Table of Contents

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

About the Author

Excerpt from The Sin Factor

Other Books by Sandy Loyd

Shattered Dreams

Sandy Loyd

Shattered Dreams

Copyright © 2016 Sandy Loyd

ISBN: 978-1-941267-22-6

Published by Sandy Loyd

Edited and Formatted by

Pam Berehulke, Bulletproof Editing

Cover design by

Kelli Ann Morgan

Inspire Creative Services

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at sandyloyd@twc.com. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information on the author and her works, please see www.SandyLoyd.com.

This book is also available in print from some online retailers.

Prologue

“It’s so peaceful here.” She sighed and angled her head to eye the lights off Key Largo, the first Florida Key once you left the mainland. Barely visible in the distance, the twinkling added romance to the balmy June air. “I love how the moonlight shimmers off the water.”

The sailboat’s soft pitching, gently tossing back and forth in the light breeze, lulled her into swaying along with both the movement and the soft music drifting from below.

“Isn’t it a gorgeous night?” she asked when his gaze followed hers.

“Gorgeous.” His whispered word tickled the back of her neck. Heat spread as he kissed his way to her ear. His tongue circled the outside before his teeth found her lobe and tugged. “And I’m not talking about the scenery.”

“That tickles.” She giggled, purposefully ignoring the sensations, and took another sip of champagne.

“What? You aren’t laughing at my romantic efforts, are you?”

“Sorry.” Her smile turned rueful.

He was really trying, having gone to much effort for this special evening, which had an unexpected and disturbing effect. The warmth from his breath melted more of her resolve to keep him at a distance. And Lord help her, but she couldn’t stop herself from softening toward him.

His strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him. She rested her head in that perfect crook between shoulder and arm as his full arousal nestled against her bottom.

They stood on the deck, looking out over the moonlit horizon, and swayed a little more when the beat picked up as a new song played. Time stood still while they rocked back and forth in some kind of backward dance. A dance she had no will to stop.

“It is a perfect night,” she said. “And I do appreciate your attempts at romance.”

Somehow, he could always make her forget his faults. Past grievances evaporated, dissipating in the hidden recesses of her mind. She prayed he had changed. But at this moment, she just didn’t care. She set her champagne flute in one of the cup holders before she intertwined her fingers around his neck and brought him closer.

“So you think making love on a sailboat is romantic?” she asked.

“I’ll let you decide,” he whispered.

Once the soft words were out, their lips met. When they broke apart, she could swear she was floating.

“I’ve had too much to drink.” A burst of laughter rose up. “I’m dizzy.”

“That’s because I’m sweeping you off your feet.”

“Maybe. But kiss me again so I can be sure.”

As commanded, his mouth covered hers, definitely making her dizzier.

Chapter 1

Claire Grayson Carter felt the warm sun on her face long before she dared open her eyes. When she finally did squint, brightness invaded and pain shot through her brain. Her eyelids snapped shut.

It took a while before she risked another attempt. This time she used a hand to block out the early morning light and opened her eyes hesitantly while she slowly sat up.

Moaning, she gripped the seat to still the subtle sway of the anchored sailboat. To fend off the offensive rays and to ease her queasy stomach, she bent over with her face in her lap.

“Oh God.” Would the pounding in her head ever stop?

Why did I drink so much? That and the question about where her husband might be were her two most pressing thoughts.

“I should’ve never had that last glass of champagne,” she muttered as another wave of queasiness passed. Please, Lord, Claire prayed, get me through this and I’ll never drink so much again.

With shaky hands, she grabbed hold of the railing until a flush of perspiration passed. Then she pulled herself to her feet, taking deep breaths. Once she felt confident to move again, she raked trembling fingers through her matted hair. Resting her hand on the back of her neck, she scanned the calm seas.

A fish jumped. Its plop distorted the clear water for seconds. Eventually, the ripples fanned out and left the blue-green mirror intact.

Though her nausea had receded, little grenades inside her head hadn’t. One right after the other exploded. She lifted her hand to rub the pain away, and saw red streaks along her arm.

Startled, she glanced down. Dark stains saturated her white silk shirt that hung unbuttoned. When she caught a coppery whiff, the distinct scent of blood, her scalp tingled.

Her heartbeat quickened as she took in the teakwood deck, where a couple of drained champagne bottles and two flutes were strewn about, along with the remnants of a gourmet meal.

She then focused on a red trail that led below. Another cold sensation washed over her despite the heat of the harsh sun. Her lungs seized, and dread rose up instead of air.

“Carl?” She tentatively followed the dark spots that increased in size down the stairs, to the galley and open salon below, where they just stopped in a small dried puddle in front of the stove. “Carl?”

She unlatched the door to the back berth. The bed was undisturbed, and the stowed nylon bags on the teakwood floor were exactly as she’d left them the evening before.

She pivoted and stumbled toward the V-berth as the forty-foot sloop lurched unexpectedly in the water. Gripping the door frame for support, Claire climbed on top of the bed’s rumpled sheets in the center of the tiny room, pushed open the front hatch, and poked her head out.

“Carl?” she yelled at empty space. The quiet stillness of the morning was amplified as her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Hysteria set in as another wave of nausea rolled over her, lapping at her gut like the sea hitting the beach. She dropped the hatch and had to sit a moment on the edge of the bed until the feeling passed.

The jackhammers in her head weren’t helping matters any. Neither was the fact that she felt weak. The desire to exert any effort had completely deserted her. Through sheer willpower, she mustered forth every bit of energy she possessed and continued her search.

At the door of the head, she halted with her hand on the latch. “Stop! Get a grip.” The sharp verbal reprimand worked like a crutch, and gave her the courage to open the door. Yet when she did, her fear expanded at the sight of a bloody hunting knife on the sink in the small bathroom.

She staggered two steps back, far enough to grab the galley stove, and sank onto the settee cushions next to it. Her gaze landed on the table a few feet away. The chart she’d used the day before still lay open where she’d left it.

Breathe. First one breath, and then another. Breathe.

“Okay . . . okay. Think.” Claire peered unseeing out the window at the water beyond. Why couldn’t she remember?

A few tears escaped and trekked down the sides of her face. Her memory was a blank slate after she and Carl had made love last night. Worse, the events leading up to that moment were blurry.

“Did I drink so much that I blacked out?” After whispering the words, she glanced around the open room. Nothing seemed out of place. Except dried blood.

There had to be a plausible explanation. Maybe Carl had a nosebleed and then took the inflatable to shore for a newspaper, and he just hadn’t returned yet. He probably left her a message on her cell phone.

She jumped up from the coral-colored cushions, and avoiding the blood on the teak floor, rushed up the steps to the deck outside. Seconds later, she lurched toward the stern where her cell phone was stashed. Clutching the lifelines to keep from falling, she reached for her phone and brought it to life. No new messages were on the phone, either via text or on voice mail.

When her gaze flew to the stern, hope deflated as rapidly as an inner tube with holes when she spied their dinghy bobbing in the water. Her attention then moved to the port side. Their diving gear was situated in a straight line, exactly where they’d left it the day before.

She glanced out at the crystal-clear water and spent several minutes thoroughly searching the horizon and the area surrounding the boat. The sun beat on her neck. Birds screeched and fish jumped, disturbing the quiet and indicating a morning coming to life. But no Carl.

“Carl,” she yelled.

Nothing! Claire worked to stop a fresh flow of tears and to push past her immobilizing fear as questions consumed her.

She needed help. Someone had to help her find Carl. She wiped away tears with her blood-soaked shirt, ignoring the implications, and slumped down onto the padded bench to call the police.

Spying the dried blood on her arm, she halted with the phone in midair. What would she say? That she’d woken up alone, all covered in blood, and couldn’t remember?

With no other choice, she punched in 911, closed her eyes, and hoped for the best. “I’d like to report a missing person,” she said to the operator.

After giving the woman specifics and being told someone would be there shortly, she ended the call, praying they would hurry. She’d never dealt with the police before. Considering the circumstances, the thought terrified her.

The quiet pervaded, adding to her isolation and her sense of impending doom.

Unable to simply sit still, she swiped the phone screen and hit a preset number.

“Hello?”

“Gwen?” Just hearing her best friend’s voice calmed some of her fears. “Something’s happened. Carl’s not here.”

“What do you mean, he’s not there? Aren’t you on a boat for a romantic weekend?”

“He’s gone. What’s more, there’s blood all over. I can’t remember what happened.”

“Blood? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she hissed, losing some of her hard-won control.

After blubbering for a drawn-out moment, she wiped her face and pulled herself together. She ran a hand through matted hair and felt what could only be dried blood. After a deep shudder, she inhaled and filled her lungs to capacity.

In a calmer voice, Claire relayed what had had happened since she woke, and finished with, “Gwen, I’m scared. There’s a bloody knife in the head. I’ve called 911. But what if they think I did something? Or worse, what if I did? It’s horrible not remembering anything. What do I tell them when they get here?”

Gwen Anderson remained silent. Claire could almost hear her efficient brain churning. The act brought a small turn to the edges of her lips as the stiffness in her shoulders relaxed. Calling Gwen had been the right thing to do.

Those thoughts stayed in place until Gwen’s next words shot through the phone.

“You should call Crystal.”

“No way. I can’t.” How could Gwen even suggest calling her sister? “I haven’t talked to her in months, and I don’t plan on doing it now.”

“You sound desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Not that desperate. Think of another solution.”

Claire gazed out the bow of the boat. Sunlight glistened off the azure water as billowy white clouds floated aimlessly on the horizon. None drifted close enough to the sun to darken the morning.

The day looked to be another glorious one in paradise, except she felt as if she’d dropped into hell. Her head still hurt and she could barely think, but she hadn’t lost all her wits. She was in no condition to deal with Crystal right then.

“Claire, she’s an attorney. She can advise you.”

“She’s a divorce attorney, so I don’t see what solutions she’d have in this situation.” She’d rather have a root canal without drugs than talk to her sister, especially if the conversation involved Carl. For as long as Claire could remember, Crystal Grayson had always made Claire feel inadequate, and Crystal’s mocking I told you so invaded her brain now.

“I’m betting she’d know what to do once the police get there.” Gwen was quiet for a moment. “How about if I call her for you?”

“You’d do that?” The anvil of worry on Claire’s shoulders disintegrated. Thank God. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but she didn’t care.

“I don’t like her either, but I’ll do it. Sit tight. I’ll call you right back.”

“Thanks, Gwen. I owe you.”

While she waited, Claire paced, holding her hands to keep from fidgeting. Every now and then she’d stop to look out over the water, hoping for . . . what? She snorted. It wasn’t as if Carl was going to rise out of the water after a long swim.

Where in the hell is he?

That sick, coppery scent rose up again, and she gagged.

Seconds later, her cell phone blared. Claire picked up on the second ring after noting Gwen’s number on the caller ID.

“What did she say?”

“She’s calling a friend.”

“She’s really helping me?” The incredulity in her voice rang out loud and clear.

“Yes, Claire. Crystal may be a bitch, but she’s still your sister, for God’s sake.”

Delving into the dynamics of her demented relationship with Crystal wouldn’t help matters, so Claire ignored the comment. “Who’s this friend?”

“Says he’s a good criminal lawyer and will know what to do.”

“Can’t say I’m not relieved.”

“So am I. Listen, I can drive down and be there in an hour or so.”

“No.” Claire sighed and focused on a couple of dolphins frolicking off Solitude’s bow. Every morning about this time, they swam past the sailboat. Her gaze fastened on the pair for a moment. As she watched, her breathing and heartbeat slowed, despite the stench and icky feeling of wearing blood.

“I don’t know what good you’d do,” Claire finally said. “But stick around. Let me talk to this lawyer. If I need moral support, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay.”

Claire tried to smile at the bit of humor in the one word, but the slight curl of her lips fell far short of an actual smile as she punched the OFF button and resumed her pacing.

• • •

“Roberts here,” he said in a groggy voice.

“It’s Crystal Grayson.”

Jason Roberts wiped his face and worked to clear his sleep-fogged mind. Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly. He sat up and leaned against the wooden headboard.

“Crystal?”

“Yes, and don’t hang up.”

Since their last conversation over a month ago had ended heatedly, he was taken aback with the call and wanted to hang up, but didn’t because he owed her. And one thing he knew about Crystal Grayson. She always collected her debts.

“Okay. You got my attention. So, why’s the famous go-for-the-jugular divorce attorney calling me this early and at home? We don’t go to court till the end of the month. My bill’s paid, and as I recall, I made myself quite clear during our last discussion.”

“Jason, I can’t believe you’re still pouting.”

The exasperation in her voice made Jason sigh and shake his head. The woman on the other end was the most brazen person he’d ever dealt with. Her ballsy approach reached new highs, even when compared with some true dregs of society he’d encountered as a defense attorney over the years.

“Pouting?” He rolled his eyes. “Nice try. You know damn well why I’m surprised you’re calling.”

“Yes, I got that. Guess I’m particularly adept at surprising you.”

“Understatement if ever I heard one.”

“Who knew you were a lawyer with scruples? You have to admit my offer was an interesting one, and you were tempted. I saw it in your eyes.”

“Let’s not go there.” He snorted. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“It would’ve been worth it,” she purred, and tossed out a throaty laugh. “After all, a night with me in lieu of my fees seemed quite reasonable.”

“They’ve got a name for that. Did you call to bring it up again, or do you have a purpose?”

Another throaty laugh shot through the phone, irritating him. Claws raking over a metal roof would have been an improvement.

“I do have a purpose. I realized too late I insulted you with my offer, but you said if I ever needed your criminal services, you’d reciprocate. I’m calling in the favor.”

“What is it?” Jason sighed and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He didn’t need this shit right now. But he still needed Crystal Grayson. Big time. At least until his divorce was final.

She went above and beyond. Worked her butt off to make sure he shared custody of his two daughters, who were now his life. In an attempt to punish him for having the audacity to require fidelity in his marriage, his soon-to-be ex-wife had threatened to call Seattle home and take his two girls as far away from South Florida as possible. Crystal had effectively stopped not only Elise’s attempt to leave the area, but also her attempt to beggar him as well.

“I’m retaining you for my sister.”

“You have a sister?” He tried to keep the surprise out of his words.

Somehow Jason had never imagined the viperous divorce attorney as a normal person with a family, but he surmised even serial killers had family members somewhere who loved them, so why shouldn’t Crystal?

“She’s my twin. Identical, in fact.”

“There are two of you?” Jason swore under his breath. “God help us.”

“Real funny! But seriously, I got a call from her best friend. She thinks Claire’s in trouble. I don’t know what to think, which is why I called you to check it out.”

“Claire?”

He reached for the knob on the nightstand and pulled, but the antique drawer stuck. He’d have to work on that, he thought, yanking harder and almost knocking over the picture of Chloe and Amelia. As he righted it, his gaze hit the chaos of stacked backer board and bags of mortar scattered near his bathroom. He had a full day planned to tear up some ugly green linoleum. Hopefully, talking to Claire wouldn’t take long.

He grabbed a pen and paper from the now-open drawer and began writing.

“What’s her full name?” he asked. “And give me any pertinent information.”

“Claire Carter.” Crystal rattled off her sister’s phone number. “She and her husband were out on their sailboat last night, celebrating. She woke up this morning and found blood all over the place. He’s missing, and she has no memory of what happened.”

“How convenient.”

“No. The dickhead most likely cut himself shaving for a girlfriend who picked him up after Claire passed out.”

“They sound like a charming couple.”

“It’s not what you think. She’s the good twin, nothing like me.”

He didn’t miss Crystal’s twinge of irritation his comment evoked, but couldn’t stop from adding, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“She’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol,” Crystal went on, ignoring his taunt. “Also, she has a blind spot when it comes to her bastard husband. Knowing Carl like I do, I’m sure he took advantage of both. Look, personal issues aside, I’m worried. My gut instinct tells me something’s not right. If my sister needs a criminal attorney, I want the best. You said it yourself many times, everyone’s entitled to the best defense possible.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic, he thought, as she relayed more details. Cliché or not, he believed in truth, justice, and the American way, and valued integrity above all else. But having a good lawyer sometimes made all the difference in navigating the justice system.

“Gwen says Claire’s disoriented and doesn’t know what to do. Do you think you can help her?”

“The authorities need to be notified.”

“She’s already called 911.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to her. But that’s all I can do unless she’s charged with a crime. They may suspect foul play, especially with the blood. Might get ugly.”

“Which is why I was hoping you could drive down and scope things out.” She hesitated a heartbeat. “You’re a sailor, right? I’d go myself but I hate boats, and I’m the last person my sister will listen to when it comes to Carl.”

“You want me to drive to Key Largo?” He was unable to keep the shock out of the question, and his voice rose ten decibels. “From Boca Raton? Are you nuts? That’s a four-hour round trip.” What was the woman thinking?

“I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m really worried,” came her anxious reply. “Carl’s done something; I just know it. Claire needs an objective viewpoint. I’m betting there’s no foul play, at least none involving my sister. She’s too nice, too soft. Too goody-two-shoes.”

Yeah, he mentally snorted. He’d heard it all before. Too many times. It was unlikely this Claire Carter was so lily white. Not after taking into account what he knew about Crystal. He’d bet a week’s pay the two sisters were alike, leaves on the same tree. They were probably very similar in nature, especially when they shared the same genes and probably had the same upbringing.

Jason remained quiet as a gnawing feeling grew in his gut. He shouldn’t get involved in any mess connected with the conniving woman. But he did owe Crystal, and his ex had the girls this week. Eyeing his master bath, he decided he could forgo a day of labor.

“I’ll do it,” he blew out on a resigned sigh. “Then consider my debt paid.”

Jason said his good-byes and punched in Claire Carter’s number, wondering if she’d stabbed her husband in a drunken rampage and woke with convenient amnesia. After listening to Crystal’s description of all the blood, not to mention that the guy sounded like a jerk, he had his doubts about the twin’s innocence. He’d defended numerous clients who’d done plenty worse for less motivation.

“Why me, Lord?” he murmured to himself as a voice interrupted his thoughts. “Mrs. Carter? My name is Jason Roberts. Crystal said you might need my help.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t know what to do.”

Her genuine dismay set him back a bit. Jason hadn’t expected the utter anguish in her voice. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, the soft sound elicited some kind of recognition.

Yeah, right. Recognition of guilt.

“Calm down,” he said in a soothing voice as he shook off the cynical thoughts. “I’m here to help. Crystal gave me a rundown, but I’d like to hear your version of what happened last night.”

“That’s the problem. I woke up covered in blood, and I don’t remember much.”

“Okay, then we’ll start with what you do remember.”

Jason took notes as he listened, stopping her from time to time to ask clarifying questions. Once he had all the specifics, they agreed she’d pick him up at the marina.

While writing down her directions, he said, “I’m driving from Boca, so it’ll take me a couple of hours.”

She murmured her thanks, and he added, “Outside of briefly explaining to the authorities what happened, don’t answer any questions without me being present. Understand?”

A good offense was a criminal attorney’s first rule of thumb for providing a good defense, if needed. Until he scoped out the situation as promised, she was vulnerable to law enforcement and their intimidation tactics.

“Yes. I understand.”

“I’ll call you when I get close to the marina.”

After he hung up, he rose from the four-poster bed and wove his way around stacks of backer board and boxes of tiles for his ongoing house renovation while slipping out of his boxers. He yanked off his T-shirt and rifled through the bureau for fresh underwear, and grabbed Dockers and a sports shirt from the spacious walk-in closet that used to be a small bedroom.

Contemplating Claire Carter’s story, he headed for the bathroom and turned on the shower before he stepped under the hot water. As warmth seeped into his bones, his mind spun.

What was it about her eerie voice that drew him? He discarded the thought, refusing to believe something so ludicrous. The circumstances surrounding the woman’s situation intrigued him, not the other, and were definitely worth a trip. If anything, he figured he wouldn’t be bored.

Hell, Jason thought while soaping up, he could handle the win-win scenario. He’d clear his debt with the annoying divorce attorney and be entertained in the process.

Chapter 2

Claire frowned as Deputy Snyder of the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office and his entourage of latex-glove-wearing men departed by boat, leaving abject silence in their wake. Obviously, they thought she’d done something to Carl.

For over two hours, the officers had treated her as if she were public enemy number one as they swarmed the boat to take pictures, fingerprints, and samples. After bagging her blouse and champagne flutes, they had scrutinized the clear waters within viewing distance of the sloop—in search of a body, she assumed. Other Coast Guard boats were still out searching but with no luck so far.

Claire was sure if they could have arrested her, they would have. Of course, being lawyered-up, as Snyder had called it, didn’t sit well with any of Monroe County’s finest, but it seemed to get them off her back for the moment. They’d agreed to meet at the sheriff’s office once Crystal’s lawyer friend made it to Key Largo from Boca Raton.

Sweat trickled off Claire’s brow as she sat under the Bimini top’s shade, thankful her sister had sent someone, but wishing the guy would hurry. Relief overwhelmed her when her cell phone chimed. She lunged for it.

“Mrs. Carter?”

She smiled wanly at the caller’s formality, recognizing the lawyer’s voice. “Please call me Claire.”

“Okay, Claire,” he said. “I’m a few miles from the marina. Can you meet me?”

“Of course. I appreciate your coming so quickly. The authorities just left. But they aren’t doing enough to find him.” No, they were too busy trying to prove she was guilty of killing him.

“Investigations take time.”

“I see.” Although she didn’t see, she tried to shrug it off but couldn’t. “What if someone kidnapped him?”

“Is there evidence of a struggle?”

Her glance swept the deck. “No.” There was no sign of anything unusual but dried blood. The sinking anxiety in the pit of her stomach dug in deeper.

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with the authorities, if need be.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I’m ten minutes away from the marina, give or take a few. I’ll see you then.” She disconnected the call and pocketed the phone while heading for the inflatable tied on at the stern.

It took two yanks on the rip cord to start the outboard motor. Claire put it into gear and steered toward the marina. In a matter of seconds, the inflatable skimmed across the water at ten to fifteen knots.

Nearing the wooden structure, Claire spied a raven-haired man who could only be the attorney, Jason Roberts. He sat on the dock with his attention on the water. When he noticed her approach, he jumped up, appearing much taller and more imposing than a moment ago.

He waited till she got close enough, and caught the line she threw. She ignored his silent appraisal.

“You look just like Crystal,” he said seconds later, after running the line around the cleat. He pulled the small inflatable even with the dock, and handed the line back to her to hold the small craft steady.

“I’m not sure whether to be offended or thrilled by your remark, Mr. Roberts.” She regarded him warily, thankful for the bit of protection her sunglasses provided.

“Jason.” He offered her a ready smile. At her questioning glance, he said, “Since you asked me to call you Claire, it’s only fair you call me Jason.” She nodded, and he added, “And as for my remark . . .” He shrugged. “Just an observation. I don’t know why it surprised me. She mentioned something about you two being twins.”

“Yes. Identical,” Claire said softly, peering into his sunglass-covered gaze and holding it unflinchingly. “Imagine that.”

Her biggest worry was finding Carl. Why should it matter what an obvious close friend of her sister’s thought, and why did she find it disturbing? After all, she and Crystal were mirror images. She’d dealt with reactions like his for as long as she could remember.

Claire took Jason’s outstretched hand, one that deceptively appeared to be a greeting because he didn’t release hers. Instead, he used the hold to steady himself and climbed on board.

She ignored the hemmed-in sensation his presence elicited, revved the motor, and jammed it into gear while pulling the line off the dock and tossing it aside. In minutes, she maneuvered the small craft toward the open sea.

When she caught sight of the sailboat, Claire heaved a relieved sigh. His silent scrutiny was more unsettling, unnerving in an uncomfortable way. Though Carl could make her feel sexy with just a look, this man’s gaze seemed to go deeper and see more.

When they neared the boat, she cut the motor and grabbed the stern. The instant he stepped aboard, she could finally inhale naturally.

He reached for the lines. Claire noticed how he secured them in that precise way, completely at ease around boats. So different from Carl, who hated sailing and balked at doing even the simplest tasks properly.

Once the lines were tied, she stood, and her gaze fell on his outstretched hand. Reluctantly, she took hold and focused on climbing onto the boat, forcing herself to breathe despite the contact. The moment he released her hand, she turned away, hoping he couldn’t tell how his touch affected her. She needn’t have worried.

His interest was absorbed elsewhere. He took his sunglasses off and stuck them in his pocket. An intense indigo gaze swept the deck before he headed below.

She followed. “I got the impression the police think I’m somehow responsible.” In the darker space, she took off her unneeded sunglasses. “They left without saying much.”

“That’s not unusual.” He smiled. “They’re naturally suspicious, especially of spouses.”

She observed his careful examination of the cabin. “What do you think?”

“There’s a definite heavy trail and pooling, but no splattering. No footprints.” A moment later, his steadfast gaze landed on her, seeking verification. “And you said you had blood matted in your hair and on your clothes?”

She nodded.

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” When he didn’t answer, simply crouched and studied the floor more closely, her curiosity grew. “Well?” she finally asked, unable to hold the question inside.

“The blood spots are awfully consistent, and then they just stop. Too much blood to be a nosebleed. They almost appear to be planted.”

“Planted?” Her eyes narrowed. She’d overheard the officers mention the same thing.

He glanced back at her. “When someone’s bleeding from a serious wound, they tend to panic. Blood splatters everywhere, and the pattern is haphazard. It doesn’t just end, and it’s usually smeared. I’ve seen enough crime-scene photos. Of course, maybe he didn’t panic and staunched the flow with a towel using pressure.” His brows lifted a curious inch. “Find any blood-saturated towels lying around?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t stab him.”

Why had she blurted that? her desperation made her wonder. Who was she trying to convince more, the attorney or herself?

“I never said you did,” he replied offhandedly, his interest returning to the teak flooring.

“But you were thinking it, weren’t you?” And why she asked that stupid question, she had no clue, but somehow a lot rode on his answer.

Jason stopped his perusal and caught her gaze. His intelligent blue eyes were unreadable, but she could tell by their intensity that his mind was spinning.

“I won’t lie and say I don’t have doubts.” He snorted and shook his head. “I mean, you’re Crystal’s twin.”

She smiled. “How well do you know Crystal?”

“Well enough,” he said with a grunt. “But now, I’m not so sure about anything.” His attention roamed the full length of the salon. “Tell me about your marriage.” There was no mistaking the gentle command.

“My marriage?” She groaned, wishing her head would stop pounding. Of course he’d ask. “Do I have to tell you?”

He nodded. “If I’m representing you, I need to know everything, no matter how trivial. My job’s defending, not judging.”

“It’s a usual marriage with the usual problems,” she said evasively, not wanting to get too personal with a lawyer Crystal had sent, especially when it involved Carl. No way she could trust him completely. “Besides, I don’t need defending as much as I need someone to take Carl’s disappearance seriously.”

“What kind of problems?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, easing the steady pain. “Our divorce would have been final a few months ago.” Her sister knew, so she felt safe enough revealing that much. “But before I signed the final papers, he begged me for another chance, even agreed to counseling.” She’d owed Carl that much if he was willing. “Of course, Crystal had called me a fool for thinking that way.”

“Would your husband have any reason to skip?”

“Skip?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would he skip?” she asked through clenched teeth. Her hand curled into a fist until her nails dug in to the point of pain. “He begged for another chance. We were working through our problems. Things were great between us.” Or at least, she thought they were. She inhaled deeply and released her fingers, forcing herself to relax. “In fact, this weekend was a celebration.” She’d desperately hoped to prove Crystal wrong about Carl.

Without commenting, he started for the deck.

“Did you hear me?” she yelled at his back, following him up the narrow stairs. “He didn’t skip.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little odd you can’t remember anything? In my opinion, given your account, you didn’t drink enough to warrant memory loss.”

His reply only raised more questions she’d rather not answer, much less think about.

“That’s because I’ve always been a lightweight with alcohol, and not used to drinking.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t quite jibe with your story. I’m looking for another scenario.”

“No.” The sharp word cracked through the air like a snapped whip. Claire’s mouth hardened into a thin line, and she shook her head. “There is no other scenario.”

She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t believe it. That would mean her husband had lied again, and she couldn’t accept that, not after the complete turnaround he’d made in the last two months.

“You’re so sure?”

“Carl and I may have our problems, but no way he’s responsible for this.”

“If you didn’t stab him, where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she ground out one syllable at a time. “That’s for the police to figure out. Of course, while we sit here waiting for them to stop suspecting me and get around to actually investigating, he could be dying.”

“How? Did he stab himself? And if he did, where could he go?” Jason held out his hand in a sweeping motion toward the sea. “We’re surrounded by water, a few miles from shore.”

“Maybe someone kidnapped him.” The excuse sounded lame as it left her lips, but she was too annoyed to think clearly.

“I don’t buy it, and the police don’t either. The fact that they didn’t take you in for questioning speaks volumes. This all looks contrived. There’s no sign of a struggle or of an intruder.”

A gnawing pain sprouted and grew from the seeds of doubt that his words and the deputy’s earlier comments had planted. Carl and his past transgressions, along with Crystal’s mocking, flashed inside her brain. In those few seconds, pain blossomed into heartache. He couldn’t do this. Not after yesterday. The day had been too perfect, had made her think things could work out, that she hadn’t been so totally wrong in her choice of a husband after all.

“Something’s happened to him,” she whispered fervently, unwilling to believe anything different. If Carl did this, it would make her the biggest fool on the planet to believe in his lies one more time. “I just know it.”

All of a sudden, it was too much. Tears she thought had been cried out sprang free, running down the sides of her face. She hurriedly brushed them away before he saw them.

God help her, she couldn’t fall apart in front of the attorney whose sharp cobalt eyes appeared to miss nothing. Her mistake in trusting Carl again was private, certainly not information she wanted carried back to her twin. Crystal would have a really good laugh. Claire could already hear her I told you so.

Jason plowed a hand through his hair in what could only be a frustrated gesture and stared at the bow. His gaze stayed there for several minutes while Claire composed herself.

Eventually, his heavy sigh drew her focus.

“Look. I’ll go on your premise for now.” His skeptical expression told her he didn’t believe Carl lay injured or dying somewhere.

“Thank you.” I can deal with his skepticism, she thought as she listened to him talk.

“I know a private investigator I use regularly. He’s a computer whiz, a genius at sniffing out details. Expensive and a little unconventional, but he’s thorough. If something serious has happened, he’ll uncover it. If you want, I’ll hire him for you.”

“I’d like that. Expense isn’t an issue.” If the police wouldn’t take Carl’s disappearance seriously, a private investigator would give her some peace of mind. She’d also have a little time to figure out what to do in the event Jason’s theory held merit. But she couldn’t think about that now. If she did, she’d rip completely apart at the seams.

“He helped me with some work on my house yesterday, and mentioned not having much planned for today. Hopefully he’s free, so he can start digging right away.”

“Thank you.” Claire flashed a semblance of a smile.

Nodding, Jason pulled out a cell phone and headed for the bow out of her earshot.

• • •

Once Jason punched in Jim O’Malley’s preset number, he reached for his sunglasses and put them on.

“O’Malley here.”

“Jimbo? It’s me, Jason. I’ve got a job for you. Missing person off a sailboat near Key Largo. Wife woke up alone with blood all over. You interested?”

“Don’t know,” Jimbo drawled. “Was looking forward to some time off. Haven’t had any in weeks.” He broke off and chuckled. “Hell, I could be persuaded if she’s pretty.”

Jason smiled. But when he turned back to Claire, noticing how fragile and tormented she appeared, the smile died. The sight of her—with her contemplative gaze on the horizon in the exact spot he’d left her—moved him, and he spoke without thinking.

“She’s Crystal Grayson’s twin.”

Pivoting, he wondered why he’d chosen those words to describe Claire, to give the PI a distinct impression. At one time in the not-so-distant past, Jim O’Malley had been gaga over Crystal. And she’d not only stepped on his heart, she’d crushed it in the process.

“Weird,” Jason whispered, realizing he’d done it purposefully to place some kind of mental buffer between the woman and his friend.

“Didn’t know Crystal had a twin.”

And what bothered him even more as Jimbo’s reply registered, Jason wasn’t sure if his motivation had been out of some strange chivalrous instinct. After all, Jimbo had stepped on his fair share of hearts over the years. Or had it been for some less altruistic reason? Like jealousy?

He couldn’t deny Crystal had attracted him the minute he met her. His marriage had ended long before he sought her services to make it official. But she’d been dating his friend at the time. Then later, her treatment of Jimbo had provided the emotional brake he’d needed to keep from having his own head-on collision. And now he felt the same attraction for her twin.

Jason snorted, shook his head, and pushed the unwanted thoughts aside.

“Identical, if you get my drift,” he said, refocusing on what he needed from the PI. “I don’t know what to make of it. Claire Carter—that’s her name—thinks something’s happened to her husband, Carl. I’m not convinced and neither is the deputy assigned to the case, so I want you to do a little digging. It’s right up your alley, rats and garbage included. I’m betting the guy left an electronic trail an individual with your talents could easily follow, judging by the evidence of ineptness.”

“Hmm. Sounds interesting.” Jimbo broke off for a moment. “I’ll do it, but it’ll cost you. Give me a social and a few other facts. You know, the usual. Then I’ll get to work.”

“Call you back in five with that.”

After hanging up, Jason turned to Claire, who still stared unseeingly at the water. The haunted expression hadn’t left her face, nor had she seemed to move a muscle, except somehow her shoulders appeared even more hunched.

He observed her for several minutes. She didn’t possess Crystal’s brashness, but maybe she had some cunning that surpassed her sister’s. At that thought, he pulled a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he wasn’t such a cynical bastard.

He valued honesty, but he’d learned the hard way that most people lie, especially his clients. At this point in his jaded life, he tended to believe the worst in people, mainly because he saw people at their worst, an occupational hazard.

And hell, he had to admit eleven years with his own ex-wife had taken their toll. No one could live with Elise Roberts for any amount of time and not come out of the experience feeling a little singed.

He sighed and headed toward Claire. “I need some personal information on your husband, and my guy will get busy.”

She startled and turned her gaze on him. “Of course,” she said softly. “I’ll be right back.”

In moments, she came racing up the steps with an index card and held it out. “This has a few pertinent facts. If you need anything else, I can call my assistant.”

He glanced at the card, impressed at the wealth of information it held. “I wish more people were as organized as you.”

“I keep it in my emergency kit.” She offered a rueful smile. “I tend to be anal about details.”

“Good,” Jason murmured as he took out his cell phone. “I’ll just make this call, and we can talk about where we go from here.” He started for the bow to call Jimbo.

Moments later, he stuck the phone in his pocket and headed back for her. “Well, that’s done.”

“So, now what?” she asked, her head held high.

“Now we let Jimbo work his magic. In the meantime, we’ll sail back to the marina and meet with this Deputy Snyder.”

“Does that mean you think maybe something’s happened to Carl?”

“Something like that.” The hope in her voice stopped him from being brutally honest with what he really thought. “Jimbo will figure it out. He just needs a little time.”

“Thank you.”

The heartfelt tone in the two words stirred an uncomfortable sense of familiarity. He ignored the signal and fiddled with the anchor line while Claire moved to the helm and started the diesel engine.

“Let me go forward a bit. There’s a winch to help pull when it’s free,” she said.

The boat shifted, allowing slack in the line. Jason leaned over and easily tugged the anchor free before cranking the winch. Once the anchor was secured, he hoisted the mainsail, watching the canvas fill with air before progressing to the bow. He worked the jib, unfurling it after attaching the sheets.

Claire turned off the motor. All he could hear was the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the sailboat as it lurched and began picking up speed, propelled by the power of the wind. The steady breeze and fairly flat seas made it a perfect day for sailing. In Jason’s mind, there was nothing better than being out on the water under full sail on a perfect day.

She was a natural, he noted, glancing at her and taking pleasure in the view. He couldn’t get over how much she resembled Crystal. Like her twin, Claire was stunning with show-stopping beauty that prompted men to pause and take notice. The two sisters together could cause accidents.

Totally fascinated, he watched while she scanned the horizon with beautifully shaped jade eyes, her best feature on that heart-shaped face with its faultless, creamy complexion. Her hair whipped about in the wind, thick and wavy with a rich auburn color. And he’d have to be dead not to notice the curvaceous and generously endowed figure standing at the helm.

When the boat heeled over, slicing through the water at a good clip, her sad smile crept into place and his curiosity soared.

“I see you’re a seasoned sailor,” he said as he plopped down across from her.

“I’ve loved to sail from the first moment my dad took my sister and me out.” She placed a hand in front of her eyes, blocking the sun. “We were both five. Crystal’s not into it . . . tends to get seasick.”

“What about your husband?”

Claire’s gaze wandered to a pelican flying overhead. Her smile faded.

“Does he enjoy sailing?” he asked.

She reached for her sunglasses but hesitated to put them on. Jason couldn’t help noticing her unsteady hands as she slid them into place. She was definitely uncomfortable.

“This is my boat, not Carl’s. He hates to sail.” He didn’t miss the irritation she projected in her voice. “He’s into power and speed, even on the water. He was only along on our sailing trip to please me. Like I said, we were in the process of working out some problems.”

When Jason remained silent, simply watching her, she looked away again. She closed her eyes and took a breath, but it did nothing to stop the bit of red stealing up her face.

“Is this part of your tactics?” she snapped, eyes blazing anger. “Pumping me for information on my marriage to see if I stabbed my husband?”

“Part of the job. You seem evasive.” He shrugged. “As if you have something to hide. And when I feel someone’s hiding something, I ask questions.”

She snorted but didn’t reply.

“I’m only looking for motivation into why your husband might disappear.”

“Motivation . . . such an interesting word,” she said softly. “Carl couldn’t have done this. That location?” She nodded in the direction they’d come. “It’s one of my favorite spots, has been for years. It’s why I keep Solitude in Key Largo and make the long drive south on weekends. I like my solitude. I anchor there a lot, usually by myself. Yesterday was the second time Carl’s been on the boat. He had no idea where we were anchoring.” She studied the horizon intently. “Of course, those little details don’t bode well for me now, do they?”

“No. I’d say we’ve got a real mystery on our hands. And too many questions. Starting with where is he, and ending with why you don’t remember what happened. And we can’t forget the blood and the knife.”

She sighed. “God! Maybe I did do something.”

“Do you have a violent temper? Or any history of violence in your past?”

“No.”

“There you go. Past behavior is a good indication of future behavior. Let’s talk about Carl.”

“Can we do this later? I have a horrendous headache. I really don’t want to go into Carl and his past behaviors right now, if you don’t mind.”

Wondering about her tormented tone, Jason focused on her until she looked up. Once she did, he held the connection to try to figure her out, as if peering into her eyes could tell him what she wouldn’t. Then he broke eye contact and turned his head toward the water.

• • •

Without his penetrating stare, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. For the hundredth time, she asked herself—where in the hell was her husband, and what in the hell happened last night?

“Let’s wait and see what the investigation turns up, shall we?” Jason finally said in a voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded and her attention returned to guiding the sloop as she struggled to ignore the attorney’s presence. Every so often she’d feel his eyes on her, and the hairs on the back of her neck would stand on end in response. For most of the short sail, she was totally aware of him.

She could tell by Jason’s mannerisms that he’d done his fair amount of sailing and loved the water. So different from Carl. The attorney performed the duties of first mate in the efficient manner he’d demonstrated earlier, completely at ease on the boat. This disturbed her.

She didn’t like sharing her love of sailing with the confident, insightful man who read her too well. Carl always made her feel sexy with a glance, but somehow the feeling seemed shallow when she compared it to the connection she felt right now with Jason Roberts, who was in essence a stranger.

It made her realize her marriage lacked true depth. Had it ever been deep? If she were honest, she’d have to respond no with a capital N. How sad. After almost three years, there wasn’t much she shared with Carl other than great sex.

When the time came to drop the sails, Claire couldn’t miss Jason’s relaxed air as he deftly handled the white masses of stiff fabric, folding and then storing them properly without the slightest bit of direction.

She watched him walk toward the helm, his expression revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. The confidence he exuded gave her a sense of calm because she felt he’d help figure out this mystery. If only she could read him better.

They headed into the harbor under full engine, and Jason expertly guided the boat into the slip she’d indicated.

How had he gone from first mate to captain so effortlessly? His actions caught her by surprise, making her uneasy, especially when she never surrendered control of her boat to anyone, much less a stranger.

“You do that often?” she asked, voicing her thoughts.

“Do what?” Jason switched off the motor and handed her the key before jumping off the boat onto the cement walkway.

“Just take over.”

“Sorry. Habit, I guess,” he said, offering a quick grin while tying off the lines to the moorings. Once done, he hopped back on board.

Claire ignored the smile, and they spent the next few minutes in silence securing the boat. Once they were ready to leave, Jason went ahead. On the dock, he pivoted and extended an outstretched hand. Their gazes met, and she had this overwhelming urge to turn and run—well away from him and his all-knowing, all-seeing eyes. She stifled the urge, grabbed his offered hand, and stepped off the boat.

“You can ride with me to the sheriff’s office,” he said as they headed in the direction of the marina’s parking lot.

“That’s okay. I’ll follow you. My car’s right over there.” She nodded as she glanced at her Lexus four-by-four, and then swallowed hard when she spied Carl’s car parked in the next spot.

She increased her speed and was almost jogging by the time she neared the cherry-red Corvette. As she inspected it closely, a feeling of dread nestled in the pit of her stomach. The empty car appeared exactly as it had when Carl climbed out two days ago, which emphasized the fact that something terrible had happened. Nothing short of death would keep him from his prized Corvette.

“Come on. You’re in no condition to drive,” Jason murmured. He grabbed her arm and started in the opposite direction.

Warmth spread where his hand touched. She stiffened and would have jerked free, but he held her arm with a vice-like grip.

“Will you stop doing that?” she snapped. It felt as if he was taking over, crowding her.

He ignored her protests, not slowing until he stood beside a silver Mercedes. When he hit the keyless entry, the lights flashed. He opened the passenger door and guided her inside.

After a short drive, he pulled into the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office parking lot.

“You don’t take his disappearance seriously, do you?” Claire said once he turned off the engine.

He contemplated her question for a long moment before he sighed. “I’m on your side, Claire. I don’t know what happened to Carl, but you’re my client.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” She winced at the harsh sound of her voice, disliking rudeness. But she couldn’t help slapping a barrier between them.

“It means even if Carl’s out there, hurt or worse, I’m on your side.”

“But you don’t believe anything’s really happened to him, do you?”

“I already told you, I don’t know what to believe.”

“I still don’t get why. I haven’t paid you a dime.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes.” She gazed into eyes that gave her no clue as to what he was thinking, barely discernable behind the sunglasses he wore. Suddenly, it did matter.

“Your sister wanted me to help you, and I owe her.”

“Ah! Now I understand.” Crystal was good at making guys owe her.

“No, you don’t. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

He shoved out of the car and came around to the passenger door to assist her before she had a chance to emerge on her own without his help. She had no choice but to walk into the building beside him.

Deputy Tom Snyder stood waiting at the door of a sparsely furnished room. The sign on the door read INTERVIEW ROOM, but it was a transparent euphemism. The room was clearly meant for intimidation and interrogation.

His gaze watched her like a mountain cat after its supper. Noticing the dull green color on the wall and the poor lighting in the windowless area, Claire prayed this wouldn’t take long. But more, she prayed she wouldn’t be arrested for a murder she couldn’t remember, or defend herself against.

“Mrs. Carter?”

Claire swallowed.

“Have a seat. I have some questions for you.”

Chapter 3

A few minutes before the alarm sounded, Claire turned it off and rolled over. She’d spent another sleepless night of lying in the dark with too many questions running through her head.

Existing on some kind of mental autopilot, Claire had somehow plowed through the last couple of days. She’d tried to immerse herself in the new catalog her company would be mailing out in a week, but her concentration was shot. She couldn’t work, couldn’t eat, couldn’t stay focused on anything but Carl and his disappearance.

She’d called the sheriff’s office and Coast Guard so many times, she felt sure the operators recognized her voice. By her last call, when they’d informed her about an empty blood bag their dogs had discovered, compassion had replaced suspicion in their tone.

Everything was too quiet. The oppressive silence wouldn’t let her relax, and reminded her further that Carl was still missing. Now that her daze wore off, a dull pain filled her heart as clarity reigned. Her husband had disappeared by choice.

She threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. Mondays were always a zoo. She could obsess at work and stay busy at the same time.

The shower felt refreshing as she stepped under the warm spray. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to it, wishing for a fresh start for her life, as well as her body.

What a fool she’d been to give him another chance to hurt her. Tears she’d held back through the weekend streaked down the sides of her face. Hot water washed them away as her hurt and embarrassment receded, and her resolve strengthened.

She was done with Carl Carter.

• • •

Within an hour, Claire charged off the elevator in the direction of her office and encountered Amy Denton’s sympathetic greeting along the way. Stiffening, she smiled and flashed her assistant a return hello.

“Hold my calls,” she said before escaping into her office and shutting the door. Pity was the last thing she wanted from anyone, especially Amy.

A knock sometime later interrupted her musings, and she looked up as Gwen poked her head in. Her best friend oversaw the creative department at Claire’s Collections and was in charge of putting together the fashion catalog, a prestigious line of women’s apparel and accessories. Her steadying presence had been a godsend these past few days.

“Amy’s on break, so I made myself at home and brought you coffee. You okay?” Thankfully concern, not pity, seeped out in the question. Gwen handed her a cup and perched in one of two upholstered chairs placed in front of the oversized oak desk. “Any news?”

Claire filled her in about the empty blood bag found in a cove a mile away. When done, she took a sip of coffee. The heat of the brew warmed her cold hands. As she swallowed, the hot liquid warmed her cold insides as well.

“I just wish that night wasn’t so foggy in my mind. God, Gwen. Why can’t I remember?”

“Quit worrying.” Gwen reached for her hand and squeezed. “They’ll find him.”

“You think so?” she asked as she sat back in her chair and caught Gwen’s gaze. “Then why haven’t they? Maybe I did kill him in a fit of rage, got rid of his body, and tossed out the blood bag as a diversion.”

“That’s not funny.”

The horror in Gwen’s voice had Claire’s lips turning up at the edges. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. It’s how I feel. Not remembering is horrible.”

“So stop believing the worst. You two have had your fights, but you’d never hurt a fly.”

“Jason Roberts—he’s the attorney Crystal sent—thinks Carl disappeared on purpose. The Coast Guard and the police stopped looking after finding the bag, so it appears he did.”

“Carl?” Gwen snorted and shook her head. “That would take too much effort on his part.”

Claire nodded and had to agree. Her husband was a tad lazy, she’d discovered much too late. They were full partners in the company due to his infusion of much-needed cash for expansion right before they married three years ago.

Little did she realize, the money was the last of a sizeable trust fund he’d drained. For his generosity, he’d expected a return on his investment to tide him over until he inherited his parents’ estate, another tidbit she’d discovered too late after marrying him.

Claire’s Collections was her success story. She, not Carl, had worked her butt off to grow the small mail-order company into a full-blown catalog business. Yet, he had no qualms reaping the financial rewards from her efforts. He was perfectly happy to let her run things with an iron fist as long as he continued reaping those rewards. Mommy and Daddy were healthy, and it appeared he wouldn’t inherit anything else for quite a long time.

During their whirlwind romance, he’d duped her into thinking he was husband material. In reality he was nothing but a pretty, cheating ornament. Only Gwen and Amy knew that his title, VP of Sales, was a sham.

Claire handled sales, not Carl. His presence was always erratic, and she was too embarrassed to enlighten anyone inside the company.

“You both decided to work on your marriage. Wasn’t it Carl’s idea to work on reforming?” Gwen asked, interrupting her thoughts. “If he wanted out, why not take you up on your generous offer to buy his share?”

Claire forced a smile and took another sip of coffee as images of their last horrible fight flashed in her mind. She should have stuck to her resolve and gone ahead with the divorce. Her biggest objective in giving him another chance had been to save her company, thanks to their agreement—one Crystal had prepared when Carl originally invested the money. In the event of divorce or disagreement, Claire’s Collections, her baby, would be sold and the proceeds divided. Unfortunately, she was fast realizing that no company was worth the emotional pain ravaging her soul.

“Obviously,” Claire said wryly, “he didn’t want the gravy train to end.”

Carl had played her like a concert pianist. Looking in hindsight at that last night, along with their entire relationship, she cringed inwardly, having only herself to blame for accepting this last string of lies.

Having been so in love when she’d signed their agreement, she’d never imagined the document could impact her life so negatively now. She almost hoped he was dead. It would save her from dealing with the mess of divorcing him.

“It’ll work out,” Gwen said. “You’ll see.”

Discarding the mean thought, Claire nodded. No sense stooping to his level. “Yes. But let’s talk about something else.”

Her nod indicated the storyboard along the side wall. “Tell me what you have planned for the next issue,” she said, shoving all thoughts about Carl and her stupidity to the far reaches of her mind.

Chapter 4

Jason hung up the phone, disconnecting from Key Largo’s finest. Deputy Snyder’s interesting news reinforced his belief that Carl had pulled off a planned and orchestrated scenario that would implicate Claire in his murder. The guy was good, but not that good. They’d catch him, and when they did, Jason couldn’t wait to see his face.

Snyder also had a few more questions for Claire and asked to set up another meeting. Before agreeing, Jason quickly called Jim O’Malley and arranged a date for an early lunch at his favorite seafood place along the water.

“Want to sit outside?” Jason asked Jimbo, who was at the bar when he arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes later.

“Sure. The scenery’s a little nicer out there.”

Oh, that scenery. Jason smiled, noticing two beautiful women sitting three tables away as they were seated.

He picked up the menu and said while perusing it, “I talked to Snyder, the sheriff’s deputy in Key Largo. He had a lot to report.” He broke off to order, and waited for the waitress to take Jimbo’s.

When she was out of earshot, he continued. “Fingerprint tests confirm those found on the knife are Claire’s left thumb and forefinger. The flutes had two sets of prints—hers and another set he assumes are Carl’s.”

Leaning forward, he said, “Here’s where it gets interesting. Trace evidence on the champagne residue in one of the flutes shows scopolamine laced with morphine. Drug leads to a general state of delirium. Also causes amnesia. If Claire got a dose of this, it’s no wonder she can’t remember anything. The side effects—memory loss, nausea, lack of muscle strength—are all similar to blacking out after a wild night of drinking.”

“So she was drugged?”

“Snyder thinks so.” Jason glanced up. The waitress had returned with drinks. He remained silent until she served them and left. “It matches her symptoms and fits with her story. Also, there are two sets of prints on the blood bag found. One matches the prints on the glass—his. Forensic tests will take a bit longer. Deputy said he’d have more in a day or two.” When Jimbo nodded without speaking, Jason prodded, “What did you find out?”

He had no doubts the PI had yielded results. His connections and talent with the computer were his strongest assets. Jason never questioned how he uncovered information no one else could. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, but he appreciated the investigator’s ability nonetheless.

“I let my fingers do the walking, and these little guys,” Jimbo drawled, indicating two fingers, “climbed over all kinds of shit. Interesting part is, nothing leads to the husband. Everything’s listed under the company umbrella—credit cards, cell phone, all of it—so it made digging harder.” He stopped talking and his gaze strayed toward the gorgeous women.

After waiting a full thirty seconds, Jason cleared his throat. “And?”

“Sorry. Lost my train of thought.” Jimbo flashed a lazy smile. “Cell phone records on an account listed in Claire Carter’s name didn’t make sense. But if hubby’s using the phone, it paints another picture. Indicates he’s a player. Lo and behold, I found a long list of nubile young things’ phone numbers, most with names like Tiffany and Angel. And here’s another interesting detail. Charge records on one account are also very telling. Again, nothing points to Carl unless you connect the dots and add his name. Changes the picture. Definitely not one of a guy who has a wife at home.”

Jason stared at his drink, thinking. “Not much of an upstanding pillar of the community is he, if the picture’s accurate?” he asked softly. The news only increased his interest.

