Inevitable

by Michelle Rowen

  She really, really meant it.

  RYAN WAITED AT A British-style pub called O’Grady’s where he knew Stephen went every night at eight o’clock for a beer and a game of darts. It was a ritual they used to share.

  If Charlotte was in on this, Stephen likely was, too. And Ryan wanted to know, for sure, if Stephen was the “partner” Franklin had referred to at his mansion earlier.

  If so, then Ryan’s ex-girlfriend and his best friend had conspired to destroy his life. That didn’t sit well with him. At all.

  Right on time, Stephen walked in. Ryan sat on a stool at the bar and tried to pretend he wasn’t laying in wait, like a hungry lion watching a back-stabbing gazelle approach a slow-moving river to quench its thirst.

  “Holy shit,” he heard from behind him. “Ryan Shephard?”

  Ryan forced surprise to show on his face as he turned around. “Stephen Robbins. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? I should ask you the same question.” Stephen wore a short-sleeve button-down shirt and black pants. Ryan couldn’t help but note the expensive Italian loafers. And that wasn’t all that had changed. Stephen’s light brown hair wasn’t as messy as it used to be. Instead, it was styled, which made Ryan think his old friend had been going to a salon and paying big bucks to try to look like something out of GQ. And he wore a gold Rolex on his left wrist, a lot like the one Xavier Franklin had sported. It wasn’t exactly something your average paranormal investigator could afford.

  Ryan wasn’t an official investigator anymore, but even he could spot the clues when they were so blatantly obvious.

  “Yeah,” Ryan grinned. “I’m back.”

  Stephen glanced over his shoulder, as if scanning the bar to see if anyone would witness him speaking with someone who was persona non grata in the general area. Then he slid onto the stool directly next to Ryan. “It’s seriously great to see you. I’ve missed you, man.”

  “Thanks.” Ryan tried to loosen his grip on the mug of draft in front of him. Stephen was acting too friendly. This would be much easier if he was a complete dick.

  “You doing okay?” Stephen asked after he flagged down the bartender and ordered a mug of the same beer Ryan was drinking.

  “Never better.”

  Stephen frowned. “I’m surprised you’re here. Any reason? Or are you just looking for trouble?”

  “I’m looking for trouble all right. I’m here because of Emma.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Stephen’s brows went up. “What about her?”

  “What do you think?”

  Stephen studied him for a moment before his smile returned. “She is pretty damn hot.”

  “She is.”

  He snorted. “I will admit to having a few fantasies involving those sexy high heels she wears.”

  Ryan tried to ignore the stab of jealousy that statement brought forth. They were just two guys talking at a bar. Casual. He had to draw out the truth any way he could. Punching Stephen in the face might not help matters.

  “I’m not sure Charlotte would approve of those fantasies,” Ryan said pointedly.

  Stephen looked at him guardedly. “So I’m guessing that you know about me and Charlotte.”

  “That would be a good guess.”

  He shrugged. “Sorry. You were out of the picture and she was available.”

  Ryan watched the bartender move to the end of the counter and wipe the top off with a wet cloth. This was his chance. He’d decided that his best plan of attack was to try to drive a wedge between Stephen and Charlotte, which might help loosen Stephen’s tongue. He didn’t have to reach too far to figure out a way to do just that.

  “Charlotte hit on me yesterday,” he said.

  “What?” Stephen growled.

  “She followed me to my motel yesterday and kissed me. In fact, she wanted to do more than that, but I told her to get lost.”

  Stephen stared at him incredulously. “Charlotte kissed you. Yesterday.”

  Ryan waved his hand flippantly. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in her anymore.”

  “I think you should leave now,” Stephen said in a menacing tone. “I’d forgotten that you’re not wanted around here anymore. We don’t like thieves and liars.”

  Ryan studied his face. This man had been his friend. And there was a chance that Stephen knew nothing about Charlotte’s dealings with Franklin. If so, Stephen needed to separate himself from the situation as fast as he could.

  “Charlotte…” he said. “She’s no good. And she’s going to drag you down if you let her.”

  “Listen carefully to me, Shephard,” Stephen said between clenched teeth, “If you go near Charlotte again, you’ll be sorry. Stick with your little smut writer.”

  Ryan’s shoulders stiffened. “Excuse me?”

  Stephen glared at him. “Charlotte told me that Emma wrote a dirty book and is trying to keep it a secret from everyone.” He smirked. “I guess that means she’s a hellcat in the sack, right? Who knew?”

  Ryan curled his hand into a fist at his side and counted to ten in his head. He wasn’t going to get any answers from Stephen tonight. His former friend had always been a hothead, quick to anger. “I think it was a mistake to come here.”

  “You’re right. It was.”

  Ryan forced a smile, but his jaw was clenched. “See you around, Stephen.”

  Stephen’s gaze was narrowed as Ryan slipped off his stool and started toward the door. “Just stay the hell away from Charlotte.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ryan replied under his breath as he pushed through the exit door. “She’s all yours.”

  He wanted nothing to do with his lying, cheating ex. Besides, he much preferred his sexy hellcat.

