Last Kiss

by Laurelin Paige

  “Reeve?”

  He said nothing.

  I stepped up behind him, my hand hovering just above his back. But the barrier around him was so obtrusive, I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. I let my hand fall to my side. “Say something.”

  “I broke my promise.” He didn’t even glance at me.

  “It’s fine. I wanted you to.” I’d wanted him to fuck me then almost as badly as I wished he’d wrap me in his arms and hold me now.

  “I know.” He turned to face me, his expression cold and resolute. “But I’m not doing it again. This is the last time I’m fucking you until you decide we’re together.” Without another word, he crossed the clearing and disappeared up the trail.

  As though he’d shut off the main breaker to my buzz, my world dimmed. The hum in my body silenced and the cloud that had lifted in our interlude returned, darker than ever.

  Numbly, I trudged up the path toward the house. There were things to process and absorb – the last hour, the last six months. My entire life. But I didn’t have the bandwidth to even try. I was tired. I was incapable.

  I’d assumed Reeve had gone back to the house, but when I got to the top of the path, he was in the garden with Filip. And Amber.

  He was bent over the fountain, as if examining the contents. In my anesthetized state, I couldn’t tell if the air was tense, or if it was just me. But one look at Amber’s face, her expression both distraught and horrified, told me something was wrong.

  “What’s going on?” I asked tentatively.

  It was Filip who answered. “The fish are all dead.”

  “What?” I peered into the fountain and immediately started to tremble. The water in the basin had been emptied, but all the fish that had been inside, maybe a hundred of them, were dead on the bottom.

  The sight was chilling. More chilling was the gut notion that it had been deliberate.

  “I came by here on my run earlier,” I said, trying to remember if I’d seen anything odd. “Shit. I didn’t pay attention to the fountain. I don’t know if they were alive then or not.” They weren’t flopping around now, but they didn’t smell yet. How long did it take for fish out of water to die?

  “Whatever happened, it was an accident, I’m sure,” Reeve said. “A leak in the drain.” His body language said he didn’t believe that.

  “No. It’s not. It’s a message,” Amber cried, and while I thought she was being a bit histrionic, Vilanakis had been my first thought too.

  “It’s not a message,” Reeve snapped. “It’s a coincidence.”

  Filip shook his head and held up a portion of the hose that recycled the water from the bottom of the fountain to the top basin. There was no way it hadn’t been cut. On purpose.

  Amber’s crying escalated sharply. “He wants me dead! Don’t you get it? That’s what he’s been saying. Like the dog. Now the fish.”

  “It’s not possible. He couldn’t get here.” Reeve seemed truly baffled, although it was hard to get a true read on him since he was doing his best not to make eye contact with me.

  “Somehow he did,” Amber insisted. “Maybe he got to one of your men. But he’s here. I know it.” She thrust herself into Reeve’s arms. “You have to go after him. There’s nowhere I’m safe anymore. He won’t stop until he gets to me.”

  I tried to be compassionate. I tried to remind myself that she was sincerely scared.

  Reeve patted her back consolingly. “Shh. I won’t allow that.”

  “If he could get here, he could get me in my room,” she said, her voice muffled as she cried into his shirt. The shirt that had only recently been wrapped around my neck while Reeve had ordered me to beg him to fuck me. “He could kill me in my sleep.”

  “He won’t. I won’t let him.” Reeve continued to soothe her.

  I couldn’t help it – I rolled my eyes.

  Amber couldn’t see me from her angle, but Reeve could. He narrowed his gaze in my direction, his features hard and heartless. “Filip,” he said, still looking at me, “please take Amber to get her things together. Then move her into my room so I can keep her safe.”

  CHAPTER 20

  After that, the loneliness of the island became unbearable.

  I rarely saw Amber. She didn’t have any reason to come to my part of the house. The pool by the master bedroom was more convenient, not to mention nearer to the office where Reeve spent his days. More than once, I considered joining her there with my laptop or a book, but really, there wasn’t any point. She barely spoke to me at lunch, and whenever I was close to her and Reeve at the same time, the tension stretched my insides so taut I wasn’t pleasant to be around anyway.

  The nights were the worst. I stopped locking the door to my room, hoping that Reeve would turn the knob and find it open. Hoping he’d sneak in and take me in all the ways he liked. Hoping he hadn’t meant it when he’d said he wouldn’t try anything until I asked him to.

  But the knob never turned. And now, Amber was more of a barrier between us than ever.

  I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the two of them, together, in his bed. I understood why he’d moved her in with him – the master bedroom was the most secure room in the compound. The walls were thicker. Other buildings surrounded it. An intruder couldn’t make it there without going through the other parts of the house, which would trigger the alarm long before the master was encroached. And, of course, if someone did manage to get to her there, she wouldn’t be alone – he’d be with her.

  It was a safety measure. Maybe that was all it was. It was possible that their nights together were innocent. The bed was large. They could sleep next to each other without ever touching.

  But I knew Amber. And I knew Reeve. And they’d been in love once. Was it likely that they would share a bed and not be intimate?

  No. Not likely at all.