“Not from my vantage point.” Jimbo paused as the waitress reappeared with a tray full of food and quickly placed plates on the table before hurrying off. “He likes the track. Spends big bucks at Gulfstream Park and calls a bookie regularly. Also frequents trendy bars in South Beach and Fort Lauderdale.” He reached for his sandwich and took a bite. After he chewed and swallowed, he added, “Could be for business, since he’s listed as VP of Sales. But I doubt it. All of them are regular singles’ hangouts. I should know. I’ve been to most of them.”

Jason polished off his potato salad and washed it down with his drink. “Anything on the wife?” he asked before he started on his sandwich.

“She’s as clean as he is dirty. Into her company. Gives to charities and volunteers, basically a real Pollyanna. Though the company credit card is billed to her name, it’s used frequently to charge hotel rooms, jewelry, and bar tabs.” He stopped talking long enough to eat a few more bites. “My money says she isn’t the one making said purchases. An odd pair. Maybe she did kill him. Just looking at what I uncovered makes me want to start stabbing, especially if I was involved with someone like that.”

“You jumping to conclusions already, Jimbo?”

“Sorry. That’s opinion. Despite being related to one Crystal Grayson, she seems like a saint, and the man’s anything but.”

“And now you’re defending the lady? So, which is it? Saint or killer?”

“Merely giving you the details.” Jimbo shook his head and took another bite before he caught Jason’s eye, and an indolent grin settled over his face. “The Carters’ catalog company’s sales have been doubling yearly. Did ten million last year, and netted over three. From what I’ve unearthed after talking to those in the know, she earns it and hubby spends it. You do the math. Isn’t that what you hired me for? Details?”

“But you’re glossing over the most important one. I would’ve thought the detail that she’s Crystal’s sister would speak the loudest.”

“No, Roberts. What speaks is the information I gathered. And if certain assumptions are accurate, she’s a saint on paper if I ever saw one.”

“I didn’t know you were into saints.” Jason bit into his sandwich and chewed, eyeing his friend. For some reason, the reverent way he spoke about Claire annoyed him. When he swallowed, he added, “But I can understand it. Only a saint would put up with you.”

“Don’t give me your psycho-babble bullshit, and don’t give me any saints. I prefer women who have sinned a little. You know that.”

Jason’s only response was to shake his head and offer a ready grin.

“What?” Jim asked, his eyebrows slanted.

“Take it from me. You don’t want a sinner long term,” he replied. “It can be painful when they can’t stop sinning.”

“Now you see why I stay single. Saints like Claire Carter don’t interest me.”

“Just as well.”

Jason couldn’t stop the quick burst of a chuckle erupting straight from his chest, unwilling to admit to how relieved he was at Jimbo’s answer. He pushed from his mind the thought that part of why he was so amused had nothing to do with humor.

“Now, finish telling me what you found out.”

“Thought that was enough to give you a clear picture. Looks as if there’s recent activity on the charge, but it’ll take a bit more time to get that info. Not much more to tell right now. I’ll keep on it. Finances look good. Everything’s held in joint accounts, which surprises me given his penchant for gambling. Company’s a partnership lasting several years. All I can say is hubby must be good in bed for the saint to stay with the sinner for so long.” Jimbo gulped half his drink and then smiled. “You’re not interested in this saint, are you?”

“No.” The sharp retort hung in the air as Jason briefly wondered why it sounded so forced. He added smoothly, “I’m only doing Crystal a favor. You know. For her going all out and getting Elise off my back.”

“Didn’t she bill you for that?” His eyebrows quirked, adding more amusement to his smirk.

“No. She was evasive about the information she unearthed, information even you didn’t find, I might add. She and Elise met for drinks, and the next thing I knew, the papers were signed without a peep. So I owe her.”

“Okay,” Jimbo said, still grinning. “I’ll swallow. But a word of caution, old buddy.” His grin faded. “Don’t get involved with Crystal’s twin.”

“I don’t need a warning.” Jason snorted. “I’ve got my hands full dealing with Elise’s shit to even think of getting involved with a woman, especially a married one like Claire Carter.”

“She’s trouble. If she’s put up with him and his ways for this long, he’s either got something on her or she’s in love with him. And saints tend to love the wrong men.”

Jason swore under his breath and took a long drink of Coke, noting Jimbo’s skeptical expression. The feeble denials hadn’t fooled his friend. But he simply ignored both the look and the warning, refusing to believe he actually needed either. The lady was definitely not a viable candidate for any relationship he’d consider, even if she weren’t married.

“Just keep digging,” he said before returning to his lunch.

• • •

Once back in his office, he punched in the office number Claire had given him. “Claire? Jason Roberts here.”

“Any news?” From both the speed she picked up and the anxious tone of her voice, she had to have been sitting by the phone waiting for his call.

“Some. Got a call from Deputy Snyder.” He didn’t disclose any of the information he’d learned from O’Malley, nor did he say anything about the drugged champagne or the blood bag. News like that should be offered in person. “He’d like to meet with you. To be on the safe side, I’ll go with you.”

“I’m quite capable of driving down and talking with the deputy on my own.”

“You’re my client, remember?”

He smiled at the audible sigh hitting his ears.

“I haven’t paid you a dime,” she said. “Remember?”

“I told you, I’m doing this as a favor to your sister.”

“Mr. Roberts—”

“Jason,” he said, cutting her off.

“Jason.” She paused and added in a curt tone, “I’m not stupid. Let me guess. Your office is in a high-rise in Boca. I’m betting on a top floor with an ocean view, and that doesn’t come cheap. I’ve decided I’d rather not be in my sister’s debt.”

“Then I’ll bill you what I was planning on billing her.”

“I’m not sure I want you as my lawyer.”

“You want me as your lawyer. Trust me.” Jason swiveled around to look out the floor-to-ceiling window at the panoramic ocean view. His grin spread. “Besides, Jimbo only works for me. He’s found out a few interesting details. We can use the drive to update you. I told him to keep working, but like I said, he only works for me.”

“Sounds like a bribe, or even a threat.”

“Take your pick. I use what works.”

She sighed and remained silent. He held his breath, not completely sure of the outcome.

“I guess I can keep you on for another day or so.”

His smile returned. “Good. I’ll drive. How’s three o’clock sound? I know we’ll hit traffic, but that’ll give me time to tie up a few loose ends.” When she neither agreed nor disagreed, he went for broke. “I’ll pick you up. We’ll go to dinner afterward. I bet you haven’t eaten a decent meal all weekend.”

“We’ll see,” was all she said before hanging up on him.

Jason rolled her comment around in his brain and stared unseeing out the window. “Yes, Mrs. Carter. We will see.”

Chapter 5

Claire checked her watch. Two forty-five. Mr. Roberts would be here shortly.

Instantly, her thoughts shifted to the pushy attorney. She had faith he’d help her find her answers. But now that she could think more objectively, a few things bothered her—like the way he’d sidestepped her inquiry about Crystal without explaining their connection. She didn’t trust her sister, for good reason, and she wasn’t about to trust him.

When her buzzer sounded, she tapped the button. “Yes, Amy?”

“Gordon Wilson’s on the line. Says it’s important.”

“Okay.” Claire closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The last thing she needed was a call from her financial planner.

“Gordon? I’m surprised to hear from you. I thought we took care of business weeks ago. Is something wrong?”

“Why are you selling off your portfolio?”

“There must be some mistake. I’m not selling anything.”

Dead silence permeated the line.

“Gordon?” A feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach when he remained silent. “Are you still there? What makes you think I’m selling?”

Finally, Gordon cleared his throat. “Claire, I don’t know how to break it to you, but there’ve been several Internet trades on your account in the past two hours. Half your stocks have been sold and the proceeds sent to another bank.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I put a hold on the account and called the minute I caught it. Thank God I happened to be going through your files, checking to see which stock to sell in order to buy the stock you asked me about, remember?”

“Yes. I remember the conversation. But I didn’t authorize any other transactions.”

“Would Carl be selling off? It is a joint account, and he has the right.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, not wanting him to know that Carl had disappeared. “We haven’t discussed our conversation. Usually, he lets me handle the money side of things.”

“I’m aware of that.”

Claire expelled a large breath. The man didn’t know the half of it. Despite coming from wealth, Carl Carter had no clue about earning money. No clue as to saving or investing it either. The only thing Carl was good at was spending. The headache she’d tried to avoid loomed larger than ever.

“Can you keep the hold? I’m not sure if or why Carl made the transactions,” she lied, knowing full well the bastard was trying to rip her off. “But he’s unavailable right now.”

“Okay,” Gordon said. “E-mail me a request, and I’ll keep it for as long as I can. If someone’s gotten hold of your security information, you might want to consider placing the remaining shares into another account for protection. I’ll also start an internal investigation to try and find out where the trade was initiated. But I gotta warn you, that’s like finding dirt in sand.”

“I will. Thanks, Gordon. I owe you.”

Claire hung up and sat back with closed eyes, blocking out pain.

At least Carl wasn’t dead. Yet why would he take what he already considered his? She was amazed he even knew how to access the stocks, much less have knowledge on how to sell them. He’d never been interested in them before. If nothing else, this confirmed the idea of him disappearing on purpose. Once again, she could kick herself for not divorcing his ass instead of giving him one last chance.

She glanced at her watch before she stood and grabbed her briefcase. Too late to call the attorney and cancel. She might as well meet with the deputy in Key Largo to see if he’d uncovered Carl’s whereabouts, and then go from there. She walked out of her office.

When Amy looked up, she said, “Can you make copies of these and make sure Gwen gets them? Put the originals on my desk.”

“Sure thing,” her assistant said in her perky voice.

Watching Amy sashay away to make copies, Claire now wondered about the office gossip. During their last big fight, Carl had denied there was anything going on, and she’d believed him, mainly because Amy didn’t seem like the type to sleep with another woman’s husband. But what if the rumors were true? After all, sleazy men like Carl tended to take advantage of innocence. Claire was proof of that.

The elevator doors opened. Jason stepped into the reception area and strode up to Amy’s desk where Claire still stood. Funny, she hadn’t paid attention to his looks during their meeting, and didn’t remember him being so attractive. She definitely noticed now that her fears over Carl floating in the ocean were officially snuffed out.

Claire heaved her briefcase’s strap over her shoulder and pushed out thoughts of Carl and his misdeeds. “You’re prompt, Mr. Roberts.”

“I try to be. And it’s Jason, remember?” He pinned her with a stare and grinned.

“Jason,” Claire murmured grudgingly, struggling with her reaction to that beautiful smile, one adding an element of innocence to his demeanor. In a conscious effort, she clenched her fist, stilling the urge to brush away an errant lock of black hair that fell over his forehead, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked, and also wondering why he had such an effect on her.

“Shall we go?”

Mutely, she nodded. It wasn’t so much boyish charm that made Jason so attractive. Claire was used to charming men like her husband. It was that he seemed so oblivious to his charm and so totally different from Carl, who used charm to manipulate.

While discreetly glancing at him, she noticed Jason was dressed much as he’d been the day she’d met him. He wore South Florida’s summer business uniform, neatly pressed Dockers and a short-sleeved polo. His clothes emphasized a physique radiating strength and stealth. She thought it odd how the shirt’s navy color highlighted those intense blue eyes, which added to his innocent, boyish appearance while contrasting so starkly with the powerful man lurking within.

For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t some infatuated teenager with her first crush. Claire gave herself a mental shake and followed him to the elevator. Didn’t she have enough on her plate in dealing with Carl without being enamored with one of Crystal’s friends?

Once the elevator doors closed, the space immediately diminished in size. Her lungs wouldn’t inflate. Though staring straight ahead, her senses seemed heightened. She felt Jason’s presence as if an electrical current surged nearby. The hairs on her body tingled at the exact moment the tangy aroma of deodorant mixed with aftershave wafted under her nose.

The doors opened and they headed for the glass entrance. When he stopped to hold the door for her, she rushed past, relishing the bright Florida sunshine, and thankful to be out in the open where she could finally breathe again, no matter that the temperature and humidity were stifling.

She sighed and slid into the passenger side of his silver Mercedes. It was going to be a long afternoon.

• • •

Twenty-five minutes later, while driving south toward Key Largo and after just exiting the turnpike, Jason glanced at Claire, who stared out the window, a solemnity etched into her expression. He’d endured her silent treatment for most of their brief association and should be used to it. In reality, her silence alone didn’t bother him. What bothered him more was the sense of impending doom emanating from her.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” he said, hoping to ease some of the anxiety that hung about the car.

Her shoulders stiffened and her body tightened. Even her hair looked stiff. “I already know what you think, so tell me something different.”

“Okay.” A slight smile tugged at the edges of his lips and turned into a full-on grin. Claire’s irritation was a huge improvement. She was much easier to deal with when her body language shouted bristling annoyance rather than dread. “How long’s he been cheating? And why’d you keep it from me?”

Oops. Smooth move and definitely the wrong questions he realized too late as her chin jutted defiantly and angry green eyes flashed daggers of fury aimed directly at him.

Yet, she didn’t answer. Instead, after throwing her mental barbs, she returned her attention to the window and kept it there, silently gazing at the passing scenery once more. Only this time her demeanor revealed an outraged edge.

“So you’re not going to talk to me?” he said moments later, once the silence in the car became deafening. “How can I help if you don’t talk to me?”

“I don’t want or need your help. Not anymore.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the cheating crack. Okay? It was unprofessional and uncalled for. I have no excuse other than I’m trying to find answers. Isn’t that what you hired me to do?”

When she sat stonily silent with a mutinous expression, his frustration mounted. He took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. What was it about the woman that brought his irritation to a head so quickly? After another few miles of total quiet, he tried again.

“Look, I was goading you. I thought if I threw that out, you’d be more forthcoming.”

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No.” He shrugged. “But I was only trying to find out what’s going on.”

“Why? So you can dissect my pathetic marriage?”

Her statement stunned him into silence. He had no answer. Who was he to throw stones when he had his own pathetic marriage to get over?

“I’m on your side, Claire,” he finally said.

“I don’t believe that.” Her voice turned more contemptuous. “You’re on Jason Roberts’s side, and you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t really trust you because you’re also on Crystal’s side.”

“This has nothing to do with Crystal,” he shouted back, unsure of why her accusations got to him. He squeezed the steering wheel until the urge to hit something died down.

Why the hell did it matter what she thought about his association with her sister? He couldn’t ignore the strange vibes he’d picked up as to Claire’s relationship with her twin.

What’s up with that?

Even though he wondered, he added in a calmer voice, “What goes on between us is confidential. Crystal’s a lawyer. She knows that.”

“I don’t like the connection.” She crossed her arms, still fuming. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

He snorted. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. I think we should call it quits. I don’t know why I let you get this involved in the first place.”

“You know why. Crystal called me and said you needed help.”

“Exactly. You owed Crystal.”

“I don’t fricking believe this,” he muttered.

Jason shook his head, not bothering to hide his astonishment. Casting a glance skyward, he quickly prayed for divine intervention in dealing with the recalcitrant lady while taking a deep breath to contain his temper.

“Initially, yes,” he said as calmly as he could. “But the favor to Crystal’s ended. Now I’m here because something’s going on, and I truly want to help.”

“Is that so?” Her incredulous expression replaced the disdain that had been prevalent during most of their heated exchange. “Well, nothing’s going on that I can’t handle easily enough with another lawyer, preferably one who doesn’t know Crystal. You’re right about Carl. He’s not dead, so you can call off the investigator. You’re both fired.” Her voice hardened as her jaw tightened. “Send me a bill. I certainly don’t want to have to pay him for finding out information I already know. Stop the car and turn around.”

Okay, so Claire had reservations, which he could understand. But she couldn’t be totally dismissing him. Could she?

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“I don’t care what you advise. I agreed to include you in this meeting with Deputy Snyder, against my better judgment. But it was a big mistake. So, turn around and take me home.”

“I’m not turning around. We’re almost there.” When he noticed the way her spine stiffened and her expression closed even tighter, he pulled over to the side of the road. “Think about what you’re saying. I’m here now, and you should go in to see Deputy Snyder if only to finish what you started. Once that’s done, we can go from there.”

Claire glared at him. And even though the effect was muted through dark glasses, he felt the irritation she projected. He let out a relieved breath when she nodded and said in a resolute voice, “Okay. But once it’s over, your responsibility toward me will end.”

That’s what you think, sweetheart, Jason mused as he watched the stubborn expression flit over her lovely face.

Claire Carter intrigued him. There was no way he was going to drop it. Not when his interest had spiked, leaving him filled with questions from the moment he’d met her. He’d be damned if he’d let a little thing like her reluctance get in the way of satisfying his curiosity.

• • •

Claire reached for the door handle but was only halfway out of the car before Jason stood beside her, offering a hand. She flashed him a heated look, which he completely disregarded.

“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, annoyed that she couldn’t ignore his imposing presence.

The last hour spent in the confined space was the longest of her life. All she wanted at this point was to get away from him and forget she ever met him.

“Sure you do,” he said much too pleasantly. He chuckled. “Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world. We’ll work it out.”

She didn’t answer except to send him another fuming glare. She wished he’d quit being so nice, quit being so efficient and so insightful. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and what she needed. And how could he? No one knew that, not even herself.

Why had she agreed to this? She should have called the deputy and told him about the stocks. Too late now. No way she could tell Snyder without Jason overhearing. The man already knew too much of her personal business, thanks to what Jim O’Malley had obviously unearthed.

Carl’s affairs were old news, but after being duped with a promise to change, the thought that he might still be cheating enraged her. Having Jason blatantly throw it in her face only made her angrier, mostly with herself for being so stupid. She’d simply find another lawyer for help in dealing with Carl. And the new lawyer could deal with the deputy at the same time.

Having no choice, she allowed the irksome attorney to lead her inside the building. The guy had a knack for taking charge.

Deputy Snyder stood waiting at the same door as their last meeting. And just like then, Claire hated the thought of being in the airless room with the commanding man next to her.

“Thanks for coming. Have a seat.” Snyder gestured to the table.

“I no longer believe anything happened to my husband, Deputy Snyder. He disappeared on purpose.” Claire nodded and sat in the chair Jason had pulled out. “I hate wasting your time. I apologize for not calling, especially since I know how busy you are.”

“Then Mr. Roberts filled you in on the drugged champagne.”

“Drugged champagne?” Her gaze moved first to the deputy before it settled on Jason. “He forgot to mention that.” The condemning look she sent him didn’t faze him as he met her stare without flinching. She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice when she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t have a chance. You fired me, remember?” he taunted.

“Mrs. Carter,” Deputy Snyder interjected, pulling her attention back to him. “One of the flutes was laced with scopolamine and morphine. Are you familiar with the drugs?”

“I’ve heard of them,” she answered, looking down at her hands.

“When combined, they cause delirium and amnesia.”

“You’re telling me I was drugged?”

“Your symptoms point to it.”

“Carl drugged me?” Claire blinked back tears and absorbed the implications. “No. I refuse to believe it.” She turned her focus on Jason. “You knew the whole time?”

“Claire—” Jason said, but was cut off when Snyder asked, “Do you know of any reason why your husband would go to such trouble?”

Suddenly, it was all too much. She couldn’t stay here a moment longer. “Take me home,” she demanded of Jason while abruptly getting to her feet. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you, ma’am,” Deputy Snyder said, adding as she started for the door, “I know this can’t be easy to hear, but I’d still like to ask a few questions.”

She was almost out of the room when he said to Jason, “Well, that went real smooth. See if you can get her back in here. As it stands now, there’s no proof that a crime has even been committed, and without her cooperation, my hands are tied.”

Once outside, Claire felt Jason’s presence behind her before he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on? I promise you, I only want to help.”

Her fingers dug into her palms until the sharp pain registered. She inhaled and uncurled her fingers in an effort to relax.

“How can I tell you when I don’t know myself?”

“Then let’s go back inside and use the deputy to find out.”

“No.” She sighed. “I only want to go home.”

“Come on,” he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward his car.

Claire obediently followed and slid into the front seat of his Mercedes after he opened the door. She stayed silent as he climbed in beside her, started the car, and backed out of the space. When he turned the opposite direction onto the main road, heading south away from Miami, she spoke up.

“I thought you were taking me to my car.”

“Not just yet.”

“I want to go home,” she said through clenched teeth.

Undeterred, he met her gaze. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“That’s hardly your concern. Now turn around.” She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin, refusing to let him take charge again.

“You’ll like this place,” he said, ignoring her protests and flashing that innocent, boyish grin she was becoming all too familiar with. “Antonio’s promises great food, as well as atmosphere. It’s worth the drive, especially when life’s overwhelming.”

In minutes, they turned into a parking lot hidden behind live oaks and lots of greenery. The restaurant, a liberal description, sported a large weathered deck hanging over the water. The place appeared to be fairly small and run-down, a local dive. Definitely not a tourist hangout.

Jason opened Claire’s car door and helped her out. Then he grabbed her hand, tugging her with him toward the entrance and giving her no option but to tag along.

Her annoyance at his taking over vanished the second she stepped inside as the scent of baked bread, tomato sauce, garlic, basil, and other spices assaulted her nostrils. A growling stomach knocked out the last of her resistance. It had been too long since she’d last eaten.

“Okay. I could be persuaded to eat,” she murmured. Dinner did seem like a good idea, but only because she was suddenly ravenous.

The overbearing man would soon learn she wasn’t about to bend on anything else.

Chapter 6

“What the hell are you thinking, screwing up our plans like /that?” The woman stormed into the hotel room, pushing past Carl Carter when he opened the door. “You are such a moron. You can’t even do one thing right. How could you be so stupid?”

“I did everything just like you told me, so if anyone’s stupid, it’s you.”

Carl shrugged nonchalantly, unconcerned with the enticing woman’s furious expression. He had his own agenda, and it didn’t include sharing anything with a controlling woman like her. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her while he waited for his plans to finalize.

Watching her, he smiled inwardly and licked his lips in anticipation. The woman’s anger quickened his pulse, and he felt a stirring in his groin. She had a hot temper, easily ignited. Screwing her when she was mad as hell always made for great sex.

“Why not advertise the fact that you drugged her?” Her voice held a sarcastic edge. She shook her head and all but snarled. “You were supposed to rinse out the flutes. How could you be so careless? Without proof, she’d have never known.”

“I was a little drunk at the time. And you picked me up. Why didn’t you remind me, or do it yourself?”

“Did it ever occur to you to ease off the champagne?” She started pacing.

Yep, Carl thought as he watched her wear a rut in the carpet. All that glorious hair and those thoroughbred legs. Hot sex. Primed and waiting, needing only a jump-start.

“You told me to make it look authentic.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I got carried away. Lost track of what I was doing. She can be as hot as you, babe.”

“Don’t give me any babe shit. This was the perfect way to make Claire suffer, and now it’s completely unraveling. They found the empty blood bag.”

The news stopped him short, and he swore under his breath. “It was careless of me not to stow it properly.” The bag had blown away during the ride back to the car. He damn sure didn’t think they’d find it this soon, though.

His grin was back as he shrugged off the mistake. “This was your idea, babe,” he goaded. He had his own strategy for making Claire suffer—one that was still intact. “If it’s messed up, I’m sure you’ll fix it.”

“You’re pathetic,” she snapped, her green eyes flashing pure rage. “Why do I put up with you?”

He stalked over to her, wrapped an arm around her neck, and jerked her forcefully to him. “You know why,” he ground out.

His lips weren’t gentle when they collided with hers as he used his mouth to still her outbursts. His busy hands weren’t gentle either, touching spots he knew would draw an immediate response. Instantly, she was all over him, and there was no finesse to her touch.

“I love it when you’re hot and bothered,” he whispered. He nipped at her ear, biting the lobe none too tenderly before he trailed hot kisses across her cheek.

Other than on the sailboat, Claire never got hot and bothered, and he’d put up with her long enough. To think she’d given him an ultimatum. His money had saved her company and enabled it to grow. He had no intention of settling for half.

The woman’s moan pulled him out of his thoughts, and he smiled before taking that gorgeous, pouting mouth once again. Only this time, his lips and tongue softened as they thoroughly kissed her, effectively sucking passion from her, increasing the intensity of her reaction.

Ah, yes, he thought. Primed and ready, and so was he.

“You think sex will solve this?” she asked when he released her lips.

Both were breathing heavily. As he looked into eyes that had changed from stormy anger to stormy fervor, his only answer was a slow, sensual smile. It was exactly what would shut her up.

“It’s what I’m good at,” he murmured before grinding his mouth against hers once more. When he moved into her heat and let her feel his erection, she moaned again, causing him to groan.

“And you have to admit. It’s a lot better than fighting.”

Chapter 7

“Jason!”

Claire glanced up as the pleasant voice added, “Where’ve you been hiding? You’ve been a stranger for too long.”

“Sophia.” Jason’s face lit with a welcoming smile when a large-boned woman wearing a chef’s apron took his outstretched hand. Her once jet-black hair was caught up in a neat bun, dulled with streaks of gray that were the first clue to her age.

Once she was closer, Claire noted deep laugh lines highlighting friendly brown eyes on a handsome older face. Time had muted the woman’s beauty, but her graceful bearing and warm smile negated the effects.

Jason turned to Claire and nodded. “This is Claire Carter. I figured she could use some good Italian cooking.”

“Any friend of Jason’s is a friend of ours,” Sophia said.

Claire’s earlier annoyance dissipated as Sophia took hold of her hand and pulled her into an exuberant embrace.

Keeping an arm around her shoulder, Sophia added while leading her into the room, “Come on in, we’ll fix you right up. Antonio’s been busy. Special today is angel hair pasta with shrimp and mussels.” She stopped and grinned at Jason. “Would you like to eat inside or on the deck?”

• • •

An hour later, Claire sighed and stretched her legs, feeling replete after enjoying one of the most delicious feasts she’d ever eaten. All during the meal Jason had entertained her with stories of his boyhood, staying off the subject of Carl and his disappearance.

“How’d you find this place?” she asked.

“My parents own a second home about a mile away. I’ve been coming here since I was a boy.” Jason topped off her glass with red wine before emptying the remainder into his own glass. “It’s one of my favorite spots, especially on Mondays when it’s not too crowded. Sophia and Antonio don’t need tourists. Too many locals know about it, so it’s always packed.”

When they first sat down to eat, they were the only couple out on the deck. Now it was starting to fill, but she still noted plenty of vacant tables.

The breeze off the water made the typical hot and muggy South Florida evening more tolerable, although the sauna-like heat never bothered Claire. She lifted her face to the breeze, perfectly content to be outside and enjoy the magnificent view.

In the distance, Mother Nature flexed her power. Flashes of lightning burst from thunderclouds that had gathered near the horizon, as the sky darkened for endless moments before the sun came out of hiding. The effect of the light show was an impressive display of color from burnt orange to midnight blue as it changed from light to dark.

Claire picked up her wine, eyeing it thoughtfully before sipping. “It is nice.”

She didn’t want to admit that the pushy attorney had been right again. The quiet meal, complete with dazzling scenery and good conversation, had been something she’d desperately needed. Even the wine she normally didn’t drink went down easily.

Her gaze centered on Jason and she smiled. “How’d you know this would help?”

“I told you. It’s where I come when the world’s crashing down around me.”

She giggled and took another sip. “I don’t imagine that happens too often.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said softly.

They had a lot in common, she realized, thinking about the childhood he’d revealed during the course of their meal. Both came from stable families, third-generation Floridians, something of a rarity in a state whose population growth came mostly from transplants arriving from all parts of the globe, not just the eastern United States.

“Can I tempt you?” Sophia glided up to their table, pushing a cart laden with the most decadent desserts Claire had ever seen.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty full.” She groaned, shaking her head as she glanced at the older woman.

“Go on,” Sophia urged her. “It’s on the house.”

“You decide.” Jason laughed and stood. “I’ve got to visit the little boy’s room.”

Claire watched him leave and then grinned at Sophie, who was also watching him.

“It’s good to see him laughing. He’s like one of my own.” Her attention returned to Claire. “Now, what would you like? Jason’s little Amelia always has the chocolate mousse, although I have no idea where she puts it, and Chloe always has the tiramisu.”

“Amelia and Chloe?” she asked, her gaze narrowing.

“Jason’s daughters.”

“Jason has children?” She never imagined the imposing attorney as a dad. The thought that he was happily married with a family made her a little bit envious. She’d always wanted children. Now it looked as if she’d never have a family.

“They’re lovely girls, and usually in tow when he comes in. He’s always talking about passing something he loved from his childhood down to the younger generation. We’re only too happy to oblige.” Sophia nodded at the dessert cart. “Now, pick something out. Otherwise I’ll feel insulted.”

“Okay.” Claire shoved the negative thoughts away and pointed to a chocolate éclair. “I’ll have that, but only if Jason helps me eat it.”

“Good choice. Jason has a soft spot for éclairs.” Sophia placed the dessert on the table along with two forks. “Of course, he has a soft spot for anything sweet,” she said with a conspiratorial wink before she turned and pushed the cart in the direction Jason had disappeared.

A moment later, he sauntered toward the table, brandishing his usual boyish smile.

“I picked out an éclair,” Claire told him. “I hope you don’t mind. I love them.”

His eyes crinkled at the edges when his grin widened. He nodded and sat. “I like anything sweet.”

“That’s what Sophia said.”

Claire cut the éclair in two and started eating. Jason picked up a fork.

After a few bites, she added, “She also told me about your daughters.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows shot up, and he eyed her speculatively while he swallowed. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“I guess that means you’re married,” she said, ignoring his question.

“For the moment.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a family man.”

Jason laughed. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“So, what’s a guy like you doing with Crystal? She’s not exactly kid friendly.”

“What do you think?”

Glancing at the bite on her fork, she shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. That’s why I asked.”

“Bullshit. I know precisely what you think.”

“Really?” She met his stare. “You can read my mind?”

“Don’t have to. Accusation’s written all over your face. Plus, you’ve been alluding to it since we met.” He snorted and shook his head. “You think I cheated on my wife and had an affair with your sister. Don’t you?”

His gaze resettled on hers, and she couldn’t stop the heat she felt stealing up her face at his accurate assumption. After all, married men tended to be Crystal’s specialty.

“Well?” she finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity after he resumed eating. “You’re not going to bother denying it?”

“No. Believe what you want. Besides, it’s really none of your business.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I deserved that,” she said softly, allowing a contrite expression to move over her face to replace the embarrassed one. “You’re right. It is none of my business, but I’d love to hear about your kids. Amelia and Chloe, right?” She meant the question as a peace offering, hoping to revert to their easy rapport before she’d opened her big mouth. When he nodded, she smiled. “How old are they?”

He observed Claire cautiously, as if weighing her sincerity. “Amelia’s turning ten in another month, and Chloe’s eight.”

“Where are they tonight? How come you’re cheering up a crazy person, instead of being home with your wife and kids?”

“The girls are with their mother this week.”

“This week?”

“Yeah. It’s part of the divorce agreement Crystal worked out.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He swirled his wineglass, studying the contents. “It’s not my finest accomplishment, so I don’t bandy it about.”

“How long were you married?”

“Eleven long years,” he said with a sigh. His wistful gaze moved to a distant point. “I married Elise right out of law school. Was going to take on the world, ya know?” He snorted and took a sip of wine. “Of course the problem with dreams like that, once they crack, they shatter so easily. Nothing’s left but tiny shards of dreams. And even if you put the pieces together again, the original is distorted.”

Claire heard the regret in his voice and looked down at her fork, uncomfortable without knowing why.

“Enough of that. We’re not here to dissect my failures any more than we came to dissect your marriage.”

The teasing quality in his tone drew her attention to his face. The innocent grin plastered there had her grin reappearing.

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “It’s better if we both stay off the subject of failure.”

With the check paid and no more reason for lingering, Claire allowed Jason to help her out of her chair. Watching him hug Sophia, she couldn’t dismiss that her relationship with Jason had begun changing during their meal. Though she still knew next to nothing about him and couldn’t forget his interesting connection with Crystal, something had altered the way she viewed the man.

Because his life wasn’t picture perfect, Jason now seemed more approachable, less intimidating. That made him all the more dangerous, as well as all the more attractive. Reason enough to stay far, far away from him. She did not need to be thinking such thoughts, not until she dealt with Carl.

They drove back to her car in comfortable silence. He pulled into the parking lot and eased into a spot close to her Lexus. Shifting into PARK, he turned to face her, his usual friendly grin overtaking his face.

The car suddenly seemed too confining, and Claire had an overwhelming urge to flee. Squelching the impulse, she extended a hand.

“Thank you for a very nice evening.”

“Friends?”

The request was too hard to deny, especially considering the way his engaging grin captivated her and held her gaze. Claire knew at that moment she had good cause for being careful around him.

She shook her head and barked out a burst of nervous laughter. “I guess we are friends.”

“Good. Then you should know I told Jim O’Malley to keep digging. I’m sticking with this until I have some better answers.”

Her smile died and her back stiffened. She eyed him warily. “Why?”

“You’re my friend, and I’m worried about you.”

“I appreciate the concern. But it’s unnecessary.” When she grabbed the door handle, he reached to open his door. Noticing his intent, Claire hurriedly said, “You don’t need to do that.” She jumped out, but he was quicker. “Jason. I’m quite all right. Really.”

Her protests hit deaf ears. She heaved a heavy sigh and walked with him to her car, where he held out his hand, clearly expecting her to hand over the key. Again she complied, knowing she had no choice. Once Jason Roberts put his mind to something, he was immovable.

After opening the door, he offered the key with one hand while the other took her chin. He planted a simple kiss on her cheek.

“Good night, Claire.” He turned and sauntered to his car, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll be in touch to let you know what Jimbo finds out.”

She stood for a moment watching him, wondering about their similar circumstances. How different would her life be if she’d picked someone like him for a spouse rather than Carl?

When Jason drove off, leaving the parking lot empty except for her Lexus, Claire felt utterly alone. Sighing, she climbed inside and started the engine. Being alone was definitely better than being with someone who didn’t love you.

Besides, she reasoned, she wasn’t totally alone. She now had a new friend.

Chapter 8

The next morning, Claire’s cell phone buzzed, interrupting her meeting with Gwen as they sat in the conference room. Amy, who always helped out with last-minute details when they neared deadline, was also present. Storyboards were scattered about the large oak table.

“Sorry.” Claire offered an apologetic shrug after noting the caller ID. “I need to take this.”

Wondering what Carl’s banker wanted, she took off her earring, hit the ON button, and cradled the phone between her shoulder and head while flipping through proofs.

“Good morning, Mr. Hennessy. What can I do for you?”

Her smile died and a cold chill raced up her spine as she listened to his explanation.

“No. Carl’s not available at the moment. Why don’t you send the paperwork over with a courier, and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of?” She broke off and forced a smile, hoping it translated to her voice. “I’m sure a week’s delay won’t be a problem. Our concern is accuracy.”

Claire hung up, barely able to contain her rage. “That bastard!”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken the words out loud until Gwen said, “What’s wrong?”

Claire glanced up, noting both women’s interest. Pinpricks of furious tears burned her eyes, but she blinked hard, forcing them back.

Though worry had taken a small vacation while she was in Jason’s company the evening before, the minute she was alone her anxiety had returned, resulting in another sleepless night. She’d woken up this morning determined to stay strong, but with William Hennessy’s news just now, everything slammed into her at once and she felt herself coming completely apart.

“What’s happened?” Gwen prodded. “Is it Carl?”

“It’s Carl, all right,” she spat out. “It’s not enough the bastard drugs me, sets it up to look like I killed him, and then steals our assets. Now he’s leveraging the business.”

“What?” Amy asked, her eyes practically popping out of her head.

“He’s stooped too low this time. I really will kill him before I let him take everything.”

Looking into two shocked faces, Claire realized she’d said too much. Without explaining any further, she gathered her things and handed the pile to Gwen. “You two will have to take care of this without my input. I’ve got a few calls to make.”

Gwen hesitated, eyeing Claire with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t ask. It’s too complicated.”

While heading out of the conference room, her thoughts were on her asshole of a husband. Husband. Ha! What a laugh. He’d never been a husband . . . more like a spoiled child. She was finally tired. Tired of everything.

Thank God that Hennessy, being an exacting man, had called asking for her when he couldn’t get in touch with Carl. Seemed there’d been some small glitch in the paperwork he and Carl were working on, and it had to be redone.

Claire’s next step involved taking action. No way that sniveling coward would steal what was hers. She stormed into her office, picked up her phone, and punched a preset button she never thought she’d use again, until now.

“Crystal Grayson.”

“Crystal? It’s Claire.”

“Claire?”

“You got a minute? I need you.”

“That’s a switch.”

“I didn’t call to fight about past grievances. Carl’s disappeared.”

“So I heard. I can’t believe the bastard drugged you.”

“How’d you know?” The news stunned Claire.

“Jason told me when I asked how things were going.”

“It’s gotten worse,” she said, ignoring a twinge of annoyance. So what if her sister and Jason had a relationship? “He’s selling our assets. Plus, he applied for a large loan, using the company as collateral. My signature’s on the form. Crystal, he forged my name. If not for an error in paperwork, he’d abscond with over ten million dollars and bankrupt the company. I need to stop him.”

“About damn time.”

Claire clenched her teeth. “You can gloat later.”

“I don’t want to gloat.” Crystal sighed, and her voice took on a conciliatory quality. “Believe it or not, I did what I did for you. So you could see what an asshole he is.”

“Spare me the details.” Claire snorted.

Only Crystal could make herself out to be some kind of hero for screwing her sister’s husband. Yet Claire had bigger worries now, so she relented, doing something she’d sworn she’d ever do—ask her twin for help.

“You’re the attorney. Get me the divorce you promised and stop him. I want the bastard nailed. Maybe I can sue him for desertion.”

“Let me work on the means,” Crystal replied. “I’ll make a few calls and start proceedings. Do you want me to contact Jason for you?”

“No. I fired him.” Or at least, she thought she had.

“Why? He may be a little distracted because of his own nasty divorce, but he’s the best there is.” Crystal broke off and then sighed. “Never mind. I know why. It’s because I sent him, isn’t it?”

“It had nothing to do with you,” Claire lied, unwilling to divulge the reasons for her unease with the charming attorney.

“Jason’s special. I hope you were nice to him and didn’t take our differences out on him, because I did you a huge favor sending him.”

There was a touch of censure along with wistfulness in her twin’s tone. Claire shook her head, dismissing it.

“I don’t need him any longer.” Crystal couldn’t have a thing for Jason, considering her sister’s tendency to use men rather callously. “Carl’s obviously alive to be making my life miserable, so I know I didn’t kill him. Not yet.”

Still, it wasn’t like Crystal to call a man “special,” or to say “hope you were nice” in a sentence about anyone. In fact, it was usually Claire who did that type of begging.

After scheduling a time to meet and saying good-byes, she hung up the phone, wondering for the hundredth time what, if anything, was going on between her twin and the irritating attorney.

• • •

Later, Claire sat behind Carl’s desk and searched through his personal effects.

Nothing.

She shoved the drawer shut in a fit of frustration, but it caught. After readjusting, she spied the problem and yanked papers to undo the small jam. The drawer glided shut.

Why were charge receipts stuck in Carl’s desk? Had he meant to hide them?

She inspected the small pieces of paper more closely. They were from a local hotel. The date and amount told her they were probably for a room.

Claire headed for her office, intent on researching more thoroughly. Once there, she picked up a phone and dialed Harris, the head of accounting.

“Can you pull all the expense reports in the last six months for the sales department?”

“Of course. It may take a bit of time.”

“No problem. Call me when you have them. I want to review them.”

Within an hour, she stood at Harris’s desk, going over them.

“What about this card number?” she asked, nonchalantly giving him the account number off the receipt she’d found.

Harris took the number and typed. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Are you sure you have the right number?” he asked, searching her face.

“No,” she replied hesitantly, unwilling to say more. “Why?”

“That’s not a sales account. It’s listed as one of yours, or rather C. Carter.”

“What?”

“Your signature’s on all the paperwork.” He pointed to the screen. “It’s all right there.”

She glanced at the screen and sure enough, there was her signature.

“My mistake,” she murmured, keeping her face from showing any emotion when inside, she seethed. “I must’ve mixed up the numbers.”

As she eyed the information, her mind spun. “Can you print those pages, as well as the last month of sales expenses so I can compare them to my copies?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No. Of course not. I just found a receipt of Carl’s, and I’m trying to figure out where it goes,” she lied, hoping the lame excuse would work.

Harris only nodded, his look telling her he wasn’t totally convinced. But since she was the boss, he didn’t say more.

When he handed her the information she’d requested, she smiled and thanked him before returning to her office. Seated at her desk again, she turned on her computer and went online. For more than an hour, she searched charge records from the number on the receipt, looking closely at statements and seeing several duplicate entries.

She called the credit card company, asking for clarification on certain line items. Armed with the information, she googled the Ocean View Resort and quickly punched in the phone number.

“C. Carter’s room, please?” she said when an operator answered.

“One moment and I’ll connect you.”

Having gotten what she wanted, Claire hung up the phone and swiveled her chair. She sat, immobile, staring out her window without seeing the view.

Chapter 9

“You got a minute?” Deputy Snyder asked after Jason picked up the phone and recognized his voice.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“The forensic preliminary report on the blood came back. The evidence suggests the blood was most likely planted. Poured from a distance of eight to twelve inches.”

Unsurprised, Jason grunted but stayed silent, waiting for the deputy to continue.

“Something to do with the way they splattered or didn’t splatter and the trail. My guy says it’s human. His hunch is that it came from the blood bag we found to get that type of consistency without smears or footprints.” Snyder paused a moment and added, “And the bloody knife is just that. A bloody knife, as if someone dipped it. If it had gone into skin or hit bone, the serrated edges would’ve held at least minute traces of tissue. Tissue was found, all right, but it was animal tissue, not human. So it’s unlikely anyone was stabbed.”

“Interesting,” Jason murmured, leaning back into his chair. “Not very thorough, is he?”

“Must not watch much CSI.” Snyder chuckled before his demeanor sobered. “Since the wife was drugged, I’m betting the husband’s responsible. Makes me curious as to why anyone would go to such lengths to disappear while ineptly trying to make it appear as if his wife was guilty of some heinous crime. Pretty sadistic, if you ask me.”

“Who knows what goes through people’s minds. So, what happens now?”

“A report’s been filed. Since the evidence points to the husband leaving on his own and the wife isn’t pushing, the investigation will probably end up in limbo because other cases take priority.”

Jason thanked Snyder and hung up, his mind spinning. Eventually, he picked up the phone and punched in a number he’d memorized.

“Claire?”

“Jason? This is a surprise. I thought I was clear. I no longer want or need your services.”

“I know. Did you eat anything today?”

“No,” she said on a sigh. “But I’m betting you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

He could sense her smile through the phone, and it brought out one of his own.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Consider it part of my job description as a friend. You’ve got to eat sometime, so I’ll be by your office in an hour. I’m picking up my boat this afternoon to sail back to the marina. It’s been in dry dock for two weeks, having the bottom scraped and painted.”

“I don’t—”

“You should know I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ve got too much work to take the afternoon—”

“This isn’t about work,” he interrupted again. “It’s about making sure you take care of yourself. You’ve had a rough week. I barbecue a mean steak. I promise a nice, relaxing evening on the water. One that includes a very nutritious meal.”

The line was silent before she sighed. “You bribing me again?”

“I told you; I use what works.” He smiled. “I’ll be there in an hour, so be ready. You won’t regret it.”

His grin spread wider as he hung up to Claire’s burble of laughter.

• • •

Claire’s smile was still in place when she heard the final click. The guy had a hard time understanding concepts, especially if they contained the word no. But she was glad of it. She didn’t want to be by herself, not after the morning she’d had tracking down Carl.

An hour later, she let go of the glass door and walked outside just as Jason drove up and stopped short a few feet in front of her.

“You’re prompt,” he said once she’d hopped inside the Mercedes.

“I try to be,” Claire murmured, remembering his words from yesterday.

“My kind of lady.”

He whipped onto I-95 and drove forty-five minutes north until he exited the interstate. In another ten minutes, he pulled into the parking lot of a boat yard.

Claire looked around and noted dozens of boats in various stages of repair.

“Which one is yours?” she asked, wondering what type of sailboat he owned.

The man was too good a sailor to own a powerboat. In the boating world, there were only two types—those fortunate to sail, and everyone else.

“That’s the Seawind over there.” He pointed to a sloop that had to be at least forty-five feet long, docked and ready to go.

“She’s beautiful,” Claire whispered.

“Wait till you see her under full sail. Only another sailor can truly appreciate the way she cuts through the water, like a knife through soft butter. And she’s fast.”

Pride rang in his voice, and she understood it. Fast under sail meant something totally different from fast under power. When heeled over on a sailboat, traveling through the water with both the sun and the wind hitting the face and no loud engine to mar the silence, it wasn’t about speed. Usually the boat wasn’t going much over six knots, or roughly seven miles an hour.

Claire had spent years mastering the power of the wind and the challenge of the sea, learning to sail a boat built to harness both. It was an exhilarating experience to be able to hoist a bit of cloth and make the sloop move without the aid of a noisy engine.

Jason paid and arranged to have his car driven back to the marina in Boca. Claire followed him and stepped on board the Seawind. They swiftly unloaded the provisions he’d bought earlier along with his gear, and pushed away from the dock.

As they motored north toward the Palm Beach Inlet along the Intracoastal Waterway, Jason gave her a quick rundown on the specifics.

“Where are we sailing and how long will it take?” Claire asked as they passed the red buoy with flashing lights that signaled sailors from miles away.

“South to the Boca Inlet.” He was totally at ease at the helm. The boat then glided between the jetties of large rocks on either side of the inlet, heading into the deeper waters of the Atlantic Ocean. “The marina’s not too far from there. It should take several hours.”

They passed the green buoy that indicated the mouth of the channel. Both busied themselves unfurling the sails, Jason raising the mainsail and she the jib. Done, he switched off the motor. Silence surrounded them except for the water lapping at the boat as it heeled over, along with the flapping of the sails until he trimmed them by turning the winch to take out the slack as the canvas filled with air.

After Jason set the course and the autopilot, he lounged across from her, appearing relaxed.

“Today’s a good day for doing this because the wind’s coming from the north-northwest and the seas are fairly flat. We’ll be going downwind after tacking out a ways.”

She nodded and remained silent. They were heading out into the deep ocean, away from land. Normally, she didn’t sail this far north. There were no heavy swells to contend with in the shallower water off Key Largo, which she preferred and was why she kept her boat there. Nor did the Gulf Stream current affect sailing that far south. Both yielded a totally different experience.

Jason gave her a small smile. “I promised to feed you.”

As he went below, Claire stayed topside, enjoying the warm wind on her face. He returned with a plate of hors d’oeuvres and went below again, this time carrying a small cooler of soft drinks and bottled water.

“Eat up.” He nodded to the broccoli florets, baby carrots, dip, and crackers with cheese. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Claire reached for a floret, dipped it in the ranch dressing, and nibbled, ravenous all of a sudden, yet irritated because he understood her enough to know that. Carl had never been so solicitous, even during the past few months when he’d worked to get back on her good side. She hated comparing her husband with Jason, but the stark differences that emerged every time she was with him made the task impossible.

“Tell me about your relationship with Crystal.”

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up. “What about it?”

“We’re friends, remember?” His smile was quick.

Claire shook her head. She should be immune to that engaging grin by now. It had no effect over her.

Yeah, right!

Even Carl’s smile came in a close second, she realized. Still, if she kept telling herself the lie, she might actually start to believe it. She bit her lip to suppress a smile and mentally added another unwanted comparison to her list.

“Maybe,” she said, ignoring the tiny flutters coming from her stomach his grin set off. “But some things I don’t even tell friends.”

“What’d she do? Have an affair with Carl?”

Claire sucked in a sharp breath and blew it out slowly. Her attention wandered to the west and the passing Palm Beach skyline. His glib comment would not ruin her mood.

“Why do you do that?” She snared his gaze and held it firmly so he could see she expected an honest answer.

“Do what?”

Though he tried to laugh it off as a joke, his demeanor contradicted the effort. She wasn’t fooled for a minute, and had no intention of letting the comment go.

“Say things only to annoy me.”

“Is that what I was doing?”

“You know it was.”

“Must be the defense attorney in me,” he replied evasively with a shrug. His gaze roamed to a point past her on the water.

“Well, stop it. I don’t like being cross-examined. It’s not what I’d call friendly behavior.”

He was quiet for too long, clearly mulling over her words. Then he sighed.

“Okay.” His eyes held sincerity as well as a spark of amusement. “How about this. I tell you my relationship with her, and you tell me yours.”

“Why would you care?”

“Friendly curiosity. I like knowing what makes my friends tick.”

Jason really had the best smile, she decided, working hard not to be taken in by it. He was so charming, but totally different from Carl. Jason’s charm was an unconscious effort, not some manipulative ploy, which was all the more attractive and definitely a reason to be wary. Funny how that too had now become a comparison between them.

She’d been such a fool to trust her husband again. Could she trust her instincts here? Probably not. Carl’s charm had led to several years of frustration. No telling where Jason’s would lead. She wasn’t about to go there, no matter how attractive she found him.

“Is that part of the defense attorney too?” Claire’s tone came out too harsh, and she softened it. “Looking for hidden motives?”

“I never thought of it that way, but I’d have to say it’s a good assessment. I like solving puzzles.” His look told her she was one, and he meant to appease his curiosity.

“I’m not a puzzle to be solved, Jason.”

“Oh? Then what are you?”

“I’m a mess. And I’d really like another evening where I don’t have to think about anything. It’s the only reason I’m here.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! It is,” she said a little too urgently, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

Her attention moved to the winch near her hand, and she studied it intently. Wouldn’t do to let him catch a glimpse of what might show in her eyes—the other reason she was here. She liked his company . . . too much.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“What question?”

“You’re evading,” he teased. “You know damn well I’m asking about your relationship with your sister.”

“I’m not evading anything.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Some things I simply don’t want to discuss, and Crystal is one of them.”

“It might make you feel better.” When Claire flashed her best glacial glare that said no way, he only laughed. “Trust me. It will help.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, it will. Now, stop evading and talk.”

“You’re relentless. Do you ever give up?”

“Never. It’s why I make such a good defense attorney. So you might as well tell me.”

“I still don’t get why you’re so interested.”

She watched him closely as he lounged, extending an arm along the top of a cushion. The careless tilt of his hand hanging over the edge gave a misleading impression. She was reminded of a sleek cat, one that seemed relaxed, but could spring into action at a second’s notice.

“I told you. Curiosity. I’ve never known twins before. I always thought they had some kind of unbreakable bond or something. What do they call it?”

“The invisible umbilical cord.”

“So, how come you two don’t share it?”

She knew she shouldn’t succumb to that engaging smile, but somehow she couldn’t help herself. Gazing into intense blue eyes—eyes that missed nothing and seemed so understanding—she felt compelled to tell him about her twin.

“We used to.” Claire remembered a time when she and her sister had been inseparable, much like the twins Jason described. “When Crystal and I were younger, we’d reverse roles, try and confuse people simply because we could.”

She smiled. It had been one of their favorite games. The image inside her mind’s eye was so sharp, it was as if it they’d done it yesterday. Other memories surfaced as well of how close they’d been at one time.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. We just started changing. Drifting apart.” She sighed. “The final thread broke when I caught Crystal and Carl in a passionate embrace on my wedding day, before we left for our honeymoon. I’d gone to change and when I came back into the room, there they were.”

“Ah. Now I see why my curiosity drew fire. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had three years to get over it.”

What she didn’t add and didn’t want Jason to know was that Crystal eventually did sleep with her husband. But the act hadn’t hurt as much as Crystal’s behavior on her wedding day.

“That would be enough to cut any cord.”

“Carl told me he thought Crystal was me,” she said, wondering if the reason she felt she had to explain had something to do with those sympathetic indigo eyes holding hers captive for too long.

She broke the connection and let her gaze wander to the west again. “Of course, Crystal denied this. Said Carl came on to her and pretended he was kissing me. And when she set him straight, he still pursued her. She said she was just about to knee him in the groin when I walked in and found them.”

“But you didn’t believe her.”

“No.” She grimaced. “You’ve met her. She’s always been wild, and believe me, she’s toned it down in the past few years.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Claire asked after he’d remained silent for too long.

“What if she were telling the truth?”

“She wasn’t.”

