filling her chest.
“I’m sorry. I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation. When was the last time you spoke with Barbara?”
He was asking the right questions. Maybe she’d misinterpreted his interactions with Keane.
“Yesterday right before I left,” she answered. “Around five. She said she was staying late because she was copying files for me.”
“Well, that’s all I need at this time.” Detective Moran shook Keane’s hand. “Mr. McKay, thank you for speaking with us.” He turned to her and handed her a card. “Ms. Cooper, if you have any information that might aid us in this investigation, please call me.”
After the detective left, Jane turned to her boss. He owed her some answers. “Keane.”
He opened his arms wide, inviting her in for a hug. “Come here, Jane.”
Wary, she went into his embrace, but instead of staying there and allowing him to comfort her, she gave him a brief squeeze and took a step back. “I just don’t understand. First Evan and now Barbara.”
If he noticed her acting unusual, he didn’t say anything. “It’s a damn shame. I’ve known Barbara for many years. She was a part of the McKay family.”
“Keane, be honest. Do you think it’s possible that Evan and Barbara were murdered?”
He harrumphed and waved a hand, dismissing the idea. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re completely unrelated tragedies.”
“But even the officer—”
“Drop it, Jane,” he said. His jaw was noticeably rigid. “Let the police do their jobs and stay out of their way.”
How could he be so certain? Evan and Barbara were both in the innovations department. For heaven’s sake, Barbara worked directly for Evan. What if Barbara had figured out Evan’s death wasn’t a suicide?
“But if—”
His face turned red. “Let it go, Jane!”
She flinched at his tone. Never once had he lost his temper with her. Her heart was beating like a drum against her chest as every word Ryder had ever uttered about Keane suddenly rang true.
He was hiding something from her just as she was hiding something from him. But not telling him that he was Maddox’s grandfather wasn’t the same as lying about two employees’ deaths.
Before, she’d been certain about the type of man Keane McKay was.
Now she realized she barely knew him at all.
She covered her heart with her hand and sniffed, playing the part Keane expected her to play. The naïve protégé who followed his every instruction to the letter and never challenged him. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just emotional.”
“Of course you are,” Keane said, buying her act. “That’s understandable. But I have every confidence you’ll put it out of your mind and be a role model for the others. Later this morning, I’ll be issuing a statement to all the employees and speaking to all of management personally, but in the meantime, I don’t want to hear any rumors or innuendo about these terrible tragedies being related.”
Two of his employees had died and he was worried about interoffice chatter?
Any lingering idea of informing him about Evan’s email died.
Maybe Ryder had been right.
Was she truly in danger by working for Keane?
She adjusted her glasses. “I can’t stop people from wondering.”
“No, but you can make sure people are performing their jobs to the best of their ability, which means they’ll be too busy to gossip.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you will. Have you given any thought to what we discussed?”
This was the moment.
She should tell him why his request had been inappropriate and that she wouldn’t do it. At least if he fired her, she’d be safe.
But instead, she found herself saying, “Yes, I’ve decided I’d like to help you. In fact, Ryder and I had dinner last night.”
If Keane was involved in anything criminal, she needed to find out. And she wouldn’t be able to do that if she no longer worked at McKay Industries.
If Ryder had been telling her the truth about Keane, then she couldn’t let him find out that Ryder was Maddox’s father.
Or know that she had feelings for Ryder.
Not until she figured out what Keane was hiding.
Until then, she’d play along.
“Good. Good,” Keane said, bobbing his head. “I’m sure he has some strong opinions of me, but I hope you know me well enough to realize Ryder’s thoughts are filtered through his own biases. I admit to making mistakes with him, but it’s time to leave it all in the past before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
What did he mean? Was that a threat?
He gave her a sad smile. “I’m not a young man, Jane. I’d like to make peace with my son before I die. You can’t know how much it means to me to have you on my side.”
Guilt swarmed her and her stomach twisted. As a rule, she hated lying. But what choice did she have? If Keane did have something to do with Barbara’s and Evan’s deaths, then lying was a necessary evil.
Jane didn’t believe for a second that their deaths weren’t related. Maybe she could believe it if Evan hadn’t come to the wedding to talk to her or hadn’t sent the email. Maybe if Barbara hadn’t been Evan’s assistant.
After leaving Keane’s office, she headed to her own. A few people tried to stop and chat with her along the way, but she apologized for not having time to talk and kept going. She was determined to see if Barbara had left her the SD card with the files on them as she’d promised.
Once inside her office, she scanned the room, but nothing appeared out of place and there was no sign of the SD card. Standing nervously at her desk, she listened to her messages and checked her emails, surprised that there wasn’t one from Barbara.
D
id that mean she hadn’t finished copying the files for Jane?
Jane spent the rest of the morning consoling employees. Unlike her, no one seemed to link the two deaths together, and several times, she found herself wondering if she was just being paranoid. But then she’d remember the way Keane had acted earlier, how he’d seemed to be admonishing the cop when she’d walked into his office, and how he’d grown angry when she questioned him about the possibility of the two deaths being connected, and she knew deep in her gut that he knew more than he was telling her.
Evan and Barbara had been her employees. That made Jane responsible for them. She owed it to them to find out the truth.
She had to search Evan’s office and Barbara’s desk. For what she wasn’t certain, but they must have left some clue behind. Something that would indicate a reason for their senseless deaths.
By six, most of the employees had left for the day, giving Jane the perfect opportunity to do some sleuthing. She started in Barbara’s cubicle. It felt odd to be sitting in the same chair where Barbara had sat only the day before, alive and well. The elderly woman had kept her space immaculate. Other than a couple family photos and knickknacks, the desk was clean of clutter.
Jane turned on Barbara’s computer. Its low hum filled the quiet as it booted up.
Her pulse sped up and her knee nervously bounced as she waited. A pins-and-needles sensation crept up her neck. She had the feeling of being watched. She peered around the cubicle, but no one was there.
The computer beeped, drawing her attention. Once it displayed the home screen, she clicked on File Explorer and searched the recent documents. There was no record of Barbara copying any files.
She smacked her forehead with her hand. Of course. Barbara would have used Evan’s computer.
Inside his office, everything had been packed into boxes except for his computer and a single picture frame.
She pressed the power button on the CPU, but nothing happened. Frowning, she checked the wires to make sure the computer was plugged into the electrical outlet. That didn’t appear to be the problem. Again, she tried to turn on the computer, but it was dead.