  I could manage to keep it from my mind in the daylight, but once the sun went down that was all I thought about – him and her. Him touching her. Him kissing her. Him fucking her.

  It made me itch for him in places I didn’t know could itch – inside my body and out.

  After three days like that, I forced myself to come to terms with two things – I’d been the one to encourage Amber and Reeve to be together, and, now that they were, it was time for me to leave the island.

  I debated joining the two of them for breakfast. I could discuss leaving with both of them at once and get it over with, but it was so hard for me to be near either of them at the moment. Together I’d be distracted by the way they were with each other, searching for innuendo and pretending I didn’t notice when I found it. So, instead, I waited until Amber was snoozing on a lounge in the courtyard and slipped by her to Reeve’s office.

  The wall to his office was open and his back was to me while he worked at his L-shaped desk. It was tempting to watch him for a minute before I made myself known – the muscles in his neck were tight and his shoulders seemed slumped but he was still so magnificent to look at.

  But he always had an uncanny way of sensing my presence, so I only gave myself a few seconds to take him in before I forced myself to stroll in confidently. “When can I go home?” I asked with no other preamble.

  His head ticked up abruptly, either surprised by my question or surprised to see me in his office. Both were possible.

  I didn’t allow myself to search for any signs of disappointment in his eyes as his gaze met mine. “That’s up to you.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll arrange transportation the minute you ask. I’m not keeping you here.”

  He was so solemn, so matter-of-fact. So emotionless. There wasn’t even a trace of bitterness as he emphasized the word “keeping.” And he hadn’t argued, which was unexpected. And disappointing.

  “So, is it safe for me to leave now?”

  “You’ll have to check with Joe to be certain. He and I have talked quite a bit through e-mail. He said he’d found a suitable place for you to move into last week. A gated community. Last he ment
ioned, he was checking to see when he could get in and test out the security system.”

  “I suppose I don’t have any say in this, do I?” I’d wanted to be stoic like he was but failed. I was too irritated. I just didn’t know if it bothered me more that Reeve had been talking to Joe or that Joe had been talking to Reeve. I’d assumed the latter would leave me out of my own life planning, but not Joe. Yet it was Reeve’s lack of disclosure that hurt me more than Joe’s.

  “Of course you get a say. I figured you and he were in contact. I apologize for assuming.” Reeve hit a few buttons on his keyboard and I tried to remember a time that I’d heard him say he was sorry. Though he’d shown regret in his actions, I couldn’t think of any time he’d actually given an apology. Somehow hearing it now made the distance between us widen, even as he swiveled his laptop toward the side and beckoned me to come around his desk to look at the screen. “This is it.”

  I bent to click through the images, seven different shots of a one-bedroom apartment. It was nice, actually. Similar to the location and style of the place I lived in now. I clicked Escape and was taken to Joe’s e-mail. It was short and concise, and said pretty much exactly what Reeve had just told me. It also listed the rental price, which was reasonable.

  I glanced at the address line of the message. “He copied me at my other e-mail address.” He’d sent it to the account I’d set up strictly for corresponding with him. “I guess I haven’t been checking that one.” I cleared my throat as I straightened. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

  “I didn’t think you were overreacting at all,” he said sincerely.

  The last time I’d spent any time with him, after he’d left me on the ledge both literally and figuratively, he’d barely been able to look at me. Now his eyes sought mine out at every opportunity. I wanted to believe the change meant he missed me. That he couldn’t stand to keep from staring into me for long, the same way that I couldn’t stop from staring into him.

  It made me want to say things I hadn’t come to say. Made me want to apologize for more than overreacting. Made me want to ask him to do the things to me that he’d said he wouldn’t do unless I did.

  All of which was counterproductive. I shook his gaze away. “What about Michelis? What’s going on with him?”

  “Actually, he sent something just this morning.” He closed Joe’s e-mail and clicked on the top line in his inbox. The message opened and Reeve gestured toward the screen for me to read.

  I peeked at it somewhat thrilled he’d chosen to share it with me. Until I realized it had been written in Greek. “I can’t read it. What does it say?”

  “Oh. Right.” He chuckled at himself as he tilted the screen where we could both see it. “Basically, I have not done these things of which you accuse me. I have alibis for all events. One alibi even your own beautiful Emily.”

  Your own beautiful Emily.

  I snuck a peek at him after he said my name, wondering how he felt when he called me his, if it felt anything like how I felt when I heard it.

  He swallowed, suggesting that it at least made him feel something. But that something could have been irritation, because then he launched into a rant about what he’d read so far. “It’s ridiculous. Alibis prove nothing, and he knows that. He never does his own dirty work. Blakely’s toxicology report is going to say overdose, we’re sure of that, but Joe’s been investigating and he’s found one of Michelis’s men spotted on the set’s surveillance camera. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

  “Then they’ll be able to press charges against someone?”

  “Doubtful. There’s not any evidence pointing to foul play. And even if we could prove that it was murder, someone else would take the fall for Michelis. There are people who would be heavily rewarded for that kind of sacrifice.”

  “That’s how it works in those mob TV shows I’ve watched too.” The muscles in my smile felt stiff, like it had been forever since my lips had moved in that direction.