  15

  EMMA STAYED OUT WITH Charlotte for two hours, trying to get to the truth. But the truth didn’t show up. And Emma had to be careful. She couldn’t show her hand completely. It would have been great if she could have just come right out and asked, “Hey Charlotte, saw you at Xavier Franklin’s mansion today. Did you screw Ryan over, steal from the vault and pin it on him to make some extra cash, you selfish bitch?”

  But she couldn’t. And it probably wouldn’t have gotten her the proof she needed to clear Ryan’s name in any case.

  She wondered what would happen when and if they were able to prove his innocence. It didn’t take very long before she knew. He already told her his plans. He was going to move to Florida and work with his brother. He hadn’t considered any other alternatives.

  It was a windy drive back to her house. Emma ran a hand through her hair, pulling out tangles as she went and grabbed her cell phone to check the call display. There were no messages from Ryan. They’d parted ways when she went to meet Charlotte. He was going to go see Stephen. Maybe they’d decided to hang out together and catch up.

  She considered dialing his number or texting him, but decided that it could wait until tomorrow. It was getting late. She parked the car in her garage, pulled the door down behind her, and walked up to her front door, key in hand.

  But then she stilled.

  Something felt off.

  Emma turned around where she stood but she wasn’t sure what it was. A feeling.

  Instead of putting her key into the lock, she tried the doorknob. It turned smoothly in her hand.

  The door was unlocked.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “That’s not good.”

  She slid her hand into her purse and pulled out her gun. A woman living alone really couldn’t be too careful these days, even in a low-crime town like Mystic Ridge.

  The weapon had been a birthday present from her mother four months ago.

  Despite an initial reluctance to carry a gun, Emma liked having it on her for peace of mind. But she’d never found a reason to use it, other than target practice at the firing range she occasionally visited. PARA didn’t require its agents to carry weapons—the job was not typically a high-risk one, aside from errant potions, curses, or ghosts—and bullets weren�
�t much use on them anyway.

  She nudged the door open with her shoulder, planning to take a quick peek inside before falling back and calling the cops. The first thing she saw was a candle on the small table next to the stairway. It was lit.

  “A candle,” she said under her breath. “I’ve got a thief who likes ambient lighting.”

  There was a candle on each of the wooden steps leading to the second floor. She raised an eyebrow.

  “A thief who doesn’t mind causing a fire hazard.”

  She now had a funny feeling she knew who her “thief” was. Keeping the door open with her knee, she glanced over her shoulder and spotted a familiar car parked across the street.

  “Right.” She closed the door so it didn’t make much more than a soft click. “After all, breaking and entering is such a good way to win friends and influence people, Ryan.”

  Emma walked up the stairs slowly, gun still in hand but pointed at the floor. She could be wrong, but she really didn’t think so.

  She nudged open her bedroom door and her breath caught.

  It was the scene from her novel Inevitable, the one right near the end. The room was filled with light from a hundred lit candles. Her bed, with its white duvet, was scattered with red rose petals. It was beautiful and it took her breath away.

  “Well?” Ryan asked. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing at the top of the stairs with two glasses of wine in hand.

  “Am I dreaming?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “So what you’re telling me is you broke into my house when I wasn’t here and lit a million candles in my bedroom.”

  His gaze moved to the gun she held. “Hmm. So you’re saying this wasn’t one of my more brilliant ideas?”

  She tried very hard not to smile. “I could have shot you.”

  “When did you become Annie Oakley, anyway?”

  “Recently. A woman has to protect herself from…undesirables.”

  “I’m feeling a bit threatened now that I’m facing a strong-willed, armed and dangerous woman,” Ryan said, and he grinned. “It’s kind of kinky.”

  A hint of laughter escaped her.

  He placed the wineglasses down on her dresser. “I’m sorry. Maybe this was a stupid idea.”

  Her gaze swept the room again. “This is from my book, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced, and waved a hand at the fantasy he’d created for her. “Ta da.”

  After putting the gun back into her purse, then pushing the bag in the corner, she took hold of his shirt and drew him closer to her. “As surprises go, this is actually really sweet.”

  “Perhaps I’ll let you know about any future surprises ahead of time. Of course, then they wouldn’t exactly be surprises anymore, would they?”

  “Or maybe I’ll just give you a key to my house.” She made the offer without thinking and then bit her bottom lip. “I mean, if you want one.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A key to Emma Black’s private home. This is quite an honor. Then I wouldn’t have to pick the lock.”

  “That was the general idea.” She glanced at the wine. “I think I need that.”

  Ryan gave her one of the glasses. “Rough night?”

  Her momentarily pleasant mood soured. “I can’t believe Charlotte would do something like this.”

  “I can’t believe it either.”

  She looked at him sharply. “You dated her.”

  He shrugged. “She was hot.”

  She frowned for a moment, and then sighed. “You know, I can’t really argue with that.”

  Ryan slid his hand down her arm. “You’re hotter.”

  She couldn’t help smiling, and she felt a flutter of emotion in her chest. “Yeah, right.”