“So she’s always done that?” When Claire’s eyebrows slanted in confusion, he added, “Pretend to be you, then kiss the men you care about?”

“No. That was a first for her.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure it was only because circumstances didn’t allow it. We tended to run in different crowds during high school, and by college, we’d gone our separate ways. She’s always been as bold as brass, and has always gotten attention by being that way.”

“Bold does describe Crystal,” he agreed with a grin. Then his demeanor turned serious. “But I also know she’s not one to hide behind lies.”

“She was lying.”

“Why would she? Where’s her motivation?”

“God only knows why Crystal does anything.”

“I do.”

Her spine stiffened. “You honestly think you’ve known her long enough to figure her out?”

Jason nodded and said in the same heated tone, “Yeah. I do.”

“No one understands her like me.” She shook her head. “I’ve had thirty-two years to learn how she operates.”

“I know this much—Crystal goes for the shock effect. If her actions were meant to hurt you, she’d flaunt the fact by owning up to it.” When Claire’s annoyance flared and she was about to disagree, he added in a louder voice, “It’s my job, Claire. I size people up based on gut instinct, looking for truth in what they say. And I’m damn good at it.”

“Your point?”

“My point is, what if she told the truth?”

“No. I can’t believe that.” Doubts swirled inside Claire’s mind, and she didn’t like them one bit. “Let’s talk about something else!”

“Okay. I’ve never slept with Crystal Grayson.”

Her gaze flew to his. “I see you’re going for a little shock effect of your own.”

A genuine smile crossed her face. She didn’t bother trying to understand why her heart soared at his revelation, or why the news took away the sting of Crystal’s betrayal. She’d think about both later.

“Now I’m the one looking for motivation,” she said. “I thought that was none of my business. So, why’d you tell me?”

“You know why.”

Oh God. She swallowed hard and glanced away to keep from responding to the attraction that flared to life between them.

“No.” She focused on her feet, too embarrassed to look at him again. She prayed the heat stealing up her face wasn’t a blush as she heard first a soft chuckle and then total silence.

“Honesty, Claire. That’s all I ask,” he said, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her head so she could see his serious expression. “Do you understand?”

Jason held her gaze for what seemed like hours, when in reality only seconds passed. Her breath caught in her throat, trapped by the connection she felt with him. Something transpired between them in those few seconds, and she knew she’d never be the same again.

Slowly she nodded, and then breathed a sigh of relief when he let go of her chin and released her gaze.

He chuckled and indicated the front of the boat with a nod. “It’s time to come about. Go and work the jib.”

Claire quickly jumped up to do his bidding, happy he was dropping the topic, yet wishing she wasn’t stuck in the middle of the ocean on a beautiful evening with this intriguing man who found her so amusing.

Carl Carter had never held that kind of power. That fact alone was enough to scare the hell out of her.

Chapter 10

“You son of a bitch!”

“What?” Carl stepped back when the woman shoved past him, her face alive with fury, contrasting so sharply with her glorious red hair. “I’m following your orders.”

“No, you’re not. You were supposed to wait before touching anything.”

“Oh, that. I changed the timing.”

“You changed the timing?” She glared at him with her hands hooked on her hips, as her eyes became glacial slits.

“I did. I got tired of waiting, so I came up with my own plan.”

“God. You are one stupid bastard.” She paced the length of the room, stopped, and threw up her hands. “How could you even think of forging Claire’s name?”

He grabbed for her, but she was quicker and stepped out of his reach, shaking her head. “This can’t be solved with sex.”

He laughed. “Everything can be solved with sex,” he murmured as he walked toward her with intent. “You know you want it.”

She chewed on her lip, cautiously eyeing him as he moved closer. Finally, she backed up until the wall effectively halted her withdrawal. She watched through half-lidded eyes as his lips descended over hers.

Their mating was fast and furious. When the passion was spent, she positioned her head on his shoulder. He lay with his eyes closed, feeling as satisfied as a tiger after a kill.

She sighed and drew figure eights through the thick mat of hair on his chest.

“Why did you change plans, Carl?”

“I told you. I got tired of waiting. Besides, I needed money to pay a gambling debt.”

“You had to have done this weeks ago. You couldn’t wait to give my plan a try?”

“I needed to take action sooner.”

“Everything wouldn’t be unraveling if you hadn’t been so careless,” she snapped as she slapped him on the arm.

He laughed and kissed her hard. “I love it when you do that.”

“Be serious. We’ve got problems.”

“I am serious. Here’s the deal, sweetheart. The way I see it, you have no choice but to accept it.”

“Did you know that Hennessey’s loan isn’t going through and needs to be redone?” The smile she offered didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ah, I see you just figured out there’s a big glitch to your brilliant plan. I’ve often wondered how Claire put up with you for so long.”

“It’s no secret. Same reason you’re lying there.” His heated gaze raked up and down her body, stopping at certain points along the way to emphasize his statement. “Would you care for another demonstration?”

“Stop that.” She pushed his face to the side. “Sex isn’t going to solve this. We need to come up with something else.”

He burst out laughing. “You’re one tenacious bitch. You never let up, do you?”

“I’m not giving this up. We’ll have to figure out a way to use your actions as motivation. Your stupidity will not ruin my chance to have what I’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t need you.” He shook his head and another chuckle escaped his mouth. “I don’t need either one of you.”

“Yes, you do. I’d listen if I were you, because you can’t go back to the way it was. Claire’s on the warpath. She’s bent on destroying you.”

“You’re bluffing. Claire’s always been easy to handle. She buys all my excuses.”

“Not this time. You need me,” she said, stabbing her finger into his chest. “There’s something about a woman scorned once too often you’ll soon learn. You’ve gone too far this time, and given her too much motivation. Claire’s not going to care that she destroys the company if she gets the opportunity to destroy you in the process.” She caught his gaze, her expression serious. “You blew it with the loan, Carl.”

“Oh?” The back of his hand started a slow descent down her arm before slowly moving back up again. “First things first. You can yell at me later.”

“You’re pathetic.” She shook her head and let out a quick bark of a laugh. Her laughter was cut off as his lips descended over hers.

Chapter 11

Jason’s amusement over Claire’s diligence at maintaining her distance increased. In the close quarters of the sailboat, the feat was nearly impossible to achieve, made more difficult because he wasn’t about to be ignored.

The sun had long disappeared by the time they sailed into the marina. Once Jason docked the boat and secured the lines, he opened a bottle of wine. After handing a glass to Claire, he took his and started below to prepare their meal. The hors d’oeuvres had curbed starvation, but he was definitely ready for something heartier. The thought of the steaks he had marinating made his stomach growl.

As he watched her approach, his thoughts shifted. Though identical twins, the woman was as different from Crystal Grayson as night was from day. The contrast intrigued him.

“Is this part of your strategy?” Claire asked, coming to stand in front of him. “Get me drunk so I’ll fall under your spell?”

“Huh?” He slanted a glance her way and noted her teasing expression. He held her gaze while taking a drink, and then flashed a quick smile. “Uh, no. It’s an interesting suggestion, but to tell you the truth, it’s not my style.”

He resumed chopping vegetables on the small cutting board. “I’m a wine drinker and assume everyone is. Like sailing, I guess. I forget there are people who get seasick, just as I forget there are those who don’t drink.”

“So I’m safe from your ploys, then.”

“For the time being.” He brought the wineglass to his lips for another sip and snared her gaze again. “When we make love, I don’t want you drunk.”

“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” she said with a nervous laugh. “Saying when rather than if?”

“Is it?” He smiled inwardly at the slight flush of color stealing up her face. His groin tightened in response, and he ignored the signal.

Her eyes flashed something he didn’t recognize, but one thing he did know. Claire wasn’t immune to him any more than he was immune to her. The only detail holding him back was her situation. He wasn’t one to take advantage of emotional trauma. She had enough to deal with, without his making things worse by adding more conflict.

“I could get used to this.” She lifted her glass, not rising to his little taunt.

When she leaned against the table watching him, he tried to ignore the way her blouse pulled across her chest, accentuating her breasts.

“It’s good. What is it?”

His attention traveled from her chest to her face.

“An aged petite sirah. And for your information, that’s not just good, it’s damn good.”

“Oh?”

“Can’t you taste it?” he asked, pushing away thoughts of undoing that blouse and seeing what was underneath.

Carl Carter didn’t deserve her. But she was still married to the bastard, and from what he’d observed, still in denial. Patience—that was all he needed. He’d bide his time until the inevitable happened.

Sighing, he refocused on preparing dinner. “Most wines are consumed too young, so you don’t get the full effect.”

“What was I drinking last night? It was different, but I still enjoyed it.”

“You noticed that, did you?” When she nodded, he smiled. “You have potential. I’ll make a wine drinker out of you yet.”

She laughed. “You’re a wine connoisseur?”

“No, but I am picky. I do like wines that have the complexities of age. The wine we drank last night was an imported red table wine. Sophia and Antonio have connections with several Italian vintners.”

He opened a drawer full of silverware and nodded. “Here. Make yourself useful and go set the table. We’ll eat on deck. The steaks are ready to grill.”

• • •

Though the sky was clear, the balmy night added to the romantic atmosphere. A slight breeze blew, causing a gentle rocking of the boat—one that lulled rather than agitated.

“It’s late. I really should be getting home.”

“I guess.” Jason sighed. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed an evening so much.”

He tried not to let Claire’s smile affect him. He hadn’t bothered lighting a lantern. The full moon emitted enough illumination to see her expression so clearly in the moonlight.

He never should have had that last glass of wine. The mellow effect wasn’t aiding his efforts to resist the lady sitting across from him. Thoughts of laying her down and smothering her with kisses kept roaming through his head, especially when he’d look up at some comment she made and see a spark of connection in her eyes. The feeling was surreal, but Claire was right. It was time to leave before he ended up doing something he’d regret.

“Come on.” He rose. “Help me close up the boat and I’ll get you home.”

In minutes, they were ready to leave. Both shot for the dock at the same time, bumping into each other in the confined space. She laughed, appearing nervous and unsure of herself as she backed up a step.

“I don’t scare you, do I?” He placed steadying hands on her shoulders.

“No,” she said too quickly, and glanced down.

“No?” A chuckle burst forth. “Not even a little bit?”

His playful comment drew her attention. She eyed him warily as her tongue took a journey over her lips. His eyes followed the movement with total absorption. He couldn’t look away. When she bit her bottom lip in consternation, a signal flashed to his groin, one that his mellow brain fought to ignore. Only his stirring awareness was winning, pushing common sense and all resistance aside.

“I must be doing something wrong then. Usually, I intimidate the hell out of people,” he teased.

Presenting a lopsided grin, he leaned against the railing in a deceptive manner and held out his hand expectantly. His entire body was primed and ready to strike, much like a snake, waiting for the exact moment in order to inflict the most damage.

Indecision flickered in Claire’s gaze. He watched a mental battle ensue before she moved cautiously toward him and took his offered hand.

He quickly forgot his resolve to bide his time. Her warm smile tugged at him, and he couldn’t stop himself from reacting.

The next moment, she was in his arms and his lips were melding with hers, kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough. He inhaled her essence as his tongue explored.

“God, you taste so good,” he murmured after endless minutes of sheer bliss, trailing kisses from those gorgeous lips to her ear. He took a nip before whispering, “I’ve been wondering all night what it would be like, and reality is so much nicer than conjecture.”

He went back to nibbling on her ear before working his way to her lips again, plundering further, giving her no chance to withdraw as he felt her doing. He smiled inwardly when he felt her surrender, when she opened herself to him and wrapped her hands around his neck to pull him closer.

The woman was intoxicating. He should have never touched her, because now he was fighting to stop. He wanted far more than kisses.

Finally, he pulled back, breathing heavily and fully aroused. Her stormy green eyes were filled with the same emotions that ran through his system. Desire laced with torment.

“I can’t do this.”

A twinge of regret nestled in the pit of his stomach at the soft sound of pain in her voice.

“Shhh,” he said soothingly as he kissed her cheek. “I know.”

“I’m a married woman,” she said in an anguished voice, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Her turbulent expression hadn’t softened when she whispered, “If you did, you’d know this is not about him.”

He sighed and pulled her closer to kiss the side of her head. “Shush. I do understand.” In an effort to soothe her, he gently rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Again, she didn’t seem to hear him. “It’s because of me. I can’t do this because of me.”

He felt her head move and he glanced down into those beautifully shaped sad eyes.

Another wave of regret washed over him at the pain in her voice as she said, “How could I be thinking of doing something like this when I know how it feels to be on the other side?”

What could he say to that? She wasn’t over the cheating bastard, and nothing could happen between them until she was.

“I’m sorry, Claire. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

They walked to the car in silence. The headlights flashed twice after he hit the keyless entry. Claire stood without saying anything, and waited for him to open the door. When he did, she put a hand on his arm. He felt the gentle touch all the way to his soul.

“Thank you,” she whispered before standing on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. Then she quickly slipped inside the Mercedes as if not trusting herself to refrain from going further, or maybe it was him she didn’t trust.

Whatever it was, her actions threw him.

Chapter 12

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Crystal Grayson heard the drawl and her back stiffened. Smoothing her features to show no emotion, she stopped her forward momentum and turned toward the voice.

“Jimbo.” She should have expected him to be lurking around the Ocean View since he was most likely still working for Jason.

Holding on to her fake smile, she acknowledged him with a slight nod and watched the tall, lanky, good-looking man saunter in her direction from the hotel lobby. She fought to ignore the feeling she got every time the guy stepped within ten feet of her. Jim O’Malley had the uncanny ability to make her feel as if he could see inside her, and Crystal had spent a lifetime working on ways to keep others from doing just that.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she purred, holding his amused brown gaze.

He would have to look like some renegade cowboy, all sexy and scruffy as if he’d just stepped off a billboard advertising men’s cologne. She pushed away the twinge of awareness that spread through her at the way his jeans hugged his rugged frame like a second skin.

“My thinking exactly, sweetheart.” His gait slowed until he stood in front of her, too close for comfort, invading her space.

The grin he flashed was quick while his eyes scanned the length of her, ending at her face. Another surge of excitement rushed through her system. Jimbo spoke in a soft, lazy drawl that rolled over her ears. The sound seduced her with its simplicity, always making her think he didn’t waste energy on unimportant things like words or voice inflection.

“How about a drink for old times’ sake?”

She started to shake her head, but the denial stuck in her throat when she caught the challenge in his expression. Instead, she threw her shoulders back and jutted out her chin.

“Sure. I’ve got a few minutes to spare for old times’ sake.”

He chuckled.

Even his laugh sounded sexy. Having a drink with him might not be such a great idea, she decided as Jimbo nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her toward the hotel’s bar.

While walking next to him, she struggled to ignore the sensations his presence caused. His hand barely touched her slacks, but she felt the connection as if a current ran from fingers to waist.

In the bar, she quickly sat on the stool he pulled out and exhaled a relieved breath when he grabbed a stool across from her. The small table worked wonders for adding the distance needed to still the crazy thoughts his nearness incited. Neither the man nor his languid Southern ways would affect her now.

“I’ll have bourbon on the rocks,” she stated in a cool voice to the cocktail waitress who put paper napkins in front of her.

“Same here,” came Jimbo’s amused drawl.

“I see you’ve been busy,” he said as the waitress scurried off.

Crystal shot him a curious glance.

He gave her his lazy smile, reminding her of why she found him so sexy. His lovemaking was as lazy and unhurried as the rest of him, and she swallowed hard at the memory of the last time he’d worked those slow hands over her. Too bad the guy made her uncomfortable, because he was delicious in bed. Since sex with Jimbo wasn’t in her best interest, she pushed away thoughts of doing sheet sprints with him.

“That’s nothing new. I’m always busy.”

“True, true,” he said. “But I was referring to your sexual exploits.”

“Spying on me, Jimbo?”

“No, darlin’. Working.”

“I see.” Crystal turned down the temperature on her smile.

“I’ll bet you do. Didn’t know you had a twin.” He turned to the waitress, who was placing drinks in front of them. “Thanks.”

“I thought Claire fired Jason.” Crystal took a sip of her drink, observing him through a narrow-eyed gaze.

“Maybe. But Jason told me to keep digging, and I hit some interesting shit.”

“Oh?”

“You’re incredible.” He brought the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. “You can sit there staring me straight in the eye without flinching and say oh, like it’s nothing? I’m amazed.”

“Think what you want.” Ignoring his taunt, she sipped her drink without breaking eye contact. “You always have.”

“I go by evidence and what I learn from ferreting out facts.” His face contorted in disgust. “Tell me you’re not having an affair with Carl Carter.”

“I must be, if that’s what the evidence points to,” she said, goading him. “I have to hand it to you, Jimbo. You do have a knack for ferreting out facts.”

Crystal finished her drink in one swallow and slammed the glass on the table before sliding off the bar stool in an easy move.

“Thanks for the drink. This really did feel like old times.”

She strode briskly away.

Chapter 13

Adrenaline pumped through the woman’s veins as she paced the boat, back and forth and back and forth.

She couldn’t still the nervous energy surging inside her system, so she shook her hands and used them to lift her thick hair off her clammy, sticky shoulders. Airflow had all but stopped except for the slight breeze stirred by the movement of the sailboat cutting through the calm water.

The hour was late, but even without the sun, moisture hung in the air and added to the cloying heat of the night. Sweat seeped from her pores and pooled into droplets before finally dripping off her chin to soak into already damp clothes. She was beyond hot. Hell might be cooler.

Halting in mid-step, she moved to take the helm and shut down the autopilot. She continually wiped her hands on her shorts to keep them dry enough for gripping the wheel.

Once docked, she’d be home free. It had been so easy. She’d get away with murder. Who knew killing provided such a rush?

Then her thoughts turned to Carl. She should have known better than to trust that lying, cheating scumbag. The bastard got his in the end, though—paid with his life. She almost wished he were still alive so she could kill him again for his treachery.

So he’d thought he could get away with changing plans in midstream and then charm her into easy submission? Ha! He’d underestimated her. Such a stupid, vain man. Always did think too highly of his sexual prowess. He’d even thought he could dismiss her from his life so effortlessly and go back to her. Carl’s precious Claire, so naive and trusting.

Well, he’d soon found out differently, and so would Claire. No one dismisses me.

She laughed. The sound came out in a brittle bark.

Intense hatred filled her as she thought of her nemesis. Poor, sweet Claire, who always got all the attention by being so soft and angelic, would soon feel her wrath. All she had to do was watch from the sidelines and add some sympathy.

Let things play out. That was all. And if they didn’t, she only had to give them a nudge in the right direction. She’d planned this for too long to let sentiment get in the way now.

Her new plan would work.

Chapter 14

“Hey, Roberts—you busy?”

“Trying to catch up. Why?” Jason smiled, recognizing Jimbo’s drawl on the phone on Friday morning, three days after his sail with Claire. He’d been swamped and had been meaning to give his friend a call to see if he’d unearthed anything in the mystery of the missing spouse.

“Been busy too. Don’t think you’re going to like what I’ve uncovered, though.”

“About the absent husband?”

Jason swiveled his chair to look out over the water. He purposely hadn’t told Jimbo of Claire’s dismissal. He wanted the investigator to continue with his digging, mainly out of curiosity. This phone call meant one thing. Jimbo had hit pay dirt.

“Yeah, I pretty much finished my report on Carter. I meant to call last night, but got sidetracked with another job.”

“Okay. I’m all ears.”

“Not over the phone. In person, so let’s go to lunch.”

“It’s a little early for lunch.” Jason glanced at his watch. It was only ten a.m.

“Not that early, and this is worth it. I’ll drive. Meet you in ten, downstairs.”

“All right.” He sighed. “But this better be good.”

“It is.”

• • •

“Where is she, Amy?” Jason’s abrupt voice cut through the air as he stalked up to Claire’s assistant’s desk after noting the nameplate.

Clearly startled, a baffled expression crossed Amy’s face.

“What?” she said. “Who?”

“Claire Carter.”

“She’s not here.” Her back stiffened and her expression closed. “If you’d care to leave a name and number, I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

Jason leaned forward on the desk and said in a menacing tone, “Skip the message. I’ll deliver it myself. Just tell me where she is.”

“Look, buddy—”

“Jason Roberts. And I expect an answer. Now.”

Amy definitely took notice of his name while chewing on her bottom lip and eyeing him as if contemplating her next move. Finally, she heaved an exaggerated sigh.

“She’s at home, but you may miss her because she’s planning on going to the marina. She took the afternoon off to clean her boat.”

“Thanks.” He turned and headed for the elevator.

Jason didn’t remember much about the drive to Claire’s house, situated on the Intracoastal Waterway south of Boca Raton and north of Fort Lauderdale, nor did he take the time to notice the lush, manicured surroundings as he jumped out of his car and strode up to her door.

“What the hell’s going on?” he said as he pushed past her when she answered the door. “You couldn’t be bothered with at least giving me a courtesy call?”

“What?”

Damn. The woman’s surprise was genuine, making him realize she was twice as cunning as Crystal. Her innocent expression sent his blood pressure spiking as he strode into the immaculate house.

“I received an interesting call today. My investigator gave me an update.”

He stifled an urge to hit something as he paced the length of her living room, not seeing the furnishings in front of him that could grace the pages of any decorating magazine. His voice held none of the fury he was feeling, his words flowing out in a deceptively controlled, low tone.

“Would you like to take a gander at what the update said?”

“I don’t have a clue.” Claire pivoted away from him to finish packing a small bag resting next to a bucket filled with cleaning supplies. “Besides, I fired you, remember? I’m rather busy right now, so can we have this conversation another day?”

“I don’t believe this.” He shook his head and walked over to the wall of windows, where he stood staring out at the water before he spun around. “Carl Carter was alive and well two days ago. And guess who was seen going into his room at the Ocean View Resort?”

Jason studied her, looking for a reaction. Except for the stiffening of her back, there was none. She continued packing without meeting his gaze. Once done, she headed into the kitchen.

He followed. “Why didn’t you tell me you saw him?” he shouted when she ignored him as if he weren’t there.

His question stopped her in mid-stride.

“So?” Her chin inched upward as Claire glared at him with stormy green eyes. “I can’t believe you’re upset because I didn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t think this information might interest me?”

“What difference does it make when he’s alive and I told you to stop looking for him?”

She moved to open the freezer, pulled out the ice bin, and took it over to a cooler sitting on the floor. As she emptied the ice into the cooler, she said, “It’s no longer your problem.”

“I thought the other night meant something. I thought we were friends.”

“Carl has nothing to do with our friendship. I found out where he was staying, and I confronted him.” She turned to place the bin back and closed the freezer door. “I’ve decided to file for divorce.”

This news floored him. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Shit! This couldn’t be happening. Jason raked a hand through his hair in an effort to still the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and twist for not telling him that little detail either. He stared at her for a long moment. When she ignored his question, he asked one more, hoping to rattle her.

“Did you know Carl also had another visitor?”

Claire continued putting items in the cooler as if he hadn’t spoken.

“One who just happened to be your sister,” he yelled, incensed with her actions.

Jimbo had learned that Carl Carter was holed up a room at the Ocean View, and the PI had staked it out. In the course of two hours on Wednesday afternoon, two women had paid him visits—Claire Carter and Crystal Grayson.

“Crystal?”

“Don’t bullshit me. You knew damn well he was seeing her.”

That was also part of O’Malley’s report. He’d uncovered evidence of an affair with Claire’s sister, as well as evidence that Claire had known about it. The room at the resort had been reserved and paid for with a credit card in Claire’s name. The clerk behind the counter identified Claire’s picture as the woman who registered for the room. Since Claire probably didn’t reserve the room, Crystal was the only one who could have.

Claire shook her head. Jason wasn’t sure the glimpse of pain was real or imagined, yet he wasn’t about to let it keep him from getting what he came for—answers.

“I appreciate all your help in this, but I don’t want it,” she stated abruptly. Her movements became clipped, and irritation flitted over her face. “Your services are no longer required. I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear the other night. Just send me a bill.”

She continued loading the cooler. When it was full, she picked it up and added while walking past him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

Jason stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her path. She stopped and set the cooler down.

“What about us?”

“Us?” She snorted. “Jason, there is no us.”

“You’re going to tell me Tuesday evening didn’t mean anything?”

“That was a mistake. One that won’t be happening again.”

“A mistake?” He wiped his face with his hand, letting his fingers settle on the back of his neck. He met her gaze, refusing to believe what she was saying.

“Jason, I—”

“Don’t,” he threatened in a growl. “Don’t demean it by pretending you didn’t feel anything. I was there.” As he held her gaze, something flickered in her eyes before her expression closed again. He shook his head in disgust and said in a louder voice, “You didn’t think to tell me you’d decided to divorce him?”

“You couldn’t figure that out on your own? Didn’t your friend’s report give you a clear idea of what a lowlife Carl is? You think I’d be so stupid to stay with him after what he put me through?” she shouted, matching him in volume. “I wish he had died. It would save me the trouble of divorcing him. Now, please move,” she demanded, and bent over to pick up the cooler. “I’ve got a bloody boat to clean.”

Of all the words he was expecting to come out of her mouth, those were a mile from them. He planted a foot on the cooler, effectively keeping her from lifting it.

“I deserve the courtesy of an explanation,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Again she eyed him, chewing on her bottom lip as indecision wavered in those beautiful eyes.

“I owe you nothing but money,” she said a moment later. She pushed his leg aside and picked up the cooler. “Like I said, bill me and you’ll get paid.”

“Bullshit. There’s more going on here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“Will you please get out of my way?”

She tried to shove past him but he stopped her, putting his hands over hers to take the heavy cooler. “I’m going with you.”

She glared at him as a battle of wills ensued. Finally, she let go and maneuvered around him.

“Suit yourself.” Hefting her packed bag and cleaning supplies, she led him toward the garage.

He could tell from her resolute expression she wasn’t about to give him any easy answers. Fine. If Claire Carter thought she could dismiss him so readily, she was in for an epiphany.

When she flicked her keyless entry, the trunk lid shot up. He dropped the cooler inside and turned around, taking her bag with one hand and snatching her keys with the other.

“I’ll drive.” He shut the trunk and opened the passenger door. He waited for her to climb inside, having no doubts about being a dead man if the daggers of annoyance she sent him were actual darts.

Staring into those deep, dark pools of green now, they reminded him of evergreens on a cloudy day. He sighed, holding on to his anger to keep from saying something he’d regret. He slammed the door once she was seated and went around to the other side before getting into the Lexus SUV. He then started the engine, pushed the button to the garage door, and backed out after it opened.

Minutes later, they were headed south on I-95 toward Miami and Key Largo, where Claire docked Solitude.

Chapter 15

“Do I get the silent treatment the entire drive?” he asked.

Claire aimed a wary glance in Jason’s direction and noticed the way his mouth curved down at the edges. She could still feel anger pouring out in his stiff posture.

“What’s there to say?” she asked, shrugging. “Seems you know it all.”

“How about letting me in on what’s been going on?”

His intense sapphire gaze snared hers for the briefest moment, flashing something she didn’t expect. That couldn’t be hurt she spotted before he banked the look and turned away. She certainly hadn’t thought his feelings could be bruised so easily.

“Nothing’s going on.” She leaned back against the headrest before closing her eyes and sighing, unsure of what to do next.

Jason seemed upset because she hadn’t confided in him. Yet how could she? She hadn’t felt comfortable confiding in anyone about how stupid she’d been. Believing Carl’s lies. Finding out where he was staying, as well as being confronted with a few facts of more infidelity was more than enough fuel to add to her anger, and certainly not something she could share with Jason. The man already knew too much about her.

“You might as well tell me, Claire, because I’m not going away,” he said moments later, drawing her attention back to him. “I’m on your side, remember?”

Sincerity spilled out of his searching, compelling gaze, triggering tears. “Why do you care?” she asked, blinking them back and refocusing on the passing scenery.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

She inhaled deeply. Warmth infused her at his heartfelt words while his gentle tone eased some of the pain from being taken in by Carl Carter one more time.

She remained silent, thinking. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she eventually said, the sound of her soft voice breaking the quiet.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“All talking will do is remind me how stupid I was.”

He hesitated, and his expression changed to one of concern. “You aren’t responsible for his actions.”

“Maybe not. I’ve known for a long time Carl wasn’t the perfect husband. I can handle imperfection. It’s the lies and cheating that have taken their toll.”

When a look of surprise touched his eyes, she smiled. “I suspected, but I never had proof.”

In all honesty, she’d never wanted proof, didn’t want to face proof, so she’d wrapped herself in work and pretended things were better than they really were. Except, she couldn’t admit that to Jason.

“Carl always had an excuse, and I wanted to believe him. He’d always charm his way out until I started doubting myself.”

She sighed, thinking of all those things Carl had done in the past few months to charm and cajole her into believing he’d changed. As the memories played, she shut her eyes tightly to block out the pain of her stupidity. How could she have been so gullible? Why had she put up with him for so long?

She opened her eyes and turned to Jason, offering a rueful smile. “I was too trusting.”

Jason’s gaze raked over her face in a scrutinizing manner. She detected only understanding in those softening features, which gave her enough encouragement to continue.

“I didn’t know until a few days ago that his lying was much more extensive than I’d imagined. Of course, drugging me and leaving me on the boat with all that blood didn’t endear him to me.”

Neither had trying to abscond with the loan money or all their investments, she thought, not mentioning that fact out loud. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to take half of what she’d built while waiting for his parents to die. The lying low-life thought he deserved it all.

“I found some charge card receipts bunched into a drawer, and after a little research, I figured out where he was staying. Seems he’d been frequenting the same place for quite a while, using a company card. I’m sure your investigator found the same information. On Wednesday morning, I drove to the hotel. Imagine my surprise when the clerk gave me a key to his room without much hassle. I knew Crystal was involved then, but I only smiled, pretending to be her, and acted as if I’d been there before. It was all so easy. Then I confronted the bastard.”

She stopped talking and stared out the window. Listening to her own story as it came out made her feel pretty miserable. She couldn’t believe she’d actually been taken in one last time.

“It’s not your fault.” Jason’s tone held sincerity and warmth.

She looked at him. His eyes were on the road ahead, but there was something else in his voice, empathy maybe, as if he understood exactly how she felt.

“Don’t feel bad about wanting to believe in your spouse,” he said. “That’s a good thing.”

“I feel so stupid.”

“You trusted him. Marriage needs trust or it can’t survive.”

“It also needs fidelity, which I never had.” She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night.”

Glancing at her, Jason quirked an eyebrow and waited.

Claire smiled. “I think you were right about Crystal.” Her smile died, and her gaze returned to the window while she stared at nothing in particular for several minutes. She sighed. “He probably did know it was her. I was such a fool to believe him over my twin.”

She leaned against the headrest again and closed her eyes. More pain shot through her system. Her marriage had been a sham from the first day. He’d barely waited a few hours before hitting on her sister.

“Maybe not,” he said. “There’s definitely something going on between them now. So I could be wrong.”

“You aren’t wrong. You’re looking at it objectively. That incident cost me my sister. I believed Carl over her, and now I realize it was my actions, not Crystal’s, that put the final wedge between us.”

Claire heaved another heavy sigh and slanted a glance at Jason, who still focused on the road. For three years she’d defended the bastard. Well, no more.

“Crystal came to me a few months ago and asked me if I’d had enough.”

When she said no more, he threw her a questioning look. “And?” he prompted.

Claire snorted. “Said she was going to help me get out of my marriage and keep my company intact at the same time. I declined her kind offer and tried to work things out with Carl.”

She then spent a few minutes telling him about the document she’d signed, sealing her fate.

“I hate knowing that part of my not wanting to make waves was because I didn’t want a divorce to affect the company. Now I see I was settling.”

Claire couldn’t stomach the idea that her company, the one she’d babied from infancy, would no longer be hers. Her sweat, her blood, and her tears had built the business, now worth tens of millions.

Carl Carter wanted full ownership. That had always been his price for divorce. After all, he’d put up the money for the major growth, so he felt entitled. He’d overlooked that he’d spent more than ten times the amount he’d provided on his toys and women over the last three years without adding anything else, and also overlooked her role in the success of that growth.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands, studying her fingernails for a moment before whispering, “Isn’t that sad,” referring to how she’d settled.

It was more than sad. She’d let Carl manipulate her. Perception was everything to her husband, as he was so fond of telling her. Being perceived as a successful businessman with a beautiful wife was something money couldn’t buy. Why should he settle for half, when he had it all? And she’d given it to him without requiring anything in return.

Claire sighed, wondering why she’d divulged so much information, and also wondering how her life had gotten so screwed up. And now she was fighting an attraction to Jason. An attraction she had no intention of acting on because she had no idea of where she was going. Getting involved with him wouldn’t solve any problems, but could only make things worse. Although, at this point she didn’t see how her life could get any worse.

Everything had bottomed out two days ago when she told Carl she changed the locks on the house and to let her know where she could send his belongings.

She smiled wanly and sneaked another peek at Jason. He stared straight ahead, no longer allowing her to read anything in his expression. Inhaling a deep breath, Claire leaned deeper into the seat cushion. Maybe there was something to be said for confession being good for the soul, as at that moment her problems seemed lighter.

“It’s been a long week,” she said. “I don’t want to think about Carl or my situation any longer. Let’s talk about something else.”

“You okay?” Jason shot her a concerned look. “Have you eaten anything today?”

Claire laughed. For the first time in days, she felt almost giddy. She pushed out the thought of how the last time she’d felt this way, she’d been with Jason. She should keep her distance from the man, especially since she liked being with him, too much. Yet she couldn’t help herself. She was tired of feeling sad, tired of thinking about how messed up her life was, and most of all, she was tired of dwelling on Carl.

What would Crystal do in this situation? She mentally snorted. That wasn’t hard to figure out. Her twin would probably push for a night of meaningless sex. The thought brought her up short. Maybe that was just what she needed.

She eyed Jason speculatively. The idea certainly had possibilities. In fact, the more she thought about it, the better she liked it, because she was really tired of being the nice twin.

“This time I’ll feed you.” Her smile broadened. “I packed food in the cooler.”

Chapter 16

After parking in the marina lot, Jason quickly unloaded the car, handing Claire her bag and the cleaning supplies. Then he grabbed the cooler and followed her to the boat slip.

As Claire went about the task of filling buckets with soap and water, he noted her mood had improved. Unanswered questions filled his brain. The lady was hardly forthcoming, yet he understood she was walking a tightrope over a field of emotions right now. He could wait to satisfy his curiosity.

He took the bucket she handed him and got busy. He sprayed the dried substance from the deck with running water from the nozzle before scrubbing it, while she went below to clean the polished teak floor.

“That didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Claire said as she put away the supplies. “Want to take her out?”

Jason looked at his watch. Two thirty.

“If you have time.”

“Let me make a call to find out.” He stepped to the bow out of Claire’s earshot. Elise was dropping off the girls around six for his week.

“Okay, we’re on,” he said thirty seconds later as he tucked his phone into his pocket and walked toward her. “I can spare a few hours. Elise agreed to keep the girls longer.” God, she was gorgeous, he thought as he noted the warmth sweep over her face over his favorable answer. He grinned. “It’s my week.”

“Then a quick sail and early dinner. How’s that? I promised to feed you, remember?”

“Fine,” he murmured.

He loved seeing the way sunlight played off Claire’s hair. Under the rays, the lush tresses came alive with color, ranging from cinnamon to dark brown and everything in between. She’d tied it back. But uncooperative, unruly curls sprang free, framing her face with a few tendrils of auburn. He opened his hand and closed it, stilling an urge to run his fingers through the thick hair while he wondered what that coppery mane would look like draped over a pillow after making love.

A surge of raw lust shot through to his gut at the smile she flashed. He pushed the X-rated thoughts away and concentrated on helping her ready the boat. Sex wasn’t a good idea.

But his mind wouldn’t cooperate. Too many times over the course of their sail, his focus landed on her mouth. All he could do at that point was remember. Remember how he’d tasted those lips. And he was dying to taste them again.

Claire appeared to be doing everything in her power to incite his senses, he realized once she set a plate of food down and smiled. That provocative smile was what finally clued him in, set him back, and made him question her motives. Her smile definitely held the promise of something. Though leery of it, he couldn’t ignore it.

Still, she seemed unsure of herself. This strange dichotomy intrigued him the most. He eyed her warily and waited. What the hell was going on in her mind?

Watching her bite into a burger and lick at a dab of ketchup near her lips, desire flared. Blood surged through his veins and heat engulfed his groin. All five senses went on sexual alert. He tamped down an urge to ignore his brain’s warning as he struggled to eat his meal, not tasting anything but what he remembered of her lips. He was on edge, excited, on the verge of jumping off a precipice.

Jason could barely breathe. Not with her so near. And when he did manage to inhale, a delicate floral scent filled his nostrils, sending even more signals to his groin.

He worked to hide his thoughts behind the act of eating and shoved lust away, finishing the burger and salad in slow, easy bites.

All too soon, they came about, tacking back to the marina because the wind blew from the opposite direction.

When Claire reached to take his paper plate, his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm.

She looked up with astonishment, causing a smile to spread across his face as he pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck.

“Leave it. It’s not going anywhere,” he murmured softly, nibbling on her ear and shoving hands through that thick, lush hair. “I can think of better ways to spend the next few minutes than cleaning up.”

She surprised him by throwing her arms around him and doing some nuzzling of her own. The effect was like lighting a match to tinder as heat flared between them.

His groin hardened into a firm erection. His lips sought hers and weren’t gentle as they plummeted moist depths. Jason wanted her with a passion he hadn’t felt in over a decade, and he couldn’t slow down. For too long, simmering emotion had sat waiting to boil, and now burst out of his soul.

For endless moments, he kissed her, using his mouth and tongue to transport her to the fevered point he’d already surpassed. Claire responded so readily, moaning and rubbing against him. More blood raced through his veins. He was close to losing control; the siren in his arms affected him too much. He had to slow down, or it would be over before it began.

When her hands reached for his erect penis, stroking the taut fabric of his fly, warning bells went off. His brain revisited the question of her motives. Something didn’t seem right. She was too eager and bold . . . too unlike the woman he’d kissed the other night. The thought was enough to cool his ardor to gain him some restraint. His lips broke contact, and he grabbed her wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, breathing heavily with his lips barely an inch from hers as he stared into her passion-filled jade eyes.

“Jason, if you don’t know, then I think we’re in trouble,” she purred, offering a throaty laugh as she trailed the other hand up and down his chest.

A bucket of ice water couldn’t be more jarring than her actions. Thank God they squelched the urge to take her fast and furious as he’d been dying to do only a moment ago.

He sat up and released her, eyeing the horizon.

“What’s wrong?” Straightening her clothing, Claire scooted away from him, seeming wary and hesitant all of a sudden.

“If I’d wanted only sex, I could’ve slept with Crystal,” he said, refocusing on her and meeting her gaze. The guilt spilling from her eyes meant he’d pegged the situation correctly. “Is that all this is? A quick screw?” He shook his head in disgust at the flush of embarrassment rising from her neck to her hair and added, “You’re more like her than I imagined.”

He stood and turned away, stilling the urge to kick something. The tension in his body tightened, and his mood turned savage. How had he been so wrong about her?

“I’m sorry.”

Her whispered voice shot through his ears. The sincerity in the two words drew his glance. She sat staring at the water while tears streamed down both sides of her face.

He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, unsure about what to do next.

Shit! This was definitely not one of his finest moments, nor was it hers.

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to respond to her tears, not to take her in his arms and comfort her. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could stop at just comfort. Desire for her still pounded in his blood, but sex wasn’t what either of them needed at this point.

Once he felt confident enough to meet her eyes again without giving in to what his body screamed for, he nodded and said softly, “It’s time to come about.”

Except for the occasional verbal command, the rest of the sail was made in silence, as was the drive back to Claire’s house.

When Jason pulled into the driveway and pushed the garage door opener, he stopped and waited until the door raised before driving the last few feet. He turned off the motor, and they sat in total silence with neither one making an effort to move.

He wiped his face with his hand before resting it on the back of his neck. Then he turned, saying, “Look Claire—” at the same time she said, “I’m so—”

His gaze flew to hers, and he offered an encouraging nod. “You go first.”

She smiled ruefully and took a big breath before nervously licking her lips. “I was just going to apologize.”

“You don’t need to apologize. We both got a little carried away.”

“I wasn’t acting much like a friend today, and I’m sorry, Jason. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” Claire broke off and focused on her hands, studying her fingernails. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know.” Jason sighed. He smiled and then looked at her, waiting until she met his gaze again. “You need time, and maybe even a quick screw.” Then his smile died and his expression hardened. “But don’t cheapen yourself and become like him. You’ll end up hating yourself if you do. I’m perfectly willing on the time part, but you should know I want more than sex. I’m tired of my life not having meaning.”

He reached for the door handle. “I’ll be in touch. Thanks for the sail.”

In minutes, Jason was in his car driving north, working to rid himself of the memory of Claire’s expression over his parting words. It had taken every bit of his willpower to walk calmly away and climb into his car when everything in his system shouted at him to stay and take her to bed.

But he simply wanted more than one night of passion.

Chapter 17

Jason was lounging in his king-sized bed the next morning, reading the morning paper with a cup of coffee, when Chloe and Amelia rushed in and started jumping on the bed. Seemed these girls never ran out of energy.

“What’re we going to do today, Daddy?” Chloe plopped down and curled into his side.

He chuckled. “Haven’t thought about it.”

He wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and dropped a kiss on her head before ruffling her hair. So much like her mother in looks, but so different in personality, he mused. Chloe’s fair complexion and green eyes came straight from Elise’s genes. Yet, Chloe had a softness Elise never had or had long outgrown.

“We could go sailing,” Amelia suggested as she moved to Jason’s other side, causing him to scoot with Chloe to the middle of the bed. “Please?” she begged, bestowing on him one of her sweet smiles.

“I could be persuaded to take a day off from working on the house,” he murmured as he gave her dark, almost black hair an affectionate tug. These days she only tolerated kisses from Dad at night.

Observing his daughters, one on either side, he marveled at how different they were. Amelia was growing into a beauty despite having his features and coloring, though hers were definitely a feminine version. She also had his outgoing personality. To think he’d been a workaholic for all those years without really getting to know his girls left him thankful every day for the chance at changing that fact. It seemed the only good thing to come out of the divorce.

“Let me finish my coffee and then we’ll make breakfast. And after an errand I have to run, I’m yours all day. Okay?”

Both girls shouted yes, and laughed and jumped some more before they turned on the television in the sitting area of his bedroom to watch cartoons while he read his paper and polished off his coffee.

“Who wants pancakes,” Jason asked twenty minutes later as he exited the bathroom, rubbing his head with a towel.

“I do. I do,” they shrieked at the same time as they rushed for the stairs and he followed.

In the kitchen, Amelia ran to the refrigerator, opened the door, and rooted through it while Chloe gathered items from the cupboard. Once everything was assembled on the counter, both girls began measuring ingredients in a bowl for pancakes, something that had become a breakfast ritual on Saturdays with his girls.

Jason waited while the two mixed the batter. His job was cooking.

“Okay, Daddy. It’s your turn.”

“Be prepared for a feast to whet your appetite.” Jason tweaked Amelia’s nose and took the bowl from her. “Dollar size or regular?”

Chloe giggled. “I like dollars.”

“I prefer the regular size,” Amelia said, using her most adult voice.

The girls observed while Jason cooked. He nodded at the cupboard as he added another pancake to the stack. “Whose turn to set the table?”

Amelia sighed before moving to the silverware drawer.

Jason flipped the last pancake onto the plate and switched off the stove. “Here, take these.”

They were sitting at the kitchen table finishing their breakfast when the doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Agnes.” Jason shoved away from the table and stood.

Agnes Johnson lived two doors down, and acted as babysitter while he worked or had to leave the girls to do errands.

“I expect you two to finish your chores while I’m gone,” he said over his shoulder on his way to the front door. “We’ll go sailing when I get back if you pass inspection.”

He backed out of his driveway and drove the short distance to Crystal’s condominium, one of many well-maintained buildings situated in the high-rent district between the Atlantic Ocean and the Intracoastal Waterway.

In the spacious marble lobby, Jason headed for the intercom security section and pushed the right button.

“Yes?” Crystal’s voice carried a moment later.

“Crystal? It’s me, Jason Roberts.”

A clank sounded, unlatching the lock, and after opening the heavy lobby door, he headed for the bank of elevators.

Crystal stood outside her condo when Jason stepped off the elevator. For a split second, he thought he was seeing Claire, the resemblance was so undeniably strong. Dressed casually in shorts and a halter top, Crystal had a tousled, carefree look aided by sexy bare feet sporting bright pink nail polish.

“Jason. This is a surprise,” she said.

Immediately, the resemblance vanished. Crystal’s tone held more cynicism than Claire’s.

“You may not think so, once you hear what I have to say.”

“Oh? This isn’t a social call?”

Jason ignored her pout as well as the suggestive quality of her voice. “Carl Carter. That’s why I’m here.”

“Ah. I thought Claire fired you?”

“She did. This is personal.”

“I see.” Running a tongue over her lips, she eyed him cautiously. Finally, she nodded to the open door and stood aside. “Well, come in and have a cup of coffee.” She raised her hands in mock surrender. “I promise to behave.”

He offered a genuine smile and shook his head. “I can handle a cup of coffee. And you know I can handle you.”

“Just not in the way I’d like,” she muttered as she followed him inside and closed the door.

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” he said, chuckling. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“No.” She laughed and winked as she caught his gaze. “Some things are worth fighting a little harder for.” She sighed and started for her kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “But I know when to back down. Coffee’s fresh. Have a seat.”

Crystal pointed to a stool near an island centered in the room. She opened the cupboard and took out two large coffee mugs, and preceded to fill both with the hot brew. Handing one to Jason, she moved to the fridge and took out a quart of half-and-half. After she added some to her coffee, she held out the container.

“Cream?” she asked as she sat down beside him.

Jason nodded. He stirred in the liquid before taking a small sip, keeping his eyes on her the entire time.

“You have questions, so ask,” she said after a long moment of silence.

“What’s going on with you and Carl Carter? You were seen going into his room at the Ocean View Resort the other day.”

“I see Jimbo’s been talking. Let me guess. He uncovered some interesting facts that make it appear as if I was having an affair with good old Carl, didn’t he?”

Jason stayed silent and waited without releasing her stare.

She snorted. “It doesn’t work on me, Jason. I use the same tactic.”

They continued to eye each other in silence. Ten seconds passed, fifteen, and then twenty.

“We can sit and have a stare-off, if you want, or we can converse.” She brought the mug to her lips and took a sip before setting it back on the counter. With her gaze still on him, she quirked an eyebrow. “And conversing means both of us talk.”

“I’m listening.”

“You first.”

“Okay. You’re right. It does appear as if you’ve had one hell of a good time with good old Carl. Do you deny it?”

“Yes. That was how it was meant to look, for Claire’s benefit.”

“Claire’s benefit?” He shook his head and gave a disbelieving grunt. “Try again.”

“She needed proof of his infidelity, and I was only obliging.” Crystal tossed out a throaty chuckle.

Dumbfounded, he stared at her. “You were only obliging?” Flashing annoyance, he said, “Come on. You can’t expect me to buy that.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and her expression took on one of extreme patience, as if dealing with a naughty child. “I already had proof, but in order to use it, I would’ve hurt one of my clients.”

His gaze narrowed as he processed her words. Then it dawned on him what she was alluding to, and he swore under his breath.

“Elise. I should’ve known you knew about that.”

Her eyes rounded. “You know?” she shrieked.

“Jimbo,” he said. The one word explained it all.

“My, he has been busy.”

“Yeah. It was in the same report. The one that told me about you and Carter.” He took a sip of coffee and his mind spun. “So, that’s how you got Elise to back down?”

He was amazed at what a small world it was. He hadn’t even known Carter existed two weeks ago, and now he’d discovered a connection with him and Jason’s ex. The guy screwed around. A lot, considering how many women visited him while Jimbo was keeping track. Even Claire’s assistant stopped by that day.

“A little blackmail never hurts,” Claire said with another laugh. “I’m surprised it worked.” She broke off and her gaze turned speculative. When she spoke again, her voice held a touch of awe. “Jimbo found out about Carl and Elise? I’m impressed.”

“Said it took some digging to uncover that little detail,” Jason replied with a nod. “How’d you find out?”

“It’s not like I planned it. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Crystal’s face scrunched in distaste. “I hate the man’s guts, and have since the day he married my sister and showed himself to be one true bastard. Claire’s always been blind to that side of him. I swore I’d get even with him then, even if it took me the rest of my life.”

“Then you weren’t lying. Carl came on to you?”

“Claire told you about that?” She laughed. The brittle sound held little humor. “My! You two have had a few conversations of your own.”

“Let’s get back to Carl and Elise, and how you discovered their affair,” Jason said, not wanting to discuss with Crystal his relationship with Claire.

Elise’s transgressions were old news and not worth stewing over. Nothing she did bothered him now, unless it affected his kids. Claire was another matter. Last night was still too raw, and he was vulnerable where the lady was concerned. Jason didn’t trust Crystal, and he certainly wasn’t about to give her anything she could use against him.

“Okay.” She grinned. “I found out purely by accident at a divorce lawyer’s convention I attended seven months ago at the Ocean View Resort. I saw Carl playing kissy-face in the bar with a woman, who from a distance looked like Claire . . . and me. Knowing Carl, I had a pretty good hunch she wasn’t Claire. I hung back and watched, totally unsurprised when they stood and headed for the elevators, allowing me a good look. Of course, I wasn’t prepared to recognize Elise. After a little digging, I learned the room was booked under C. Carter with a company credit card in the same name.”

Crystal pulled a long drink of coffee and shook her head. An amused smile settled over her face. “Can you believe Carl’s used the same resort for other affairs? He’s one sneaky bastard, having an affair with Elise while appearing to be with his wife.”

Jason grunted in understanding. Elise did resemble both Claire and Crystal from the back. Elise was of a similar build. She had the same color of hair, only hers wasn’t as long or as thick and wavy. Nor was it natural, meaning it came from a bottle. Standing side by side, the comparison wasn’t as strong. Still, their similarities were enough to throw off anyone looking for signs of an affair.

Jimbo had uncovered the info by accident, much as Crystal had, while keeping the hotel under surveillance. Elise had cleverly covered her tracks—and still was, according to the PI, although why was a mystery. Whenever the two met, she first went into her gym, giving the impression of working out while she slipped out the back door. The spa was adjacent to the hotel.

He nodded. “Go on. This is getting interesting.” He was long past being angry at Elise’s actions. Now they only amused him.

“Well, because Elise was giving you such a hard time, I wanted to help. The caution and extreme measures she took kept Jimbo from discovering the affair at the time. Only Carl should have stayed more cautious because of a little morals clause I sneaked into their contract for Claire’s Collections.”

“Morals clause?” Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah. Told you I wanted revenge. Been planning it a long time. Anyway, I spent a few weeks taking pictures and collecting evidence. Then I confronted Elise and threatened her with losing custody and no alimony.” She caught his eye and winked. “You know me; I can be brash and hard when I need to be.”

He only snorted. Brash definitely described her.

“I also called Claire and offered my services free of charge if she ever decided to divorce Carl. I told her about the clause and that I had evidence. I never really expected her to take me up on my offer. I mean, she’s always been in denial about the guy. Imagine my surprise when she calls out of the blue ready to oust him, out for blood, demanding the evidence. Now, that really put me in a bind.”

Crystal flashed him a look that said What else could I do. She held her cup to her lips and sighed before taking another sip.

Jason’s attention never faltered. “What happened next?” he prodded when it seemed as if she wasn’t going to continue.

“I couldn’t tell Claire about Elise because I was trying to protect you and your kids from having it plastered all over the newspapers. So I decided to become the scapegoat.” Crystal shrugged. “Why not? She’s believed it for years. It wasn’t hard to get Carl to come on to me again, since he hadn’t noticed the clause. I met him at the resort at the same time Claire was attending a public event. After drugging him, I took some pretty incriminating pictures.”

“You drugged him?”

She laughed while nodding.

“Weren’t you worried about being caught?”