  The smirk he returned felt just as foreign. Had it really been that long since we’d exchanged friendly banter? It would be so easy to fall back into it. I had to remind myself why that was a bad thing.

  Sobering, I asked, “Who discovered Chris? Do you know?”

  “The assistant director on the show. Don’t know her name.”

  “Do you know the time? Was it when I was with Michelis? There was a phone call while I was there. Petros answered and said, ‘It’s done.’ It could have been a call about anything, but I swear it was about Chris. He wanted me to hear it. He dismissed me right after.” Not that it made much difference to find out. It wouldn’t prove anything in a criminal case, but it could at least settle the question in my own mind.

  “That sounds like the manipulative bullshit he’d pull. I’ll have Joe look at the phone records into his hotel room. It’s unlikely to tie him significantly enough to murder, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned against his desk, facing him. “What else does the e-mail say?”

  He narrowed his eyes, picking up where he’d left off before. “Be assured that your possessions are safe from my hand.” He glanced up, his expression apprehensive. “He, uh, means you and Amber.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” I bit my lip. “Does he actually consider Amber to be yours anymore? His messages thus far seem to indicate he thinks she’s his.”

  Reeve shook his head. “I’m not sure it matters. I don’t trust him either way.” He put his finger on the screen at the next line in the e-mail. “Anatolios and Petros can’t work out the issues between us. Please consider face-to-face meeting. It’s time we figure out how to put things to, um, peace between us.” He concentrated for a moment on correcting the translation. “Put things to rest between us.”

  Reeve cleared his throat before adding, “There’s a postscript. Here’s the favor I did. And he includes a link.”

  “Where does the link go?”

  He pushed the screen toward me. “Click on it if you want.”

  I scooted back so that I was sitting on the desk. Then I picked up the computer and set it on my lap. I followed the link to a Greek news site and clicked the Google bar at the top requesting that the page be translated into English. The paragraph was short and didn’t read clearly, but I still got the gist. It was a report on a recent body that had been found dead, causes unknown. The victim had been identified as Broos Lasko – the man who’d killed Reeve’s parents. The man whom Michelis had wanted Reeve to kill in revenge.

  “Oh, Reeve.” My throat felt tight. “I don’t know if I should say congratulations or I’m sorry.”

  “Both are probably appropriate,” he said quietly. Then he blew out a frustrated breath of air. “He’s pretending he did this for me. He did it for himself. He’s hoping it will obligate me to him. It doesn’t.”

  “He did the same thing to Amber. He killed her father and told her it was a present for her. Then held it over her head so that she felt like she couldn’t leave.”

  Reeve cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “Did she tell you that?”

  “Didn’t she tell you that?”

  He shook his head, his expression guarded. “No. She didn’t tell me any of it. I knew, because Petros mentioned it. In his version, Amber begged Michelis to do it for her.”

  I considered the possibility, which mostly meant trying to decide what I might have done in her place. If I’d known a man who had that power, if it were unlikely he’d ever get caught, would I have taken advantage of that connection?

  I didn’t think I could do it. Which was a little surprising considering how attractive the “dangerous man” type had always been to me. Or maybe it wasn’t surprising because it would require me to make a choice with significant consequences, and that was not my strong suit.

  Amber was another story. She’d been able to hit Aaron over the head in Mexico and then leave him for dead, but that had been in order to rescue me. “What do you think is the truth?” I asked, curious what Ree
ve’s opinion was.

  “Your version makes more sense,” he mused. “It’s further proof of how my uncle twists everything to his benefit.”

  I shrugged. “Or it’s proof that Petros can’t be exactly trusted either.”

  “Also possible.”

  There was something intimate about Reeve listening to my ideas and taking them seriously. It made my cheeks flush for absolutely no reason at all.

  I lowered my head to examine the laptop, hoping Reeve didn’t notice. My forehead creased as my eye caught on the sender’s line in the heading of the message. “This isn’t from the same address as the other e-mails.” I’d seen two from the other address – one had included the picture of Michelis and Amber from the casino in Colorado, the other had attached the autopsy report of the woman I’d thought had been Amber.

  “Like you, I’m sure he has more than one. Makes it harder to track him.”

  “True.” Besides the one I had for Joe, I had an e-mail for junk, an e-mail for publicity, an e-mail for personal. But I tended to keep all my correspondence organized. If I e-mailed someone from a certain account, I didn’t later e-mail that person from another account.

  There was another thing that was odd. “Why is this one written in Greek when the others were in English? What’s his language preference with you?”

  “Greek.” He lifted a brow, catching my drift. “Do you think they’ve been sent by different people?”

  “Probably not. The ones before could have been sent by an assistant or something.” That was a comical idea – having some hired goon send your threat letters. But maybe it hadn’t been someone he’d hired at all. What if Petros had sent the previous e-mails? Maybe it hadn’t even been malicious. Petros could have simply wanted Reeve to know what was going on with Amber.

  Whether Reeve was thinking along the same lines I was or not, I couldn’t tell. But he was obviously thinking something. “I’ll have Joe check into that as well.”

  He seemed to disappear into heavy thought. He threw his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, his hands gripped tightly on the armrests at his side.