  “You don’t have to believe me. The fact that I know I’m telling the truth is enough for me.” He slid his fingers into her hair. “Did you find anything out?”

  “Nothing. Not one damn thing that would substantiate her being the thief who supplied Xavier Franklin and who knows how many other collectors with stolen merchandise.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Emma looked up at him. “You’re the one who should be frustrated. We’re trying to clear your name and we keep coming up against brick walls.”

  “Speaking of brick walls, I spoke with Stephen. I didn’t get anything from him, empathic or otherwise. I can’t tell if he’s got anything to do with Charlotte’s schemes or not. I do know he hates me. When I told him about Charlotte coming on to me, he didn’t take it very well.”

  Emma frowned. “Did you get into a fight?”

  “Not tonight. But it’s only a matter of time if I stay around town much longer.”

  She shook her head. “Anything I can do to help?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A kiss might help.”

  “Way to keep your mind on the problem at hand.”

  He grinned. “Is that a no?”

  She glared at him, but then couldn’t help but smile. She tugged on his shoulders for him to lean over a little and she brushed her lips against his. “How’s that?”

  His gaze heated. “A nice start.”

  When she’d returned to her house, she hadn’t felt anything but disappointment over Charlotte and a gnawing feeling in her stomach that things weren’t going to turn out well. Now, all she felt was an aching need for this man who stood in front of her. She was afraid her feelings for him would only lead her to heartbreak, but she tried not to worry about that now.

  The lust potion’s effects were gone, which meant what she felt for Ryan was the real deal. There was no magic at work here other than honest-to-goodness desire.

  “I’ll tell you the truth,” she whispered, pulling his face down to hers.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ve been trying to get me to admit that my hero in the book is inspired by you?”

  “And?”

  “He was. And now I have this burning need to write another one. I thought I’d gotten it out of my system, but…so many fantasies are running through my mind.” She shook her head. “It’s very distracting.”

  A smile stretched his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Ryan. It’s crazy, I know. When you were with Charlotte, I was really jealous. I crumpled those feelings up in a ball and tried to throw them away so it wouldn’t affect me. And then, when I saw you—when I thought I saw you steal that night—it helped me push them back even faster. When I was writing the book though, everything just sort of poured out. I didn’t even do it consciously. I didn’t realize at the time that Bryan was based on you, although now it’s totally obvious to me. Everything I felt was thrown into that book. Maybe that’s why I don’t like very many people to know I wrote it, because it shows too much of what’s going on inside me.”

  “All I can say is that it’s an honor you felt that way about me.” He frowned. “Well, except for the part when you hated my guts.”

  “I never hated your guts.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “I wanted to. But I didn’t. And when I saw you at the masquerade party…it brought everything back. Everything I’d felt, everything I’d fantasized about.” She glanced at the bed strewn with rose petals. “And now this.”

  “Overkill?” He raised an eyebrow.

  She grinned. “Nope. It’s perfect, actually.”

  Ryan slid his fingers into her hair. “You do crazy things to me, Em.”

  She almost laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

  He snorted softly, but his gaze deepened. “I mean you do crazy things to me here.” He took her hand in his and pressed it against his chest, over his heart.

  Her own heart twisted and she felt that little part of her that was still hanging on, dangling on the side of the cliff, let go completely and fall…down…down…

  Ryan kissed her and there were no more troubled thoughts, no worries, no stress about the future. There was only here
and now. With Ryan. The man of her fantasies. The man of her reality.

  Emma tugged at his shirt and he broke off the kiss long enough for her to pull it off over his head. Then she slid her hands down the hard planes of his chest and down his rippled abdomen.

  “I want you, Ryan.” Her voice was raspy.

  Any previous humor departed and she could see the need she felt for him reflected in his expression. “I want you, too.”

  She smelled the soft, sweet scent of the rose petals as he pressed her back against the bed. His hands fumbled as he helped her pull off her sweater, unhooked her bra, and bared her from the waist up. His eyes raked over her and his gaze darkened.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “You’re not so bad, yourself.” Her hands were at the waist of his jeans and she quickly undid the button and slid the zipper down, then pushed the pants down over his hips so she could wrap her hand around him. She kissed his chest, sliding her lips and tongue down lower. She didn’t do more than slide her tongue over the tip of his cock before he pulled back. She looked up at him with surprise.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s time for that later,” he said. “But right now it’s my turn.”

  He nudged her back onto the bed and undid her skirt, pulling it off, leaving her there wearing only her panties. He stepped out of his jeans and pushed off his shoes and socks.

  “Damn it, you make me so hard, Em,” he said.

  She hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them off, then leaned back against the silky bed spread and parted her legs to bare herself to him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  He grinned, his chest moving with quickening breath. “You are a wicked woman.”

  She grinned back at him. “You have no idea.”

  “I think I do have an idea now. Cool on the surface, but hot as lava underneath.”

  She pulled him down on top of her, hooking her hands behind his neck and kissing him, spreading her legs wider so she could feel his hard cock brush against the slickness of her sex. “Enough talk, Ryan. I need you inside of me. Now.”