“Not really. I was very careful, and judging from what I knew about Carl, I figured it was worth the risk.” She laughed again. “I had him. I made it well known that I was Crystal Grayson, not Claire Carter. Stupid bastard didn’t even have the brains to check with the desk to see what name or credit card I used when I checked in. He just assumed I’d follow his lead. By the end of the evening, I had plenty of evidence to make sure Carl got what was coming to him. Of course, my plans for revenge shattered when the news didn’t go over so well with Claire. She called me a few days later, saying they were going to work things out.”

His gaze remained on Crystal as he worked to keep all emotion off his face. It all sounded too incredible to absorb. He had no reason to doubt Crystal’s word. No one could make up such a story.

“Carl Carter doesn’t seem to be a model citizen now, does he?” he said after digesting the information.

“That’s a mild way of saying he’s a complete asshole.” Crystal’s lips curled into a sneer. “He’s a user. Always has been and always will be.”

“If that’s how you feel about him, why’d you visit him the other day?”

“To gloat,” she admitted, smiling slyly and almost gloating now. “To look him in the eye and tell him why he was going to lose it all. He’d wiggled his way out of my trap once. I’d waited too long not to relish seeing the look of horror on his face when he realized he wouldn’t be able to do it twice.”

“Revenge is a strong motivator,” Jason murmured, observing Crystal’s satisfied expression. He almost wished he could see Carl’s face, except he knew if he got within ten feet of him, he’d smash his face into a wall.

“He sucked Claire in, using her vulnerability and lack of experience to hold her, making her doubt herself. I’m only glad she’s finally wised up and has stopped making excuses for him.”

“I know about making excuses, Crystal. I made a few of my own for Elise, as you’re well aware.”

“Yes, but you had kids to worry about.”

“An easy excuse to exploit for accepting less than perfect. The kids suffered just as much. Both are happier now that the home front isn’t a battleground.”

For too many years he’d used the girls as a means to hold on to his dream of having it all. What a waste of time, especially when he’d picked the wrong person to share his dream in the first place.

“Now can you understand why I didn’t tell you or Claire the entire truth?”

“Yeah. I do. It seems the actions of people like Elise and Carl inflict a lot of damage on innocent bystanders who get caught up in the fallout.” But like Claire, he allowed it to happen and had his own regrets, as well as his own stupidity to overcome.

“Carl Carter doesn’t deserve to live the charmed life he’s lived,” Crystal declared as she slammed a fist on the counter, making the spoon dance. Hatred glinted in her eyes. “He’ll probably land on his feet, even after Claire’s through with him. But someday he’ll get his. You just wait and see.”

Jason focused on his mug before he drank, absorbing the hot liquid as warmth slid down his throat. The thought of Carl and Elise getting what they deserved consumed his thoughts. Such an appealing idea, but he wasn’t holding his breath. Life didn’t make sense at times, seeming unfair to those who deserved it, whether good or bad.

He’d seen examples all too often in his job. Clients got off on technicalities or errors, basically getting away with their crimes because the system wasn’t foolproof and he did his job too well. He thought of those clients as having get-out-of-jail-free cards. At times he found them difficult to stomach.

Then there was the other side of the coin. Others he knew were innocent felt the full fury of the law because of that same system. A DA out to make a name for himself or witnesses who lied could sometimes sway a jury to go against true justice.

His mom had a saying she’d always offer whenever he’d lament about the injustices of the world. What goes around, comes around.

Jason could hear her voice in his head right now telling him not to worry about others. That he should worry more about what he did and what he had to offer the world.

Such simple words, only not so simple to follow.

Chapter 18

Claire breezed off the elevator with a light step on Monday morning. Over the weekend, she’d begun a new chapter in her life, one that didn’t include her husband. Although it was scary to view her future alone, a weekend of solitude without worrying about him had done wonders.

“Morning, Amy,” she said, smiling warmly after spying her assistant at her desk. She grabbed a cup of coffee and strode toward her office.

“Wow! Is that a new outfit?” Amy jumped up to follow.

“As a matter of fact, it is.” She pivoted, feeling the soft fabric swirl with her. “Like it?”

“Great color.” Amy placed a stack of messages on her desk.

“I did some shopping this weekend. Haven’t been in ages. Realized it was time to make some changes.”

That had been part of her transformation, one that included tossing out her husband. At the same time, she tossed out the old Claire, complete with her staid clothes and predictable ways.

“What’d you do? Have a makeover too?”

Nodding, Claire sat and took a sip of the hot brew. She heaved a satisfied sigh and leaned back in her chair.

“I feel as if a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is the new me.” She peered at her assistant, finally noticing the stylishly cut dark brown hair. “Looks like someone else got a makeover.”

“Got tired of dealing with a sauna on my head every time I went out in the heat.” She shrugged. “It feels so free having it off my shoulders.”

“I like the color. It looks good on you.”

“You really like it?” Amy beamed and patted her head when Claire nodded. “It’s my natural color. I told Charlie to do something that would be easy to keep up. I got tired auburn.”

“I’ve been thinking of doing something drastic with mine.” It would complete her transformation from married to single.

“Something drastic about what,” Gwen asked, peeking around the door.

“Come on in.” Claire grinned and nodded to her assistant. “I’ve been thinking of a new do to change my image. Like Amy’s. Her cut really adds to her appearance. What do you think? Should I whack it off?”

“It’d definitely be a new look.” Amy laughed.

“I just might join you.” Gwen stepped inside and plopped into the chair next to Amy. “I’m due for a new look. We could go together.”

“That would be great,” Amy said. “Then you can tell yourself the same thing I did as I sat in the chair. It always grows back.” Her smile died and she cleared her throat. “Have you heard any more about Carl?”

“Yeah, what’d he do after you confronted him?” Gwen asked, her gaze narrowing.

Claire had filled both women in on her plans for divorce. “I haven’t actually spoken to him since our talk. I changed the locks on the house last Thursday, and left some of his things on the front stoop. When I arrived home after work, they were gone. I packed the rest of his stuff this weekend and called the hotel yesterday, left a message asking him where he wants me to ship it. Crystal says everything can be handled through attorneys. I never have to set eyes on him again.”

“What about the business?” Amy asked. “I don’t mean to be nosy. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t worry. The company will remain intact.” Claire smiled. Seemed too many around the office knew of her plight, but none knew of her trump card. “Carl won’t be coming back to the office, not that anyone will notice.” She’d made that perfectly clear during their little chat when she’d confronted him. “As far as I’m concerned, nothing will change. Your jobs are secure.”

“I wasn’t worried. I have the utmost faith in my boss.” Amy sighed and a soft smile settled on her face. “Well, I should get back to work.” She jumped up and closed the door on her way out of the office.

“So a divorce won’t affect the business?” Gwen stood, leaned against the desk, and picked up a paperweight, tossing it from one hand to the other.

“No, thanks to Crystal’s cunning and a small morality clause she added to our agreement at the last minute. In the fine print. I didn’t even know it existed until Crystal came to me a few months ago and pointed it out.”

Claire took another sip before setting her cup on the desk. She reached for the stack of messages and flipped through them. “Seems my sister was quite thorough back then. She obviously saw Carl for what he was a lot sooner than I did. Can’t say I’m not relieved.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yes. I’m having lunch with her today to plan the strategy for getting Carl out of my life forever. Only a matter of formalities, from what she says. Filing the necessary paperwork and such stuff. She told me over the phone, but my eyes glazed over at all the legalese.”

“There’s no chance you two will ever get back together?”

“I’d say that’s a definite no in capital letters.” Claire grimaced. “Carl may think he can sway me with soft words and kisses, but I’ve got news for the bastard. I’ll never believe another word he says. My only regret is that I didn’t figure this out two years ago. I’d have saved myself a lot of grief. I can’t wait for the divorce to be final and I can be rid of him once and for all.”

“Well, I guess I’d better get back to work.” Gwen set the paperweight down. “I found a couple of typos in the last section of the catalog. I want to run through it again, just to make sure before it goes for final print.”

“Thanks.” Claire’s gaze fastened on Gwen’s exit, but her mind focused on her upcoming lunch with her sister.

So much had happened in the past ten days. One thing that kept playing over and over in her mind was the idea that for too long, she and Crystal had been estranged. A little twinge of regret nestled in the pit of her stomach told her she shared in part of the blame.

• • •

Claire wound her way through a restaurant filled with customers toward the table Crystal occupied. “Sorry I’m late. Had to take care of a few details before I could break away.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“No. Merely dealing with deadlines. Things are always crazy right before a new catalog is released.”

Crystal nodded to what looked to be bourbon on the rocks. “I didn’t order your drink because I wasn’t sure what to order.”

Just then, a waitress appeared. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Water’s fine.” Delaying the inevitable, Claire picked up the glass of water in front of her, took a long swallow, and watched the waitress proceed to another table. She hadn’t seen Crystal in months, and this was harder than she imagined. How did one pretend her sister’s prior actions didn’t bother her?

“That’s a great look for you. It’s about time you showed off your assets.”

The genuine warmth in Crystal’s voice caught Claire off guard. In the middle of perusing her menu, she lowered it enough to make eye contact and smiled.

“You like it?” She refrained from patting her head.

“Yes, I do. Very chic.”

“I’m still getting used to it. You were always the chic one.”

“You just needed to bust out of that conservative shell and flaunt your sexuality a bit.”

“Is that what you do?” The minute the words were out, Claire wished she could take them back.

Crystal’s smile died and she sipped a long drink of bourbon, fiddling with the glass once it was back on the table. After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat and saved Claire from making more rash blunders by moving directly to the point.

“I’ve started proceedings. Carl should be notified within days. Once that happens, we can set up a preliminary hearing and go before the judge.”

“You’re sure this won’t affect the company?” Claire asked. “I’m perfectly willing to give him more if it means not hurting the company.”

“Don’t worry. Carl hasn’t got a prayer. Are you sure you want to buy him out? I mean, with the evidence of all he’s done to date, we stand a good chance of cutting him out entirely, thanks to that clause.”

“I won’t lower myself to his level. Pay him what he feels he has coming. He didn’t earn it, but he was my partner, after all.”

“I wouldn’t let him get away with it. I’d have his balls for breakfast.”

“Won’t change anything,” Claire replied, ignoring the bit of censure in her twin’s voice.

Crystal shrugged. “No. But it’d be a little revenge.”

“I’ll just have to make sure I pick better partners in the future.”

Claire’s focus returned to her menu. Mulling over what to order, she remained silent. Finally, she closed the plastic folder and looked expectantly at her sister, who appeared to be engrossed. When Crystal glanced up and noticed Claire’s attention, she sighed and pursed her lips before setting her menu on the table.

“We need to talk, Claire,” she said hesitantly. “Clear the air.”

Claire put up a hand. “Not now.” Her voice sounded caustic, but she couldn’t help it. “Maybe later. Once the divorce is behind me, we can talk. But not now. This whole thing is still too new, and I’d like to stay on track.” Then she added in a softer tone, “I can only take this one day at a time. Believe it or not, I really want to work out our problems.”

“I understand.” Crystal swallowed more bourbon and placed the glass on the table, fingering the rim before speaking again. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Tears threatened. The sincerity in Crystal’s eyes as well as the genuine concern in her words affected Claire. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded.

“Have you two decided?”

The waitress’s interruption saved Claire from having to say more. The brief distraction allowed her enough time to compose herself.

Once the waitress had plopped two salads in front of them, Claire asked nonchalantly as she picked up her fork, “Working on any interesting cases?”

“One big one, besides Jason’s,” Crystal answered. “A high-profile divorce. Can’t talk about it because we’re in the middle of negotiations.” She sighed, took another forkful of food, and chewed thoroughly before swallowing. “It’s amazing what people who promise to love, honor, and cherish till death will stoop to for money once they forget they made those vows.”

“We’re fools when we fall in love.” Claire’s smile turned rueful. “I’m a perfect example.”

“Maybe. But you’re also honoring him in a way he doesn’t deserve.”

Her laughter burst free. “That’s not for him. That’s for me. I want to be able to look back twenty years from now and be proud of the way I walked away. I may hate Carl, but I won’t let him change me.”

Crystal frowned. “You’re a better person than I could ever be. You always have been, even when we were younger.”

“Why do you say that?”

All humor died as thoughts of their childhood flitted through Claire’s brain. At one time, the two had been very similar in personalities. When had they taken such separate roads?

“I’ve always had the impression you were a bit contemptuous about my nice ways.”

“Jealousy?” Crystal shrugged. “Who knows?” Then she smiled and added in a cynical voice, “God, listen to me. I’m turning soft. I’ve got to get laid.”

Claire laughed again. Leave it to Crystal to say something so outrageous. Oh, how she had missed her sister over these last three years.

She took another sip of water before changing the subject. Maybe time did heal wounds of the past, after all.

Chapter 19

Jason charged into the racquet club Monday afternoon and headed for the locker room. Spying Jimbo already seated at a bench tying his shoes, he hurried up to him.

“I have to pick up the girls from school by six, so I only have time to play a few games,” he said, opening a locker while unbuttoning his shirt. “We’re going to their favorite restaurant for dinner.”

“How can you eat that shit?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Sure it is. You’ve read about the guy who ate fast food every day for a month? Gained thirty pounds.”

“Yeah. But that was three meals a day, and he had to super-size the meal if the clerk suggested it.” Jason grinned. Jimbo always gave him grief about the girls’ choice. “A meal at Mickey D’s every two to four weeks isn’t gonna kill me, and I play enough tennis with you to stay fit,” he added.

He left out his thoughts about how Jimbo couldn’t understand because he didn’t have kids. Only someone with children could understand the draw of fast food toys with kids’ meals. Amelia was starting to outgrow it, but not enough to say no. Chloe was a romantic and still loved collecting anything to do with her favorite movies.

“It’s your body.”

“Your turn’s coming,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” He tucked in his shirt, slammed the locker shut, and grabbed his tennis racquet. “Let’s go.”

Jimbo trailed behind him, saying in his Texas drawl, “Nothing, my ass. Tell me.”

“You judge life as a single person. Priorities change when you have kids.”

“Good thing I plan on staying single.”

“That’s only talk. You were throwing out the L-word not so long ago.”

Jimbo snorted. “Won’t be making that mistake again.”

Even though he spoke in a jovial manner, Jason knew it was all an act. He’d spent too many nights listening to his friend rant and rave about Crystal’s actions three months ago, about the information he’d uncovered, and about how Crystal had tried to deny it all, saying she had an explanation. Maybe it was time to hear an explanation.

“She wasn’t having an affair with Carter,” Jason said as he opened the door to the courts.

“You on drugs?” Jimbo’s expression turned skeptical. “She was at the hotel last week visiting the bastard. Before that I saw pictures. Saw a report with details.” He pushed past him and started for the far court that was empty.

“You can’t believe everything you see.”

Stopping in mid-stride, Jimbo pivoted. “The pictures I saw made it hard to believe anything else.”

“Not if it was set up to look that way.” He smiled at his friend’s obstinate stance.

Jimbo’s narrowed gaze scrutinized his face as if searching for hidden meaning. He shook his head and resumed walking. “Doesn’t matter.”

Jason followed him as far as the net. “You don’t even want to know what I found out?”

“No.”

“You should listen.”

“No. You gonna play or jabber?” Jimbo moved to the corner behind the line and got into position to play, bouncing a tennis ball first off the racquet and then on the court a couple of times. “You ready?”

“You’re one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” Jason yelled before retracing his steps to the back of the court. “Go ahead. Serve.”

They played a fast set—one that Jimbo won.

“It’s a good thing I have to leave,” Jason said. “My ego can’t take two sets.”

“You were starting to come alive.”

“Yeah, right.” Jason grunted as he picked up a towel and wiped his face. Both started for the locker room. “I can’t beat you when you’re out for blood. That look says it all.”

“There’s no look.”

“Yeah, there is, and I know why it’s there. Talk to Crystal, if you don’t want to listen to me.”

“Damn, Roberts. You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

Jimbo took the towel from around his neck and wiped the sweat off his face before he grabbed his clothes, along with another towel, and stalked toward the showers.

Jason snatched his stuff and followed. “You’re being a jackass. Worse! A jackass has more brains.”

“Drop it.”

“You should listen to what I have to say. Then if you still feel the same way, I’ll drop it.”

“Shit!” Slamming the side of a fist into the tile while his face contorted in anguish, Jimbo hissed, “I spent two frickin’ months trying to forget her. Nothing you can say will make me want to go there again.”

Despite the pain in his friend’s eyes, Jason persisted, unable to let the subject go without another try. “Let me ask you this. Did you listen to her explanation?”

“All of a sudden you’re defending her. Why?”

He shrugged. “Everyone deserves defending. Everyone has motivations for doing what they do. You should listen to hers.”

Jimbo muttered a strong expletive under his breath while shaking his head and raking a hand through his dark brown hair. “Seems to me your opinion of Crystal was lower than mine, and now you’re her champion. God, Roberts, you’re taking this motivation shit too far.”

He turned his back and stepped into the shower, ignoring Jason while he lathered up.

Jason sighed. Cursing his friend’s stubbornness, he stepped under the water and quickly showered. After drying off, he dressed. Neither said another word.

Finally, Jason grabbed his bag, ready to leave. “I have to pick up my girls. If you ever lose that stubborn streak and decide you’d like to know more details, give me a holler.”

Without saying another word, he turned and stalked out.

• • •

Two nights later, Jason and the girls were just finishing dinner when the doorbell rang. He pushed back from the table and stood. “Whose turn is it for dishes?”

“Mine.” Amelia rolled her eyes.

“Ha, ha.” Chloe stuck out her tongue.

“Twerp. Help me clear the table.”

“No. It’s not my turn.” Chloe got up and dashed out of the room.

“Dad? Why can’t she help me? You made me help her last night.”

“You’re older. So just do it,” he said on his way to the living room, ignoring their usual squabbling. Lately, it seemed they were always at it. “And don’t worry about Chloe.”

Amelia scowled. “Stupid sisters. I hate being the oldest. It sucks.”

Jason smiled, remembering a time when he’d said much the same thing to his mother about his younger brother. His smile broadened when he realized he’d just now repeated almost word for word his mother’s response. Damn! He was turning into his mother.

When he opened the door, his eyebrows rose with surprise. Jim O’Malley stood in front of him.

“Hey. Got a minute?” Jimbo asked.

“Sure. Come on in. I’m glad you showed up. I’ve pulled up the linoleum in the master bath and could use another pair of hands.” He stood aside and waited until Jimbo was inside before asking, “Have you eaten? I’ve got leftovers.”

He shrugged. “I could eat. Sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” Jason led him into the dining room and pointed to a chair. “Sit. I’ll bring you a plate.” He turned and said over his shoulder, “You want a beer?”

Jimbo’s yeah registered as he entered the kitchen. Amelia was busy rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher.

“Chloe could’ve helped. I always have to do more’n her.”

When she offered him a petulant pout, Jason snorted. “Get used to it.” He pulled out a plate and began filling it with food that hadn’t been put away yet. “You’re the oldest, so more is expected of you. That’s life, kiddo.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not, but nothing will ever change the fact that you’re two years older. If it makes you feel any better, she’s stuck being the youngest.” Jason moved to the refrigerator and rooted through it, grabbing a beer. “That has its own set of problems.”

“What’s so hard about that? All she does is act annoying and follow my every move.”

“It’s called hero worship, and you know you love it. How about if I let you pick out the movie to watch tonight?”

“Really?” Amelia’s eyes lit up with mischief, and she giggled.

He nodded. “When you’re done, go on up. Uncle Jim’s here. We’ll probably spend an hour or so working on the bathroom. Then I’ll be up for the ending. Okay?”

“Sure, but I’m picking something she hates.”

Ah yes.

He lifted Jimbo’s plate, along with the beer, and headed for the dining room. Amelia was becoming more like him every day, employing the same subtle tricks he’d always used to annoy his younger brother.

Coming up to the table, he placed both the plate and beer in front of Jimbo. Then he sat next to him, grabbed the wine bottle, and poured himself another glass.

After silently observing his friend eat for several minutes, he asked, “So, what’s up?”

Jimbo shrugged and continued eating.

Jason sighed and took another sip, and slumped into the chair to wait. Jimbo would eventually get around to the reason for the impromptu Wednesday-night visit.

His friend must really need to talk, he surmised, when no more than five minutes passed before he said, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Maybe I am missing some details.” Jimbo gulped a hefty swig of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When I ran into Crystal last week at the Ocean View, something about her parting shot and attitude got to me, especially after listening to your jabbering.”

“And?”

Forty-eight hours was a record for his stubborn friend. Jason’s fingers went to the stem of his wineglass. He swirled the dark red liquid inside the bowl, eyeing it.

“I gotta hear Crystal’s explanation.”

“Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She’ll just tell me to go to hell.” Jimbo sighed and rubbed his face. Then he pushed the empty plate away and sat back. “That woman has more piss ’n vinegar than any woman I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Crystal can be a handful,” Jason agreed, using the act of sipping wine to hide his smile.

“Fricking understatement.” Jimbo grunted. “Unfortunately, it’s the same aspect that attracts me. I never know what to expect from her. It’s goddamned exciting, but it’s also frustrating at times.”

Jason laughed and stood. “Come on. Let’s go tear up the bathroom and work off that frustration. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Chapter 20

Two weeks later

Jason stood ready to head out the door, thankful it was Friday. It had been three weeks since his sail with Claire, and although he hadn’t spoken to her, she was never far from his thoughts.

His desk phone rang, and he paused from stuffing his laptop inside his briefcase. After answering, he recognized Deputy Snyder’s greeting.

“What’s up?” Cradling the phone between neck and ear, he shoved the device the rest of the way in the case, zipped it up, and set it aside.

“Actually, it’s not you I need to talk to. I’m trying to reach your client.”

Jason stilled. “She’s not my client any longer, remember?”

“Yes, but I was hoping you’d know how to get in touch with her. She’s out of her office, her cell phone’s off, and she’s not answering her home number.”

Jason sat down and swiveled his chair around. “Why do you want to reach my ex-client?” he asked, searching the horizon. “I thought your investigation ended.”

“New developments. Fishermen found a body that washed up along the shoreline. A straight shot in from where she was anchored. Body’s beyond recognition with no identification. Can’t get any fingerprints because the fingers have been nibbled on, so he’s classified as a John Doe. Coroner says preliminary COD indicates he was stabbed to death.”

“You can’t be thinking it’s Carter? He’s alive and kicking, according to my investigator.”

“I know it’s a long stretch, considering the timing. Especially since you called and filled me in on his whereabouts.” The deputy broke off and heaved an audible sigh into the phone. “This guy’s been dead for a few weeks. But it’s my only lead, so I’d thought I might as well follow up on it. I called the Ocean View Resort asking for Carter, but apparently he checked out over a week ago. I’d like to speak with Claire Carter as soon as possible. Ask some questions that are niggling in my mind.”

“Okay. I’ll find her and have her call you.” They said their good-byes and Jason hung up the phone. He kept his gaze on the water and watched an ocean liner go by. All the while, his mind was on Claire and this new development.

It rankled somewhat that he welcomed the deputy’s excuse to break his self-enforced separation. He’d purposefully stayed away, hoping to give her time. He’d been busy with work, with Chloe and Amelia, with his remodeling, so his days were full. Nights were another matter entirely. Too many were spent lying awake wondering about her and wanting her.

Elise would be picking up the girls from the sitter, and he’d be left alone for the next week. Now he had the time to assuage his curiosity. Intending to make a side trip on the way home, he grabbed his briefcase and quickly exited the building.

Traffic was light on the drive to Claire’s house. In no time, he pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine.

Doubt crept in. As he hesitated, not sure if he should climb out of the Mercedes, Claire’s front door opened and she appeared. The sight of her took his breath away with the effect of a punch in the gut as she walked slowly toward the edge of the stoop, shading her eyes with her left hand.

So like Crystal, yet so different. Softer and sweeter; he could almost say prettier.

Barefoot, she wore shorts and an oversized T-shirt, but she didn’t have to be dressed in sequins for him to find her beautiful. And she’d done something different to her hair, something sexier that made him want to run his hands through it all the more.

Sighing, he grabbed the door handle, gave it a shove, and stepped out of the car.

“I thought I heard a car.”

“Hi. You got a minute?”

“You drove all the way out here to ask me that?”

He grinned. “No. I drove all the way out here to see you.” He closed the distance between them, noticing her teasing expression. “You look good.”

“I’ve been eating.”

“Good, that’s good.”

He stopped two feet in front of her. His hand went to the back of his neck and he inhaled deeply. For a moment, he felt tongue-tied, couldn’t think of anything to say. Such a new experience, and one that made him realize how ill prepared he was to deal with this situation.

His biggest worry came from the idea that he might be pushing something onto Claire. Should he stay away? Was he moving too quickly? And what did he want from her?

As if picking up on his uncertainty, Claire grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come inside where it’s cooler. I’ll find something cold to drink.”

All doubts vanished the moment she touched him. He followed, letting her concerned expression warm him. Things would work out. If the timing wasn’t right, he could wait.

Once inside, she strode over to a seating area and let go of his hand. “Make yourself comfortable,” she murmured, pointing to the white sofa. “I have soft drinks and beer in the fridge.”

“A soft drink would be great. Thanks.” Too antsy to sit, Jason trailed after her. “I’ll help.”

“Nothing to help with.”

“In that case, I’ll watch.”

She pulled two colas from the fridge and handed him one. Jason took a long swig and sighed with pleasure.

“Thanks for the drink. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”

Locking gazes with him, Claire nodded and sipped at her drink before asking, “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

“You know why.” He grinned, unable to take his eyes off of her. From this distance, he could tell she wore minimal makeup, making it easier to spot the delicate flush of color filling her cheeks, caused no doubt by the innuendo in his tone.

“I do?” Resting the drink at her lips, she shifted her attention to a point on the floor. The quick smile she flashed along with the glint of amusement in her eyes belied the question.

“I couldn’t stay away.” He took another swig and averted his gaze. “Actually, there’s another reason I’m invading your space.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Deputy Snyder called on my way out of the office. Wants to speak with you.”

“Really?” Her anxious gaze flew instantly to his face. “Why?”

“Seems he’s got a mystery on his hands.” He hesitated a moment. “A dead body washed up onshore.”

“A body?” A puzzled look flitted over her face. “Carl’s not missing any longer. So why would he want to talk to me?”

“Good question.” Jason grunted. “You should give him a call to find out. Preferably while I’m here to advise you.”

“I hardly need your advice,” she reminded him good-naturedly. “I thought we’d established that fact.” She polished off her soft drink and placed the can on the counter. “Would you like another?”

“No.” He moved to set his empty cola can on the counter. His forward momentum didn’t stop until he stood in front of her and positioned a hand on either side, trapping her.

“What I’d like is a kiss,” he said playfully, planting a kiss on her nose before leaning in and nuzzling her neck. His lips went to her ear and he whispered, “My thirst for liquids is quenched, but I’m still thirsty. I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

He felt her touch on his arms. Her soft laughter rose up and she tilted her head, opening herself and giving him more access in the process.

“You taste so good,” he murmured.

She had such a gorgeous neck and he took advantage, letting his mouth have his fill. He spent a few minutes nibbling on a delectable earlobe and then trailed kisses to her inviting mouth. At the same time, his fingers shoved into her auburn hair, savoring its silky softness.

Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his very noticeable erection fit into the perfect V of her body. His hands roamed the length of her. She was soft and warm, so yielding. In seconds he had her T-shirt up, and . . .

Oh God, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Searching fingers found and cupped the fullness of breasts, kneading, squeezing. They wouldn’t stop touching, even when he mentally commanded them to halt their progress because he sensed a need to slow down. Yet, he hadn’t counted on the volcanic heat sizzling between them, heat that erupted into flames of want, need, and desire so quickly, the fire inside him threatened to rage out of control.

Jason had no intention of making love with her. Not yet. It was too soon. Yet his body refused to listen to the warning bells clanging in his brain. Right now he was beyond hearing and gave in to the lust coursing through him.

A buzzer sounded in the distance. Jason ignored the noise and increased his efforts as urgent lips and tongue stroked and caressed, not wanting to lose his momentum. He’d never have his fill of her heady kisses, and the idea of stopping now was unthinkable.

When she stiffened, he felt her resistance strengthen, breaking the spell enough for sanity to seep back in, and he pulled away. Noise infiltrated his thoughts.

Both were breathing heavily as she placed her forehead against his chest and stilled. With his eyes shut tight, he rested his chin on her head. Wrapping her in a bear hug, he fought his urges as the annoying buzzer continued, torn between being thankful for the interruption and wanting to plant a fist through the damned timer.

For a moment, he’d lost it. Lost all reason and restraint. He’d been so close to dropping to the floor and plowing into Claire. No finesse, no romance. Just pure sex. What was worse than knowing how close to the edge he’d teetered was knowing that without the intrusion of the timely buzzer, he’d be inside her.

“I have to get that,” she mumbled softly into his chest. Leaning back, she studied him with eyes full of passion and promise. She cleared her throat and hesitantly tucked stray curls behind an ear. “I’m sorry. They’ll burn if I don’t.”

He inhaled deeply, still struggling with the idea that she wasn’t wearing a bra, fighting to ignore those swollen, well-kissed lips that begged for more.

When he nodded and released her, she hurried to the oven and pressed a button. The noise died and she switched off the heat, grabbed hot pads to open the door, and brought out a square pan. The scent of chocolate filled the room.

“Brownies.” She glanced his way with a warm smile. “I didn’t know you were coming, but Sophie told me you like sweets.”

Leaning against the counter and crossing his legs, he propped a bent elbow on one hand and rubbed his chin with the other, eyeing her closely. How could she stand so calmly and impassively, innocently talking about brownies and Sophie, when getting her naked was still his most pressing thought? The lady affected him too much.

“If I can’t give in to one craving,” he drawled in a teasing voice, curbing his desires with an iron will, “I guess a brownie is a pretty good consolation.”

A slight bit of pink crept up her face. The sight sent another rush of awareness through him, but now that he was back under some semblance of control and she was out of reach, he could ignore the feeling easily enough.

“They’re too hot right now, so you’ll have to wait till they cool.” She set the pan on a trivet, tossed the hot pads aside, and wiped her hands on her shorts.

“Hmm. Waiting. Interesting concept.” He walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. Spying the soft drinks in the back, he reached for one and pulled it out, popping the top before bringing the can to his lips for a hefty drink. “Somehow I know I should wait, but I’ve lost my patience for it. Waiting takes too much damn time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it,” he murmured, and took several gulps of cola. “Just thinking out loud.”

Her gaze narrowed, and she eyed him cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I think you should call Snyder.” He nodded to her phone sitting on the counter. “Then we’ll go to dinner.”

“You don’t want to wait for the brownies to cool?”

“No.” He headed for the other room, saying over his shoulder, “That’s for dessert. If we make it that long.”

“Jason, you’re not making any sense.”

“Just call the damn deputy and then let’s get out of here.”

He had a hard time squelching his annoyance on his way to the living room over why it took so much effort to stop the errant thoughts swirling inside his brain.

Chapter 21

Claire watched Jason’s retreat. She’d heard nothing from him since her faux pas of coming on to him on the sailboat. For the last three weeks, she’d moped around like a lovesick puppy dog hoping for a pat on the head, but today, she finally came to her senses.

With her life a mess right now and a divorce to muddle through, the last thing she needed was a romantic entanglement. So she’d left the office early, determined not to care that he hadn’t called. She’d turned off her cell, unplugged her phone, and had driven home to do what she always did when she was upset. Bake.

“Are you going to fill me in on your private little joke?”

Having grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, Claire followed Jason into the living room, trying to figure out his game. From the moment she first spied him sitting in his car, he’d acted weird.

“No joke.” He took a sip of his drink. “Just trying to be a friend.”

“Ah, I see.”

A big fat lie, she decided as she sat opposite him. Plus, he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He’d been playful and teasing just minutes ago when they were kissing, and she’d wanted to play along, glad that he’d gotten over their last encounter. She’d tried not to respond, had fought the sensations coursing through her while his glorious lips had caressed her neck. But when he’d captured her mouth, all her resolve had evaporated into a burst of pleasure.

“That’s why I haven’t heard from you? You were trying to be a friend.”

She winced at her hurt tone and prayed he wouldn’t pick up on it. Judging by the way his searching gaze quickly sought hers and held it, her prayer went unanswered.

Jason saw too much. It was uncanny how with just a look, she felt a connection all the way to her soul. So different from how Carl made her feel. She wondered briefly why she got the urge to run every time Jason was near, and why she never heeded the urge.

“You have no idea, do you?”

His question caught her off guard. Her breathing stopped for a second when she slanted him a glance and spotted what he didn’t bother hiding in those startling blue eyes. Desire laced with humor.

She cleared her throat and swallowed hard, unsure how to deal with this side of Jason. After all, she barely knew him. Yet deep down, she knew him. She felt it on that first day, even if she’d been too numb to recognize it.

He chuckled.

His amusement irked her. “You think this is funny?”

“Yeah, I do find some sick humor in all of this.” Still grinning, he added, “But mostly I’m laughing at myself.”

“Laughing at yourself. I see.”

Ignoring the familiar tug his smile always elicited, she strode toward him with purpose as he warily followed her progress. She stopped right in front of him, gently took the can from his hand, and set it on the table.

“Tell me how funny you find this,” she murmured as she gently pushed him back against the cushion. She straddled his lap and sat, lowering her head until her lips barely touched his, where they hovered.

His hands grabbed her waist, and for a second, she thought he’d push her away. Once their mouths made the connection, his grip tightened and he pulled her closer.

She swallowed her triumph and kissed him using her entire mouth. His erection grew to life underneath her, and she reveled in the fact that she was the cause.

When she broke the kiss and looked at him, he was breathing heavily. His eyes were closed.

“Are you done tormenting me?” he asked.

“For the moment.”

She moved to get up from the chair, but his hands held her firmly in place. They slid around her waist, their gentle pressure urging her closer. He lightly brushed his mouth and tongue over hers. Sensations rolled over her, sending delicious heat all the way to her extremities. Her mind emptied of everything but his essence.

A wave of disappointment built when he broke the elusive connection.

“Is there a particular reason you felt you had to make a point?”

“Maybe,” she murmured breathlessly, laying her head on his shoulder. Right now her boneless arms and legs were useless. She’d lost the will to move.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” With his mouth within an inch of her ear, he spoke barely above a whisper, but Claire heard him as if he’d shouted. “Can’t you feel how much I want you? How hard it is to resist you?”

She smiled, hiding her amusement in his chest. She definitely felt how hard it was. But somehow all that did was heighten her excitement. She’d never felt this powerful with Carl, who was always the aggressor and always in control. And because this feeling of power was so new, she wanted to savor the sensation.

“Claire? Look at me.”

His tone of voice drew her attention. She lifted her head and pushed up on her elbows, eyeing him cautiously. “What?”

“We’re not going to make love just yet.”

“We’re not?”

“No. We’re not.” He nodded toward her bedroom. “You’re going to put on a bra, and then you can call Snyder before we go to dinner.”

“Oh?” Swallowing hard, she absorbed his orders. “And what if I want something different?”

“You don’t,” Jason said with absolute certainty, shaking his head. He caught her gaze and she couldn’t look away. “You deserve—no, we both deserve more. So honor my request. Please?”

She sat upright and in doing so his full erection jerked slightly. He was still aroused and was much more affected than he let on. She grinned inwardly at the knowledge.

“Okay. But I want you to know something.” When his eyebrows rose expectantly, she sighed and answered his unspoken question. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Oh?” His gaze narrowed.

“Yes. And you were wrong.”

“What specifically was I wrong about?” His tone held suspicion.

“I wouldn’t regret a quick screw with you. Do you want to know why?” She watched for his reaction. When his expression didn’t change and he simply waited without saying a word, she finally chuckled. “Because if we started with a quick screw, the next time around wouldn’t be quick. And we both know there’s going to be a next time.”

He exhaled a long breath. “You aren’t making this easy, are you?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m done doing what’s expected.” Claire pushed completely off him while he released his hold. She started for her bedroom, saying over her shoulder, “Since you asked nicely, I’ll honor your request. At least for now.”

Chapter 22

Without moving a muscle, Jason sat after Claire’s departure.

“Shit,” he said under his breath, stilling the urge to follow her, knowing that by now she was naked from the waist up. He clutched the arm of the chair, using it as an anchor to keep him in place. He had to get out of here before he went back on his resolve of waiting.

Exactly why he was waiting eluded him at the moment, but he knew the reason was inside him somewhere, swirling around with all that testosterone. To take his mind off her, he grabbed the soft drink and chugged.

Finally, Claire waltzed out, fastening an earring as she walked. She’d changed into a chic outfit of knee-length shorts and a matching green silky top, had put on fresh makeup, and had brushed her unruly hair.

God, she was beautiful, he thought, observing her toss her hair back as she picked up the phone and punched in what he assumed was the deputy’s number.

“Deputy Snyder, please.” She flashed Jason a warm smile, which had the same effect as earlier, a two-by-four slamming into his gut.

Why was he waiting? That question circled back, and he was beginning to doubt he really had an answer. If she only knew how she sent his blood pressure soaring, she’d run for the hills, not smile in that enticing, promising manner that told him she’d give him exactly what his body craved.

“Thank you.” Claire put a hand over the phone and whispered, “They’re patching me through.”

Jason nodded.

“Yes, I got your message. You wanted to ask me some questions?” she said, turning her back to him. “I’m not sure what I can tell you, but I’d be happy to help any way I can.”

He was able to get the gist of the deputy’s questions from her answers.

“A few weeks ago,” she said, and paused. “No, I haven’t seen him since. And to be quite honest, I’m no longer interested in his whereabouts.” She faced Jason and smiled, but it barely resembled her earlier one. All warmth had fled her eyes.

“I’m sure you can.” She sighed. “Okay. I’ll get in touch with him and have him give you a call.” She broke off. “Why do you want to know that?” she asked after a long pause. “You don’t think the body could be Carl’s, do you?”

Her brow furrowed. “I see.” She started pacing as she listened more intently. “His dentist is Dr. Fielding. In Pompano Beach.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t think of any offhand.” The color had drained from her complexion. “Okay. I appreciate your concern.”

“What was that about?” Jason asked when she disconnected the call.

She seemed fragile and lost all of a sudden, so different from the siren in his arms only moments ago. This Claire was the woman he’d spied on the sailboat that first day.

He pushed out of the chair and rushed to take her in his arms as the answer to why he was waiting became immediately apparent. Claire needed time to deal with the emotional shit going on in her life right now.

“Snyder’s looking for Carl. His car’s still parked at the marina. He’s left several messages at the Ocean View before he checked out, but none have been returned. And there’s no forwarding address. From the way he spoke, I got the distinct impression he thinks the body they found is Carl’s.”

She leaned back and her troubled gaze caught his. Her turbulent expression tugged at him.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly as he rubbed his hands over her back. He pulled her closer before kissing the top of her head. “We both know Carl’s alive and well.”

“Then why is his car still at the marina? He loves that car. And why would the deputy ask for dental records?”

“Snyder’s only being thorough and following all leads.”

“He also said it wasn’t Carl who checked into the hotel, but a woman matching my description. And no one’s actually seen him there in all this time.”

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for everything. Don’t worry. We’ll deal with this together,” he promised in an effort to ease her fears. “I’m your lawyer, remember.”

Claire’s burble of laughter tickled his chest. “I fired you, remember?”

Relieved that she’d found her sense of humor again, Jason smiled and let go of her shoulders. He grabbed her hand and started for her front door.

“Come on. I’m hungry. We can talk about how we’ll reach Carl at dinner.”

• • •

Though the oppressive heat and humidity was typical of South Florida this time of year, Claire and Jason opted to eat outside. After being seated at a waterside table, Claire decided she liked Jason’s pick of places along the Intracoastal Waterway. The breeze off the water aided in making the experience bearable.

Her mouth watered from the tangy smells of garlic, onion, and grilled meat floating out of the kitchen. Her gurgling stomach was a reminder that she hadn’t eaten lunch. She’d waited for the brownies to cook, intending to drown her misery in chocolate instead of a balanced meal. Only she never got the chance because Jason’s arrival disrupted her plans.

“What’s so funny,” Jason asked, his smile matching hers.

The waiter arrived with the wine Jason had ordered, and once he’d approved and their glasses had been poured, they were alone again.

He took a sip of wine, eyeing her speculatively before asking, “You never answered my question.”

“No reason.” She shrugged. “Something struck me as funny, but it’s not worth sharing.”

“Okay.” With his narrowed eyes still fastened on her, he swallowed another mouthful. “Then answer me this. What was that little demonstration back at the house all about, and why the parting shot?”

“Parting shot?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m asking. I was there.”

She cleared her throat. Her focus roamed to the paper napkin under the wineglass. She fiddled with the edges before Jason’s hand closed over hers, drawing her attention to his face.

“Honesty. Remember?”

The whispered words sent waves of sensation down her spine. Peering into intense blue eyes, she breathed out a heavy sigh. It was uncanny, this feeling that came over her right then. She had to avert her gaze. As always, she felt as if he saw things no one else bothered to look for.

She cleared her throat again and tried to think of how best to explain. “For too many years, I haven’t been true to myself.”

Worse than that, she thought. She’d allowed her attraction for Carl to guide her thinking. If he found her desirable, then she responded, and his attention made her feel beautiful. In all the years they were married, he never knew the real Claire Carter, never looked below her surface, any more than she looked beyond his.

“I now realize my marital relationship wasn’t very deep, and I’m partly responsible because I tended to be a passive partner.” She broke off and took a sip of wine. Glancing at Jason, she gave him a quick smile and nodded to her glass. “So, what’s this?”

“An aged cabernet sauvignon.” Amusement danced in his eyes, replacing the intensity of a moment before. “It takes about five years for the tannins to ripen properly and become less bitter.”

“I could get used to this.”

“You do have promise. Stick with me and I’ll make a wine drinker of you yet.” Then he flashed that same smile she found so hard to resist and nodded. “Now let’s get back to you and your parting shot.”

Claire sighed. “Back to me.” She stalled for a moment, swirling her wine before she looked up and said, “I’m not sure why I did what I did, or said what I said. It was so unlike me. But I do know this. When we have sex, I’ll definitely be part of the decision.”

She worked to keep a straight face when she noticed Jason’s startled reaction. She was dead serious and allowed the fact to show in her eyes as she held his gaze without flinching.

She’d always let Carl be the aggressor in sex. He was a virile man who always made her feel sexy. Yet, she’d never flexed her sexuality, not like she had today. After those few minutes with Jason, she understood one thing. Claire would never go back to being a passive lover.

The waiter approached and placed their salads on the table.

“Interesting you should say when, not if,” Jason stated in a soft voice, cutting into the silence once the waiter left.

“Is it?” she asked, offering a ready laugh, remembering his words that night on the sailboat. Her enjoyment increased when something flashed in his eyes. “Jason,” she said, clucking her tongue at him after swallowing a bite. “I don’t sleep around, if that’s your worry.”

Due to an incapacitating injury, she hadn’t dated at all in high school, and rarely in college, preferring to spend her time on her start-up business instead, so her experience with men was limited. She’d only slept with one other man before she met Carl, which probably accounted for why she felt at fault when she found out about his transgressions. She wasn’t pretty enough or sexy enough to keep him. Except after meeting Jason, she knew both notions were false.

“I’m aware of that.” He put down his salad fork and moved a hand to his wineglass. He spent a moment swirling his wine, clearly mulling over his thoughts. “It’s just that I’m not sure you’re emotionally ready for what I have in mind.”

Jason’s concern amused her. He was trying so hard to keep his attraction hidden, but she saw right through the attempt. No one could miss his reaction in the kitchen earlier, and again when she’d sat on his lap. She had to admit that it felt damn good to be the one inciting a little lust. Though she knew Jason found her attractive, this—whatever it was—went deeper. She felt Jason saw her essence, and the total woman of who she was attracted him.

“I gather you’re talking about something long term?”

He nodded.

“I’m not entirely sure you’re ready for that.”

He stiffened. When the contour of his jaw hardened, she sighed, reached for his hand, and squeezed.

“You don’t have all the answers to my problems. And I don’t have a crystal ball. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to hold myself back from something I want because someone may think he knows what’s best for me.”

His narrowed gaze snared hers as he silently studied her. “Let’s talk about Snyder’s phone call.”

Claire laughed, not fooled one bit by his evasive tactic. “Okay.” She could drop the subject. For now. “What about Snyder’s phone call?”

“I’m trying to figure out why he thinks the body could be Carl’s.”

“It’s not Carl. I don’t know why I’m so worried. He was very much alive when I left him.”

“Tell me about that visit.”

“Not much to tell.” Claire lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. “I read him the riot act. Said I wanted a divorce, and it would be handled my way or he’d be left with nothing. The man had the nerve to try and charm me out of my decision.”

She stabbed more forcefully at her salad. Just remembering the way he’d come on to her, using sex to try to coax her into changing her mind, enraged her. Carl actually thought he could kiss her into submission. She sighed heavily. And why would he think differently when it had worked so well before?

Thankfully, the only reaction she’d had while in his presence had been seething rage. With hate surging through her system, she’d laughed in his face before storming out of the room, secure in the knowledge that Carl and his virile charm held no more influence over her. That memory brought a smile to her face as she answered Jason’s questioning stare.

“I haven’t seen Carl since I visited his hotel room. A few days later, he stopped by the house to pick up some clothes and boxes I left on the stoop. At least, I assume he did.”

She paused while the waiter interrupted to clear their salad dishes. When he left, she continued speaking.

“I wasn’t there, and by the time I got home, the boxes were gone.”

“I wonder who checked him in.”

“Crystal.”

“It wasn’t her.”

She laughed. “You can’t believe that.”

“I do,” he said.

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me, but wasn’t it Jason Roberts who came storming into my house shouting about Crystal’s involvement? How can you sit there and tell me so firmly I’m wrong? They were having an affair.” She strived to keep the impatience out of her tone, but she couldn’t help her snort of disgust before adding, “Crystal gave me evidence.”

She broke off when their waiter entered her line of sight, carrying a large tray and folding table.

“Crystal wasn’t having an affair with Carl.” Jason’s resolute voice interrupted her thoughts long after the waiter had retreated.

His certainty sowed a seed of doubt and caused her to search his eyes for answers. Seeing that unyielding expression only increased her reservations.

“What?”

Jason frowned. “He was seeing someone else.”

She stopped chewing and put down her fork. Her gaze moved to her wineglass as she played with the paper napkin while blinking back the tears that threatened.

“Who?” she asked, once she felt more composed.

“My soon-to-be ex.” He sighed. “I don’t think Crystal ever slept with Carl.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Her voice trailed off as her mind whirled. “She showed me proof. Pictures . . . receipts.”

“Your sister’s a bit unconventional in her thinking.” He chuckled and lifted his wineglass to his lips for another sip before returning to his meal.

His meaning sank in, and she mentally shook off the definite understatement. For as long as she could remember, Crystal had been unconventional. She also knew her twin’s behavior played a big part in why Claire stayed so passive. If Crystal’s wild actions generated attention, Claire garnered that same attention by remaining sane and serene.

“Care to fill me in?” she asked, once she realized Jason wasn’t offering any explanation.

“It seems she was trying to save me and my children some grief.” He spent the next few minutes giving her an update on Crystal’s involvement. “An unconventional as well as effective way of handling things, I’d say,” he said, ending his story.

“She drugged him and took the photos?” When Jason nodded, she snorted. “I’ll bet that’s where he got the idea to drug me. Carl never had a creative thought in his life if it didn’t involve sex or spending money.”

And he’d known he was on borrowed time, she added silently. During their last argument, she’d meant every word she said. Either he shaped up and acted like a husband, or he’d find himself out the door. Crystal’s evidence had given her the resolve.

Claire released a long, slow breath. “I’m losing my appetite talking about Carl. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” Jason grinned. “Can’t have that.”

Claire ignored the burst of heat his smile generated and concentrated on finishing her meal. She pushed out all thoughts of having those lips moving over her body. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Still, she wished the current of electricity that zinged her every time he got within a few feet of her would slow down. The pop and sizzle running throughout her system wouldn’t let her relax. The man affected her too much.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” Claire murmured after the waiter handed Jason the charge slip.

A brisk breeze blew through her hair. She tucked errant strands behind her ear and looked at the horizon. Billowy clouds floated in the deep, blue sky, but the usual afternoon thunderstorms hadn’t materialized.

“Perfect sailing weather,” she added.

Jason rose after signing the bill. “Want to go out?”

She couldn’t contain the laugh that sprang forth. “You have to ask?”

“My kind of lady.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with on a Friday night sail.”

Chapter 23

Crystal opened the door and noticed the cowboy boots first because she happened to be glancing down. Her gaze traveled from the boots to the faded-jean-clad legs, up the long, sinewy torso until it hit his face as he stood leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Hey, Red.”

She swallowed hard. The man shouldn’t be allowed on the loose, she thought, peering into those incredible brown bedroom eyes that always reminded her of decadent chocolate. Unfortunately, like any vice, after one taste of what Jim O’Malley offered, she knew from experience every bit of her resistance would vanish on the spot.

No! Don’t even go there. Her spine stiffened, along with her resolve.

“Jimbo,” she said, acknowledging him with a slight nod. “How’d you get past security?”

“You really have to ask?”

“Okay. Stupid question. Here’s another. Why are you here?”

She eyed him cautiously for a moment, ignoring his sexy half smile. When he didn’t say anything, her eyebrows shot up.

“Especially when, how did you phrase it? That you’d never be caught dead stepping over my threshold again?”

He winced and then grinned in a way that always grabbed her insides. “You got a minute?”

“Why? So you can insult me some more?” She practically sneered the words, using irritation to keep from succumbing to his sexy smile.

“My apologies. Seems I got carried away.”

Crystal steeled herself against the seductive quality of his voice. How did he do it? Sound so sexy with that lazy drawl of his gliding down her spine and back up again before wrapping around her ears? It wasn’t enough that his eyes and grin fired overloaded signals to her brain with torpedo-like precision. She certainly didn’t need sounds aiding in the process. She knew from experience he delivered exactly what his provocative drawl promised.

“Okay. You’ve apologized. Apology accepted.” She moved to close the door, but his blocking hand deprived her of the satisfaction of slamming it in his face.

“That’s not all I have to say.”

“Maybe. But that’s all I want to hear.”

“Look, can you just give me a minute?”

“I’m busy.” She turned again, ready to shut him out of her life for good this time, but she stopped in mid-step when he said, “Please?”

She wasn’t quite sure she heard correctly. It was so unlike Jimbo to beg. Sighing, she pulled the door wide and stood aside.

For a tall, lanky man who seemed all legs and arms, he could certainly move gracefully, she noted while watching him saunter inside and close the door behind himself. He still looked like a walking sexual fantasy—hers—and that was what she wished she could ignore.

Apparently, a few months hadn’t dulled the memory enough.

Since he now stood in her living room, it was all she could do to stop herself from tackling him and seeing if he still had all the right moves. The idea had merit, she thought as he raked a hand through his hair. That move only highlighted a bulging bicep under a rolled shirtsleeve, eliciting more thoughts of those long, talented fingers roaming over her body.

“What do you want?” She crossed her arms and flashed full annoyance with her glare, though she was more annoyed with herself than him for entertaining such crazy thoughts.

“Can we sit?”

“No!”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you, Red?”

“What do you want?” she asked in a louder voice, making a stronger attempt to block out sensations still rolling over her at the seductive sound of his drawl.

He’d never know how sexy she found him, how much she craved his touch. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction or add to his ego.

She inhaled deeply and was assaulted on another front . . . his scent, spicy aftershave mixed with a bit of sweat. So totally Jimbo, and all the more enticing.

“Well, darlin’, you haven’t changed. Still prickly.”

“Your point?”

“My point? Simple. I want you.”

“You’re out of your freaking mind,” she half shouted.

Her mouth dropped open and she could only stare in disbelief. He wasn’t serious? There was no way in hell he’d ever get close enough to hurt her again.

Jimbo reached out and slipped a hand around the back of her neck, and though she saw it coming—and had plenty of time to step back—she didn’t. Hating herself for her weakness, she stood mesmerized, enjoying the rough texture of his calloused fingers as they rubbed against her neck. When she didn’t resist, he tugged her closer until their mouths were a heartbeat apart.

She fought the sensations building, and though she knew she should, she still didn’t pull away.

“Am I?” he said on a sigh. His lips dropped lower, brushing hers with just the slightest touch.

Crystal closed her eyes, unable to breathe. Unable to think. Unable to do anything but feel the warmth of his exhales. She yearned to wrap her arms around him and close the remaining fraction of an inch between them.

His mouth moved back and forth, barely grazing hers as more heat shot through her system. When his lips traveled across her chin, nipping a path along her jaw, she dug for every ounce of control she could muster to remain still and not respond. But her fingers itched to roam over all the contours of that craggy body and feel all that power.

“I guess I am out of my freakin’ mind, ’cause this has been on it for weeks,” he whispered as he nibbled and sucked on her earlobe.

She melted. God help her, she was caving . . . fast. Why not? He knew all of her hot spots. Knew how to use that mouth of his. And his hands? He definitely knew how to use them.

One time. What could it hurt? It was only sex, and no one made love like him. No one.

Jimbo might have hurt her with his accusations, but she’d survived, even proved she could live without him. She could do it again.

Her arms slipped around his neck, and she positioned his head to take advantage of those lips. When she felt his hands start their lazy slide up and down her body, she couldn’t stop her murmur of pleasure.

“Damn, I’ve missed you, Red. I’ve missed this,” he whispered into her mouth before pushing her against the door and stepping into her.

Her only answer when his firm erection nestled in that perfect spot was a loud moan. At that point, Crystal gave up the fight and fully responded to his hot mouth, the one now kissing her neck and moving toward her breasts. Her hands flew to his arousal, and she stroked the hardness beneath the soft denim.

She smiled inwardly when he jerked and grew even larger under her touch. Never in her life had anyone excited her the way he did. But excitement was only half the equation. Excitement always led to the most incredible orgasms. The cowboy always seemed to know how to keep the excitement alive to that very moment when everything spun out of control.

Just as he was doing now.

Slowly they sank to the floor without breaking contact. The exquisite torture went on and on while he continued using hands, mouth, and tongue to hold her in that place of suspended pleasure. But now she wanted more. Craved more. And she would allow herself more.

She quickly unzipped his jeans and pushed material out of the way. He’d already relieved her of shorts and underwear, so it was an easy task to position herself to take all of him.

Ah . . . God, he felt so good sliding into her, she had to admit as her mind slowly emptied of everything but sensation. She’d missed this too.

In a flash, he was pumping, keeping to a steady, exquisite rhythm. He increased the tempo, his strokes going deeper, penetrating her entire being, until the burst of pleasure, one she hadn’t experienced since the last time she’d made love with him, exploded inside her.

When reality flooded back into Crystal’s consciousness, her eyes finally focused. He lifted himself on his forearms and she tried to sit up.

Spying Jimbo’s well-worn jeans shoved as far down as possible, held in place by those hideous cowboy boots, she laughed. Her laughter hid her twinge of regret born out of an influx of unwanted emotion.

Why had she allowed him to push her into this?

As her gaze roamed up the rest of him, she sighed. Okay. Despite those god-awful boots, he was hard to resist. Just looking at the way those muscles bunched when his arm went around her middle sent waves of awareness through her.

Then he flexed inside her, drawing her attention to his face. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll be ready for another round.”

“Get off of me, you oaf,” she snapped, trying unsuccessfully to shove him away.

The lean appearance was misleading. Jimbo was rock solid and he wouldn’t budge. Irritation ran heavy inside her.

“Why do you wear those goddamned boots?” If she could focus on that, she could hold on to her anger. Anger was the only thing that could protect her heart from his onslaught.

“I like my boots.” He flashed that lazy grin, melting her insides before kissing her neck, totally unconcerned about how silly he appeared with pants and boots meeting at his ankles. “The ladies in Texas think they’re sexy.”

“Well, you’re not in Texas anymore, Toto. This is Florida, and it’s ninety fricking degrees outside, not to mention ninety percent humidity.”

“It’s hot in Texas.”

He reached for her and nuzzled, using his tongue and lips creatively, banishing all thought of boots from her brain. Then in a quick move, he pulled out of her, bent to take off the boots, and kicked at his pants.

“But if you don’t like them, it’s an easy problem to fix.”

Once naked from the waist down, he leaned back over her. His heated gaze said he meant to continue with lovemaking. Before losing all common sense, Crystal tilted away, moving her head sideways to avoid his lips while glaring at him.

“Not so fast, hotshot. What makes you think you can waltz into my place and pick up where you left off?”

Jimbo’s quick hand stopped her retreat, holding her firmly in place. Then his mouth brushed hers, halting an inch above.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he murmured just before he nipped at her bottom lip, softly sucking. “And this means there’s still something between us.”

No . . . no . . . no! her mind shouted. Don’t let him kiss you like that.

Sensation after sensation slammed into her as he entered her again.

She moaned into his mouth, fighting the feelings. This wasn’t happening. Though she wanted to give in and lose herself in the moment, she couldn’t forget the past or how he’d hurt her.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered after finally managing to break the kiss.

“No thinking,” he ordered softly, finding her lips again.

This time Jimbo plundered and pillaged, giving her no room to back down, and forcing her to heed his tender command. His full arousal stroked her insides.

Moaning because she couldn’t contain the pleasure, Crystal caved again and lost herself in the sensations.

Later. Regrets would come later. Much, much later.

Chapter 24

Jason jumped on board the Seawind and turned to help Claire.

“I wish I knew we were going sailing,” she said. “I’m not really dressed for this.”

“I’ve got something to change into if you want.” Jason nodded at the stairs. “I’m changing.”

She followed him below decks.

He came out of the V-berth, holding out an oversized T-shirt. “It’s mine, but it’ll be more comfortable than what you’re wearing. And Elise left these. You’re welcome to them.”

“Won’t she mind that I’m wearing her shorts?”

“No. They’ve been here forever.” As he handed her the clothes, he added, “Elise isn’t much of a sailor, and hasn’t been on the boat in a couple of years.”

After changing, she stepped onto the deck and stopped short, her gaze raking his body. A tad self-conscious, he glanced down at his shirt and back at her expectantly.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear shorts and a T-shirt,” she said.

“Why?”

“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”

He ignored the suggestive look in her eyes, along with the sexual overtones he picked up on, and moved to untie the lines. He also ignored the rush of sensation surging through his blood, one that ended directly in his groin.

Get your mind off sex, Roberts. Following his mental edict, he started the diesel engine, backed out of the slip, and focused on guiding the sailboat out of the marina.

With her flowery scent wafting over his nose every few breaths, the feat was easier to think than to implement, he realized as the boat glided up the Intracoastal Waterway under full power.

“Tell me about your marriage,” she said above the engine noise.

“Why would you want to know about that?” He eyed her with speculation. In a heartbeat, all thoughts of tackling her and kissing that smart mouth vanished.

“Curiosity. You know all about mine.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth talking about,” he said evasively, shifting his gaze back to the water.

“So, what went wrong?”

By this point, they headed out of the inlet toward the markers and deeper waters.

“Go up and work the jib,” he ordered, handing her the jib sheets and nodding to the bow, “and maybe I’ll fill you in once we hoist the sails.”

Jason lifted the mainsail while Claire unfurled the jib. He shut off the engine and tacked southeast to take advantage of the brisk winds coming out of the southwest.

Once the boat heeled over, she made her way to the stern. She staggered slightly and grasped a steadying hand along the railing.

“You look comfortable.” Claire plopped onto a seat cushion across from him and took in a deep breath.

“I am,” he replied, noting the smile she offered reached her eyes. “You look pretty comfortable yourself.”

“This is perfect. The warm sun feels good after being in air-conditioning all day.”

Nodding, he had to agree. It was a perfect evening to be out. The sky was still a crystal-clear blue, not yet darkened by sunset. A few white clouds floated past, pushed along by strong air currents.

Another spectacular performance of nature spilled from the west, a common sight most evenings about this time, complete with fading sunshine mixed with clouds and interspersed with bursts of light from heat flashes.

Jason engaged the autopilot before heading below, and returned a few minutes later with an opened bottle of wine.

“More lessons?” she asked, watching as he poured a glass and handed it to her.

“Uh-huh. You have to acquire a taste for the finer things in life,” he murmured, holding her gaze while taking a sip. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion. Try it and tell me what you think.”

Her soft laughter sent ripples of awareness through his system. She put her nose in the bowl of the glass and swirled the mixture. Then she sipped a small amount, raised her chin, and smacked her lips together.

“Subtle fruity texture with a hint of raspberries. Bold oak scent.” She held the glass in the air, studied it, and nodded. “Excellent color.”

“Make fun if you want,” he said, chuckling. “Just remember, it has a way of sneaking up on you.”

“It is good,” she agreed, flashing him a quick grin.

He sighed with contentment, observing her while she sipped. It was a perfect night. Life didn’t get much better. To be out on the water with flat seas, a golden sunset, and a beautiful woman who happened to enjoy sailing as much as he did—it was his idea of heaven.

She leaned back and met his gaze. “You were telling me about your marriage. I gather I resemble your ex?”

“Same build; same height,” he said with a shrug. “She’s a redhead. Similar shade as yours.”

Although Elise was born a brunette, she preferred her auburn color and so did he. Jason chuckled again, and his gaze went to the glass he was bringing to his lips.

After taking a drink, he added while looking back at Claire, “Seems I’m partial to redheads.”

He watched the bit of pink steal up her face, and his groin tightened. Ignoring the sexual tug, he smiled inwardly. The slight blush only added to her beauty. The T-shirt did little to hide her lush figure, but at least she was wearing a bra.

The blue-green color of the shirt brought out her complexion, while at the same time highlighting those rich auburn tresses. Her unruly hair, blowing freely in the wind, had him clenching the wineglass, stilling an urge to plow his hands through it.

“You were married a long time. What went wrong?”

Her soft voice broke into his thoughts, and it took him a minute to comprehend the question before he could answer it, mulling it over for an adequate response.

“I don’t know. Everything happened like that.” He snapped his fingers. “One day we were in love, and the next we were total strangers engaged in battle. I’ve since learned it’s a process and happens over time. I own my part in our failure. I wrapped myself in work and pretended not to notice the distance.”

He stopped talking and his focus moved to a point past her on the horizon while the last twelve years ran through his mind.

“For the first eight years, we lived the good life,” he said a moment later. “My career was taking off, thanks to a case that made headlines and brought a huge boost to business when my client was found not guilty. I had a beautiful wife, two beautiful children. Everything we ever dreamed of. But she wanted more. More prestige, more things. A bigger house, designer clothes. So I worked harder to provide those things.”

“And?”

He heard the prodding in her voice and smiled wistfully. “And I got too wrapped up in work and making money. I forgot that you work to live, not the other way around. Living to work is an empty life. Money doesn’t buy happily-ever-after.” He sighed and shook his head, remembering. “It all came tumbling down when I found out she cheated with my partner at the time. I was working my ass off while he was reaping the benefits, helping himself to my wife in the process.”

Jason broke off abruptly. Why he revealed all those details to Claire, he had no idea. He only knew that once he started talking, the words just flowed, and he couldn’t halt them.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. “I must be tipsy. I’ve said more than I intended.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me talking helps?” she reminded him, meeting his gaze with amusement in hers. “Besides. Makes you more human. It’s nice to know you’re not as perfect as I thought you were.”

Her stare moved to the water, where it stayed for quite a while.

“What happened when you found out?”

Jason shrugged. “Worked to fix things. Tried to make up for my mistakes. What else could I do? Right or wrong, Elise was my wife and I meant my vows. Except by that point, the damage was done on both sides. We never dealt with the anger or the bitterness, so eventually our marriage turned into one angry, bitter battleground. She screwed around to get back at me, and I ignored her. Divorce will be final in two weeks.”

He broke off and his attention shifted to the knot meter. They were cutting through the water at a good clip, traveling at about six knots.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control the actions of others,” Claire murmured as she set the stem of her wineglass inside the cup holder and moved to sit next to him.

“What are you? My champion?” When she shrugged, he snorted. “Takes two to make a marriage, and it takes two to make a divorce. She had plenty of help.”

“Still, cheating doesn’t solve any problems.”

He felt her touch on his arm and heard the compassion in her voice.

Working to ignore the warmth spreading through him caused by both, he swirled his wine, watching the red liquid inside the bowl. He sighed and brought the glass to his lips.

“I hate dwelling on failure,” he said before taking a sip. Elise Roberts had been a failure. One big failure. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“We don’t need to talk at all.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “I love watching the sun go down. I could sit for hours just watching. Makes me believe in something greater.”

Jason eyed her deliberately and had to agree. He loved nothing better than watching spectacular scenery, especially if she happened to be an auburn-haired beauty.

While the sun disappeared, they drank wine and sat in comfortable silence, neither needing inane chatter to mar the breathtaking experience.

“Time to come about,” he said, and his voice boomed into the quiet night.

Claire jumped, clearly startled out of deep thoughts, and nodded before moving to do her part. When the boom slid around, she released one jib sheet and winched the other as Jason maneuvered the boat toward shore, heading southwest.

Dusk had settled in, that moment in time when it’s not quite dark nor light enough to see much.

Pwaphft!

Jason heard the first puff of air, the distinctive sound a dolphin made when the mammal breached the surface to take a breath.

A few seconds later, pwaphft . . . pwaphft was followed by a third, then a fourth. In a matter of minutes, the noise of puffing air became constant, almost a symphony of sound. Dolphins of all shapes and sizes swam along with the boat.

Claire laughed and ran to the bow. Leaning over, she counted.

“There are at least thirty, all breaching within seconds of each other.” Her tone held awe.

He came up behind her. A dolphin sighting was nothing out of the ordinary. He’d seen too many to count over the years, but seeing the flood of mammals all at once within five miles of land was uncommon, and something he’d never experienced before.

Together they leaned over, trying to get closer to the magnificent creatures. Several came to within inches of their reaching hands, yet none came close enough to touch. If he or Claire stretched further, the mammal would swim that much farther away, remaining a certain distance from contact.

They sailed this way for too long, heading much nearer to land than he normally would, simply because he didn’t want the movement of coming about to disturb the performance. Somehow he sensed once the boat changed course, they’d lose their traveling companions.

He sighed while coming to his feet. “Will you get the jib? We need to come about.”

She complied. In seconds the boat responded, and as he’d predicted, the dolphins didn’t turn with them.

“We’ve lost them.” Her words were laced with disappointment as she came to sit next to him.

“Yeah. But what a sight while they were with us.”

“I’ll remember this for the rest of my life. Thank you, Jason, for bringing me tonight. It was incredible.”

“Incredible,” he agreed.

Jason turned to watch her and could barely make out her features. But in the dimness, he saw eyes alight with pleasure. The sight had him sucking in a deep breath. Lust slammed into him and his groin stirred, sending unwanted signals to his brain.

“This was a bad idea,” he whispered, willing himself not to do something stupid. Sex with her would happen in due time, but not tonight.

“What was a bad idea?” Her sparkling, animated gaze became questioning.

“Being out here, alone with you.”

The sound of Claire’s soft laughter didn’t ease his struggle.

“You mean your strategy wasn’t to bring me out to the desolate ocean under the darkness of night and ply me with wine to have your way with me?” She laughed again. “The dolphins added a nice touch. Very clever.”

“I thought so.” He eyed her thoughtfully while his smile faded.

Suddenly, all the teasing went out of her expression. She licked her lips, seeming ill at ease. Then a siren’s smile replaced the nervousness of the earlier gesture. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Claire—”

“Don’t lie, Jason. I can see it in your eyes. Even if you didn’t plan it, you still want this to happen as much as I do.” Her lips brushed his for the slightest kiss, but she kept herself from actually kissing him.

He closed his eyes and willed himself not to move, staying perfectly still, except for that part of him that came alive all of a sudden as her tongue softly tasted. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, and he was dying to respond.

He groaned inwardly as her mouth moved across his face, barely touching him until she got to his ear. This time, her tongue plunged.

She whispered, “Admit it! You have seduction on your mind.”

Wait! Stop. This isn’t a good idea. Think, Roberts, think. Get the words out and stop this madness, his mind shouted.

With a labored breath, he said, “Maybe on some subconscious level, that’s what I had in mind. I don’t know. I get around you, and all I can think about is being inside you.”

Fool. Don’t tell her that. Stop!

But his body ignored the command. Instead, his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Lips met lips before need and want slammed into him, causing his mouth to plunder, begging for more.

The softness of the earlier action was long over as she yielded, offering all he was pleading for. And more.

His tongue and mouth thoroughly explored hers, invading, taking pleasure as well as giving it. Hands joined in the exploration, touching only smooth, soft skin as they roamed up and down her body. Claire personified the perfect woman, and he was dying to be inside her.

Stop before it’s too late! He heard the command his brain yelled, and somehow he responded.

How he found the will to pull away, he wasn’t sure. But it took supreme effort on his part to keep her at arm’s length once he did. He was breathing heavily as he watched her push back her unruly red hair and sigh before looking out into the darkened waters of the Atlantic.

He chuckled softly, marveling at his restraint, torn between finding humor in her forlorn expression that mirrored his own feelings, and giving in to the driving need to take her fast and furious as he’d been about to do. It wasn’t lost on him that this seemed to happen more and more frequently.

Jason placed a hand under Claire’s chin to bring her attention to him. “This isn’t over. Not even close. I meant what I said. It’s not happening tonight,” he whispered.

He kissed her temple before nodding toward the jib. “Prepare to come about. It’s time to head home.”

Chapter 25

After coming about, Claire carefully made her way back to the stern and sat, watching Jason at the helm.

Her body still tingled. Need engulfed her. How could she be so affected when he seemed so unaffected? And why did she feel so disappointed?

It shouldn’t matter. Her life was a total mess right now. She should be relieved because Jason was being so strong. Yet somehow that bothered her more.

“How can you stand there so calmly as if nothing’s happened?” she finally asked, not caring that she sounded ill-tempered and pouty.

His attention flew to her face, and he studied her. She could barely make out his features in the darkness, but she could see his gaze as it bored into hers.

“You’re not ready for what I have in mind.”

“I disagree.” She sent him a fuming look. “It’s not your call to make. I thought we’d established that.”

“Oh?” The air crackled as if with electric current, and the fine hairs on her body responded. “My mistake,” he murmured, not letting go of her gaze.

A rush of pleasure washed over her. The intensity of those eyes as well as the sincerity in his voice had her inhaling a deep breath. Okay. He’s not so unaffected.

“It’s a moot point. When we make love the first time, I want no interruptions. I’ll need all night and I’d rather be on dry land, not heading for the Bahamas.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? Anticipation spread throughout her. He made sense, and so she did her best to follow his lead and act as if nothing had happened. But it was harder to do than she thought.

The sail back to the marina took forever. Her senses moved into overdrive, becoming more acute. The balmy air smelled sweeter, contrasting with the saltier taste, while the sound of water lapping against the sides of the Seawind swirled in her ears. The shapes she made out in the darkness appeared more vivid, and the pinpricks of sensation running over her every time Jason moved gave her a firm impression of his presence.

Her nostrils took in the spicy smell of him at the same time. He had a definite scent, combining deodorant and a slight smell of aftershave. All male and totally arousing.

Somehow she got through those stressful moments of closing the boat, working side by side with him as she ignored the signals her body insisted on responding to. The drive to her house seemed to take forever because in the close quarters of his car, her sense of awareness only grew in intensity.

Claire didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when, after opening her door and giving her another earth-shattering kiss, Jason murmured his good-byes and pushed her inside.

Once he left, she paced the living room, still feeling edgy. Finally, she made her way into the kitchen and pulled out the brownies. She bit into one, thankful she had plenty of chocolate to drown out her misery.

When she felt calm enough, she headed for bed.

After tossing and turning for two hours, Claire got up and went back to the kitchen. In the dark, she grabbed the plastic bag containing the remainder of the brownies and took them to the patio. She plopped into a chair and put her feet up, nibbling on brownies as she planned Jason Roberts’s seduction.

The rest of the night Claire spent in abject wretchedness, wanting Jason, only to wake the next morning with a firmer resolve. She climbed out of bed and quickly showered.

Exiting the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head, she headed to her phone and punched buttons.

“Crystal?”

“Claire?”

She heard the grogginess in Crystal’s response and smiled.

“I guess I woke you. Sorry. Thought you’d be up by now.” Claire headed to the kitchen and the coffee she’d set up earlier. She grabbed a cup and filled it before adding cream. “I need a favor.”

Crystal groaned. “This isn’t a good time.”

“I won’t keep you then.” She took a sip of coffee before adding, “I was hoping you had Jason’s address.”

“Why?”

“I need a reason?”

• • •

Crystal sighed audibly into the phone. “I need a compelling reason to give out privileged information.”

“You can’t mean that. You always break the rules.”

“Not when my livelihood is involved.”

“Please? You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have a compelling reason.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“I have to tell you?”

“Yes, if you want the address from me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then my advice to you is look in the phone book.”

“Come on. I googled it, but only could find his work number, which I already have. Please?”

“Hold on.” Crystal cradled the phone and reached over to shake Jimbo. “Wake up, hotshot.”

“What?” He sat up and shook his head. Confusion clouded his eyes for a moment as he looked around, getting his bearings.

Crystal stuck the phone in his face. “Give Claire Jason’s address, will you?”

“What?” The bewilderment in his expression deepened.

“Consider it a favor,” Crystal whispered as she put her hand over the receiver. “I can’t give it to her, but you can.”

“You’re not making sense, darlin’.”

“Just give her the address, and I’ll make it worth your while,” she purred, kissing his neck.

He looked at her with a question in his eyes, clearly at a loss as to what she was saying.

Crystal sighed and spoke slowly. “I want you to talk into the phone and give her Jason’s address.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why. Probably for the same reason you came here last night. To stalk him.”

“Oh.” Now fully awake, Jimbo took the phone and his eyebrows lifted as his hand went over the mouthpiece. “So you’re gonna make this worth my while? How?”

“Give her the damn address,” she said, glaring at him.

He chuckled.

“Ma’am,” he said after putting the phone to his ear. “You want Jason’s address?”

“Yes,” Claire replied.

“You aren’t really thinking of stalking him, are you?”

His comment earned a slug on the arm from Crystal as she whispered, “That was a joke. She’s not going to stalk him. Like you couldn’t give her lessons.”

“Stop that.” Jimbo pulled the phone away from his ear and told Crystal, “I’ll deal with you and your interesting proposition later.”

• • •

Claire overheard their conversation and laughed. The world had tilted on its axis. She’d gone crazy.

The strangest part was, she embraced the sensation of power washing over her at that moment. Never in her life could she imagine a time when she’d come to the point of being taken for a stalker after asking for directions to a man’s house.

In essence, that was her plan. She had every intention of stalking Jason until he became her lover. Failure wasn’t an option.

“You still there?” the man asked, pulling her attention back to her reason for calling.

“Yes. I appreciate your help.”

“No problem.” He stopped abruptly and then asked, “What’d you say your name was?”

“Claire.”

“As in Carter?” Amusement spilled out in the question.

“Why, yes. I’m Crystal’s sister. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, not yet.” He chuckled and murmured, “To be a fly on the wall,” before saying in a louder voice, “You got a pen?”

Chapter 26

When the call ended, Crystal accepted the phone from Jimbo. She set it on the nightstand and turned to climb out of bed, but a hand on her thigh stopped her.

“Where you goin’?”

“To shower.” She pulled out of his reach to stand. Feeling his heated eyes on her naked body, she stifled a warm flush and grabbed her robe, quickly covering herself.

“No problem. I’ll join you.”

“Not this time, hotshot.”

“What happened to ‘I’ll make it worth your while?’”

“I lied.” She threw his shirt at him and nodded at the door. “Get dressed and go.”

“You don’t mean that, darlin’.” He caught the shirt and leaned back in naked splendor, sporting a lazy grin and making no effort to move.

“Yes, I do.” She headed for the shower as she said over her shoulder, “I expect you to be gone when I get done.”

“Damn woman!” he said to her departing back. “Still prickly, even after a night of lovemaking.”

When Crystal came out of the bathroom, Jimbo and his clothes were gone. She heaved a relieved sigh and strode toward the kitchen with an easy step. After turning the corner and spying what appeared to be a fresh pot of coffee, she stopped and glanced at the center island.

“I thought you left.”

“Couldn’t,” Jimbo said with a grin. “Never had that talk.”

She snorted and moved to open a cupboard and pulled out a mug. After pouring coffee, she retrieved half-and-half from the fridge, purposely ignoring his sexy presence. Even sporting a day’s beard and bed head, Jimbo still looked scrumptious, and still made her heart skip a beat.

Barefoot, he sat drinking coffee on a stool wearing worn, body-hugging jeans, his shirttail out, and had her morning paper spread over the counter. The guy had definitely made himself comfortable, and she grabbed on to the twinge of annoyance his presumption stirred.

“We are not talking,” she said, enunciating every syllable. She might as well have been speaking to the wall, because he continued reading the paper.

“Let’s just say we had a great night and end things before they go any further.” Her curt tone got no reaction. While pouring the cream into her cup, she added, “That way, neither of us says or does anything we’ll regret.”

When she realized he was still ignoring her, all patience fled. “Will you quit being so goddamned stubborn and leave?”

“I’ll leave after we talk,” he murmured, and lifted the mug to his mouth.

“Talking won’t change anything.”

He shrugged. “Then it won’t matter if I say my piece.”

“Go ahead.” She slammed her coffee mug onto the counter, not caring that half the contents sloshed out. “Give it your best, hotshot.”

“Aren’t gonna make this easy, are ya, Red?”

“I’m waiting.” She crossed her arms and glared, ignoring him and his sexy smile. The cowboy was delusional if he thought a mere conversation could sway her.

“Didn’t think so.” He took his time closing the paper, appearing to be reaching for words as he did.

“Well?” she prodded.

He sighed heavily. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Really? And you think listening now will change anything?”

“Damn it all! I’m trying to say I was wrong.” He rubbed at the stubble on his face as his gaze sought hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Those bedroom eyes of his oozed sincerity, but they would not affect her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I was all twisted up inside after seeing those pictures.”

“You had no business snooping through my stuff. How could you?”

“You got me there.” Jimbo flashed her a sheepish grin. “I was being a jealous ass, okay?”

“You got the ass part right.”

“Well, what’d you expect?” he yelled, his demeanor changing lightning-fast from contrition to irritation. “We’re tight one day, spending every possible minute together, and the next you’re too busy. I had to find out why.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t? And why is that?”

“Too risky.”

“I don’t understand. What were you risking?” Crystal’s gaze narrowed while watching his expression turn sheepish. She snorted in disgust. “Oh, I get it. Didn’t want to risk doing something foolish by asking me a direct question about our relationship. That might alert me to the fact that you cared. So you decided to make a bigger fool of yourself instead.”

He winced, putting up his hand to interrupt, but she was on a roll and wasn’t about to stop.

“And let me guess? Jason filled you in on the real reason why, and now you see the error of your ways?” She shook her head and met his gaze without flinching, letting the honesty of her meaning show in her eyes. “You blew it, hotshot. After screwing up, you wouldn’t listen to my explanation. Now it’s too late.” She nodded at the door. “You’ve said your piece. I’ve said mine. There’s nothing left to say. I’d like you to leave.”

“Come on, Red. You don’t mean that. Not after last night.”

“Yes, I do.”

Crystal folded her arms over her chest and turned her head. She couldn’t look at him any longer because she couldn’t lose what little resolve she had left. The begging quality in his tone was hard enough to ignore. But she couldn’t let the sincerity she glimpsed in that pleading gaze sway her. Jim O’Malley had the power to hurt her, and she would never travel down that road again.

Her back straightened while her jaw tightened. “Night’s over, hotshot. It’s time to leave.”

Praying he’d do as she asked, her attention went to wiping up the spilled coffee.

“Shit!” Jimbo said under his breath. “Definitely not gonna be easy.”

She felt his gaze as she rinsed out the dishcloth.

Finally, Jimbo bent to tug on his boots. Then he straightened. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I can out-stubborn you any day, darlin’.” Tucking in his shirt, he added, “What’s more, I like a good challenge.”

Crystal shrugged, ignoring the little flutter of excitement his threat generated. “You can let yourself out.” On her way to her home office, she said over her shoulder, “I have work to do.”

Once behind the barrier, she leaned against the cool wood, took deep breaths, and finally heaved a sigh of relief when the condo’s front door slammed shut.

Chapter 27

Claire stood on Jason’s veranda. From the street, his house seemed similar to all the others in the older, expensive section of Boca Raton. Upon closer inspection, the slightly shabby house appeared a little out of place among the well-maintained homes. Looking around, she noticed signs of flaking paint and wood rot.

She hadn’t pictured the attorney living in such a run-down place, even if the neighborhood reeked of money—old money—the kind that had been in families for generations and kept growing because of compounding interest rather than earnings.

Shrugging, she rang the bell. Sex with Jason had no bearing on where he lived. Last night, his only stipulation had been to be on dry land, and this house satisfied that requirement.

His startled expression after opening the door told her she was the last person on earth he expected to find on his doorstep.

“Claire,” he murmured. “This is a surprise.”

“Somehow, I figured that out on my own.” She grinned.

God, he was gorgeous, she thought, watching his expression turn from astonishment into a blank slate. Her eyes moved over that great body, one the old shorts and worn T-shirt he was wearing did little to hide. A thin patina of perspiration coated his arms and legs. Several drops beaded on his forehead and sweat was visible on his clothes, as if he’d been working out.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Sure.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “But I should warn you. Enter at your own peril. Visitors are usually put to work on weekends.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Curious, she moved past him and glanced around.

“You may not think so after laying tile for a few hours.” He turned and blazed a path, pushing building supplies out of the way as he headed toward the back of the house. “Coffee’s still hot. Want some?”

“Um-hmm. I could use a cup.”

Following him, she noticed a living room that looked as ratty as the rest of the place. The faded wallpaper had to be thirty years old, and the orange shag carpet was worn, showing bare spots in places.

“It’s not much now, but I have plans.”

At the sound of his voice, she looked over. He’d halted his progress and was watching her. From his expression and tone, she had no doubt he’d observed her silent scrutiny as she stepped cautiously through the rubble.

“Okay,” she said evenly, quickly schooling her face not to show her thoughts, though inside her mind was screaming.

She didn’t want to think about that ugly avocado-green sectional. Did they even make fake leather anymore? This room had to be the most god-awful space she’d ever seen.

“Hardwood’s under there. I just haven’t had a chance to pull up the rug. I’ve been working upstairs.”

She smiled at his defensiveness and tried to think of something nice to say. Since nothing came to mind, she stayed silent.

Then they stepped into the dining room.

“Oh my God!” she whispered, gawking at the difference between the two rooms.

Stripped wallpaper hadn’t been replaced over a bare, patched wall, but Jason had obviously pulled the carpet up and had refinished the floor. The wood gleamed. But that wasn’t what caught her eye.

She spied the antique table and chairs with such intricate carvings, the sight took her breath away. The table wasn’t a department store knockoff, and neither were the throne-like chairs.

Glancing around, she could envision what this room would look like once it was finished. Didn’t matter what went on the walls. The furniture and floor were the centerpieces, and everything else was merely backdrop. That Jason Roberts had the vision to see this intrigued her.

“Hmm, the contrast is interesting. Is this same wood under the carpet in there?” The tilt of her head indicated the living room.

Jason nodded. “Heart of pine. Impervious to rot and insects. But will burn like tinder if it ever catches fire. This place was built at the beginning of the twentieth century, before the supply was decimated.”

He turned the corner and added, “I know it’s ugly, but I’ve only begun. I expected to be further along, but I’ve been too busy up until a few weeks ago.”

“How long have you been working on it?”

“Nine months. I bought it right after Elise and I split.”

“Let me guess. She lives in Boca Gardens.” An exclusive gated community with million-dollar homes.

“Close.” He grinned, leading her into the kitchen.

As always, that smile had an effect. Ignoring it, she made note of another hideous room filled with garish greens, oranges, and browns, colors of the late seventies.

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed. “You know the phone book’s full of contractors who’ll do amazing things in months.”

His head went from side to side in slow motion as he walked toward her, holding out a cup of hot coffee. “This is mine and will be refurbished with my hands. The physical labor’s relaxing and gives me something to do in the evenings when the girls aren’t here.”

“I see.” She took the offered brew, added cream, and brought the cup to her lips, hiding her smile behind it.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She worked to wipe the amusement from her face, which wasn’t easy since she was staring into laughing blue eyes.

“I’ll have you know this house is a one of a kind.” He flashed a satisfied grin. “I got it for a song. The widow who owned it lived here for most of her adult life. Said I reminded her of her son who died years ago, and she wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate it. I’m not about to let her down. I’ve decided I like doing the repairs on my own.”

“I believe you.”

“I get the feeling you hate my house.” He started walking again, causing her to take several steps back. “But it doesn’t matter.”

His forward momentum stopped when the small of her back hit the counter and she couldn’t retreat any further. Snaring her gaze, he took her cup and placed it on the thirty-year-old laminated orange counter and stepped closer. Taking each of her arms, he wrapped first one and then the other around his shoulders.

“Did you know there’s heart of pine under that orange-and-brown linoleum?”

His smile was so engaging that she couldn’t help but grin in response. She shook her head to break the spell his stare generated while air hung up in her throat.

He nuzzled her neck as he murmured, “And you haven’t seen the rooms I’ve finished.”

“I’m sure I’ll find them fascinating,” she replied breathlessly as her heartbeat quickened. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensation that mouth elicited. Kissing Jason was becoming habit-forming.

“I’m sure you will,” he said before his lips found hers.

Disappointment filled her when he backed away and snatched her hand. “Grab your coffee. I’ll give you a tour. Then I’m putting you to work.”

Claire followed as one question plagued her.

Who was seducing whom?

Chapter 28

“I started up here because it’s where we live.” Jason said as they climbed the stairs. “I converted two of the bedrooms into a family room.”

He halted outside Amelia’s room and took in the airy space that his daughter’s input and interests inspired.

Claire laughed and stepped inside. “Nice room. I like the jungle theme.”

“Amelia’s idea. She has a thing for frogs and animals of the rain forest.”

“I gather your kids are with their mother?” She walked up to the bureau and glanced over her shoulder.

He nodded.

“They’re beautiful girls.”

His eyebrows drew up in question.

She smiled and indicated the picture in front of her. “I couldn’t help noticing.” Looking around the space, she took her time. “You did a great job with this room.”

“I had help. Both girls had to paint and design their space.”

“Beauty and talent. Just like their dad.”

“They keep me hopping.” Shrugging, he ignored the way her praise made him want to beat his chest and brag some more. “Chloe’s room is across the hall.”

She followed. “You’re lucky to have kids. They seem like terrific girls.”

“Chloe thinks she’s a princess in disguise,” he explained, watching Claire step into Chloe’s castle. “My youngest daughter’s thing is fairy tales.”

Jason spent a few minutes observing her investigate the space before asking, “How about you? Would you like a few?” When her brows furrowed, he added, “Kids.”

“My, we’re getting personal.” Her teasing grin told him she didn’t mind.

“I’m curious. It’s the attorney in me.” When she didn’t reply right away, he prodded. “Well? Was the question too personal?”

“Give me a minute,” she said with a quick laugh. “I’m thinking.”

“Sure. I know it’s a tough question, so take all the time you need.” Standing near the door, he indicated for her to follow him. “I’ll finish the tour while you’re thinking.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” She frowned. “I used to blame Carl because of his . . . well . . . you know, for not having any. But now, even if I had a different husband, I’m not sure I’m ready to be a parent. I may never be.”

“No one’s ever ready. You just do the best you can.”

“You seem to be handling parenthood okay.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you spent any amount of time around us. There’s always chaos when they’re here. Controlled chaos, but it’s still chaos.”

“Somehow I can’t picture that. You seem too organized, especially after seeing this room.”

By this point, they’d stepped into the open, pleasant space he’d completed after moving into the monstrosity of a house. The finished product of his efforts in here had kept him on course, demonstrating in bold contrasts the before and after. His plan had been to create an area where he and his girls could hang out and feel comfortable, a home theater and game room in one.

The awe in her voice pleased him. He found he liked the idea of impressing her with his hard work. “Let’s just say I adjust.”

“So, tell me more about them.”

“You mean their rooms don’t say it all?”

“They give me a good idea. But I want to know more.”

“They’re as different as night and day. Chloe is my romantic. Very fastidious and all girl. She loves reading fairy tales, playing dress-up, and playing with dolls. Amelia, on the other hand, hates what she terms as girly-girl things. She’s into sports, with baseball and football being her favorites. Unlike Chloe, Amelia couldn’t care less if her face is dirty. She still balks at taking showers. I’m not sure which one was left on the doorstep.”

“They make parenthood sound like a lot of fun.”

“They’re my life.”

“When do I get to meet them?”

Jason hadn’t been expecting the question, and he couldn’t stop his surprise from bleeding into his expression.

“That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you want to?” he teased. “Chaos isn’t pretty.”

“They can’t be that bad. After all, they’re related to you.”

“I rest my case,” he said, shaking his head. “That alone tells you everything, but I’m sure you’ll meet them sooner than later.”

The few minutes Claire peered into corners left him with one conclusion. She definitely belonged in the room.

She looked at him expectantly. “Now what?”

Jason smiled and held out his hand. “Tour’s over. Now it’s time to work.”

“Then lead on,” she replied, linking fingers with his.

Jason led her toward the master bath he’d been working on, ignoring thoughts of having to pass through his bedroom and the inviting four-poster bed along the way.

Don’t even go there, Roberts, he mentally commanded.

He was putting her to work. That’s why she was still here.

Yeah, right, he silently responded.

Kissing Claire again had been a big mistake. He could still taste her. Every now and then he’d get a whiff of her delicate perfume, and it was all he could do to keep from attacking her. The memory of her heated gaze moving over his body when he’d opened the door earlier kept infiltrating his thoughts, belying the notion that work was the only reason he let her stay.

When they entered the bedroom, Claire stopped suddenly, pulling out of his grasp.

“Wow. Saving the best for last, I see.”

Jason watched her do a three sixty, taking in everything as she went. “Like it?” he asked.

He glanced around, trying to view his space through feminine eyes. The navy and sage colors spoke to him because they had a masculine feel, but he wasn’t sure she’d find them as appealing.

Admiration showed in her eyes, and he pulled himself up a little taller.

“Like it? I love it. Who knew a lawyer could have such talent for putting colors together?” She stepped over to the bed and fingered the spread. “The rich hues suit the space, but aren’t overpowering.”

Then she moved to one of the posts and touched it lovingly. “I’ve never seen more beautifully carved wood, except maybe your dining room table and chairs.” She turned back to him with a questioning gaze. “Where on earth did you get dark wood like this in South Florida?”

“Came with the house. Some needs work; some needs to be chucked. I had those dining room chairs recovered in ivory. Don’t think you would’ve like gold velveteen.”

“Gold velveteen?” Her eyes flashed amusement. “The place came furnished?”

“When I made some comment openly admiring a few pieces, the widow added them to the deal. At a great price, I might add, for the same reason I got the house so cheap.” He shrugged. “Her exact words were, ‘I’d rather my stuff go to someone who appreciates it than to heirs I rarely see and I don’t know, who are sitting around like vultures waiting for me to die.’ She’s quite a feisty lady.”

Unsure how long his restraint would last this close to his bed, he reached out for her. “Come on. If you want to stay, you have to work.”

“Okay. I’m game.” Claire took his outstretched hand.

Stepping over boxes of tiles, he led her into the large master bath. At the door, he critically eyed the mess and expelled a deep breath.

The toilet was torn out, and glass doors leaned against the wall, waiting to be installed once the newly tiled shower was grouted. He was halfway done with the floor, tiling his way toward the entrance from the large whirlpool tub he’d installed during the week with Jimbo’s help. Even though the new vanity with double sinks was also installed, the room was still a total mess.

“My, my! A jack of all trades.” She crossed her arms and took a look around. “I’m impressed.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Jason was doing this for himself, not praise. Still, her warm approval sent another surge of pleasure throughout his system.

“So modest.” Using her fingers, she counted. “Carpentry, wallpapering, painting, plumbing, and tiling.” She glanced at him with slanted eyebrows. “What? No electrical?”

“Just the lights. All the pipes and wiring were updated about fifteen years ago. The air-conditioner and compressor’s been replaced in the past two years. Mrs. McPherson didn’t like to be hot.” He went over to a big bucket, took off the lid, and stirred the mixture inside. “Are you going to work in those clothes?”

She glanced down and pursed her lips. “Hmm. I guess this blouse isn’t the best thing for laying tile.”

Jason set the trowel inside the bucket, then rummaged in the dresser in his walk-in closet and yanked out one of his old T-shirts.

“Here.” He held out the shirt. “This will work.”

“Thanks.” She slipped it over her head. The big shirt hung past her knees, covering her clothes.

“I’ve already set the line, so if you use these tile spacers”—he held up one of the rubber crosses—“you’ll stay true.”

He placed one in the corner of a tile he’d set earlier, explaining to Claire the fine art of laying tile correctly. “Make sure you lay the mortar evenly. Like this.”

Then he demonstrated, placing a glob of thinset on the floor with a trowel, taking the spreader with teeth, and smoothing it out. “That’ll add strength. Tiles can crack if air’s trapped underneath.”

She gave it a try.

Once satisfied with her efforts, he began grouting in the shower while Claire spent the time on her knees laying eighteen-inch squares.

An hour or so later, he heard her laugh and glanced in her direction.

“What?” By this point he was done with grouting and was in the middle of installing the glass doors.

“I can’t believe you really put me to work.”

“I distinctly remember warning you.”

“But this is work work.”

“Is there any other kind?” He studied her handiwork and grunted. “Besides, you’re handling that spreader easily enough. Tiles look straight. Nothing to it.”

“Yeah, right.” She stretched. “I don’t know why I stayed.”

He chuckled. “You know why.”

“Oh?” Claire shot him a look. “Care to tell me?”

“You’re here for the same reason I searched you out yesterday. You couldn’t stay away.”

“Maybe.”

“And . . . you’re here to finish what we started last night.”

“Maybe.” Digging into the bucket, she laughed again.

“No maybe about it.”

He grinned, observing her and shaking his head before refocusing on his task. When done, he set the glass in place and added the top part of the frame, holding it in place as he turned the screwdriver.

“Besides, saves me the time and effort of chasing you down once I got this room tiled.”

Claire stopped, holding the spreader in midair as she eyed him warily while chewing on her bottom lip.

She cleared her throat. “You were going to chase me down?”

After glimpsing several emotions sweep across her face, he chuckled and went back to twisting the screw into place. “That was my plan. I’m really tired of showering in the girls’ bathroom, so my goal for the weekend was to finish tiling this room and to install the shower door. As you’re finding out, it’s a big job, one made faster and easier with help. Since I knew all thoughts of work would go by the wayside once we got together, I’m doing this first.”

“What? I’m some kind of reward for finishing?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s sick.” She let out a disgusted snort and bent over the bucket of mortar. “I can’t believe you’d use me like that.”

“I told you, I use what works. Besides, you didn’t think I’d give it up so easily, did you?”

“Excuse me?” Her cheekbones pinked.

“You heard me.”

Going back to her task, she threw thinset on the floor and spread it out before taking another tile and setting it in place. “You’ve definitely got the wrong idea,” she finally said.

“So you’re not here to seduce me?”

Jason finished tightening the last screw and jumped off the stepladder. After folding and setting the ladder aside, he opened and shut the glass door several times, making sure it operated smoothly. It was a struggle to keep the smile off his face as he surreptitiously watched her put the last tile in place.

Claire fascinated him as no one else ever had, including Elise. The lady had so many hidden facets. Every new one he encountered only added to his attraction.

Silently, he moved to stand behind her and waited until she finished. When she tossed the tool in the bucket, Jason reached down and helped her stand.

“Thanks. You did a great job. I appreciate the help, but I know I coerced you.”

She straightened, and he let go. She wiped her hands on the T-shirt before taking it off.

“I guess that’s it,” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the floor. “Except for the edges.”

“I’ll do those during the week before I grout. Mortar’s quick drying. Grout doesn’t have to be in place to walk on the tiles.”

“Looks like you still have a lot of work ahead.”

“Won’t take much.” He shrugged. “Some cutting.”

He hid his smile when he put his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped.

“Relax, would you?” He slid his hands up and down her arms. Her back stiffened even more, if that was possible. “I don’t bite.”

“I’m fine,” she said as she tried to step out of his grasp.

“No, you’re not. You’re tight as a drum.” He let go of one arm, placing a finger under her chin to force her to meet his amused gaze. “What happened to the brazen lady I saw standing outside my door this morning?”

“I guess I’m still getting used to her.”

Her tongue made a nervous pass over soft lips, and she cleared her throat while her gaze darted furtively to the floor. A few seconds later, he felt the soft expel of her breath over his hand.

Jason chuckled and released her. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“No. I was in too big a hurry.”

“You should’ve said something earlier.”

“I wasn’t hungry. I filled up on brownies.”

“Brownies?” He rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue, shaking his head in disgust.

Claire’s chin went up. “They served their purpose.”

“Come on,” he said, grunting. “I’m sure we can scrounge up something to eat in my kitchen you hate so much.”

“Your kitchen’s not that bad.”

“Don’t lie. I saw the look on your face when you took in my green appliances.”

“Gut reaction. I didn’t know there were any left on the planet.”

“They still work. I consider them antiques.”

“I hate to break this to you, Jason, but only the best of the best makes it into that category. Avocado green appliances don’t cut it. Neither does shag carpeting, especially orange shag.”

“Picky, picky.”

Jason smiled, happy to note their banter helped the tension along her back to dissipate as her shoulders relaxed. A wide grin replaced the wariness he spotted earlier. The lady definitely had two sides.

“And since I now know how you really feel about my kitchen, we’ll eat in the dining room. Still, you can keep me company while I cook. That is, if you can stand being in the same room with my antiques.”

He held out a hand and clasped hers once she placed it inside his.

Chapter 29

With her legs crossed at the ankle, Claire leaned against the ugly countertop, drinking a tall glass of water as she watched Jason cook omelets. He performed the task with an ease of someone who knew his way around the kitchen.

“You’re quite an amazing guy.” Her courage returned as most of her earlier embarrassment faded. Eyeing him now, she had to admit that he had the uncanny ability to shock her one minute, while putting her totally at ease the next.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow and waited.

“Provider, jack of all trades. And then I learn he cooks.”

“Necessity. I get tired of restaurants, and when the girls stay, it’s something we can do together.”

“Add to that perfection Father of the Year. You’re a walking fantasy.” And after all those hot kisses, she could probably add perfect lover as well.

“I have my faults. I wasn’t always a great father, but I’m working on it. When I think of all I missed out on by being absent, I cringe. I always had an excuse, usually work related.”

“Well, from my vantage point, all I can say is your ex is a fool.” How could any woman let such a good-looking, sexy specimen like him go?

He ignored her comment and concentrated on cooking, seeming uncomfortable with her praise, so she didn’t add any more to the conversation.

Finally, he turned the burner down and reached to take out plates from the cupboard before heading to the fridge. He bent and removed several items.

“Would you like anything else besides water? I have soft drinks, orange juice, milk.”

“I’m fine.”

“This is almost ready. You want to set the table?” When she nodded, he pulled out a drawer and pointed to a cabinet. “Silverware’s in here and everything else is in there. There’s fancy if you want or casual. I’m fine either way.”

She jumped to do as he asked. Decided on fancy because the idea sounded fun. She rooted through the drawers, retrieving items that would help achieve her goal.

“Table’s set,” she announced, coming back into the room as he filled two plates. “Looks delicious.” Smelled delicious too.

With plates in hand, he glanced at her and indicated the butter and jam on the counter with the tilt of his head. “Will you grab those?”

Claire nodded and quickly followed, wanting to see his reaction to her efforts. “Like it?”

Flickering candles in the center of the dining table added ambience to the delicate gold-rimmed china and sterling silverware. Though the backdrop was a little rough, the setting definitely had a romantic flair. Lace place settings and linen napkins aided her attempt.

Jason nodded. “Seems I’m not the only one who has a taste for luxury.”

“Luxuries should be used. Not stuck in drawers.”

Claire shrugged and sat in the chair he pulled out. She purposefully ignored his heady male scent that still lingered when he moved to sit next to her.

Like all the other times she’d been this close to him, a sudden sense of awareness rushed through her bloodstream. That current of electricity was back as the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Every cell in her body recognized him, all emphasizing one truth. She found him attractive on every level.

She picked up a fork and began eating, not quite tasting what went into her mouth, and praying her face didn’t show any of her inner turmoil.

Except utensils hitting the plate, there were no other sounds.

“You have some beautiful things.” She eyed the silver salt and pepper shakers while running a finger over the etched crystal of her Waterford water goblet, feeling much more relaxed.

“Without someone to share them with, that’s all they are. Things.”

“Then I’m glad you’re sharing them with me.”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share them with.”

She offered him a genuine smile as another flush of warmth spread through her. The food seemed to go down easier after that as companionable silence surrounded them.

Jason cleared his throat sometime later. “You do know you’re not leaving here for the rest of the weekend, don’t you?” he asked in a nonchalant manner before taking a sip of coffee.

“What?” Claire almost choked on the bite she was chewing. Her gaze flew to his face. She swallowed hard at his unreadable expression.

“I said—”

“I heard what you said.”

“Perhaps you didn’t understand?”

“I understand perfectly.”

“Then I don’t see a problem.”

He pushed his empty plate to the side and shoved his chair back, folding his arms as he stretched out extra-long bare legs. Deck shoes covered his sock-less feet.

Sexy as all get-out, Claire thought, zeroing in on his muscular strength.

Oh yeah. The man definitely had a knack for rocketing her pulse rate, shocking her, and acting completely unfazed at the same time. She smiled inwardly. If Jason thought he could unsettle her, he’d soon find out she could do some shocking of her own. She’d watched Crystal for too long not to have learned a few tricks.

“What if I don’t agree?”

“You do.”

His arrogance sent a surge of irritation through her. Jason’s manner seemed just a little too confident. That she’d been entertaining similar ideas of finishing what they’d started last night had no bearing on her thoughts right now. Carl had always been so sure of her actions, and she’d never be such an easy mark again.

While rising, she took the linen napkin off her lap and placed it on the table.

Much like the day before, he kept his eyes trained on her as she climbed onto his lap, only his heated gaze held none of the wariness. Today, it held challenge. Claire was determined to meet that challenge. Yet at the same time, she also needed to wipe that smug, satisfied look off his face.

“You seem so sure of the outcome,” she said softly before letting her lips graze lightly over his.

His erection sprang to life underneath her bottom. It felt decadent to know she was the cause.

“Do you see a different one?”

His whispered voice filled her ears, sending pinpricks of sensation rushing through her system. One hand rested on her waist, clasping her firmly in place, while the other went to her neck, holding her head steady.

When Jason lifted his groin slightly, pressing into her warmth in a rhythmic motion, her mind clouded, distorting her original intent as a sea of emotion engulfed her with more sensation. He tasted her mouth, his tongue circling, barely touching her lips with his just a fraction of an inch away. All while still pressing himself against her again and again.

She moaned, drawing closer to orgasm as he kept to his mindless not-quite kisses for what seemed like forever, not letting her pull away or catch her breath the entire time their bodies rose and fell together.

His kisses grew bolder, more insistent. Strong hands pulled her closer while his mouth and tongue seemed to consume her, demanding a response. He didn’t give her a chance to think, would only allow her to feel. And boy, could she feel. Sensations slammed into her, each more wonderful than the last, turning her whole body into mush.

Lightning-fast heat flared, sizzling along extremities to end at fingers and toes, setting her on fire. Any thought of challenge vanished. Need and want overwhelmed her. The desire to have him inside her took precedent. She hastily undid his shorts, releasing his full arousal, and touched him, allowing her fingers to have their fill.

His fingers touched in return. Stroked. Caressed. Ignited more fire in her belly.

“Take off your shorts. Hurry.”

The sense of urgency in his command had her quickly shedding the unwanted clothing. Somehow she was able to pull his shorts free as well. She looked down, spying her blouse and bra open, and had no idea of when he’d unfastened them. His lips and tongue found hers again.

Claire moaned into his mouth. The pleasure washing over her because of those fast hands and amazing lips was too intense. He knew exactly where to touch . . . exactly how to kiss.

While he expertly fondled her breasts, molding, squeezing, adding to the heat building inside her, she groped, found him, and then guided him toward her. Now that he was fully inside her, she was suddenly taking the ride of her life. She felt each stroke, each one impaling her deeper than the last. She leaned back in his lap, bearing the ecstasy with every thrust, too caught up to do anything else. The mindless, exquisite torture went on and on.

Then Jason stilled his plunges to a slow rhythmic sliding in and out, and drew her closer. Taking her mouth with his, his tongue and lips explored. She never knew such sensual tension could emerge from kissing alone. She moaned aloud, so totally aroused . . . on the brink. He kept her there, backing off when she got close to the precipice.

Finally, he released her lips. His mouth and tongue laved and nipped a trail to her breasts, where he spent luscious moments kissing and biting. He began thrusting again, this time with more force.

Claire couldn’t hold on to the pleasure as it burst from her soul in one big eruption. Sensation after sensation flooded through her in waves of sheer bliss. Jason’s loud groan resonated against her skin as she felt his release.

Chapter 30

Jason felt a sense of loss when Claire finally sat up. His hands stopped her from going too far. “I suppose you’re proud of yourself,” he whispered once he could think clearly.

She leaned back and gazed into his eyes. “A little,” she replied in a breathless voice. “I met my objective.”

Grinning, he tugged her forward for a kiss and spent lazy minutes working on her mouth. The split second he hardened inside her, he broke free. He had no intention of staying in this uncomfortable position any longer than necessary. The lady set his blood on fire, and he wasn’t sure he could control the sudden urge to have her again.

“You met your objective?” His hands moved gently over her back, stroking. He chuckled. “We just made love on a frickin’ chair. That was your objective?”

“For your information, it was never my plan to make love on a chair.”

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me.”

She gave him a sly look. “I only wanted to leave you hot and bothered.”

“I’m still hot and bothered.”

He nuzzled her chin, trailing his mouth and tongue along her jawline until she fully opened, exposing her neck. Then he kissed his way to her ear, sucking and laving. When she moaned, his tongue plundered.

Finally, he whispered, “Care for an encore?”

“We’re still on the chair.” The words came out in breathy little puffs of air.

“You complaining?”

“No! It sounded like you were.”

The teasing quality in her voice had him grinning into her neck.

He broke contact and leaned back, eyeing her with amusement. The joke was on him, though, because seeing that flushed face with full lips begging to be kissed made him realize he was in a precarious position. If he didn’t get off this chair fast, they’d be at it again.

He bent his legs to push off the chair and stood, gripping Claire tightly.

“What are you doing?” She giggled, clutching his arms.

“Wrap your legs around me and hold on. Think we can make it all the way upstairs?”

“Put me down!” She squealed, giggling harder. “I’m heavy.”

“You’re gonna fall if you don’t hang on.”

Her legs encircled securely around his middle as she seized his neck with locking fingers. Her unrestrained laughter sent signals directly to his groin, letting him feel every step he took.

Finally, he made it to the bedroom, running the last ten steps before falling onto the big, sprawling bed with her still wrapped around him. He caught her eye, and they both dissolved into fits of laughter.

Soon the laughter died. She looked at him. The desire mirrored in that heated jade gaze had him filling her. He couldn’t stop his hands from plowing through that glorious thick hair. He bent his head and caught her lips with his, nipping and sucking. In moments, he was no longer in control as his hips pumped of their own volition. He felt every thrust being gripped tighter before finally following her into another explosive orgasm.

When Jason could think again, he planted his upper body on his elbows and lifted off her, taking the majority of his weight with him. Rolling onto his side, he moved them both without breaking contact. He found he wanted the connection.

Claire expelled a soft breath as her head landed into that perfect spot on his shoulder.

He was too sated to move. Still, he couldn’t stop from hugging her, and ran his fingers languidly up and down her arms because of this urge to touch her. For long moments, he did nothing but stroke. Her skin felt so soft, so tender.

With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes.

• • •

Claire must have fallen asleep again because the next thing she knew, Jason had lifted her and was carrying her toward his bathroom.

Candles lit the darkened room, casting shadows over the walls. Brown paper covered the floor, protecting their earlier handiwork.

He moved to sit with her on the edge of the whirlpool tub. Steam rose from the bubble-filled water, adding a sauna-like warmth to the room.

Confused, she glanced questioningly at him. Seeing nothing in his expression, she squirmed.

“What . . . ?”

His finger rested on her lips.

“Shush. Don’t think. Just feel,” he whispered, pivoting while she sat in his lap. He planted his feet before slowly sinking with her into the tub, submersing them both in the warmth.

Their slow, languid lovemaking gave her no choice but to obey his soft command.

They thoroughly christened his bathtub, then drank wine and made more love. For the rest of the night, Claire felt everything and then some.

Chapter 31

While driving home early Monday morning, Claire only vaguely remembered the events of the past forty hours because a shroud of pleasure coated the memory. Her body felt sore, a good sore that meant she’d gotten a good workout. And boy, what a workout.

Carl had always been more than a satisfactory lover, yet he never required anything more than physical response. Jason required everything, took everything, and gave back even more.

He was sensual, loving, and full of surprises. From the moment they’d made love in that chair, he’d kept her up, as if she’d been on some kind of sexual drug.

Their parting had been bittersweet. When he’d leaned over to kiss her good-bye through the window of her car, a pang of disappointment had hit her. She hadn’t wanted to leave, and he hadn’t wanted her to. But they both needed space. And time.

After stepping into her house, she saw the light flashing on her answering machine. She hit the button and headed for her bedroom while listening to Crystal’s clear voice.

“Where are you, and why aren’t you picking up your cell? I thought we could do lunch. Call me.”

She felt her pocket, pulled her cell phone out, and turned it on. The voice mail signal blinked back.

While walking past the mirror, she caught her reflection. A Mona Lisa smile lit her face, one she couldn’t seem to hold back. That wasn’t the only thing she noticed. A stranger gazed back at her—a totally satisfied stranger.

Hugging herself, she walked on air to her closet to change for work. She didn’t need a shower. She and Jason had tried his out this morning. It worked.

An hour later, Claire sat at her desk and punched in Crystal’s cell number.

“It’s about time you called me back.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Hope he was cute.”

“How do you know a guy’s involved?” Claire set her cup of coffee on the desk and leaned back, then smiled when Crystal sighed heavily into the phone.

“First, you weren’t home all weekend.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I only left one message, but I called several times. Last one at two thirty this morning.”

“I could’ve been on my boat.”

“No. Then you would’ve answered your cell and called me back. Which brings me to reason number two. Only one reason to turn off your cell, and that’s if you don’t want to be interrupted. I can only think of one reason for that. A man. I just hope it wasn’t Carl.”

“No. He’s definitely history.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Why were you looking for me?”

“I don’t know. I felt like talking. When I couldn’t get a hold of you, it became an obsession.”

“Still wanna talk?” Claire asked, feeling like doing some talking of her own.

They set a time and place for lunch that day, and she hung up.

• • •

When Claire arrived at the restaurant, Crystal wasn’t there yet. “I’ll have a glass of your house red,” she said, sitting in the chair the waiter pulled out and thinking of Jason. As he’d predicted, she’d acquired a taste for a glass of wine with meals.

The smile she still sported broadened when the waiter placed a glass of the dark red liquid in front of her. She sighed and looked around, wondering why everything seemed brighter.

“You look happy.”

She glanced up at Crystal’s voice as her sister pulled out a chair across from her and sat.

Crystal gave her a sly grin. “He must be good in the sack to bring out that satisfied smile.”

“Does it show?” Claire asked, holding on to her smile.

“A little. But that’s because when I look at you, it’s like looking into a mirror. I know all the signals.”

The waiter appeared behind Crystal, and she gave him a cursory nod. “I’ll have Buffalo Trace on the rocks.” When he left, Crystal’s expectant gaze moved to hers. “You gonna tell me who?” she finally prodded.

“Not yet.” Claire hugged herself. “It’s still too new.” She reached out and fingered the stem of her glass, and then glanced up at Crystal, noticing the small gleam in her eye. “You seem pretty satisfied yourself.”

“Maybe. But it was only instant gratification. Nothing permanent.”

“You sure?”

Claire eyed her critically. There seemed to be something in her sister’s gaze that sent a rush of sadness through her. Then she shrugged. Not Crystal. “Too bad. He sounded sexy.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t.”

They spent a few minutes discussing business, moving on to chitchat.

The waiter brought Crystal’s drink and took their order before leaving.

After depleting the list of small talk, Claire cleared her throat. “I’m glad you called. I’m glad we’re meeting.”

“Oh?” Crystal’s smile widened. “I see you got a hold of Jason. You’ve obviously been talking to him.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know. Process of elimination. There’s the fact that you called asking for his address. And now you seem different. More open with me. A chat with him might’ve cleared up a few things between us.”

“We talked and he had some interesting things to say.” She lifted a shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. Lowering her gaze, she fidgeted with her wine again, keeping her focus centered on it, while feeling her twin’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Oh, my God! He’s the guy, isn’t he?” Crystal shrieked after her silent observation.

“Now you’re prying.” She fiddled with her hair while fighting to keep her feelings from showing in her expression.

“Now I know I’m right.” Crystal laughed. “This is too much. Did you spend the weekend with him?”

Claire took a sip of wine, hiding her embarrassment behind her glass. But after spying Crystal’s amused grin, she realized she hadn’t succeeded.

“Is it that obvious?” Her smile tugged free and she finally gave up all pretenses.

“Only to me. Way to go, CeeGee!”

In a flash, Claire’s smile diminished and pain shot out from some hidden spot buried deep within her at the use of the old nickname, another past game they used to play, referring to each other by their initials, mainly to confuse those around them.

“What happened to us?” she whispered, meeting her twin’s laughing eyes . . . eyes identical to hers.

Crystal sighed and her hand covered Claire’s, squeezing. “Growing pains?” She broke eye connection and stared silently at her drink before looking up. Their stares locked again. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve missed you.”

“You have?” Warmth spread from Crystal’s hand that still covered hers.

“Yes. At least once I got over being so angry with you. Unfortunately that took two years too many.” She hesitated. “I never came on to Carl.”

Claire knew her sister spoke the truth. The honesty in that gaze wouldn’t let her believe anything else.

“I swear it,” Crystal insisted. “I would die before doing something to hurt you like that. How could I hurt my perfect half?”

“Really?”

Tears welled up. Claire felt far from perfect right then, and couldn’t keep meeting Crystal’s earnest gaze. Not when the part she owned in their separation dawned on her so clearly.

“I should’ve known you couldn’t. I’m sorry.” Claire swallowed the lump in her throat. “Jealousy’s so ugly, isn’t it?” she said, realizing once she voiced the thought out loud, that was exactly what she’d been. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“What for?”

“For hurting you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Crystal said. “I can’t say it didn’t hurt when you took his word over mine. I spent too long pretending it didn’t matter, but I was only kidding myself. It did. Still, I shouldn’t have let it keep me from trying to explain or trying to make you see. Because of that, he almost won.”

“Yes, but he didn’t. We’re here.”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Claire nodded. It also dawned on her just then that her sister’s wild, bold, and unpredictable behavior held some merit. Jason hadn’t been expecting her. Maybe he would have tracked her down. But then their lovemaking, not to mention their relationship, might have taken on a different form. As it was, she owned part of the decision, and she savored the feeling of power it gave her.

Another flash of intuition struck. “So that’s why you do it,” she murmured.

“Do what?”

“Nothing.” Claire smiled warmly and placed her other hand over Crystal’s, which was still on top of hers. “Let’s promise never to let things come between us again, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s drink on it.”

They clinked glasses, and Claire lifted her wine to her lips. “Jason told me about your scheme,” she said after taking a sip. “I guess I owe you. I also owe you for that clause.” She placed the wine on the table and sighed. “I never thanked you properly.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

Crystal swirled her bourbon and eyed her speculatively. She tossed down the rest of the drink. Then, turning to the waiter who had approached with their meal, she nodded to her empty glass. “Can you bring me an iced tea?”

Glancing back at her, Crystal explained. “I have a deposition this afternoon, and I need at least one drink or I won’t be able to endure it. Two and I can’t work.” Then she asked, “What’s with you and Jason?”

Claire waited until the waiter placed their lunches on the table and left, and then said, “I don’t know. It’s still kind of new.”

“I envy you. He’s a great guy.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Um-hmm. He’s what I call prime beef.”

“I have to agree,” Claire replied, laughing. “When I first met him, I thought you two were an item.”

“I tried. I could tell he was attracted, but he wasn’t interested in me. I’m a little too garish for his sensibilities.” She chuckled. “But I have to tell you, I got a real kick out of trying.”

The idea of Crystal shocking Jason bounced around inside her mind’s eye. Laughter sprang free at the thought of his reaction.

“Since we’re being honest here, I’ll confess, I was a bit jealous,” she admitted once her laughter died. “So now that I’ve filled you in on Jason, care to tell me about your mystery guy? He sounded sexy over the phone. Also sounded like more than just a casual night of lovemaking to me.”

“No! That’s all it was. A great night with a great lover.” Crystal accepted the iced tea from the waiter.

Something in her sister’s tone alerted her.

“Why’d you call?” After taking a bite, Claire looked up. She chewed thoughtfully, keeping her attention on her twin.

“To talk.”

“Like when we were younger?” Yep, there was something in Crystal’s expression.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I felt the urge to talk, so I called. Nothing else to it.”

“You used to only want to talk when you were upset.”

“Stop doing that! I’m not upset.”

“What’s his name?” Unconvinced, Claire reached for her water, still eyeing her sister.

Crystal reached out to wipe at the moisture dripping from her glass with a napkin. “You don’t know him,” she finally said, and expelled a long breath. “I should’ve never let him in. Now he’s inside my head again, driving me nuts. I should’ve known better.”

“Maybe you should talk. Get it all out.”

“Why? Won’t change anything.”

“Sounds like you care about him.”

“I used to.”

“Still do.” Claire held up her head, daring her sister to refute this.

“How do you do that? Even after three years?” Crystal laughed. “God, I hate it that you know me so well.”

“Ditto.” She grinned back and nodded. “So, spill.”

Crystal’s attention returned to her iced tea. She fingered the glass, studying it intently for a long while before she spoke again. “You know half the things I used to pull, I did for attention, the other half simply to keep you off-balance.”

“Why would you want to keep me off-balance? I’ve always wondered.” Claire’s expression sobered. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“I never could. You were always so accepting,” Crystal murmured, lost in thought. “Until the incident with Carl.” Her attention then moved to her plate. She stirred food around, took a bite of chicken salad, and chewed while contemplating.

Finally, Crystal blurted, “I was so stupid. God! This is all his fault. I never should have slept with him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. How could you? You know, Jimbo’s the only other person—besides you—that I couldn’t rattle. But unlike you, he saw through my bullshit. Didn’t let me get away with it.”

“Crystal, you aren’t making sense. Who’s Jimbo?” Then comprehension set in and she grinned. “You don’t mean Jim O’Malley, do you? Is he the guy you slept with?”

“You know him?”

“Of him.” Claire nodded. “That answers one question. Now, answer this. What’s he got to do with us?”

“Everything.” Crystal sighed. “You remember when we were sixteen and you were in that car accident?”

Nodding slowly, Claire struggled to figure out where Crystal was going. Yes, she remembered, though she spent years pushing the memories of the most horrible time in her life away.

Claire had broken her back and had lain in traction for months. Everyone treated her differently after that, even her twin. Like fragile Dresden china that would break again if not handled properly. That was also the point where she and Crystal started fighting more—the beginning of the end, as she’d coined it. Why would she bring it all up again?

“I still don’t understand? What has the past got to do with us right now, or this guy?”

“You got so much attention. I tried not to care. I mean, how selfish could I get?” Crystal asked, as if she hadn’t heard her question. “You were in intensive care for two weeks. You were part of me and you almost died. That alone scared the hell out of me. But you didn’t die. Instead, you came home. And suddenly I didn’t exist anymore for Mom and Dad. Everything went to you. One day we’re together, getting all the attention, and the next, I’m left all alone with nothing. At least, that’s how it felt.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed as she absorbed Crystal’s confession. The pain she glimpsed etched into her twin’s features hit her with force.

She’d been the selfish one, only thinking of the accident in terms of how it had affected her. Never once had she thought of how it had affected her sister. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears as Crystal continued speaking.

“I remember the night my course changed. Same night I got drunk with Billy Perkins and came home late. Dad went ballistic and Mom cried. All of a sudden, I was back in their sights.”

Crystal took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The haunted expression left her face, turning to one of indulgent amusement.

“I never did anything with Billy. And I quickly grew tired of his macho, bad-boy moves, but I loved the attention I got when people thought I’d been with him. From that point on, I got off on shocking people. You were the only person I couldn’t shock. The more I tried, the nicer you got.”

“Seems you’ve figured a few things out in your old age,” Claire murmured as regret made itself at home.

Crystal snorted. “It’s amazing what a few sessions in a shrink’s office will do to help straighten out some of those curved roads we take in life.”

“I’m sorry.”

What else could she say? Maybe if she’d found her backbone and stood up to everyone, including her twin, things might have ended with a different outcome. As it played out, she’d passively stayed married to a jerk, while Crystal kept people at a distance with her shocking behavior. So much wasted time.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Crystal said sadly. “I’m not proud of the way I handled everything.”

“You were only sixteen, reacting to emotion. How could you handle it any differently?”

“Maybe. Seems kind of futile to point fingers now, though. I can’t fault Mom and Dad. They were being parents, giving to the child who needed it most. Besides, I was just as worried as they were. Those nights we sat waiting when we didn’t know whether you’d wake up took their toll. Changed all of us.” Crystal sighed. “I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past year. I like who I’ve become, and I’ll probably always like shocking people.”

Claire’s lips curled wistfully at the statement. She’d learned a few things herself. “Where does Jimbo fit into all of this? I take it he hurt you.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“He accepted the real me. Just like you did.” A regretful smile crossed Crystal’s face. “I always got this feeling that I amused the hell out of him, which made me try harder to shock him. He waded past all my bullshit, fielded my barbs, and just plumb wore me down. I fell hard for him. I’m pretty sure he felt the same way. Then he found the stuff I’d collected on Carl for you.”

“And?” Claire prodded when she stopped talking and continued eating.

“And he confronted me. He was livid, threw it all in my face, believing everything.”

“Crystal, those photos were pretty incriminating, as was the rest of your evidence. I’m your sister, and I believed it.”

“It needed to be incriminating for Carl to go down.”

“Did you talk to Jimbo? Try to explain?”

Crystal nodded. “We had this horrible fight. I couldn’t make him listen, and I couldn’t take his accusing stare. It was you all over again. I thought he knew me, really knew me. He should’ve, but he didn’t believe in me. It hurt. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

Her sister broke off and took a drink. Staring straight ahead, she murmured, “I don’t think I’m cut out for love. It’s a little too painful for my taste.”

“Wow.” The word seemed so trite, but Claire had no other.

She’d always thought of Crystal as being hard as stone. Looking at her now, realization sank in. It was all an act. The hardness protected a soft inner core that seemed more fragile than hers.

“Think of all you miss out on if you don’t love.”

“Like a man who doesn’t believe in you,” Crystal said harshly, “or a cheating bastard of a husband?”

“Okay,” she conceded, and then added, wanting nothing more than to take away the pain in Crystal’s voice, “Carl’s actions hurt, but Jason’s not like that. If I cut off all feelings, it means Carl’s won. I won’t let him affect me any longer.”

“You were always better than me. Softer. I can’t be like that. I wish I could.” Crystal remained silent. Then she planted a smile on her face. “I think we’ve cleared the air enough to breathe easier with each other, so let’s talk about something else.”

Claire nodded and they finished their meal, staying off the subject of men.

Chapter 32

Later that afternoon, Claire breezed into her office while thoughts of Crystal and their conversation played over and over in her brain.

“You’re back!” Gwen popped her head in. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” She offered a warm smile. “What’s up?”

“Just wondered where you’d disappeared to.” Gwen moved to sit on the edge of the desk. “Thought we were going to take a leisurely lunch like we always do once everything’s finally put to bed.”

“Had lunch with Crystal. Then did some shopping,” she replied. “You weren’t in your office when I left, otherwise I’d have invited you. Sorry.”

“No biggie. I grabbed something quick.” Gwen broke off, glancing away with a shrug. “Besides, Crystal and I don’t mix well. You know that.”

“She’s not so bad, once you wade through all the muck. I’m sorry about lunch,” Claire said, eyeing Gwen thoughtfully and noticing the subdued expression. A trickle of guilt washed over her. “Why don’t we do it tomorrow?”

“That’d be great.” Gwen picked up a paperweight. Tossing it back and forth, she remained quiet, her focus on the heavy object. “You and Crystal must be getting along better if you’re doing lunch. Didn’t you have lunch with her last week?”

“We did and we are.” Claire sighed and leaned back against the chair. “It feels good to be able to talk to her again. I’ve really missed her.”

“I don’t trust her.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you had such a strong opinion.”

Gwen shrugged. “I don’t think you should trust her either.”

“She’s my sister, my twin even. Why wouldn’t I trust her?”

“I just wouldn’t. And you know darn well why.”

“Crystal’s changed,” Claire replied evasively, unwilling to delve into the problems she and her sister shared.

“How can you forget so easily what she did? The woman had an affair with your husband, for crying out loud.”

“She explained all that.”

Gwen frowned. “And you believed her? You haven’t been close in years, and now you’re suddenly having lunch with her. I get stood up while you waltz off with someone who’s been absent from your life for the past three years.”

“I said I was sorry about lunch.”

“I’m not talking about lunch. I stopped by your house on Friday night. But you weren’t home.” Gwen shrugged. “No biggie. I mean, our plans aren’t set in stone.”

“Damn. I’m sorry! I completely forgot.”

No wonder Gwen was upset. How could she forget their usual celebratory get-together once a new catalog went to press? And to make matters worse, she’d blown off lunch too.

“I wasn’t with Crystal on Friday night,” Claire said. “It probably won’t make you feel any better to know I had a date. Went to dinner with Jason Roberts.”

“Really?” Gwen’s smile returned. “A date? With Jason Roberts? Wow. What about Carl? He’s really history?”

“Yes, and he has been for weeks.”

“I know. But usually he worms his way back.” When Claire’s eyebrows rose, Gwen added, “Christmas two years ago, Labor Day last year, and a couple of months ago. And those are just the last three times you sought me out, telling me much the same thing. I called Saturday too. When you weren’t home, I figured you probably made up.”

“Well, we didn’t.” She sighed and shook her head. “I guess I did give him a lot of chances, didn’t I? What a fool.”

“Don’t feel too bad. From my vantage point, Carl was the master at manipulation. He seemed to know exactly which button to push.”

“I guess. Thank God those buttons don’t work any longer.” She laughed, feeling light-headed and free all of a sudden. “Why don’t we go for a drink tonight? I’ll tell you all about my weekend and how I learned to tile.”

“You tiled?”

“Sure did.”

“You’re on.” Gwen grinned and pushed away from the desk. “This I’ve got to hear.”

Sporting a silly expression, Claire watched her leave. She could easily talk about tile. Making love with Jason, on the other hand, was something she’d keep to herself.

Her smile grew from ear to ear as her mind filled with him. She sighed, wondering when she’d see him again.

Chapter 33

Deputy Tom Snyder poured a cup of coffee wondering if any leads had turned up on his John Doe during his day off. Tuesdays were the start of his work week, and today looked to be a busy one. Carrying a file, he was walking toward his desk just as his phone rang. He slumped into his swivel chair and picked up the phone.

Recognizing the caller ID, he said, “Snyder here. Whatcha got?”

As he listened, his jaw tautened and his back stiffened. “Thanks.” He frowned. “I’ll start digging into his life; find out who and why someone would stab him and dump his body off Key Largo.”

He hung up. “Damn. Just what I need,” he grumbled. The body of a man who lived and worked two counties away was found in his jurisdiction. Wasn’t going to be easy sorting through his life.

Ken Watson walked into the station. “Hey, Snyder. What’s up?”

He grunted a greeting to the other deputy. “Shit’s hit the fan. Got a positive ID on our John Doe. Name’s Carl Carter. Wife was in here couple of weeks ago. You remember that case I had Reynolds following up on?”

“Yeah. So the guy was actually missing?” Watson filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee and leaned against the desk.

“No. From all signs, Carter set it up so it would appear that way.” Snyder shook his head and tossed the file toward the other deputy. “Strange case. And now he shows up dead.”

After setting his coffee down, Watson picked up the file and flipped through it.

“Looks like a slam dunk.” He closed the manila folder and dropped it back on the desktop. “My money’s on the wife. If he set her up, there’s your motive.”

“Don’t know what to believe till I take a closer look. Something tells me this case has layers and will take some digging.”

“That bad, huh?” Watson grabbed his coffee and headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, “If you need help, holler. I’m outta here for the next week, but I’d be happy to postpone my time off for an interesting case.”

Snyder heaved a sigh and watched him leave. Then he leaned over, snatching the file with one hand while seizing the receiver with the other. Next, he punched in Claire Carter’s work number.

She answered right away.

“Mrs. Carter? This is Deputy Snyder with the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you, but I haven’t had any luck locating Carl.”

“That’s what I’m calling about, ma’am.”

“Oh?”

“I need you to come down to the station.”

“This can’t be handled over the phone?”

“No. I’d prefer we talked in person.”

“Is this about Carl?”

“I’d rather not say over the phone.”

“You’ll have to if you expect me to make the long drive.”

He sighed, reached for a pen off the desk, and started clicking it.

“Deputy? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m just trying to figure out a way to word my news.”

“I prefer the direct approach.”

“Okay. Then I’m afraid I have bad news. Dental records confirm the body we found as that of Carl Carter.”

The line went dead silent, and he waited.

“Ma’am?” More seconds of silence ticked by. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry to tell you like that, but you insisted.”

“I see.”

After another moment of silence, he said, “Ma’am?”

“I assume you’ll need to question me?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s the other reason I’d like you to drive down. Preferably as soon as possible.”

They set up a time for later that afternoon and said their good-byes.

After disconnecting, Snyder threw the pen aside and rubbed his face with both hands. Leaning back into his chair, he kicked his feet up on the desk.

“Definitely gonna be more work,” he muttered unhappily.

Chapter 34

Claire stared at the receiver without seeing anything. Carl dead? How? Why? Every nerve ending in her body prickled as a foreboding sensation swept over her. Her heart rate soared.

She reached for the phone again, punched in Jason’s number, and wiped clammy hands on her slacks.

“I was wondering when I’d speak to you again.”

Too upset to respond to the subtle suggestive nuances in his voice, she blurted, “Snyder just called. They’ve identified the body. It’s Carl’s, and the deputy wants to question me. I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to help me.”

“Calm down and tell me what happened.” All innuendo gone, Jason’s tone was now all business.

“You tell me to calm down when Carl’s dead and I get this feeling Snyder thinks I had something to do with it?” By this point she was yelling into the phone, becoming more agitated as she spoke.

“You don’t know what he thinks, and getting upset won’t solve anything.”

Jason’s composed reassuring voice took the edge off her concern. Still, she couldn’t quite quash the idea that she had reason to worry.

“You’re the one who told me they suspect spouses first when there’s foul play.”

“We don’t even know if foul play’s involved.”

“But what if it is?”

“It’s still routine procedure, and that’s all. Tell me exactly what he said.”

“So, what do you think?” she asked after relaying her conversation with Snyder.

Claire flexed her shoulders as some of the tension left her body. After rolling her head from side to side, she took a deep breath. The longer she talked, the calmer and more relaxed she felt.

“We meet with him. Go from there. I’ll clear my schedule. What time?”

“Later this afternoon. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“No. I’m your lawyer, remember?”

She laughed. “I fired you, remember?” Though it sounded forced, laughing was definitely better than crying.

“Yeah, but I figured you changed your mind after this weekend.”

That comment earned a genuine smile. She leaned back and sighed. Jason wouldn’t let her down. She could depend on him.

“I guess I did.”

It felt wonderful to let someone else in and share her problems. For too long, she’d lived life totally alone because she never shared anything of her inner turmoil with Carl. He’d use it as a weapon against her, so she’d kept her feelings locked inside. Still, she would never wish him dead. She’d been just as much at fault for allowing her marriage to disintegrate.

When she hung up the phone, Claire felt somewhat relieved and went back to work. Yet, the idea of Carl’s dead body washing up along the shore lingered. No matter how she tried to push away the thoughts, they wouldn’t budge.

When the time came, Claire stepped outside and spotted Jason’s car pulling into the lot. Hot, humid air hit her face. Immediately, warmth seeped into her skin, heating her cold insides. All afternoon, icy fear had been a constant companion.

“Prompt as always,” he said after she hopped inside his Mercedes.

“I try to be.” Though she worked to sound jovial, her voice fell far short of the mark.

“You okay?”

Sliding the seatbelt into place, she blinked back tears at the concern in his tone and nodded, too afraid she’d fall apart if she spoke.

Jason’s hand went to her chin, lifting it so she could see his expression. Those gentle fingers slid up and down her face before he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss.

“I’m here.” He placed a warm hand over hers, and immediately heat engulfed it. “We’ll deal with this together.”

Again, she could only nod as he put the car in gear. As he drove, Claire remained silent with her eyes focused in front of her.

Except for Jason’s directives to let him handle things, and for her to follow his lead during their questioning, neither spoke again for the ninety-minute trip south.

• • •

They made good time, beating rush hour traffic by mere minutes. Jason switched off the engine and glanced at Claire with eyebrows raised. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

He got out of the car and walked swiftly to her side before she could get halfway out. He heard her sigh. The fragility he noted on that first day was back. There was nothing he could do other than wrap his arms around her and hold her close in an effort to comfort her.

Not surprisingly, she clung to him.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, leaning back. His worried gaze sought hers.

“I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and straightened. “I remember when the last time we were here and you hurried around to open my door, it irritated me. Now I thank God you’re here.”

“Hold on to that thought. I may irritate you again, because I’m not going away.”

Keeping his arm around her shoulders, Jason slammed the car door. Claire leaned into him as he led her toward the station.

“Remember, I want you to follow my cues while we’re in there. Look for my nod before you answer any question.” His tone held more warning than their earlier conversation on the matter.

“Why? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Her eyes grew to the size of quarters. “You think I have something to worry about?”

“I’m thinking as a lawyer now. As such, I’m merely going with a worst-case scenario. That way we’re prepared and can meet this head on.”

A pretty receptionist directed them to go on back. Deputy Snyder sat at the same drab table in the same drab room. He stood as they got to the door.

“Come on in.” He pulled out two chairs. “Have a seat. I really appreciate your cooperation.”

“Thanks.” Jason led Claire to one chair and then took the other. “What can you tell us about Carl Carter’s death?”

“That’s my question.” The deputy sighed. “Not much to tell yet. So far, all I got is a dead body that washed ashore. One of a man who went to great lengths to plan his disappearance only weeks before, no matter how ineptly he’d handled it.”

“And COD?”

“It’s in the report,” Snyder said, indicating the brown folder in his hands. He tossed the file toward Jason. “Take a look.”

“What is it you need from my client?” Jason asked, though he already had a good idea. He picked up the file and flipped through the pages, reading the parts he needed to read and skimming the rest.

“Standard questions,” Snyder murmured as he turned on a tape recorder. “Whereabouts on the days in question, relationship to the deceased. If she might know of any reason someone would stab him and dump his body. That sort of thing. Plus, I’d like permission to inspect your home.”

He broke off and looked at Claire. “And I’d like to take another look at your boat. I can get a court order if you say no. It’ll take me longer, so I’m hoping you’ll agree. I’ll also be going through electronic files.”

“We see no problem with your requests,” Jason replied, looking up from the report.

Chapter 35

The woman paced the room and fought to rein in her temper.

Stupid men! What did they see in Claire Carter?

Even Carl hadn’t hidden the fact that, in the end, he preferred Claire over her. The more she thought about that last time she’d seen Carl, the more frenzied her movements became. He’d laughed at her and had spewed his venomous comparisons. That night she realized her horrible error in trusting him.

Remembering it all now, her rage built. She could still hear his voice, mocking her.

“Do you really think you’re worth all of this?” he’d said. “You were the means to an end. Once that end’s met, you’re history.”

How dare that bastard tell her she was fun while it lasted! That even if their plans had worked out, she couldn’t expect him to settle for her.

That news had been bad enough. She’d lost it when he told her he was going back to his precious Claire, and to what?

Beg?

What did he take her for? Stupid? Yeah, stupid.

He’d actually used those words. “Look who’s the stupid one now! Look who’s getting away with murder!”

Still, she hadn’t wanted to kill Carl. She’d loved him for too long to want him dead. So she’d tried to give him one last chance.

“Keep to the plans, darling, and it will all be yours.”

He’d only laughed harder and had pushed her away, jeering, “It already is, you bitch. I don’t need you. I’ve been formulating a new plan. I’m outta here.”

She couldn’t let him get away with humiliating her again.

When she’d felt the drugs in her pocket, it hit her. She’d offered him a provocative smile while reaching for him, knowing he’d never turn down sex.

“Since this is it,” she’d murmured, rubbing her hand over his now bulging erection. “How about a quickie for old times’ sake.”

Like a multitude of other times, their mating had been hot, fast, and thoroughly satisfying.

She sighed, almost wishing she hadn’t had to kill such a great lover.

Drugging him had been as easy as placing the tasteless powder in a glass of bourbon. Her victory must have shown in her face when he met her eyes after drinking half the contents of his glass.

“What’d you do?” he’d asked with a wary expression.

“You obviously think I’m as stupid as your wife,” she’d hissed, unable to stop her face from showing the hatred she’d felt at that moment. “Since you were going to cut me out, I’ve also changed plans. What I need is a body.”

“Then we should kill Claire, and I’ll come forward. Make it look like someone has it out for both of us. It’s perfect.”

She’d laughed at his attempts to appease her. He’d really believed he could talk her out of it. Killing such a bastard had actually offered some gratification.

“Too late. The original plan was better,” she’d said. “With you dead and Claire as the killer, I can gain control of everything.”

“Without me, you don’t have a prayer.” His voice thickened as awareness that he’d been drugged set in. His look changed to horror. “You’ll never get away with it.”

“Oh? I disagree. Without you, I’ll have a hundred percent and no asshole telling me what to do, while screwing me literally as well as figuratively.” She’d watched him struggle, feeling powerful.

“Such a waste,” she said under her breath as her thoughts returned to more pressing problems.

Though things had gone as planned so far, she hadn’t taken into account Jason Roberts and his involvement.

In a burst of anger, she swiped her hand across the table with force, knocking several piles of papers on the floor. Bending over to pick them up only made her angrier as she straightened and slapped the piles back in place.

What was it about Claire that drew men like flies? The guy should be running in the opposite direction.

“I’ll have to take care of that,” she said softly as her pacing increased.

Chapter 36

Jason stretched and glanced at the clock on the wall of the interview room. Two hours had passed since they’d sat down. His gaze moved to Claire. She looked frazzled and worn out. All color had left her face a while ago.

“That about wraps it up for now.” Snyder turned off the tape recorder and rose from the table. “I may need to talk again once my investigation gets under way. I appreciate your cooperation.”

“Come on.” Jason stood and grabbed her hands. “You’re freezing.” He rubbed her icy fingers to add some of his warmth.

“I’m okay,” she said, pulling out of his grasp while hugging herself, as if warding off the cold. “I just want to go home.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. Again, he was reminded of how fragile she seemed as she leaned into him.

Keeping a light hand at the small of her back, he gently guided her through the door, feeling the tension in her body. Her stiff posture and tight expression as they walked toward his Mercedes worried him. She looked ready to come apart at the seams.

“Relax. It’s over for now.”

“He thinks I did it.”

Jason barely heard her whispered words.

“You’re a lead, Claire.” He sighed. “We expected that. So don’t go reading anything into the interview. We’ll get through this.”

He opened the car, waiting until she was seated before he rushed around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat. In minutes, he turned onto the main highway, heading north.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.” When she didn’t argue, he added, “I’ll drive to my place, pick up some clothes and things. Then we’ll spend the night at your house.”

When they pulled up to his house, Jason left Claire in the car, and once inside, pulled out his cell phone and punched in Jimbo’s number.

“What’s up?” the investigator said.

“Find anything yet?”

“Give me a little time, would you?”

“I’m worried. We don’t have a lot of time. Someone’s setting Claire up, and I need to find out who and why before Snyder decides he’s got enough circumstantial evidence to arrest her. Motive’s a little weak, but if an overzealous DA gets a hold of this, he could have a field day.”

“Takes time to sift through a person’s shit, especially Carter’s.”

“What have you got so far?”

“Not much. I’m workin’ on several angles. One of his bookies I talked to wasn’t exactly pleased with Carter. But bookies generally don’t kill people who owe them. Maim maybe, but not kill. Checked out some of those nubile young things’ numbers, but those were mostly one-night stands. All had the same comment. He was good at sex, but little else.”

“There’s got to be something we’re missing.”

“It’s well hidden. He’s no angel and his past is full of tawdry people, but none with a motive to kill. Nothing makes sense so far.”

“It makes sense to someone. Someone hated him enough to stab him and dump his body, pointing fingers at Claire. Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble.” Jason paused. “What about Crystal?”

“What about her?”

“Have you looked into her? Cleared her?”

“No. And I’m not going to.”

“Why? She’s got as much motive and opportunity as Claire.” He raked a hand through his hair and started pacing. “She hated Carter. Maybe she hates Claire too. They’ve been estranged.”

“It’s not Crystal,” Jimbo stated in a much firmer voice.

“You’re quick to defend her all of a sudden. Surprising, given how last week you were so dead set against her.” Jason grabbed an overnight bag.

“A mistake I won’t be making again.” Jimbo’s voice drawled in his ear while Jason packed one-handed, filling the bag with toiletries and other needed items. “And she doesn’t hate Claire. The two were thick as thieves on Saturday morning when she called.”

“What if she planned this whole thing? Manipulated us into thinking what she wanted us to think. Throw us off guard.”

“You aren’t going to let it go, are you, Roberts?” Jimbo sighed heavily. There was a pause. “Here’s what I’ll do. Give me time of death, plus a few other details about the case, and I’ll find evidence proving neither one did it. Okay?”

Jason smiled. “You’re on. Just don’t take too long.”

Chapter 37

When they reached Claire’s place, she watched Jason hurry out of the car to open her door, taking extra time helping her out. She didn’t want to think about how much she needed his calm, silent strength. Simply knowing he was beside her added to her sense of well-being.

“Why don’t you lie down?” he suggested, propelling them both inside after she’d unlocked her front door. “I’ll fix dinner.”

“Okay, if you insist.”

The idea sounded too good to ignore. She strode purposefully for her bedroom, kicking off her shoes along the way to her bed, and Jason followed. At the double-door entrance, he dropped his bag and took a long look around.

“Feminine. Nice.”

Claire glanced about. The pale blue damask and white lace did look feminine. She offered a wan smile and a slight shrug. “I never thought about it before. I guess it is a bit girlish.”

“Not girlish. Feminine,” he murmured as he came up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her. She leaned her head against his chest and heaved a weary exhale.

“Female and all woman.” Slowly, he turned her in his arms. “Just like you. A woman I can’t seem to get enough of,” he whispered, right before his lips found hers.

Enjoying his kiss, she let the warmth his mouth generated flow through her body. For too long she’d felt cold; now all she felt was Jason. Claire’s eyelids closed. Instinctively, she stepped closer, drawn by his heat.

When he broke the kiss and started to pull away, her grip tightened.

He indicated the bed with a nod. “You should rest.”

“Don’t leave me yet.” She met his questioning gaze with an inviting smile, patting the bed. “Lie with me for a few minutes. Please?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sure. For a few minutes.” Then, sitting on the bed, he yanked off his shoes and tugged her next to him. His head hit the pillows he fluffed as he drew her near, keeping her in the circle of his arms.

Claire sighed and relaxed more fully as his soothing hands caressed her arms, adding to her sense of calm. Of its own volition, her hand went to his stomach, and she let it slide up and down his chest, feeling lean muscles bunching under her fingers. At the same time, she caught sight of his noticeable erection forming.

“Sorry,” he said into her neck. “I get within a foot of you and I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled and moved closer. “I like knowing I affect you like that.” She waited a heartbeat and added, “Wanna fool around?”

He chuckled. “Go to sleep. You’ve had a shock and you’re not thinking clearly. No way I’m going to take advantage of you like that.”

She’d definitely had a shock learning about Carl’s death. What’s more, she couldn’t rid herself of the suspicion that the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office thought she’d killed him. She didn’t want to think about any of that. Her morbid thoughts had already run their course. She couldn’t change things.

In an effort to forget, she nuzzled closer, stroking Jason.

He captured her wandering hand and gripped her wrist. “Claire?”

She opened her eyes. “What,” she asked, peering into glistening blue eyes that said it all.

“We’re not making love tonight. Is that clear?”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Later. She’d have to attack him later.

• • •

A ringing in the background cut through Claire’s consciousness, pulling her out of a sound sleep. She felt Jason stir next to her, and a rush of tenderness filled her. Then she grabbed the annoying phone.

“Hello?”

“That you, Claire?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” Claire asked, recognizing Crystal’s voice.

“Don’t be cocky. That’s my job.”

“I’m changing. Becoming more like you.” She smiled into the phone at her sister’s snort. “What’s up?” She turned and met Jason’s raised eyebrows and reality set in.

“I just heard about Carl.”

“Oh.”

Claire sat upright, leaning against the headboard as she sobered. In a flash, she remembered Carl, could picture his dead body lying on a morgue slab in Key Largo. Taking a nap with Jason so close had kept the horrible memory away.

“Yes.” Claire sighed. “He’s dead.”

“I’m worried. Want some company?”

“No. Jason’s fixing me dinner and spending the night.”

“Okay, so tonight’s covered. What about tomorrow?”

“What about it?”

“I’ll stop by the office tomorrow. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Sure,” she murmured, wondering why Crystal was so concerned all of a sudden.

Gwen’s warning came back to her, and niggling questions formed. She wasn’t used to her twin’s attention. Feeling a tad paranoid, she pushed the negative thoughts from her mind and hung up the phone after exchanging good-byes. It immediately rang again.

“Hello.”

“Claire? It’s me, Amy. I heard about Carl.” She paused for several seconds before adding, “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Amy.” A smile touched her face at the worry in her assistant’s voice. She took in a deep breath. “I really appreciate your concern. How’d you find out?”

“It was on the news. It sounded horrible. I mean, what happened to him?”

“The news?”

“Uh-huh. Big story at six o’clock. They’ll probably show it again at eleven.” She cleared her throat. “Do they have any idea who could’ve done such a thing?”

“No.” Claire sighed. “They’re investigating that now.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just gonna grab some dinner and go to bed.”

“If you need anything, anything at all, you call me. You hear?”

“Okay. I’m really glad you’re there. It helps to know you care.”

Claire placed the phone in its cradle and glanced at Jason as he stood up and headed for her kitchen.

“I’m hungry,” he said over his shoulder. “Let’s see what we can dig up.”

She followed, very happy she wasn’t alone. As long as Jason was here, she wouldn’t have to think about why someone would kill Carl.

Jason’s presence didn’t disappoint. He entertained while he foraged in her kitchen, searching for pans and compiling ingredients. He cooked the same way he sailed, like he loved it. And the scents wafting from her kitchen less than an hour later had her mouth watering.

They ate a gourmet meal of chicken, sautéed vegetables, and wild rice, and neither of them mentioned anything about Carl or what had happened to him.

That night she slept soundly, nestled snugly in Jason’s arms.

Chapter 38

The next day sped by in fast-forward for Claire, one in which she felt as if she were living a dream, nightmarish in quality.

The office was quiet except for the hushed whispers of those around her; at least, until she got to within listening distance. Then there was complete silence.

Did they think she had something to do with Carl’s murder? Of course they did, she thought when she walked into the conference room and the same thing happened again.

The silence bothered her, adding to her feeling of guilt.

“Time to cut out. Come on. I’m taking you home, and then we’re going for drinks and dinner,” Crystal said, having arrived at her office shortly before five that afternoon.

Claire balked, but she couldn’t put much effort behind it. The idea of being alone with nothing but morbid thoughts was totally unappealing. She grabbed her purse and dutifully followed her twin. Her car would be fine one more day parked in the lot.

Two county sheriff’s cars were parked at the street when Crystal pulled into her driveway. Claire jumped out of the car and ran up the walk, halting at the wide-open front door—one letting out all the cold air.

She stopped abruptly when she spied two officers in her living room, rooting through her things. “What’s going on here?”

“Investigating a murder, ma’am,” said the officer who looked as if he was in charge. He straightened and pulled out identification. “Deputy Steve Perkins. My partner, Jeff Hinders.”

The other officer nodded when Claire glanced at him.

“You’re tearing up the place.”

“Sorry. You gave your permission.”

“Come on, Claire, let’s let them do their jobs,” Crystal urged, gently tugging Claire outside.

Then her twin turned back to Perkins and said in a severe tone, “She’s cooperating fully with your investigation. If you don’t want to be kicked out and forced into a search warrant, I suggest you show some respect. At least keep the door closed.”

Crystal led Claire to her car. “We can still get that drink.”

“I need to call Jason.”

“Let’s go to my place. I’ll call on the way.”

Thank God Crystal was with her. That was Claire’s only thought as Crystal hung up after talking to Jason. She couldn’t think clearly. How could she think clearly when someone was rifling through her personal stuff, obviously looking for incriminating evidence?

“He and Jimbo are meeting us at my place. They’ll stop for pizza on the way.” She felt Crystal’s hand on her knee. “Don’t worry. They’re two of the best to have on your team.”

She sucked in a deep breath, keeping her gaze on Crystal’s hand as she squeezed. The gesture as well as her sister’s reassurance had a calming effect. She nodded.

Within minutes, she somehow found herself sitting in Crystal’s living room with a bourbon on the rocks shoved into her hand.

“Drink,” her twin commanded as she poured a hefty amount into another tumbler.

Claire took several sips. The fiery liquid burned going down but warmed her insides. After drinking half a glass, numbness set in, easing the panic she’d felt since leaving her house.

Crystal seemed satisfied with Claire’s progress. She pulled the stopper off the decanter and asked, “You want some more?”

Claire shook her head and took another sip. “I can’t believe they were going through my things. Like I’m a common criminal.”

“They’re investigating a murder. What did you expect?”

“I told Jason that Snyder thinks I did it.”

“You’re the spouse.” Crystal snorted. “The obvious choice. Of course they suspect you.” Crystal gulped a swallow, leaned back against the chair, and kicked off her shoes. “Don’t read anything into it. And be prepared to deal with some shit.”

“That’s what Jason said.”

“He’s right. Cops don’t like it when someone ends up dead from a knife wound on their turf.”

Just then the buzzer sounded.

Crystal jumped up. “They’re here.” She headed toward the front door.

Seconds later, Jason and another good-looking man hurried into the condo.

After placing the pizzas on the bar, Jason aimed straight for her. Reaching her, he bent from the waist and kissed her on the cheek.

“You okay?” he asked, catching her gaze.

She nodded.

He offered an encouraging smile and glanced at Crystal as the other guy sauntered closer.

“Hey, Red,” he said. “You look good.”

“Jimbo,” Crystal murmured, giving him a wary nod.

Jimbo smiled and reached out to push back an errant lock of Crystal’s hair. His finger trailed down her face before he clasped a hand around her neck. Then he leaned in, brushing his lips over hers for a brief kiss.

Crystal stepped deftly out of his reach. She cleared her throat and turned to Claire. “This is Jim O’Malley. Jimbo, meet Claire, my twin.”

Observing the exchange, Claire noticed both the proprietary way Jimbo treated Crystal, as well as her sister’s schoolgirl reaction to it. If she didn’t know better, she’d think her sister was glowing. How interesting.

Claire’s lips curled into a real smile for the first time in hours. Though Crystal put up a good front, she wasn’t immune to the craggy, attractive man whose X-rated gaze flickered with amusement after he’d finished raking it over Crystal’s body.

“Nice to meet you, Jimbo.” Claire stuck out a hand that he quickly took in a firm grip. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not all bad, I hope.” He flashed dazzling white teeth that contrasted sharply against a tanned face.

Her smile deepened at the soft drawl floating past her ears. “Not all.”

The guy appeared to be the perfect match for her sister.

“Okay, we need to strategize.”

Jason’s voice interrupted, and she turned her attention to him.

“Let’s go over this in detail,” he said as he started pacing.

“Strategizing can come while we eat.” Crystal headed for the kitchen. “I’m hungry, and I’m sure Claire is too.”

They spent a few minutes eating pizza in silence.

Eventually, Jason spoke. “Snyder’s still following procedure, but we have to plan a good offense to avoid being stuck in a defensive position. I want to know everything that’s happened in the past three weeks, no matter how trivial.”

• • •

After two hours of talking, Claire sighed and rubbed her temples. Her head hurt. She quickly grew tired of all the questions. She’d gone over it again and again, telling them everything she could think of leading up to the day Carl disappeared.

Everything except the stocks and the loan, that is. She couldn’t seem to tell Jason about them without appearing more gullible and stupid. Why had she waited so long to dump the jerk?

Hindsight provided an excellent window to the ugly picture of Carl playing her expertly, with the precision of a concert pianist playing a grand piano.

“How much longer?” Claire asked.

“I think we’re about done.” Jason turned to Jimbo. “What do you think?”

“Not much to go on. I’ll work on digging deeper.”

“There’s got to be something we’re missing. Someone killed Carter.”

“So far nothing’s panned out.” Jimbo shrugged. “Nothing that gives anyone motive enough to kill him, that is. The guy laid low the week before he died. Haven’t even dug up a maid who actually saw him. Hell, I didn’t even catch a glimpse while I was watching who entered and left his room. As far as I could tell, he had only three visitors—Claire, Crystal, and Elise. I plan on checking out the hotel’s security footage to see if there’s anything I missed. But that’ll take time.”

“Doesn’t sound promising.”

“I see why Snyder’s stuck on Claire as a lead,” Jimbo said as he rose to his feet. “He’s not stupid. He’ll soon discover Crystal’s involvement, and that’ll open another Pandora’s box.”

“I’ve thought of that.” Jason raked a hand through his hair. “We need to be prepared.”

“How do you prepare for a ten-ton bus coming straight at you?” Jimbo asked.

“You roll and get out of the way.” Jason stood and grabbed Claire’s hand to pull her with him. “Come on. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“She’s not. She’s got me.” Crystal jumped up. “I’ll take good care of her.”

“Let ’em go,” Jimbo murmured as he reached for the decanter of bourbon and poured, filling first his glass and then moving to refill Crystal’s. “We need to talk.”

“Claire’s staying here, and you can go with Jason.” Crystal’s voice, along with the fuming glare she sent Jimbo while grabbing the decanter, dared him to continue.

“That’s okay. I’ll be fine with Jason.” Claire placed a hand on her sister’s arm. When Crystal’s searching stare met hers, she nodded reassuringly. “You probably do need to talk. Thanks for being there today.” She hugged her twin and turned to Jason. “I’m ready. Maybe we could stop by my place so I can pick up a few things.”

“Sure.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, gently propelling her toward the door. Together they walked out, leaving Crystal with Jim.

“Do you think they’ll be okay? Maybe I should’ve stayed. Crystal looked ready to kill him.”

“He can hold his own. Let them work it out.” Jason stopped and bent to give her a quick kiss. “Besides, I’m being selfish. I’d rather have you with me tonight.”

Chapter 39

“Don’t get too comfortable because you’re not staying,” Crystal said, sending Jim another glower as she reached for the drink he finished pouring once she let go of the bottle.

“You’re a hard woman.” He made no move to leave, just sat back and made himself more comfortable.

“Well?” she snapped after enduring his silent scrutiny.

The guy was too much. How could he sit across from her acting so calm when everything inside her was screaming? Part of her couldn’t wait until he left, while the other part wanted to latch onto him and never let him go. That only irritated her more.

“Finish your drink and go.” She downed the rest of hers in one gulp and slammed the glass on the table. “You seem to have a hard time understanding the fact that I don’t want you here.” She started for her bedroom. “You can let yourself out when you’re done.”

“Get back here, Red,” Jimbo ordered when Crystal was almost out of the room, and then let out a heavy sigh. “I meant it when I said we need to talk.”

She stopped in the doorway and pivoted to see he’d put his drink down and had come out of the chair.

Her chin went up and she crossed her arms. “You can’t just waltz into my place and start giving me orders.”

“I can and I will,” he said with conviction. He nodded to the chair. “Now, sit.”

“No.” She stomped up to him and shoved him as hard as she could. All the move did was stun him a little. But he quickly recovered, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her toward him.

Crystal stiffened, not allowing his touch to affect her. “Go away, Jimbo,” she shouted. “I don’t want you here. I hate you for coming back.”

She didn’t trust herself, didn’t want a repeat of Friday night. She pulled away and punched at him over and over, putting as much force into the blows as she could. A few tears broke free. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stop them from flowing, so she kept pummeling him.

“Shush,” he said, absorbing all the blows. When she finally ran out of energy, he only pulled her closer, rubbing his hands over her back as he murmured, “It’ll be okay.”

“It’s not okay! Why didn’t you just stay away?”

“I couldn’t.” He kissed her temple and leaned back to meet her gaze as he wiped her tears away. “I’ll go after we talk. I promise.”

“We have nothing to say to each other.”

“We have lots to say to each other, but that’ll wait for another time. This is serious.”

Something in his tone alerted her and she stilled, peering at him through tear-blurred eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about you, your involvement in this case. I’m working on clearing both you and Claire, but it’s not goin’ well.”

Crystal snorted and wiped her eyes. “You forget. I have an alibi.” She smiled sweetly and presented her happiest voice. “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for too long.”

“That’s your problem, Red. You never let anyone in.”

“I let you in.”

“No, you didn’t. Why else would I feel the need to figure out what was wrong? You wouldn’t let me in, and it drove me nuts.”

“Don’t try to twist this,” she hissed as she pulled out of his grasp. She paced back and forth, working off the restless energy that suddenly consumed her. “When presented with the evidence, you believed the worst.”

“It’s what you wanted me to believe. Another bullshit strategy to throw me a curveball. I would’ve caught on to it sooner, but seeing those pictures twisted me into a knot.”

“You’re delusional!”

“Am I?”

The question hung in the air but she shook her head, not wanting to listen. The guy was delusional. Either that or she was. And she certainly didn’t want to be under Jim O’Malley’s spell again.

“Interesting how I didn’t have to search very hard to find what I found.” He reached for his glass, took a sip of bourbon, and waited until she met his gaze.

Crystal sucked in a deep breath at the intensity shining in his stare.

“I’m not proud of my part, Red. I reacted.” He shrugged. “Maybe I was seeking my own bullshit reason. Things were hot and heavy there for a while. I don’t think either of us were expecting it or knew how to deal with the heat.”

Crystal couldn’t keep peering into those expressive brown eyes of his. She focused on his glass, eyeing it critically as drops of condensation ran down its sides.

“Are we through going down memory lane?” she asked with a note of finality in her tone, lifting her chin to meet his gaze again.

“For the moment. I never meant to get into us tonight.”

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me.”

He chuckled. “You can be one prickly bitch, you know that?”

“Maybe that’s why we were so good together, because you’re one prickly bastard. At the same time, that’s probably why we’re not together any longer.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, pursing his lips as he scrutinized her face.

Scowling, Crystal held his gaze without flinching and waited for him to continue.

When he remained silent, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I’m still waiting.”

Jimbo swore under his breath. “I want to look at your files on Elise and Carter.”

“Why?”

“Information. See if there’s a pattern I can trace. It’s the only lead I have left.”

“Okay. The information is on my laptop at work. Stop by tomorrow, and I’ll have a copy for you. Anything else?”

He hesitated. “I agree with Jason. Someone’s pointing us in your direction, at you and Claire.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

“What do you think will happen once they find your file on Carter? Snyder will jump to the same conclusion I did.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows shot up. “You seem so sure.”

“I am.”

Jimbo held her gaze and waited.

When the stare-off continued for too long, he prompted, “Care to elaborate?”

“There is no file,” she replied with a shrug. “Not any longer.” Crystal walked toward her bedroom and nodded toward the front door. “I appreciate your concern. But it’s late and I’m tired. You can see yourself out.”

“You’re softening. I can sense it,” he said under his breath.

Then he leaned over to place the half-full glass on the table. After several large strides, he let himself out the front door.

Chapter 40

Deputy Snyder hung up the phone with the forensic pathologist late that Thursday afternoon. He wiped his tired face and plowed a hand through unruly hair that hadn’t felt the teeth of a comb for two days.

As the lead investigator on the Carter murder case, he and his partner had spent every waking moment since he’d interviewed Claire Carter with her attorney. He’d worked every available hour on answers to his questions, breaking only to sleep, shower, or grab a stale sandwich and bitter coffee to keep himself going.

“Bad news?”

Snyder looked up and noticed Hendricks, one of the other deputies, eyeing him thoughtfully.

“No. Just more work.” He sighed. “I need to call Claire Carter’s attorney and get her in here for more questioning first thing in the morning.”

Hendricks picked up the picture on top of the file of Carl’s dead body and whistled. “Someone didn’t like him. My money’s still on the wife as suspect number one.”

“I know.” Snyder nodded and yanked his wallet out of his back pocket to pull out a ten. He tossed the bill in front of Hendricks. “My gut’s leaning in that direction. Somehow the lady’s involved. Too much points in her direction.”

Hendricks snatched up the bill and smiled. “There’s a reason spouses make such good suspects.”

Snyder returned the smile, nodding distractedly. “Blood work confirmed Carter died with scopolamine and morphine in his system. Also, because he’d been stabbed, everyone, including the coroner, assumed stabbing had been the COD. But the autopsy confirmed he’d still been alive when he hit the water. Such deep wounds would’ve bled out and led to death, but the official cause is drowning.”

“What a way to go. Someone stabbing him before dumping his drugged body into the sea.” Hendricks waited a heartbeat before adding, “A woman could’ve easily done it if he’d been under the influence. The clincher is the time-stamped hotel surveillance footage of Carter and a red-headed woman working their way to the elevator on the same floor as Carter’s room.”

Though the woman’s face was too obscured for a positive ID, Snyder’s thoughts mirrored his coworker’s comments, and added more nails in the wife’s coffin. According to the footage Carter hadn’t returned to his room after that, but the redhead had. Using that information, they’d determined an approximate timeline for when the stabbing had occurred.

Carl Carter had lived his life as a womanizing scumbag. That alone gave Claire Carter motive. The guy had to be a piece of work to cheat on a woman like that.

Thinking of his earlier interview and remembering how Roberts had escorted his client out of the station, he murmured under his breath, “Interesting couple.” At the time, he definitely noticed something between the lady and her lawyer. Just more thought to chew on.

“A frickin’ complicated mystery, that’s for sure. The more we uncover, the more questions we have.”

“I’m still working on getting the credit card and other personal information.” Hendricks shook his head. “Lots of layers.”

“Well, wade through them fast. I’d like to have the information on hand when I question the widow.”

“Oh?”

Snyder frowned. “A person matching Claire Carter’s description was seen docking her boat the same night Carter was caught on camera at the hotel, only five hours later, which helped determine his estimated time of death.”

That information came from a phone call Snyder had taken just hours ago. Roberts knew nothing about it or the COD. He’d have to make sure the attorney got a copy of all forensics reports, plus the deposition, once he’d interviewed the witness.

Something wasn’t right with the whole setup. Just his luck that when he’d finally convinced himself the wife did it, he was hit with a twin sister. Then he learned this sister and the wife were estranged and had been for years until a few weeks ago.

With a heavy sigh, Snyder met Hendricks’s frustrated stare. “Right now there are too many threads of evidence, each one leading to a different conclusion.”

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes a moment once Hendricks had left his office. His mind whirled, sifting the information he’d gathered on the chase.

Everything led to the wife and the sister. At this point, things looked bleak for both. They were his only suspects. The two either killed Carl Carter together, or one of them acted alone.

Chapter 41

“All you got so far is circumstantial evidence. All of it,” Jason said Friday morning, throwing the report he’d just read on the table. He turned back to Snyder. “You’re reaching.”

“I don’t think so.”

“My client didn’t sell the stocks.”

“We know that. Carter sold them initially. Traced the transaction from his laptop. According to Mrs. Carter’s broker, he called informing her of the trades. Funny how Mrs. Carter didn’t tell him of Carl’s disappearance. Then the next day, she finds out from her banker he forged her name. Again, no mention of him going AWOL. I’d say that’s a pretty good motivation for murder.”

“So? She found out. And yeah, he sold the stocks. But he only took what was his. He didn’t get away with the loan. That’s no real motivation. You have no proof that it was Claire who deposited the money back into her account.”

“Maybe,” the deputy conceded as he looked at his notes. He took a few minutes, as if gathering his thoughts before he finally cleared his throat. “Your assistant told us how upset you were once you found out about the loan,” Snyder said, meeting Claire’s gaze. “She said you were livid. ‘I really will kill him before I ever let him have it all’ were your exact words.”

“I was angry,” Claire said evenly. “But that only led me to divorce him, not kill him.”

“So you and your sister say.”

Jason placed a warning hand over Claire’s and gave her a slight shake of his head before he answered for her. “We do say. Claire’s already processed the paperwork. You can check.”

Snyder gave Claire a sly smile. “I have. I think that’s a clever ploy to cover up the murder. Somehow you got your sister to help because you didn’t want to give him half. So you figured out a way to kill him and take it all.”

“No, that’s not true,” Claire insisted, pounding the table.

“Then why is the money back in the account? You want to know what else I think? I think,” he said, paying no attention to her shaking head as she remained silent, “you and your sister set him up and planned the entire scheme, from the moment of his disappearance.”

“What?” Jason snorted. He’d heard enough. He stood and turned to Claire to help her out of her chair. It was time to regroup. Getting into a yelling match with Snyder would solve nothing. “That’s ludicrous.”

Snyder leaned back in his chair, leveling his calm gaze on Jason. “Oh? Then why is it no one saw Carter after the night he disappeared? I say the drugged champagne in the flutes found at the scene was meant for Carl. Your client planned this all, along with her sister. The whole scene was a setup, down to your involvement and mine.”

Jason’s temper flared, and as he opened his mouth to respond, Snyder held up a hand to stall his retort and added, “Don’t you think it’s a little odd she’d call a lawyer after calling the police when her husband went missing? Hotel staff members have identified photos of both Claire and Crystal as frequent visitors to the room he was using. Each has an alibi at different times, making it harder to pinpoint who was actually going in and out. I’m assuming they did it together.”

“Makes for great fiction,” Jason bit out. “Ever think of becoming a writer?” He nodded for Claire to go ahead of him. “If that’s all you have, you’re going to have to excuse us.”

“Don’t go too far. We’re not through,” Snyder said, and expelled an audible breath.

Jason felt the deputy’s eyes on him as they walked toward the door.

• • •

“What’s going on?” The flash of lights blinded Claire as they left the station, one popping right after the other. Holding up a shielding hand, she murmured, “Why are all these people lined up to take my picture?”

“Reporters,” Jason replied as he steered her in the direction of his car. “Keep walking. Just ignore them.”

Never in her life had she been more thankful for the privacy the tinted windows provided once he slammed the door and ran around to the other side.

When he slid behind the wheel and started the Mercedes, she watched as he put the car in gear and backed up in an easy move.

“Why would reporters be interested in me?”

Jason sighed, his eyes filled with concern as they met hers. “You’re hot news now. Dead husband. Twins, both with motive and opportunity as suspects. Be prepared, because it’ll only get worse.”

“You told me not to worry. Things would work out.” She glanced back at the mob scene. “Now I’ve got reporters after me!”

As she recalled how many reporters had just swooped in on them, a trickle of unease crept along her spine. A pack of wild dogs going after fresh meat came to mind. They believed she was guilty as sin.

“Things are different now,” Jason added, “so we need to worry. Those vultures have latched onto some incriminating circumstantial evidence.”

“They think I killed Carl,” she said on a breath as disbelief wrapped tightening bands around her chest, restricting her air.

Soon the whole world would believe it too. Her hands fisted so tightly, the nails dug into her palms. She inhaled, forcing her fingers to relax one at a time.

Jason sighed, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “It’s not a hard assumption to make when Snyder has so much circumstantial support leaning in that direction. The guy’s been busy these past few days.”

Thoughts of the horrible questions and insinuation she’d just sat through with Snyder spun inside Claire’s brain. Oh God. She rubbed her forehead. Did everyone believe her guilty? Worse, the deputy was trying to implicate Crystal.

“What about you?” She glanced at him. Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face more closely, looking for the truth in his expression.

“Me?” Jason shrugged but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’m on your side.”

“You don’t believe what he’s saying, do you?”

“I’m behind you one hundred percent, Claire. You know that.”

She prodded, not understanding why it was so important. “But you have doubts.”

Jason didn’t answer right away. “How can I represent you when you haven’t been totally honest with me?” He rubbed his neck before letting out a long, slow breath.

“I have been honest with you.”

“Have you?” A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he shot a narrowed glance her way. “You’re in serious shit, and you’re in deep. The DA will be out for blood; I can sense it. His next move is an arrest warrant. So, what else are you leaving out?”

“Nothing,” she insisted. “How was I supposed to know this would happen?”

“I wish you’d told me about the stocks and the loan.”

“Why? That was personal.”

“It’s also a pretty damn good motive.” He braked for a red light and turned to face her, his expression grim. “If I’d known in advance, I could’ve been prepared. I don’t like being blindsided.”

“But it was still personal. Something I didn’t feel like sharing,” she shot back, not liking his accusatory tone.

Of course, she had no defense for something she’d known nothing about until Snyder presented the facts to her in glaring black and white. Someone had put the money Carl had stolen from the joint account weeks ago back into her new account after he had been killed, making it appear as if Claire had been that someone.

“We’re past personal.” Jason raised an eyebrow at her as he added, “We passed it last weekend when we made love for the tenth time.” He turned his gaze out the windshield, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Your fingerprints were found in his car. Snyder found more of Carl’s blood on the edge of your boat. He thinks you cleaned it to get rid of evidence.”

The light turned green and Jason focused on driving. As he did, Claire held her tongue, feeling helpless in the face of the evidence that had mounted against her.

Why couldn’t I have just told him about how Carl had tried to steal from me? Things between her and Jason would be so much simpler if she had, but being such a private person had now come back to bite Claire.

A mile later, he interrupted her thoughts. “Both those things are circumstantial and can be explained away, but the scopolamine and morphine they found in your bathroom cabinet? Explaining that, along with the money, may take some doing. And we can’t forget Crystal’s involvement. This just keeps getting worse and worse.”

“Crystal didn’t do it. She wouldn’t.”

“You and Jimbo should get together. Seems you both believe so strongly in your sister.”

She looked out the window, staring blankly at what passed by and seeing nothing. “Carl was involved with others. Have you thought about that?”

“Snyder hasn’t found anyone who fits, and Jimbo’s looking into it.”

“What about your ex? She was involved with him. You told me Jimbo saw her at the hotel. Maybe she killed him.”

“We’re meeting with her later today when she brings the girls by. But there’s no motive. She simply had no reason to kill Carter.” Jason sighed and gave a slight shrug, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “Why would she kill him and set you up? She doesn’t know you. Besides, the crime’s one of passion. Elise has only one passion besides money, and that’s screwing men.”

“Maybe it’s hidden. Does Snyder know about her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Shouldn’t you tell him?”

Jason didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes focused straight ahead as if he was lost in silent reflection. “You should retain another lawyer. I have a colleague who is every bit as qualified—”

“No!” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Claire. I can’t represent you.” This time he met her eyes, and she could see the seriousness reflected in his intense gaze. “It wouldn’t be smart.”

“I don’t care. I want you. I trust you.”

“I’m too close. I can’t be objective. How can I, knowing your life is at stake?”

“Then bring in another lawyer you trust to advise. But I don’t want to work with anyone else unless you’re part of it. Please, Jason. Don’t leave me.”

“Damn,” he said under his breath, and then remained deathly quiet for too long.

“I didn’t kill him,” Claire blurted when the silence became oppressive.

“If not, then someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it appear that way. Since you say you’re innocent, my money’s on Crystal.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.”

“Is that what you really believe?”

“I’m being realistic and looking at it objectively. I can’t think with my dick now. If I do, I won’t be of any use to you.”

“Go to hell.” Claire felt herself tear up, and blinked the moisture away.

“You still want me for your attorney?”

This time when he glanced over, there was nothing pleasant in his expression. His fierce blue gaze was cold. No, cold was too mild a word. More like glacial.

Claire swallowed hard as he refocused on driving. Did he think she did it? Judging by what his eyes revealed, she couldn’t be sure. She thought she knew him better. Apparently not.

“Why are you being so cruel?” she asked.

Where was the wonderful, supportive man who held her in his arms for the last two nights after giving such pleasure. Had it been just sex as it had been with Carl?

When Jason stared straight ahead without answering, Claire remained mute and turned to gaze out the window again. Neither said anything until he pulled into her driveway and stopped with the car running.

“You’re not coming in?”

“No,” he said without meeting her gaze. “I’ve got work to do.”

She blinked back more tears that threatened when he didn’t move, only stared straight ahead, obviously waiting for her to leave.

Grabbing the handle, she unlatched the lock while pushing out thoughts of all those other times Jason had been right there to hold the door open for her. It stung to know he had doubts. She climbed out of the car and leaned back inside.

“I didn’t kill Carl. If you think I did, if you have any doubts at all, then you’re right. I need to find another lawyer.”

Claire slammed the door and ran to her front entrance, trying to avoid the cameras held by the newsmen she suddenly noticed gathered outside her house.

The cool air hit Claire once she closed the door and leaned against it, feeling drained. How could Jason be so callous? She turned and kicked the door as hard as she could. Then a second later, she burst into tears because it hurt so much. Not just her foot, but also her heart.

She headed for her kitchen. Chocolate brownies called.

Having pulled out all the ingredients, she picked up the phone and punched in Crystal’s work number.

“Grayson here,” her sister said on the second ring.

“Crystal?”

“Claire? You don’t sound good. What’s going on?”

“I need moral support,” she said, knowing her twin would be there for her now that she’d made the call. “I’m baking brownies.”

Crystal laughed. “Give me an hour or two to clear my desk, and I’ll drive right over.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Don’t read too much into it. It’s the brownies. I can’t resist.”

“Oh, that’s right. You could always be persuaded to help me eat all the stuff I used to cook.” Claire broke off, too upset to talk for a moment. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as regret filled her. “I’m so sorry I let Carl come between us. I’ve really missed you.”

“Are you crying?”

“How’d you know?” she asked, smiling through her tears.

“Well, stop it. You’ll make me cry. I still have to look presentable when I leave and have to wade through the swarm of reporters. I don’t want to give them any fuel to add to their sensationalistic fervor.”

“You’ve got reporters too?” Apparently the vultures had made the connection, and because of her, Crystal’s life was now under the same microscope.

“Yep, I’m big news. Haven’t you heard? Channel Ten reporters have bet the News On Seven guys that I’m as guilty as sin. Someone’s going to lose a hundred bucks.”

“You can joke?” Claire sighed into the phone, her smile becoming wistful.

“Until I can eat brownies,” Crystal teased. She sighed, sobering. “It’s mental. Don’t let ’em get to you, CG.”

“So easy for you to say, CG.” Claire walked over to her patio door and look out at the water. A few herons were in her yard, close to the shore. “And I’m not CG anymore. I screwed up and added a C to my initials.”

“You’ll always be CG to me. I’m serious, Claire. Don’t look at them. Pretend they aren’t there.”

Claire spotted a reporter across the canal and flipped the slats shut. “How do I do that? God, I wish I could be more like you.”

“Ditto,” Crystal said, and then added before hanging up, “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

Chapter 42

Jason waited until Claire was safely inside her house before putting the Mercedes into gear and punching the accelerator. He drove too fast, heading west to Highway 441 and Jimbo’s house, situated at the edge of Florida’s Everglades.

While driving, his thoughts were on the lady he’d just left, and they tore him in two.

One thing he couldn’t abide was lying; he hated all forms of deceit. Which was ironic, considering he was an attorney, but true. Claire’s deception ate at him with the speed of cancer spreading. At this moment, he wished he’d never become involved with her.

That was his dilemma. He was involved with her—very, very involved with her.

Leaving her at home alone had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but self-preservation required that he go. He couldn’t be objective around her. Objectivity, especially when Snyder continued building an insurmountable case, was crucial. The deputy only needed one solid piece of evidence that wasn’t circumstantial. Then he’d hand the DA an airtight case.

And right now, Jason couldn’t rely on gut instinct he didn’t trust. Only distance would allow him to operate with a clear head.

Of course, the farther away from Claire he drove, the more the questions flooding his mind plagued him. Had Claire killed her husband? Was Crystal in on it? Had this been a setup from the very beginning, including his seduction?

Together, Claire and Crystal could have set the whole thing up, drugging Carl and holding him to throw off suspicion. Had they taken him to the hotel, and then planted the blood and the knife?

But that scenario didn’t hold water because Elise had visited the hotel.

What the hell was going on? Was it revenge for Carl’s screwing around? Jason knew Crystal hated Carter enough to kill, but did Claire? And where did his ex fit in?

Jason prided himself on honesty, on being able to pinpoint it in others. Was Claire lying or telling the truth? Had he been so taken in by her he hadn’t seen it coming? Was she so diabolical that she could make him fall in love with her, and then use his feelings for her own purposes?

He sighed. There was no use in denying it. He was head over heels for Claire.

“Not good, Roberts,” he said under his breath. Not good at all.

He didn’t want to believe the woman he’d made love to could be so cold and calculating.

Yet what about the stocks? Were they a ploy? Did Claire bring attention to herself by putting the money back into her account on purpose? Or did Snyder’s assumption have a few holes?

If Claire had told him about them, he could have been ready for the deputy and torn a few more holes in the deputy’s case. As it turned out, Jason had been paddling desperately just to stay afloat when Snyder hit him with the news, a wall of water swamping him.

If the sisters didn’t do it, then someone close to Claire probably did. Snyder told him he’d ruled out those in Claire’s office as suspects. No one had motive, and everyone had solid alibis.

Jason looked at his watch. Three fifteen. Still early. He needed to talk to Gwen Anderson, Amy Denton, and others in Claire’s office. The sooner, the better. The car slowed as he took his foot off the accelerator.

He took out his cell phone and punched in the correct number. “This is Jason Roberts,” he said when he heard Claire’s assistant’s voice.

“Claire’s not in, Mr. Roberts.”

“I know. I just left her. I need to question a few people in the office, those closest to Claire and Carter. Plus, I’d like to have a word with you.”

“Now?”

“I can be there in twenty minutes. Do you think you can arrange for me to meet with a few people in the office?”

“Sure, if it will help Claire. Tell me who you need to speak to, and I’ll arrange it.”

Jason set aside the phone after disconnecting the call and quickly made a U-turn. Within fifteen minutes, he pulled into the parking lot of Claire’s Collections. In another five, he walked off the elevator and up to Amy Denton’s desk.

“Ms. Denton?” He held out his business card.

“Yes, Mr. Roberts,” she said as she took it. Her voice held humor when she added, “I think I know by now who you are.”

He nodded. “Can we go somewhere to talk? I have a few questions.”

“I’m not sure what I can add. I already talked to the deputy.”

Though she said this with a smile, he spotted a hint of wariness in her eyes that carried over to her voice.

“I’m not a cop.” He flashed his most charming smile. “Did you get your hair cut or something?” he asked after giving her a quick once-over.

“I did. You like it?”

“I do. Looks good.”

“Thanks.” She laughed and patted her head. “You’re observant. Guys don’t usually notice things like that. I got tired of making it behave in this heat. Usually, I whack it off much sooner during the summer.” She cleared her throat. This time when he met her gaze, curiosity had replaced wariness. “What kind of questions do you have?”

“Some that will help me get a feel.”

“A feel?” Her expression turned curious.

“You know, behind-the-scenes information. I’ve talked with Claire, and she’s given me a fairly good idea of the goings-on around here. Now I’m interested in your opinion, as well as a few others.”

Amy led him to a conference room where he interviewed her at length, learning nothing more than what was in Snyder’s file. After Amy left, Gwen Anderson came in.

“I heard you were asking questions,” Gwen said as she sat in the chair Amy had vacated. “Ask away.”

“Like I told Amy, I’m just being thorough. I’d like to get your opinion.”

“On what?”

“Their relationship, for one.”

She rolled her eyes. “Their relationship always seemed a bit strange, if you ask me.”

“How so?”

“Claire’s a hard worker, and Carl was the exact opposite. The guy never did a day’s work in his life, but he strutted around as if he owned the place.”

“Maybe that’s because he did.” When she gave him a questioning look, he said, “According to my information, Claire and Carl both owned the company. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.” She shrugged. “But Claire’s always run things.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that Carter was entitled to strut a bit.” He took out his notebook and flipped to a blank page. “How long have you worked for Claire’s Collections?”

“Four years,” she said with a bit of pride in her voice. “I was one of her first employees.”

“And you’ve been Claire’s production manager the entire time?”

“I oversee the creative department, and have for the last three years.”

“So you know her pretty well, right?”

“As well as anyone. I’m her best friend.”

“Do you think she killed Carl?”

“Claire? No way! She couldn’t.”

“Tell me about the last three months.”

“What can I add that Claire hasn’t?”

“Humor me. When I defend someone, I ask the people who are closest to give me their impressions. That way, sometimes I see things others miss. Claire told me she and Carl were trying to salvage their marriage. What was their marriage like, from your point of view?”

“A disaster waiting to happen.” When he didn’t say anything, simply waited with eyebrows raised, she explained further. “Carl may have given Claire the idea he was working on their marriage, but he hadn’t changed. The guy thought he was God’s gift to women.”

“Why’s that?”

“Carl flirted with anyone in a skirt. But not around Claire. At least, not after he went after Amy, and Claire read him the riot act when she caught wind of it.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Did he flirt with you?”

“He tried to.” Gwen frowned. “But I shut him down. He was a total jerk. I always wondered why Claire put up with him for so long. Of course, she was pretty angry when she found out about the loan.” She broke off and offered him a sheepish look. “I didn’t mean to get Claire in trouble. It kind of popped out when I was talking to the officer.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He was asking about Claire, and the days after Carl disappeared. I was trying to let Deputy Snyder know that Claire really thought he was dead. When her banker called and she found out about the loan, she knew then that something was going on, and Carl was right in the midst of it. No one could fake her anger.”

“So she was angry.”

“Oh, she was pissed, all right. Said . . . well, you already know what she said, so I don’t have to repeat it.”

Jason sighed. Claire probably did make the statement; she’d said something much like that to him when he sought her out the day they cleaned her boat. Hell, he’d be angry too if Elise had pulled shit like that. The thought took away some of his fears of her premeditation. Had she been angry enough to kill because of it, if Crystal had planned it from the beginning?

“Did you know about the stocks?”

“Yes.”

“When did you find out?”

Gwen gave a nonchalant shrug. “I know her broker called the Monday after Carl went missing because I was standing next to Amy’s desk when she answered the phone. We listened in on the conversation, hoping it was some kind of news. We’re both a little on the protective side when it comes to Claire.”

“Hmm.” He rolled that information around his brain and let it settle. Then he slanted another glance at her and said, “And you didn’t like Carl.”

Gwen scrunched up her nose in distaste. “We didn’t see eye to eye. Thank God I didn’t have to work for him too often. He was impossible to deal with.”

“Oh? How so?”

“He’d get these crazy ideas of something to add to the catalog, and throw all of the initial legwork onto either me or another assistant.” Jason didn’t say anything, just waited patiently until she added, “Then if it worked, he’d take the credit, and if it didn’t, he’d lay the blame on our shoulders for its failure.”

“Can you think of any reason someone would want to kill him?” Didn’t sound as if anyone in the company liked him. Maybe Snyder hadn’t been thorough.

Jason’s stare stayed fastened on hers. Finally, she looked down and shook her head.

“No,” she said softly. “He was an annoying pig. But that’s no reason to kill him.”

He nodded and jotted down a few notes. “Just one more question, then I’ll wrap this up.”

“Okay.”

“Where were you on the night of June twenty-third from ten p.m. to one a.m.?”

“Carl actually died sometime during that time?”

“Between eleven and twelve, but I added an hour on each end,” he replied.

“You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you? Deputy Snyder cleared me as a suspect.”

“I read the report.” Jason offered his warmest smile. “I just want to hear it again. You know, to get the feel.”

“I had a date with a hot guy that night.” She grimaced. “Turned out to be a jerk, though.”

“This guy have a name?”

“Wasn’t that in the report too?”

“Yes, but I didn’t write it down.”

“John Myers. Lousy night. That’s why I remember it so well.” She broke off a moment and then laughed. “You know, I just remembered something else. I talked to Claire that night around eleven, right after the jerk left.”

“You talked to Claire? Are you sure?”

“It sounded like her when she answered, so I assumed it was.”

“On her cell?”

“No. Her home line.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“No one asked. The deputy never mentioned a specific time, and since I just now found out about Carl’s actual time of death, it never dawned on me to volunteer it,” she said with a shrug.

Jason’s gaze never wavered. When Gwen remained silent, he prodded, “Well? Care to elaborate about the phone call?”

“The jerky guy . . . he gave me some trouble. Expected me to put out, and got kind of belligerent. Once I got rid of him, I called Claire for consolation. We talked almost an hour. You can check.”

“I will,” he murmured, and wrote the information down before closing his notebook. Then he stood. “Thanks for your help.”

She stood as well. “I only hope I didn’t make things worse for Claire.”

“You told the truth, right?”

“Yes.”

He offered her a grin. “Then you have nothing to worry about. The lies are what trip people up.”

• • •

After questioning two others, Jason said his good-byes and headed for his car. Except for what he learned about Gwen Anderson’s phone call, the past hour was a total waste. Still, he wasn’t about to leave any stone unturned. He’d have Jimbo check into their alibis.

Jimbo could also follow up on the phone call. It might be Claire’s salvation—if she told the truth, if the timing was right, and if Claire didn’t have the call forwarded. A lot of ifs. But still promising.

Jason headed west toward the Everglades for the second time that day. Twenty miles later, he pulled off the main highway onto a dirt road, driving at least a mile through ground that quickly became swampier. Why his investigator liked to live with alligators and snakes was beyond him.

He parked the car and let his gaze wander as he climbed out and walked cautiously to the door. Just because he didn’t see any of the reptiles didn’t mean they weren’t lurking, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting soul. And Jason had no intention of being that unlucky bastard.

“Why the hell do you live so far out?” he asked, pushing past Jimbo once he answered the door.

“Quiet out here,” Jimbo drawled. “Reminds me of Texas.”

“Texas? Your backyard’s a freakin’ swamp, for Christ’s sake.”

“Houston’s tropical. They got a few bayous around.”

“That’s why you like it out here in the boonies? It reminds you of Houston?”

“No. It’s quiet. I like quiet. Hate noise. Especially city noise.” Jimbo stopped, eyeing him thoughtfully. “You’ve been here before and never complained. What’s got you so riled?”

“Nothing. Hell, everything!” Jason followed Jimbo into the kitchen.

“You want a beer?”

“Just water,” Jason said. “I need a clear head, so a beer’ll have to wait till I get home and can hit a wall.”

“Take it things didn’t go well in Key Largo?” Jimbo opened the refrigerator door and rooted through it, pulling out a soft drink and Jason’s water.

“Snyder’s out for blood. I just spent a good part of the day fielding blows.”

Jason let out a disgusted snort and grabbed the bottle Jimbo handed him. He uncapped it, took a hefty swig, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he’d drunk half of it. Filled with pent-up nervous energy, he paced Jimbo’s Mexican tile floor.

“Seems Claire’s been less than candid with me, and he’s come up with a decent motive. You better work fast, or we’ll be fending off blows for your precious Crystal too.”

“Working on it. What happened with Snyder?”

Jason spent a moment expounding on Carl’s antics before he died, all that Claire hadn’t bothered to tell him, and how Snyder now believed Crystal was part of it.

Jimbo shook his head in disbelief. “Hell, I can see why you’re pissed. I’m digging as fast as I can, but I’ll dig faster.”

“While you’re at it, check out Claire’s phone calls on the night in question. I’m surprised Snyder hasn’t done it.”

“Oh?”

“Gwen Anderson says she spent an hour talking to her. If we can substantiate that and the time is right, Claire couldn’t have driven to Key Largo and back. Gwen’s phone call might be the break we’re looking for. An alibi.”

“I’ll get right on it. Take it you didn’t tell Snyder about Elise yet?” He glanced at Jason. When he shook his head, Jimbo added, “I’m wondering if the killer even knows. Blows Snyder’s theory the two sisters were the only ones to see him alive after his disappearance. Plus, Crystal’s got a fairly airtight alibi.”

“You checked it out?”

“Yeah. She was at a benefit dinner. Ended well after midnight. Talked to several people who saw her at different times.”

Jason absorbed this information and kept his gaze on the bottle he brought to his lips. He took a drink as his thoughts shifted back to earlier this afternoon.

“Snyder wants to give both Claire and Crystal lie-detector tests,” he said, letting his fingers trail the condensation on the bottle. He wiped the droplets off before meeting Jimbo’s curious gaze.

“Could get him off our back,” Jimbo mused.

“It could seal their fate, if either is lying. What if they’re in on it together?”

“They’re not. Besides, it’ll strengthen their alibis. You know, the phone call and the benefit. Then we pull out the big guns and tell him about Elise.”

Jason shook his head. “Claire could’ve covered for Crystal at the benefit and then been home to receive Gwen’s call.”

“Go for the lie-detector test. They didn’t kill Carter.”

“You’re so sure? Just like that you tell me I should put their lives on the line? Haven’t you been listening?”

“You wanna know your problem?” Jimbo asked. When Jason’s eyebrows shot up, he grunted. “Too cynical. Been defending lowlifes too long. After a while, you start believing everyone’s bullshitting you.” He finished off his drink in one long swallow before he crushed the can and tossed it in the recycle bin. “Elise really did a number on you.”

“My relationship with Elise has nothing to do with this. And as far as dealing with clients, I only look for motivation.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What does that mean?” Jason fought to keep the outrage out of his voice, but it still rose.

“Elise has everything to do with this.” Jimbo snorted, catching his gaze with an intent stare. “You forget, old buddy, I was there. I saw how you reacted, and saw how she reacted to your reaction.”

Jason’s jaw clenched as irritation streaked up his spine. “Why are we discussing my ex?”

“Because you’re handling this exactly as you handled her affair. Rather than address your part, you buried yourself in work. Shut her out.”

“I can’t believe this shit,” he shot back, beginning to pace again. “Where do you get off analyzing me or my marriage?”

“Just stating the facts as I see them.”

“The facts?” Jason spat out. “You’re condoning her behavior?” he asked, not bothering to hide his increasing annoyance. “She cheated on me. Broke her vows. Not once, but several times.”

“I’m not condoning anything. She was begging for attention when she got involved with Rich.”

Jason’s spine stiffened at the mention of Rich Wilkens, his former partner. He halted in mid-stride and met Jimbo’s gaze. The fuming glare he flashed did nothing to stop his investigator from continuing.

“Even I could see it. But once she screwed up, literally, you couldn’t deal with it or the fact that she’s human, made a human error. You pushed her away even further, and she retaliated. Don’t make the same mistake with Claire.”

“I don’t see the connection,” Jason said, quickly losing his patience with this conversation. “I don’t believe our earlier talk has given you permission to dissect my life.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re upset because your perfect Claire lied by omission. Instead of understanding why, which you do so well with all your other clients, you’re quick to paint her as guilty. Big turnaround from last night.” Jimbo shrugged. “Wondering why, is all.”

“Because she did lie.” He broke eye contact and waved a hand in the air to brush Jimbo’s insights aside. “What if she’s guilty?”

“She’s not. And neither is Crystal.”

“I wish I had your faith.” Jason sighed and rubbed his temples to ease the building headache.

“You’re lookin’ at this all wrong, Roberts.”

“Really? How should I be looking at it?”

“From my perspective.”

“Your perspective? You’re joking, right?” Jason gulped the last of the water and recapped the bottle, then placed it on the counter. “This from a man whose longest relationship imploded after six months. And now you’re a freaking font of advice.”

He turned and headed for the living room, hoping to end the conversation, but Jimbo followed. Jason plopped onto the sofa and cringed when that slow, lazy voice started in on him again.

“Yes, I am. And you wanna know why? Because I learn from my mistakes.” When Jason snorted, Jimbo said, “Go ahead and scoff. You didn’t see those pictures. They told a strong story that turned out to be a false impression. The picture the killer has created is solid too. But is it real? Do you honestly believe Claire killed him with Crystal’s help?”

“Damn it all,” Jason murmured, wanting more than anything to latch onto the glimmer of hope that welled inside him at his friend’s words. “There’s a lot of evidence against them.”

“So? Who told me not to believe everything I see? Those two sisters may be aggravating, but are they killers? Part sinner, part saint, maybe.” Jimbo shrugged. “That’s in all of us. Crystal’s one bitchy woman, but she’s not a killer. And neither is Claire. I’d bet my life on it.”

“No one ever knows anyone well enough to determine that.”

“I do. And if you’d drop that cynicism, so would you.”

Jason glowered at him. “Are we back to that?”

How could Jim O’Malley be giving him a lecture on being a cynic, especially since the guy had been a doubting Thomas not more than a week ago? Besides, Jason’s career did give him an edge; his cynicism was earned. He saw people as they really were, and he waded through a lot of bullshit to see it.

“You really think you’re an authority?”

Jimbo scowled at him. “Don’t give me that look. I have faith, and deep down, I know Crystal. I’ve seen her fight hard to keep families from self-destructing in some of her divorce cases. On the surface, she acts like she doesn’t give a shit. But when dig deeper, you find a woman who cares. More than most. She’d also think stabbing’s too light a sentence for old Carl.” He grinned and winked. “Knowin’ her, she’d cut off his balls and send ’em to your ex.”

Jason laughed; he couldn’t help himself when Jimbo spoke the truth. About everything. Still, he wasn’t able to let go entirely.

“But what if Claire did it and called Crystal for help?”

“Are you so afraid of believing in someone again? Of listening to your heart?” Jimbo shook his head while his expression took on a look of impatience. “If so, you don’t deserve her. Admit it. She’s gotten under your skin, deeper than a chigger, and you’re scared shitless.”

“Are you through analyzing? For a guy who doesn’t say much, suddenly I can’t shut you up.”

“I’ve said my piece.”

“You’re sure?” Jason waited with eyebrows lifted and Jimbo only snorted. “Good, ’cause the way I see it, we’ve still got some evidence to tear apart. Snyder’s not going to drop it so easily, even after Claire and Crystal do pass their lie-detector tests.”

“Piece of cake.” Jimbo grinned. “We just tear holes in all of Snyder’s theories, one by one. Someone wants us to think Claire and Crystal were working together and supposedly were the last to see him alive, right?” Jason nodded. “They also found substances in her house, made it look as if the two drugged Carl and took him to the hotel room to throw off suspicion. That same someone saw Carl alive before he or she killed him, and has to be close by. I’d bet my last dollar he or she knows nothing about your ex being there earlier. So, all we gotta do is find out who that someone is.”

“Piece of cake.” Jason glanced at his watch and grunted. “I gotta go meet the girls. Elise is dropping them off. You coming?”

“Right behind you, old buddy. I’m still reviewing Crystal’s files, so I’m curious as to what Elise has to say about old Carl. Maybe she’ll have an idea of who our someone is.”

“Maybe. After we talk to her, I’ll tell Snyder about her involvement.”

“Should be interesting.” Jimbo rubbed his hands together. “He’ll probably shit a brick.”

“Let’s not get too confident. There are a multitude of unanswered questions.” Jason started for the door. “Oh yeah. I want you to check on the alibis of a few people in the office. Amy Denton was with a couple of friends at a restaurant, and Gwen Anderson had a date. Talk to those involved.” He held out a list of names and numbers. “Make sure none are lying.” If anyone could snoop or cajole people into getting caught up in lies, it was Jimbo.

“Why?”

“Gut feeling. It’s probably nothing. Snyder’s thorough, but we need to be more than thorough.”

Chapter 43

While Claire baked, her mind spun, weaving out of control with thoughts she couldn’t shake. How had she gone from being loved by all those around her to becoming a pariah?

Her heart hurt. Would the pain ever go away? She felt so alone. Was this how Crystal had felt after her accident? Was this how Crystal had felt about Jim O’Malley? If so, she understood her twin’s behavior a little more.

Claire desperately wanted Jason to believe in her despite the evidence. The fact that he didn’t hurt her deeply. If this was how love felt, she could do without, thank you very much.

Carl had never made her feel this bad, and now she knew why. He’d never really had the power to hurt her. She’d always kept him at an emotional distance in order to live with him. It was probably the reason she’d been able to put up with him for so long. Oh, she’d loved him at one time, but she’d walled up her heart on her wedding day, she suddenly realized in a burst of insight. Subconsciously, she’d always believed in Crystal’s innocence. Just couldn’t face it.

Regret the size of a grapefruit formed in her throat. Why hadn’t she protected her heart against Jason too? Men were such disappointments.

As the buzzer sounded, she sighed and picked up a hot pad. Once she placed the brownies out to cool, Claire headed for the living room and turned on the television to drown out her thoughts.

Oh God! There it was! Live on the news at five, in living color from the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office, was her departure with Jason. She cringed inwardly at how guilty she looked, running like a scared rabbit. The whole world now thought she killed Carl.

According to the press, both she and Crystal were as guilty as if they’d already been convicted. Was it true what they said about her twin? Had Crystal hated her enough to set her up? Or was she as much a victim as Claire?

Claire’s head pounded and nausea rose up. She hit the remote, killing the television picture, and went over to the window to peek out. Reporters still milled about outside her house, vultures waiting for their prey to weaken.

Surely she’d died and gone straight to hell. Only she couldn’t believe that because Claire had always tried to live a good life. She didn’t kick animals or hate children. The way the press tore her to pieces, she might have been the devil incarnate. She closed her blinds, shutting out the world and all of her troubles.

When the doorbell sounded a few minutes later, Claire hurried to answer it.

“Thank God you came. I’m going crazy, feeling trapped in my own house.”

“I told you to calm down,” Crystal said as she stormed into the room, a defending army of one who had a secret weapon. “I take it you haven’t started in on the brownies yet?”

“I was waiting for you.” Following her sister toward her kitchen, Claire smiled for the first time in several hours. “I think they’re cool enough now.”

She spent a few minutes cutting the dessert into squares. Once she’d placed half on a plate and the rest in a Ziploc bag, she turned to Crystal.

“Milk?” When she nodded, Claire poured two glasses.

With the brownies and her glass of milk in hand, Crystal walked toward the French doors. “It’s depressing as hell in here. Let’s go out on the patio.”

“Can’t. Reporters are stationed on the other side of the canal.”

“All the more reason. We need to blow ’em off.”

“I’ve been working on being gutsy, but I don’t know if I have it in me to brave a final exam yet.”

“You do.” Crystal laughed, swung open the doors, and stormed outside. “Just follow my lead. I’m well past the point of being gutsy. Got my PhD in bitchiness years ago.”

“I’d still like to take a few more lessons.” Claire hesitated and looked across the water.

“Jumping in is the best way to deal. Trust me on this.”

“Easy for you to say.” Claire watched her twin place the milk and the plate of brownies on the table, thinking that Crystal did have a warrior-going-into-battle look about her. “After all, you’ve got a PhD.”

“Come on,” Crystal urged, pulling out a chair. She plopped into it, put her feet up on another, and bit into a brownie. “You have me to hold your hand so you won’t sink. It’s a matter of what you’re comfortable with. Once you do it a few times and survive, you realize it’s not so hard.”

Claire stepped out onto the patio. The muggy heat hit her, but the breeze off the water helped. She ignored the movement across the canal and sat down.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Crystal winked. “The best part is, no one knows who’s who,” her sister said, then shot her a glance. “So, what’s going on? Why are you so depressed?”

Claire sighed. “They call me the black widow. I have at least fifty reporters outside my house who think I’m guilty as sin for stabbing my lying, cheating husband to death. Isn’t that enough?”

“Good point.” Crystal picked up another brownie and started to nibble. “They don’t have all the facts.” Her head indicated the other side of the water. “What’s more, they don’t know you, so why do you care what they think?”

Claire contemplated her sister’s perspective while examining the brownie in her hand. Finally, she sighed. “Jason.”

“Ah!” When Claire didn’t add anything, Crystal prodded, “And?”

“He thinks I did it.”

“He does not.”

“He’s got doubts. And it hurts.”

Her eyes filled with unwanted tears and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting the crowd across the canal to see them. She felt Crystal’s hand over hers as she gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

Claire smiled through her tears and nodded.

“Now maybe you can understand why I’d just as soon not get involved with Jimbo again. But you shouldn’t feel that way. Jason’s tough, but he’s different. He’ll come around.”

“It’s too late for that. I never should’ve seduced him.”

Crystal gave her a shocked look. “Jason? You seduced him? Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Maybe a little mutual seduction went on.” If Claire hadn’t felt so miserable, her smile would have been more genuine at the disbelief in Crystal’s voice. “But that’s not the point.”

“Mutual seduction or not, Jason’s picky, and he’s not one to make love lightly.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Claire’s smile vanished altogether. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again. The cost is too high. And it hurts too much.”

“I think we’re going to need that other bag of brownies.” Crystal heaved a heavy sigh and bit into the chocolate square.

Chapter 44

Jason and Jimbo pulled into his driveway. The two hadn’t made it to the front door before Elise’s car came to a complete stop behind Jason’s. Amelia and Chloe jumped out at the same time and ran up to Jason, each wrapping their arms around his waist.

“Hey, pumpkins. How was the week?” He hugged them back and gave each a kiss.

“We missed you,” Amelia said.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

Jason glanced up to see Elise make a graceful exit from her car. As always, she looked as if she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine with every detail attended to, down to the color of her nails matching her lipstick. She was a beautiful woman, but there was a severity about her he noted as she got closer.

He nodded. “Elise. You look good.”

Elise gave him a half nod, making eye contact first with him and then Jimbo.

Jason turned back to the girls and after tousling each head, he said, “Why don’t you two go on upstairs. I’ll be there in a little bit. Uncle Jim and I need to talk to your mom. Okay?”

“Okay,” the girls agreed in unison before scampering inside.

“What’s so important you had to speak to me in person?” Elise asked in a bored tone.

Normally that tone bothered Jason, but today it only amused him.

“Carl Carter,” he said, turning back to her after the front door closed behind the girls. When he smiled, the woman actually blushed. She definitely wasn’t expecting the question.

“Carl’s dead. I saw it on the news the other night,” Elise said, her voice slightly flustered. Then her smile hardened as she recovered. “Obviously your attorney’s been talking.”

“Think I’d never find out?” Jason snorted. “If not, then you haven’t learned much. Things always come back to haunt you.”

“Did you ask me here to give a lecture? If so, you forget. I no longer have to listen to them.”

“You’re right.” And he no longer had to give them. His smile grew into a wide grin. A sense of freedom he never thought to possess encompassed him. “I’m defending the wife, and I need to ask you about your relationship with the victim. Let’s go inside. I have a lot of questions, and it may take a while.”

Elise shrugged. “Sure. Only I don’t see what good it will do.”

Once inside his house, she glanced around and rolled her eyes. “Nice place,” she murmured. “Interesting décor.”

“I like it,” Jason answered, catching up with her while Jimbo, sporting an amused grin, stayed a few feet behind.

As they moved through the living room, Jason caught her horror-filled look after spotting his sofa. Her reaction annoyed him. Although the idea of forcing her to sit on something so ugly had a certain appeal, he couldn’t bring himself to be that cruel. Instead, he led her into the dining room.

Jason made a mental note. Get rid of the eyesore and buy something new, especially now that Claire’s in the picture. Maybe they could go shopping for sofas together.

“Why are you questioning me?” Elise asked, interrupting his thoughts while making herself comfortable on one of the dining room chairs.

After sitting, Jimbo pulled a pen and notebook from his pocket, making a quick note before he focused his attention on Elise.

“According to notes from an investigation Mr. O’Malley was conducting regarding Carl, you were seen going into his hotel room.” Jason had purposely sat across from Elise in order to gauge her expressions while they talked. “Care to tell me about that visit?”

“Since when do you call Jimbo Mr. O’Malley?” Elise practically purred, her smile as fake as a Gucci knockoff. “Also, you’ll have to be more specific on the visits. My memory, you know.”

“Okay. Tell me about your visit on Wednesday, June twenty-third, the day Carter died.” Ignoring her sarcasm, Jason flipped through the report Jimbo had prepared in advance, and then pierced her with an intense look. “That specific enough? You were seen entering Carl’s room at 2:45 p.m. and leaving two hours later.”

“You want a blow-by-blow description?”

“I’m not interested in all the seedy details. I only want to know if Carl was alive when you left.”

“Of course he was alive, though I sucked most of the life out of him.”

“Was that the last time you had any contact with him?”

“Physical contact?”

Jason nodded and paid no attention to her amused smile. If Elise thought she could be a chigger under his skin, as Jimbo would say, she could think again. He was well past caring about her sexual exploits.

“Yes,” she said, answering his question about physical contact. “But we talked on the telephone later that evening, had phone sex.” She was still goading him, he realized, when she caught his eye and said without shrinking, “He was an amazing lover. Something I’ve lacked over the years.”

Jason wanted to laugh but refrained, keeping his face expressionless. “Anything else unusual about the phone call once you finished?”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“Given it may have been the last time anyone heard from him before he was killed, I’m betting the police will want to know. So you’re better off formulating an answer now.”

“Always thinking like a lawyer, aren’t you?” she said, the words spoken with derision.

“Comes in handy.” He finally did show all his teeth. “You might even appreciate having an ex with that skill when the press learns of your involvement. They’re sure to latch onto the love-triangle angle. Has the potential to get a little ugly. You should seriously consider retaining your own lawyer.”

When she shifted in her seat, he smiled inside. His comments had rattled her. “Now that you fully understand the position you’re in, tell me more about your phone call.”

No mistaking her reaction, he thought, observing that overconfident grin fade to concern. His stayed in place, and got even wider.

“We made plans to meet again on Friday,” Elise said. “He was in very good spirits when I talked to him, and very much alive when I hung up.”

“Why not spend the night with him?”

“You forget I had to pick up the girls from the sitter.”

“Okay. What time did you talk to him?”

“About eight,” she offered. “I hung up a half hour later.”

“From your home line?”

“No. A cell phone, one he gave me. I still have it.”

“Can I take a look at it?” Jimbo asked, interrupting Jason’s next question.

“Sure.” Elise nodded, glancing at the PI. “But I don’t have it with me.”

“I’ll come by to pick it up.” Jimbo flashed a lazy smile. “I’ll call beforehand.”

“No problem.”

“Why a burner phone?”

Elise turned to Jason and shrugged. “He was always careful about using untraceable phones, for all the good it did him. He told me about his divorce. We consoled each other.” She broke off and stared at a distant point before saying, “But there is one thing that struck me as odd. We traded phones that afternoon.”

“That is odd,” Jimbo said as he looked up from the note he was writing. “Did he offer any reason why?”

When she shook her head, the PI asked, “Do you know offhand if he was seeing anyone else?”

“I kept him pretty occupied, so no. I never suspected another woman.” She snorted. “Of course, I heard all about what that conniving bitch did.”

“Conniving bitch?”

“Crystal Grayson.” Elise spoke the name as if it were decomposing flesh.

“She does play a little rough. Probably why she’s such an effective divorce attorney.” Jimbo waited a heartbeat. “And you never suspected another woman?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

He continued writing in his notebook, ignoring her.

When it was clear Jimbo had no more questions, Jason asked, “What did you do after the phone call?”

“Played a board game with the girls. We all went to bed around ten. I read for a couple of hours.”

“Okay. What about Friday?”

“He wasn’t in the room when I got there, so I left.”

“Why didn’t you contact the police?”

Her shoulder lifted carelessly. “I assumed he went back to his wife, and figured I’d hear from him sooner than later.”

“That didn’t bother you?” It could easily be her motive, Jason reasoned.

Her shrill laugh hurt his ears.

“He was a skilled lover, but no longer had the earning potential I require in a husband. Just so you know, he did offer.”

So much for motive. “Why didn’t you go to the police when you heard about his death in the news?”

“And do what? Give them a reason to suspect me? I’m not that stupid. There’s no proof I was ever there.”

The hard line of Jason’s mouth softened into a curl as his eyebrow quirked. “Now there’s where you’re wrong. I have proof, and soon, so will Deputy Snyder, the investigator in charge.”

Jason asked a few more questions, ignoring her posture of bristling outrage over his statement. He stood when it was obvious they’d get no more useful information.

“I guess that does it. Thanks for coming,” he said, and as she walked out, one thought remained.

How had he ever stayed married to her for so long?

• • •

Jason turned to Jimbo once the sound of the front door closing filled the silence. “This whole thing keeps getting more interesting.”

“Too bad the guy’s dead. He and Elise seem like a perfect couple.”

“They do, don’t they? Maybe she killed him. She had opportunity. Once the girls went to sleep.”

“Where’s her motive?”

“Good point.” Jason sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I suppose we’d better run this information by Snyder. He’s not going to like the fact that we kept it from him for so long. Could charge us with obstruction.”

“How? My files are confidential. Elise was seen leaving the hotel room on the day of the murder. We investigated, just like he’s doing. Can’t help it if we dug a little deeper, learned they were having an affair.”

Jason nodded. “I’ll call him to give him a heads-up.” He reached for his cell phone.

Jimbo walked up behind him just as he hung up from leaving a message for the deputy.

“He’s off duty until tomorrow morning.” Jason started for his fridge. “Want a beer?” When his friend nodded, he pulled one out. “I’m calling for pizza too. You going to stick around and help me paint?” He handed the beer to Jimbo before opening a bottle of wine and pouring a glass.

“I’d much rather see Crystal than spend the evening working next to your sorry ass.”

“You read my mind.”

Jason wasn’t offended. He’d much rather see Claire. Remembering the way she’d left his car earlier, he sighed and took a lengthy swallow of wine. He had some serious groveling to do. Might as well get to it.

“Let’s give them a call and see if we can scare up some company.”

Jimbo frowned and shook his head. “They’re not gonna want to come over here.”

“Sure they will.” When Jimbo’s expressions said no way, he asked, “Why not?”

“How’d you leave things with Claire? Did you give her that cold, distant look you used to give Elise?”

The noise coming from the back of his throat could only be called a disbelieving snort. “I don’t have a cold, distant look.”

“Wanna bet? You can be a son of a bitch when that moral outrage of yours gets going.”

“Let’s drop it. Your Dr. Phil impersonation’s getting old.”

Jimbo grunted. “Consider it payback for the free labor.”

Refusing to rise to his verbal bait, Jason ignored the comment. “Just to prove you wrong, I’m calling her.” He grabbed the phone and punched in Claire’s number.

After the second ring, a woman’s voice answered with, “Hello?”

“Claire?”

“No. She’s busy. Jason? That you?”

“Hello, Crystal.” He smiled into the phone. “Where’s Claire.”

“Why? Are your ears burning? We’ve been man bashing.”

“Ouch.” Jason cringed. “We’re doing pizza. Got the girls. We could make it a party. I need to make amends.”

“You got that right.” She broke off and Jason held his breath, not sure his peace offering would be accepted. He relaxed his shoulders when she said, “I’m game. Might be good for Claire to get out of the house. The press is outside, so we’re kind of stuck.”

“Jimbo’s here. He can drive my car into Claire’s garage, and you guys hide in it when he leaves.” He gave his friend a smug look. “That is, if you don’t mind seeing him. He thinks you’re avoiding him.”

“Total BS. Jimbo knows avoidance isn’t my style.”

“Good, I’m sure he’ll be relieved. He’s leaving now, so be ready to open the garage. He’ll call as he’s driving up.” Jason hung up and glanced over at Jimbo, grinning. “What?” he asked when the investigator gave him a dirty look.

“I’m picking them up?”

Jason laughed.

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Won’t cut it. You’re dying to, so just go. Bring ’em back. Take my car to throw off the reporters. I’ll order while you’re gone.” As he headed for the staircase, Jason threw him the keys. “I gotta check on the girls. What do you want on your pizza?”

“Surprise me,” Jimbo shouted on his way out the front door.

Chapter 45

Claire narrowed her gaze on her twin as Crystal laughed and said, “The cavalry’s on its way,” as she hung up the phone.

“What do you mean? What cavalry?”

“R & O.” When her eyebrows rose higher, Crystal added, “Roberts and O’Malley. They’re coming to our rescue.”

“Here? They’re coming here? With all those reporters camped out?” Alarmed, Claire shot back, “Jason’s the last person I want to see right now.”

“Chill, will you? Jason invited us for pizza. You’ll get to meet his girls.”

If Crystal thought that would convince her, it did the opposite. Meeting Jason’s girls now wouldn’t be wise. What if she liked them? Oh God. She had a pretty good idea she would, so it would mean one more thing to get over. Getting over Jason was hard enough.

“You go. I’ll stay here.”

“And do what? Wallow? I don’t think so.”

Noting the determination in her twin’s eye, Claire groaned.

Crystal grabbed her hand and practically dragged her toward the bedroom. At the closet, she halted and flipped through garments. After yanking an outfit off the hanger, she threw it at her.

“That’ll do.”

“I’m not going.” Holding the new green silk pants and halter top she’d bought with the original idea of enticing Jason, Claire stomped her foot. “And I’m not wearing this. Not tonight when Jason’s kids are there.”

“Yes, you are. Now, change.” Crystal entered her bathroom and started rifling through her cosmetics. “He’s your lawyer, and you need to confront him sooner or later. Trust me, sooner’s better. This way I can be there to give moral support.”

“I can’t,” Claire whispered, still clutching the green silk. “I’d feel funny wearing this.”

“You want a little revenge for the way he treated you this afternoon or not?” Crystal went searching for another outfit.

“I’m not that gutsy. I can’t be like you.”

“Yes, you can.” Crystal handed her some skinny jeans and another green silk blouse, this one a more modest short-sleeved version. “It’s all in your attitude.” She patted the bench in front of the vanity. “I’ll help. We’ll make him rue the day he ever doubted you. Leave him wanting.”

“You really think I can?” Claire complied because some little part deep inside her wasn’t averse to the idea. She smiled when she caught Crystal’s devilish expression in the mirror.

Grinning back, her twin winked. “Trust me.”

Famous last words. She hoped Crystal knew what she was doing.

• • •

Just as Crystal was finishing Claire’s makeup, Claire’s cell phone rang.

“Hit the garage door,” she heard in Jimbo’s smooth voice. “I’m driving up now.”

Claire did as he asked, then stood at the inner door to the garage and waited until the silver Mercedes pulled in. When it did, she quickly hit the button to shut out the nosy reporters.

“They think I’m your lawyer,” he said, once out of the car. “Hopefully, they won’t pay too much attention when I leave.”

Claire sensed Crystal’s presence and watched Jimbo’s gaze go beyond her shoulder. Interesting that he zeroed right in on Crystal, even though Claire was dressed to subtly maim the opposite sex, including makeup and shoes. Few had ever been able to tell them apart, especially when she looked more like Crystal than Crystal did at this moment.

“Red,” he murmured, flashing her twin a lazy smile.

How could Crystal dismiss him so easily? He was sexy in a rugged kind of way, Claire thought, watching her sister give him a wary nod.

Then his amused gaze moved to Claire’s and his smile broadened, giving her the full effect of his easy charm.

“You look like you’re ready for battle,” he said.

Her back stiffened. If her twin could resist him, then maybe she could resist Jason.

“She is, and she’s taking no prisoners.” Crystal wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Dressed like that, she could even seduce you, cowboy.”

Jimbo chuckled and put up his hands. “I surrender. I’m yours for the takin’, sweetheart.”

“The battle between us is over,” Crystal told him. “Just so we understand each other, there were no prisoners on either side.”

“You’re a hard woman.”

“Damn straight, I am. We’ll both be better off if you don’t forget it.” She pushed past him and opened the front passenger side door while Claire entered the backseat.

“Careful you don’t mess up your getup.” Jimbo climbed in and grabbed the wheel after accepting the garage door opener Claire handed him. “Can’t wait to see his reaction.”

Claire closed her eyes. She’d surely lost her mind. Both she and Crystal were bent over, hidden from view. She felt ridiculous. Ridiculous but beautiful. The effects of the time Crystal spent on her makeup, along with the skinny jeans she seldom wore, made her think someone else had taken over her body.

A few moments later, Jimbo said, “You can both sit up now. Coast is clear. No one’s following us.” When Claire sat up and caught his amused glint in the rearview mirror, he added, “They’ll probably give up watching your house once the timer turns out your lights.”

If felt like no time before they reached Jason’s house. Memories of the last time she’d been here flickered in Claire’s consciousness while walking toward the entrance. She stopped short, swallowed hard, and studied the house.

Fear must have shown on her face because Jimbo offered her an encouraging smile.

“Don’t stop now. We’re just getting to the good part.” When her gaze turned questioning, his grin widened. “Jason needs to be thrown off-balance a bit. I’m thinkin’ if anyone can trip him, it’d be you.”

Nodding, she inhaled a deep, calming breath to quell the millions of fluttering butterflies that had suddenly emerged from their cocoons in her stomach.

Jason had just rounded the corner as she stepped into the living room. He halted abruptly.

Jimbo reached out to close Jason’s dropped jaw. “Down, boy. Guess which one is yours.”

“Down yourself, cowboy.” Crystal shoved past them after grabbing Claire’s hand. “Claire and I don’t belong to either of you. Don’t read anything into this visit other than what it is. Avoiding reporters. Plus, Jason’s daughters are here, and he’s got pizza.”

Jimbo grinned and winked at Jason. “She’s softening toward me. I can tell.”

“Sure.” Jason trailed the three into the kitchen. “Whatever you say.”

“I thought you told me you were remodeling.” Crystal shook her head, clucking her tongue with disapproval as she took in the room. “Don’t you know most remodels start in the kitchen?”

“You don’t like it?” Jason’s gaze followed hers and he grinned. “I’ll have you know I spent good money on those appliances, and they work.”

“He’s got some weird idea they’re antiques,” Claire interjected, feeling a little braver now that she’d made it past the initial meeting.

Though the pinpricks of sensation on her neck told her Jason’s intense gaze was boring into her back, she ignored him. She could do this. He’d never know how much her heartbeat sped up at being this close, especially after noticing his unrestrained reaction only a moment ago.

“He’s obviously living under some misguided perception,” she added after taking another deep breath.

Jason opened the pizza boxes just as two girls, who could only be Amelia and Chloe, charged into the room.

The girls rushed over to their father. Claire took in the easy way they interacted with each other, impressed with their obvious expressions of love. They looked as if they belonged together. A pang of regret pierced her heart that she wasn’t part of it, and probably never would be.

“Girls, you know Ms. Grayson and Uncle Jimbo.” Jason nodded to the group. He indicated Claire. “And that’s Ms. Carter. I’m her lawyer. Claire, meet Chloe and Amelia.”

Claire smiled and put out her hand. Immediately, the older of the two children took it.

“I’m Amelia,” the girl said in a voice that seemed much more adult than her ten years allowed. “What’s my dad defending you for?”

“Amelia,” Jason said in a chiding voice. “Mind your manners.”

She rolled her eyes. Claire laughed as she let go of her hand.

“I’m Chloe.” The other child held out a tentative hand with a shy smile flitting across her face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Feeling as if she’d been offered a rare gift, Claire took the small hand. “How do you do, Chloe.”

In appearance as well as mannerisms, the two girls were as different as salt is from sugar.

“Now that the introductions are made,” Jason said, “grab a plate and dig in. We can eat in the dining room since my kitchen offends your sensibilities.”

“I don’t know. It grows on you, in a mold-on-cheese kind of way,” Claire said, then looked around and reached into one of the pizza boxes. She grabbed a couple of slices and placed them on a plate Jason provided, and headed for the dining room. The others weren’t far behind.

Once they’d made short work of most of the pizza, Claire found she was glad she’d followed Crystal’s advice. It was easy to ignore Jason while focusing on his kids. How sweet that Chloe seemed to take Claire under her wing and make sure she sat next to her.

Those few times she happened to glance up and catch Jason eyeing her gave her a sense of elation. At least the butterflies in her stomach calmed down enough to let her eat and enjoy the small triumph.

Chapter 46

Too often Jason’s gaze wandered in Claire’s direction, even after steadfastly making a mental point not to peek. Dressed in some flimsy concoction the color of emeralds that only highlighted those gorgeous eyes and porcelain skin, the woman drew his attention every time she moved.

“I won.” Chloe laughed and grabbed the last pile as she laid down a card, her third win playing her favorite game, Crazy Eights.

The festive atmosphere was anything but to Jason. To him, this was a total mistake. Having Claire so close and not being able to talk to her or touch her or beg for forgiveness was exhilarating misery.

Chloe, a normally shy child, had become little chatterbox. His daughter had obviously taken to Claire and vice versa. Every time his daughter said something, Claire always had an easy response.

“Anyone want more pizza? Lemonade? Wine? Beer?” He pushed away from the table. He needed a break—anything to get away before he did something stupid.

After taking orders, he headed for the kitchen.

“I’ll help.” Jimbo followed. Once they were out of earshot, he said in a low voice, “It’s gonna take more than pizza and red wine.”

“What?” Jason turned in mid-stride and cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

“She’s pissed at you. Even I can see that.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Has she made eye contact?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Has she?”

“No. She’s too busy talking to Chloe.” Jason shook his head and started for the fridge. “I can’t believe I’m jealous of my daughter.”

“What’d you do?”

“What do you mean, what’d I do? I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t buy that, old buddy. You gave her that look, didn’t you?”

Jason grunted, not dignifying Jimbo’s question with a response. What the hell did he know?

“You’d better apologize and pray she’s not like Crystal.”

“Claire’s not like Crystal.” Jason reached inside the refrigerator. “Besides, why am I listening to you? Crystal’s totally ignoring your ass.”

“She’s just doing that to rile me.” Jimbo shrugged. “At least I’m not mooning over her like some lovesick schoolboy.”

“I’m not mooning.”

“Yeah, right.”

Jason let the comment roll off his back, but a small part of it got caught.

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, slamming the door shut. “But I noticed a few of your covert glances, so don’t tell me she’s not riling you.”

Jason handed a beer to Jimbo he’d taken out of the fridge, and set the pitcher of lemonade on the counter, next to the open bottle of wine. He leaned against the counter, crossing both arms and legs.

Meeting his friend’s amused gaze, Jason sighed. “How am I supposed to apologize when I can’t figure a way to get her alone to do it? She’s using the girls as a shield. I never expected that when I invited her.”

“You should know better. She’s related to Crystal, so she’s bound to have some of those prickly genes.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I have a plan.” Jimbo laughed. “We work together. Once the girls go to bed, we divide and conquer.”

“Divide and conquer?”

“Improvise. Tell her you need to talk to her about the case and you’ll give her a ride home, anything to get her alone. Then while you’re doing that, I’ll take care of Crystal.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Jason picked up the drinks and headed back to the dining room.

Feminine laughter hit his ears. Claire had obviously won over his other daughter too.

Jason filled two glasses with lemonade and two with wine. As he sat, Claire met his eyes for a moment. After looking away, she ignored him as if he didn’t exist.

He sighed and took a big sip of wine. He’d definitely screwed up. For the rest of the game, he stewed and waited for his kids’ bedtime.

• • •

An hour later, Jason glanced at his watch and smiled. “Time for bed.”

“Oh, Dad. Can’t we stay up a little later?” Amelia asked in a petulant voice.

“You’ve already pushed it forty-five minutes.” His grin spread from ear to ear when he caught Claire’s eye. “We’ll have to invite everyone over again. Besides, I’m sure our guests are tired of playing Crazy Eights tonight.”

“I enjoyed it,” Claire murmured. The cards then became her main focus as she gathered them and stacked them neatly.

Patience. Just a few more minutes, and the girls would no longer be her shield.

Chloe stood and clutched Claire’s hand. “Can Ms. Carter take us to bed? I wanna show her my room.”

Jason frowned. “I don’t—”

“I’d love to,” Claire said, cutting him off and letting Chloe pull her out of the chair.

“I can show her my room too,” Amelia chimed in. She got up from the table and ran ahead of the two now headed up the stairs.

Jason turned to Crystal once the others were out of earshot. “Snyder wants you and Claire to take lie-detector tests.”

“Both of us?” Concern darkened her eyes.

He nodded. “I’m going along with it because I’m convinced Claire’s innocent.”

“Is he aware of my alibi?”

“Not yet. He thinks you’re in on it together, so you may want your lawyer present.”

“I’ll ask Stephens,” she said, mentioning another sharp criminal attorney Jason knew by name. “I’m not worried. Snyder has no proof.”

“Good.” Jason rose. Glancing at Jimbo, he said, “Would you mind taking Crystal to her car? I’ll give Claire a ride later. I want to go over a few things with her before our talk with Snyder.”

“Sure.” Jimbo sent Jason a pleased grin, and then looked at Crystal with raised eyebrows. “That is, if you’re not afraid to be alone with me.”

“Dream on, cowboy. You don’t scare me.” Her expression was smug as she focused on Jason and added, “And you don’t scare Claire, so you both can forget whatever plans you’ve made. They won’t work.”

Then she stormed out of the room ahead of Jimbo.

Chapter 47

Crystal caught Jimbo’s pleased expression as he slid in beside her and started his car.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, hotshot. You haven’t won anything.”

“I beg to differ,” he drawled as they pulled out of Jason’s driveway. “You’re sitting there, aren’t you?”

“I can remedy that.”

He let out a confident grunt.

So like Jimbo. Straightening her spine, she clenched her fists, unable to ignore the urge to poke a hole in that puffed-up bubble of certainty.

“You don’t think I’ll walk home?”

He glanced over and a hint of doubt swept over his features.

Good.

“I don’t think it,” he said, “I know it. But don’t go proving it.” Unfortunately, the confidence was back when he snared her gaze and winked. “Then I’d have to chase you down, hog-tie you, and throw you back in the car.”

Though he was grinning when he spoke, the steely edge in Jimbo’s tone made her think he wasn’t kidding. She swallowed hard and turned away, breaking the connection with those soulful bedroom eyes.

Retreat while you’re ahead and live to fight another day. That was her motto.

“Much better,” he said smugly. “We both know that once I got you subdued, I could untie the physical restraints and keep you tied up in other ways.”

Crystal’s gaze stayed focused on a streetlight up ahead while that sexy Southern inflection slid over her. Take a breath and let it out, she mentally commanded herself. Take another . . . and another . . . and another.

Damn, it was so annoying to realize the guy still had the power to set off goose bumps. Her arms and legs were covered with them, even after ten forced breaths. She waited until the reaction abated.

“Okay. I concede,” she said. “You won that round. You’re sexy as hell and hard to resist.” She glared at him and then gave him a coy smile. “Just don’t read anything into it. It’s only physical attraction. A drive to experience pure, undiluted sex, which I happen to like, and you’re damn good at delivering.”

Immediately his foot let off the gas pedal and the car slowed.

Oops. I’ve gone too far, she thought when the curve of his lips became a thin line. His whole body tightened, including his hands as they gripped the steering wheel after making a quick U-turn.

Her smile died. “My car’s still at Claire’s. And my place is in the opposite direction.”

“We’re not going to your place. Or Claire’s.” Jimbo shot a look her way. “You may want to rethink, though. You so much as touch that door, you won’t like the consequences.”

A tingle of excitement ran up and down her spine as the click of the automatic locks punctuated his statement. She couldn’t quite push away the anticipatory thrill.

Remember, Crystal. It’s only sex.

Yeah, right. Only sex. Too bad her heart didn’t receive the message.

Chapter 48

The instant the front door closed behind Jimbo and Crystal, Jason took the stairs two at a time, only stopping when he reached his daughter’s room. Leaning back against the doorjamb, he watched Chloe give a tour of her bedroom.

As Claire showed total interest in his daughter’s toys, he mentally rubbed his hands together, counting the seconds until he got her alone.

“Okay, you two have stalled long enough. Go get into your PJs and brush your teeth,” he said after Claire had inspected both rooms.

“Ah, Dad,” the pair said in unison.

He only stared at them, giving the girls his father-knows-best look, and waited.

Amelia sighed, but Chloe grabbed Claire’s hand.

“You can keep us company.”

“I’d like that.” Claire smiled.

A pang hit him. Damn. How could he be jealous of his kids, for Christ’s sake? But jealousy was there, lurking just under the surface.

Claire’s giggle shot straight to his groin. Jealousy was too mild a word for what he felt observing Claire’s obvious joy when Chloe pulled her along. He’d figure out a way to get her to look at him like that again. He had to.

But what if she never did? What if she wouldn’t listen to him? What if she wouldn’t forgive him?

No! Stop thinking what-ifs. Claire was obviously a reasonable human being.

He’d screwed up, and he would fix it.

Amelia finished first. She nodded a good-night to Claire and then gave him a big hug, along with a quick kiss.

“’Night, Dad.”

“Good night, sweetie.”

He followed Claire into Chloe’s room.

After saying good night and kissing his youngest daughter, he grabbed Claire’s hand.

“Stalling’s over.” He headed for the second-story family room and led her over to the big sofa. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” Claire’s gaze swept the room before she sat. “Where is everyone?”

“They left.”

She rose. “Then it’s time for me to go too.” She started for the door.

“Sit.”

She stopped in mid-step and pivoted. A fierce expression crossed her face, reminding him of a fierce Amazon warrior preparing for battle. She wasn’t about to meekly submit to his demand without a fight.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your lawyer.” Jason nodded at the seat next to him. “And as such, I’m telling you to sit so we can discuss the case.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m replacing you.”

Claire crossed her arms, and her expression remained severe. A moment later, her foot started tapping. He stared at her without blinking as she continued tapping, then stopped and waited.

Her chin jutted out a little further. “Did you hear me? I’m replacing you.”

“Like hell you are.” Jason ignored her icy tone, made colder with that glacial glare.

“I don’t need or want you, so I’d appreciate it if you’d take me home.”

“That’s too damn bad. I’m not taking you home. Not yet, anyway. You’re stuck with me until this is over.”

“Don’t tell me that, you . . . you,” she stammered. “I want to go home. If you can’t take me, then call a cab for me.”

When it was obvious he wasn’t responding the way she wanted, the ice melted. She exploded.

“I don’t need someone who isn’t behind me one hundred percent.” Her voice rose, becoming a shout. “You got that, Mr. High-Priced Lawyer?”

“I am behind you, or you wouldn’t be here,” he yelled, matching her in volume.

He was off the sofa and in her face in three steps. Why the woman caused him to lose it, he had no idea. But he was past angry.

“Now, sit down so we can discuss this like two civilized adults.”

“No. I don’t have to listen to you.”

Jason clenched his teeth and inhaled deeply, clamping down tightly on the thin control of his temper. It took several breaths before he could speak calmly.

“We need to talk. Please just sit. It shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ve made up my mind. Your services are no longer required.”

Even though she met his gaze, there was no real connection. Her features had slammed shut, as closed as that first day he took her to see Snyder.

“I’d like to go home,” she repeated. “Now.”

“Damn,” Jason muttered.

How had he gone backward? Her body language clearly stated she wasn’t about to open so much as a crack.

Sighing, he stood up to get his phone and call for a taxi.

• • •

“Daddy,” Amelia yelled the next morning.

“What?” Jason shouted back.

“Phone.”

He dropped the hammer and wiped his hand on his worn and faded jeans. After grabbing the kitchen extension, he put the receiver against his shoulder.

“Thanks, I got it.”

“Hello?”

“Mr. Roberts. Deputy Snyder, returning your call.”

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”

“I was hoping your call meant you’ve reconsidered the lie-detector test and talked to your client.”

“Actually, that’s the main reason I called. To schedule one.”

“Is later today too early? I know it’s a Saturday, but I can set it up.”

“What time?”

He wrote the time down as he heard Snyder say, “I’d like to test both sisters together. Do you think you can arrange for Crystal Grayson to come in too?”

“I can try. I’ll give you a call back to confirm.”

“Great.”

“There’s another reason for my call,” he said before the deputy could hang up.

“Oh?”

“Some information my investigator dug up. Carter had another visitor during that last week. Same person visited him on the day he died. We talked to her, and she vouched for his health.”

“You got a name?”

“Elise Roberts, my soon-to-be ex-wife.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“No. I don’t joke about things like that.”

“This guy got around.”

“Understatement,” Jason said, smiling. “Blows your motive all to hell, though.”

“Not necessarily,” Snyder said after a lengthy moment of silence. “They’re still the best suspects.”

“You won’t think so after you see what my guy’s unearthed, which along with the lie detector should prove my client didn’t do it. I’ll bring it with me when I drive down.”

“Can’t you e-mail it?”

“Now, why would I do that?”

“Make my job easier, since you just made it harder. Now I’ve got to talk to this other woman.” Snyder’s voice sounded weary. “I can’t let go of the idea that the sisters did it so easily.”

“You will once I e-mail this stuff,” Jason said, taking pity on him even if his statement annoyed him. “Besides, you don’t want easy if the wrong persons take the rap, do you?”

“Just get those two in here, and send me any info. I’ll check it out. Thoroughly,” Snyder said in a gruff voice before he disconnected the call.

Jason then called his client.

“Claire? It’s Jason,” he said. “Snyder just called. Set up a time for a lie-detector test.”

“You’ll have to cancel. I’ll have another lawyer reschedule.”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“I’m not particularly interested in what you would do. I thought I was clear about that last night.”

“You were, but we left things unsettled. This can be wrapped up this afternoon. At least your part and Crystal’s. Why bring in a new person? All that’ll do is feed the press, give them something else to talk about.”

Claire’s silence was deafening, sending a prickle of unease up his spine. Jason held his breath and looked toward the heavens.

“What time?”

The stiff line of his shoulders relaxed as he told her.

Chapter 49

Claire panicked a little when Crystal tucked her cell phone into her purse and returned to the table in the interview room to say, “I’m sorry to desert you like this. One of my clients is having problems with her abusive husband. Jason will have to take you home. I’ll meet you back at your house as soon as I can. Okay?”

“Sure.” Claire forced a smile, not at all happy with the thought of riding in a confined car with Jason for so long. She’d ridden to the station with Crystal, who was now abandoning her. Her glance sought out the deputy. “How much longer?”

“Just a few more questions.” Snyder looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes. A half hour at the most.” He turned to Crystal. “I appreciate the file on Carter and Elise Roberts. Gives me something to focus on, now that you two have been ruled out as suspects.”

“You have my number if you have any questions.” Crystal nodded good-bye and left the sheriff’s office with her lawyer.

“You’re ruling Crystal out entirely?” Jason said to Snyder, drawing Claire’s attention. “I thought you said her polygraph was inconclusive.”

“No. The operator felt she held something back. A few inconsistencies in the patterns.”

“What if she’s lying?”

“The machine would’ve caught it. It’s an effective tool, not an exact science. Since her alibi checked out, she’s no longer a suspect. Which leaves us with Elise Roberts.”

“Elise doesn’t have a motive.”

“None that we can see.” Snyder clicked his pen a few times and tossed it on his desk. His hand moved to his forehead, and with thumb and middle finger, he rubbed as if his head hurt.

A pang of sympathy hit Claire as she noted the dark circles under the deputy’s eyes. He looked as if he needed a good night’s sleep. And his clothes looked like they could use an iron.

In the two hours they’d been sitting answering his questions, Snyder had drunk coffee nonstop. He took another sip, keeping his focus on Jason.

“I lived with her for eleven years,” Jason said. “Believe me, she’s as transparent as a sheet of cellophane, and has about as much depth.”

“Maybe Carter changed her. What if we’re looking at this from a wrong angle, and the two of them planned this from the beginning?” Snyder’s attention moved to Claire. “You admitted you didn’t know about the clause in your partnership agreement. Once you found out, a chain of events played out, maybe causing him to act as he did. And who better to make plans with than the other woman?”

Jason gave an unconcerned shrug, but Claire caught the flicker of doubt that clouded his eyes before it cleared and his face became an unreadable slate again.

Nothing more of his thoughts showed in that stoic mask, a habit that drove her to want to pull her hair out by the roots. Her hands tightened into a fist. When the pain her fingernails inflicted registered, she released them and sighed. Probably just as well they weren’t a couple any longer, if four days with loads of incredible sex constituted being a couple.

“Money’s a big motivator.

Snyder’s voice disrupted her morose deliberations, and she glanced at him.

“The loan Carter tried to take out was for ten million dollars. That along with the proceeds from the stock sales amounts to over eleven million. Eleven million compelling reasons.”

“Doesn’t wash.” Jason’s tone was adamant.

“What if Elise killed him because he botched it? Ruined her plans.”

That comment elicited a reaction from Jason, but it was so subtle, Claire wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined before Jason banked the look and rebutted.

“You’re way off base—”

“Her alibi’s a little shaky.”

“She has two kids who were with her.”

“Easy enough to slip out while they were asleep. Happens more than you know.”

“You gotta be looking at others. What about those closest to him at Claire’s Collections? Have you cross-examined them? Looked into their lives? Maybe there’s something missing.”

The deputy’s face tightened. “I’m not overlooking anything, no matter how much work it takes.”

“Including Amy Denton and Gwen Anderson?”

“I see where you’re going. Unfortunately, both have been cleared. Their alibis are solid. Denton has two friends who vouched for her, and Anderson said she was with a sleaziod. Her word, not mine.” Snyder grimaced. “She didn’t exaggerate about the guy. Not a pleasant fellow, but John Myers corroborated her story.”

Jason nodded. “It’s probably a dead end, but I’ve asked my guy to talk with them.”

“I interviewed all of them thoroughly. It’s in the file, if you want to read it again.” Snyder glanced expectantly at Claire. “That brings us to you and your opinion of others in the company. Anyone else close to Carl?”

“As far as I could tell, he wasn’t close to anyone. We have a few friends, but I cut back on socializing when sales with the company took off two years ago. Since that time, I didn’t really pay much attention to what Carl did while I worked.”

Maybe if she had, he’d still be alive. But as soon as the thought came out, she discarded it. This was not her fault. She wasn’t about to feel guilty over what she did or didn’t do in their relationship.

“Talking about it might jog your memory.”

Claire nodded. The entire time Snyder grilled her, she prayed for escape.

• • •

“So we’re back to square one?” Jason glanced at Claire after putting up with her sulking during the ride home.

Though elation had surged through him when he realized he’d have time alone with Claire in the car, the sensation had long since dissipated. The brooding silence picked at his self-confidence, shard by shard, whittling away the idea that he could fix things, leaving only hope. And that hope was dwindling. Fast.

“What?”

Those beautiful eyes met his, but the warmth had gone out of them. Her smile also seemed forced, even icy, sending his last bit of hope spiraling into nothing.

“After all we’ve been through in the past month, I can’t believe you won’t talk to me.” He placed his hand over hers, keeping it there.

Claire didn’t respond right away. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke softly. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry, Jason. You were right. I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Ready or not, that’s what we have. Can you deny how good we are together?”

“That was only sex and raging hormones, and maybe even a little stupidity thrown in. I have to figure out what I need, not what you need. I realize that now.” She turned her attention back to the passing scenery. “I’m sorry.”

Hell! What could he say that she hadn’t already?

For the rest of the drive, he couldn’t block out the pain. Her rejection hurt. More than anything Elise had ever done.

How had they ended up like this? Like complete strangers, he thought as he escorted her to the front door. His heart tore in two when that same door closed in his face after she scurried inside.

Jason turned and slowly walked back to his Mercedes with his head down, unimaginably, unequivocally, completely, and utterly without hope.

Chapter 50

The cool darkness was a welcome relief as Claire closed her front door and leaned against it. She rubbed her temples, praying the throbbing would cease.

At least the reporters were gone. Considering how she felt, it was small consolation.

More pain shot through her at the memory of Jason’s searching, pleading look. But the moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized, they held too much truth. She couldn’t take them back.

A few tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, refusing to cry.

She kicked off her shoes and padded to her bedroom. After plopping on the bed, she closed her eyes and struggled to forget everything that had happened in the past few weeks. The numbness setting in made the task easier.

• • •

The pounding woke her.

Where was she?

Claire blinked, dazed. For a moment she couldn’t think.

Then the pounding returned. Recognition set in. She heard what sounded like Jason’s panicked voice.

“Claire . . . Claire? Are you in there?”

She sat up and looked around, blinking as she tried to focus her eyes. The acrid scent of fire stole her breath away. When her vision cleared, she noticed the smoke.

Instantly, she snapped wide awake. She ran into the bathroom and wet a towel with one thought. Why hadn’t the smoke detector gone off?

Oh God. Flames were visible and scorching heat hit her neck. Flames!

“Claire!”

Jason’s yelling and hammering with his fist cut through her crippling thoughts. Reacting, she put the wet towel over her head to block out the wall of smoke that now filled the bedroom. Then she rushed to the sliding glass door overlooking the canal, felt for the latch, and threw it open.

“I’m here,” Claire said after stumbling around the the house to where Jason still frantically pounded on the front door.

“Thank God!” The concern in his voice matched the worry carved into his expression. He ran over and wrapped his arms around her to pull her tightly against him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded as a red car turned into the driveway, catching her attention. Jason released one hand so she could turn. Crystal emerged from her BMW.

“What the hell’s going on?” She sprinted toward them and pulled Claire into a hug. Glancing at Jason, she asked, “Have you called 911?”

He shook his head. “No time. She just now came outside.”

When Claire’s gaze moved to her burning house, tears started flowing as her legs buckled under her. If Jason hadn’t put his arm around her once Crystal let go, she would have fallen to the ground.

“Everything’s burning,” she murmured as Crystal pulled out her cell phone.

“Shush. It’s okay.” Jason’s consoling words were anything but.

“It’s not okay. My house is on fire,” she yelled, not caring that she was out of control.

“You’re safe.” Jason pulled her into his embrace again. When his soothing hands slid up and down her back, she quickly forgot her resolve of keeping him at a distance. Right now, she needed his warmth and his strength much more than she needed detachment.

“I was sound asleep. The smoke detector didn’t go off.”

She gaped in disbelief at the sight of her precious house engulfed in flames. The house was and always had been hers, not Carl’s, just like her boat. Tearfully, Claire watched it burn, slowly disintegrating into charcoal.

She remembered Jason’s comment on that evening he’d taken her to Antonio’s. While his life had broken into shards of glass from shattered dreams, hers burned into spent ashes. That about summed up her life at this point. Spent ashes.

Later, once the raging fire had abated, reducing her house to rubble, Jason held her close. “Come on. You’re in no condition to be on your own.”

Claire nodded. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t been there.

Jason looked at Crystal expectantly. “Can you deal with the authorities?”

“Sure.” Crystal nodded.

Numb, Claire let him guide her to his car and help her climb inside. Disengaged, like gazing from a void, her gaze stayed glued to his progress as he slid behind the wheel.

He headed north, toward his house. “You can stay with me until this is over.”

“I can’t do that,” she whispered. “You have kids to think about.”

“Platonically. You can stay in the guest room.”

“No. I can’t.” She wasn’t sure he heard her because he didn’t say anything for several miles.

Finally, he said, “I have no intention of taking anything from you, and I’ll give you anything you need to help you determine what you want. Right now, you need a friend. Let me be that friend. I mean what I say, Claire. No matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend.”

“I appreciate your help, but I should stay with Crystal.”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“You forget. I fired you.” Forcing a smile, she blinked back tears.

The look Jason shot her told her didn’t find her wan attempt at humor funny. “The fireman I talked to indicated a few suspicious circumstances surrounding the fire. It’s being investigated as arson. I want you with me where I can keep an eye on you.”

When he glanced over, his gaze said it all. He was worried. Someone had set her house on fire. Deliberately? To kill her? He clearly believed it.

At least the numbness was wearing off, because at that moment pain ripped through her.

“You said your smoke detector didn’t go off. Why?” Jason gripped the steering wheel harder. “If I hadn’t turned around and come back, God only knows what would’ve happened.”

“Why did you come back?” Claire asked, not wanting to think about someone trying to kill her.

“It doesn’t matter why. The point is, I did. The fire wasn’t accidental, and I’m not about to let something else happen.”

Jason’s rationalization mirrored her thoughts, making the decision for her. She felt safe with him, so she’d stay with him.

Chapter 51

Sunday afternoon, Claire pulled up bits of linoleum from Jason’s kitchen floor. Both his girls were busy at the task, as were Crystal and Jimbo.

How had Jason gotten everyone’s full cooperation?

She had to laugh at the answer. The man was obviously a clever manipulator. Crystal was here for her, and Jimbo was here for Crystal. The girls most likely were trying to impress Claire.

Yep, very clever.

She ripped at a large piece and tossed it in the trash. Staying at Jason’s had its ups and downs. While he made tearing up his kitchen floor a party—a significant up—the exertion negated the effect. Hard work was definitely a down. Still, working kept her busy, another up. It also gave her time to think about her situation, another down.

And that was exactly how she felt right then. Up one minute and down the next. Ready to cry one moment, and laughing at something Chloe or Amelia did the next.

Would her life ever settle into a flat line? Moisture filled her eyes, and she hurriedly wiped it away. That was exactly what her life had been before she met Jason. One flat line.

“Lunch is served,” Jason said, entering the room with a big brown bag.

“Easy for you to act so cheerful,” Jimbo said as he rose to his feet. He grabbed the bag and headed for the cupboards, placing their lunch on the counter before pulling out plates. “You haven’t been slaving for the past hour.”

“I bought lunch.”

“And it better be good.” Jimbo divvied up the deli sandwiches and chips. “At least this stuff is a level above that—” He hesitated and looked at the girls. “That fast food you always eat.” Then he grinned at Jason, who was giving him a dirty look.

Smiling behind a stretch, Claire was used to the two men’s banter. “I’m ready for food.” She got up and reached for a sandwich. “I’m starving.”

They were always at it, one-upping each other. In fact, Claire was becoming quite used to everything in this household after only twenty-four hours here.

Crystal came up behind her, making Claire realize how lucky she was to have both of them. Crystal made up for everything Jason lacked, making sure Claire had the basic necessities that had burned in the fire.

She grabbed a drink and moved to sit at the kitchen table, another ugly but functional piece of furniture. Chloe sat on her right and Amelia on her left.

Claire bit into her sandwich and looked around at their efforts while chewing. More than half done, the wood underneath already gave a good indication of what the room would look like, even with the hideous appliances. Somehow the wood took away a bit of the harshness in their unsightly colors.

“I can’t believe someone covered up that hardwood,” she said once everyone was seated. “Will it take much to refinish?”

“It’s a job. Made easier with the right tools,” Jason said. “I won’t start on it till the new appliances are in and I install the new countertops.”

“I hope you picked a decent color,” Crystal said with much derision in her voice.

“I’m going with black granite. It works with the stainless appliances.” He turned to Claire. “That is, if you approve?”

“Black’s a great color,” she said evasively, unsure why he was asking her.

Although she’d only been here a day, the man had been a perfect gentleman, never wavering on his promise. Still, there was something in the way he asked the question that made her slightly uncomfortable. As if her opinion mattered.

“And when does all this take place?” Claire’s attention refocused on her sister as she added, “Anything’s an improvement on your antiques.”

Jason’s face lit with a smile. “At the end of the week. If you’re interested, I’ll sell them to you.”

Crystal scrunched up her nose. “You couldn’t give them away.”

“Now, there’s where you’re wrong. Goodwill is picking them up. They’ll go to a good home. Someone who can appreciate their uniqueness.”

“You mean someone who’s desperate.”

• • •

“You want a beer?” Jason asked Jimbo as he grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and poured.

Claire and Crystal were upstairs watching a video with the girls. They’d worked for their reprieve, he thought as he surveyed their results. A grin took over his face. Definitely a good day. The floor would be ready to refinish in no time. And the task kept Claire’s mind off her troubles.

“Yeah. I’ve earned it.” Jimbo pulled one from the fridge, popped the tab, and took a long drink. “I should change professions. I’d make more money if I charged you for manual labor.”

“You do all right. Besides, today gave you a chance to be with Crystal.”

“For all the good it’s done me.”

“I thought you two were an item again.” Jason leaned against the counter. He covered his amusement in the act of sipping red wine.

“A night of lovemaking doesn’t erase difficulties.” Jimbo sighed and brought the can up to his lips. He guzzled, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and snorted. “She’s not responding. And God knows I’ve tried.”

“You need to work on your Texas charm.”

“Humph,” was all he said. “I heard from the fire inspector. Claire’s fire was definitely no accident.”

“Oh?” Jason’s smile died and his back straightened. His full attention moved to Jimbo’s face.

“Yeah.” He took another chug of beer before adding, “An incendiary device triggered by a transmitter set off an accelerant to maximize the fire spreading. Whoever did it was close by. Within a mile. Also, the smoke detector was disabled. No batteries.”

Jason’s gaze shifted to his wineglass as he absorbed this information.

“Talked to Snyder too. He’s been busy with his idea that your ex is involved. Seems there’s quite a bit of circumstantial evidence pointing to her.”

“When he comes up with something more substantial, I’ll believe it. Too much about this case seems to be what someone else wants us to think.”

Elise had no motivation to kill Claire, so Jason couldn’t accept her as a suspect. Plus, Crystal had never been fully exonerated. Had she left Key Largo early to set off the device? Interesting how she was right behind Jason when he arrived at Claire’s house.

“Elise isn’t involved in Claire’s house fire. It’s someone close.” Instead of voicing his suspicions about Crystal, he said, “But check it out. And while I’m thinking about it, have you checked out the alibis of those closest to Claire?”

“Snyder’s thorough, I’ll give him that. So far, they all check out. Just have to talk to Gwen Anderson’s jerky guy and one other of Denton’s dinner partners, a Bill Perry. I’ll do that tomorrow.”

Jason nodded and brought the glass to his lips. While Jimbo was checking into those alibis, he’d check out Crystal’s.

Chapter 52

After a long lunch with Jason on Monday, Jimbo strode into his office and picked up the phone.

“Yeah?” a voice answered on the third ring.

“John Myers?”

“Last time I checked.”

“Mr. Myers, this is Jim O’Malley,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m investigating a murder. I’d like to talk to you about it.”

“You’re talking to me now, aren’t you?”

“Not over the phone. You got a few minutes to spare this afternoon?”

“Is this about Gwen Anderson?”

“Yes.”

“I told the deputy everything I know.”

“I have a few more questions.”

“There’s not much to add. Look, I’m rather busy. Check with the deputy. I spent the evening with Gwen and left her place around eleven. That’s all I have to say.”

The final click hit his ears and Jimbo sighed. “Okay,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll go with that.”

He spent an hour flipping through the information Jason had copied. Then he made note of the restaurant Amy Denton and her friends had frequented that night, as well as where Gwen Anderson had spent the evening. After looking online for addresses, he grabbed his car keys and headed out.

Twenty minutes later, he strode inside a trendy restaurant along the Intracoastal Waterway. The waiter he wanted to talk to was on break, so Jimbo sat at a table in his section and waited. When the kid eventually came out, Jimbo showed him the picture of Amy Denton, asking about the night and what he remembered.

The kid was a wealth of information. He remembered the group and recalled that the one in the picture left early because she wasn’t feeling well after she got a phone call.

“But she paid for the meal?” That was what Snyder’s file read.

The kid shrugged. “It was a valid card that worked. I never checked IDs.”

“Did you tell this to the deputy?”

“He never asked. Just asked if they were here, and I said yes.”

Guess that was good enough for Snyder. So much for being thorough. Jimbo thanked him, tipped him a twenty, and moved on to his next destination, Checkers Bar and Grille. Once inside the dark, cool room, he strode up to the bar.

“What’ll you have?” a clean-cut bartender asked. He wore a striped shirt that sported several buttons with all kinds of crazy sayings.

“Beer. Whatever’s on draft is fine.”

The bartender nodded, quickly grabbed a glass, and flipped the lever. The glass filled with beer and foam.

“Thanks,” Jimbo said when the bartender placed a full beer in front of him. He took a swig, which tasted good going down. He nursed his drink, watching the guy wipe down the bar and wait on another customer at the other end. Business was slow right now, between lunch and happy hour.

“You want another?” The bartender stopped in front of him and began washing a few glasses.

“No, I’m fine.” Jimbo kept his gaze on him while he worked. “Not a busy time of day, is it?”

“Never is, unless it’s the weekend.”

“You work here long?”

“About a year. Working my way through grad school.”

They chatted about random things for a few minutes.

“Maybe you can help me?” Jimbo said after the conversation died.

When the bartender glanced at him with a question in his eyes, Jimbo flashed a lazy smile. “I’m on a fact-finding mission, looking for information.” He pulled out two pictures, one of Gwen Anderson and one of John Myers. “Ever see these two in here?”

The guy wiped his hands on a towel before taking the pictures and scanning them thoroughly.

“He looks familiar.” He broke off and his gaze went back to the photos for a moment. “Yeah. He’s a regular. But I don’t remember seeing her. Sorry.”

“Regular meaning he comes in a lot?” Jimbo took the pictures from him.

He nodded. “Decent tipper. He’s usually here before happy hour ends and usually alone. Since my shift’s over at seven, I don’t know how late he stays.”

“You remember seeing him three weeks ago? Wednesday, June twenty-third, to be exact.”

“I was out that week. Vacation with my parents.” He shrugged as if to say, I know it’s not cool. Then he grinned. “They spring for some great trips, so it’s worth tagging along.”

“Is there someone I can talk to? Someone who was here that night?”

“You might check with Richards. He usually works Wednesday nights.”

“Richards. He got a first name?”

“Doug.”

“Know when this Doug Richards will be working again?”

“I can check the schedule.” He went to the back room and came out a moment later. “His next shift is Wednesday at four.”

“Thanks.” Jimbo pulled out a twenty and dropped it on the bar before he walked out.

• • •

Half an hour later, Jimbo pulled up to the guardhouse at Elise’s gated development.

“Jim O’Malley to see Elise Roberts,” he said to the guard. “We have an appointment.”

“Go ahead. You’re on the list.” The traffic control arm lifted and the guard waved him through.

Once he got to Elise’s front door, Jimbo rang the bell. After no response, he knocked and waited. When she still hadn’t answered minutes later, he glanced at his watch.

“She said three o’clock and it’s five after. Where the hell is she?”

He pressed the bell numerous times and pounded again. Frustrated, he walked over to the window and peered inside. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he did a three sixty, checking things out as he went. He headed for the backyard, intending to get a better look inside from the rear.

At the open gate, he stopped short as a spot of color pulled his gaze. He sucked in air.

“Shit!”

While running toward the deck, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. The sight of Elise’s inert form, lying facedown in the middle of the pool, chilled him to the bone.

He barked sharp orders into the phone, giving the dispatcher on the other end brief instructions before tossing aside his phone and diving in.

Once he had Elise on the patio, he bent over and pinched her nose, doing CPR. Her warm body told him it wasn’t entirely a useless effort, so he continued working on Elise until he heard sirens.

Within minutes, a Palm Beach County sheriff’s deputy came barreling through the gate.

“O’Malley? Is she responding?” the officer asked as he knelt beside him.

“Barely. I finally got a pulse after three minutes,” he replied, recognizing Charlie Dolan as he took over. “Water’s come out of her mouth, but she’s not breathing on her own yet.”

“Here, I’ll take over. What can you tell me about her?”

“Thanks.” Jimbo stood, and the deputy started CPR. “Like I told the dispatcher, she was floating facedown when I got here. Name’s Elise Roberts. We had an appointment.”

The officer continued CPR until the gate opened, and two medics with a gurney charged past Jimbo moments later.

“She’s got a pulse and breathing on her own, but it’s labored.” Dolan stepped back and let the medics work.

In minutes, Elise’s unconscious body was on the stretcher with the medics pushing it toward an ambulance.

Still dripping water from his dive, Jimbo watched Dolan speak in a low tone into his phone as he paced.

When he was done, Dolan stuffed the phone in his pocket and looked around, gradually pivoting. “Wait out here.” The deputy grabbed his flashlight and started for the house.

“Find anything?” Jimbo asked once Dolan returned and handed him a towel.

“What else can you tell me about her?” Ignoring his question, the officer indicated the direction the medics had disappeared and pulled out a notebook with pen from his pocket. “You said you had an appointment?”

“Yeah. We made arrangements to meet this morning. She was helping me on a case I’m working. Had a cell phone that may or may not be tied to a murder investigation.”

“This the cell phone?” Dolan said, holding one up with a gloved hand.

Jimbo shook his head. “Don’t know without looking at it.”

“Too late. Now it’s part of this investigation.” The officer stuck the phone into a plastic bag and handed him a pair of gloves. “Put these on, and I’ll let you look at her dartboard before everyone gets here.”

“Dartboard?”

“Yeah. You gotta see this.”

Jimbo dried off as best he could, and followed Dolan inside after putting on the latex gloves.

“Looks like she was drinking. Also, there’s a bottle of pills.”

Jimbo picked up the bottle and read the label. “Tranquilizers. Maybe she mixed the two and had an accident.”

“Maybe. Nothing’s been disturbed.”

He nodded, looking around the room until his gaze caught what Dolan had been talking about. Pictures of Claire, her head in the center of a target drawn in Magic Marker, stared back at him. Dozens of photos in various poses taken on various days were tacked to the board, and all with holes made from darts that were sitting on the counter.

“Holy shit!” He moved to take one and inspect it. Yep. Definitely photos of Claire, not Crystal. He could tell them apart. “Looks as if she’s carrying a bit of a grudge.”

“Appears that way.”

Jimbo sighed and shook his head. “Maybe Snyder’s on to something.”

“Snyder?”

“Deputy down in Key Largo. He’s trying to find a murderer who stabbed and dumped a body a couple of weeks ago.”

“I heard about that. I recognize this face. Wasn’t she a suspect for a while?”

Jimbo nodded. “She was cleared. Then her house caught fire. Not accidentally.” He indicated the wall of targets. “Could be Elise Roberts had something to do with it. Definitely some hatred showing here.”

He threw the picture on the counter. “I’ve got a few things to check up on. Do you need me any longer?”

Dolan stood up. “I need a statement. It shouldn’t take long. Let’s go outside. Forensics should be here soon.”

Chapter 53

“What do you think?” Jason asked Jimbo as they sat down to lunch on Wednesday, two days after Elise’s near drowning.

His ex was in a coma at a nearby hospital in intensive care. He prayed she’d recover, prayed even harder she wasn’t responsible for killing Carl or burning Claire’s house. But the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he needed more than prayer.

“Let’s look at it objectively.” Jimbo placed his elbows on the table. “Cut through all the layers.”

“That’s the freaking problem. Nothing about this case has been clear from the very beginning. What would motivate Elise?”

“Don’t know, but the shit Snyder’s uncovered is hard to ignore. He’s been busy.”

Jason expelled a long breath. “That’s an understatement. I wonder if the guy sleeps.”

He took a bite of the salad the waitress had placed in front of him. Snyder’s digging was tunneling directly in Elise’s direction, banishing all thoughts of Crystal’s involvement.

Glancing over at Jimbo, he said, “I feel like I’ve been run over by a bulldozer. It’s so freaking hard to believe Elise is responsible, that she accidentally almost drowned plotting Claire’s demise.”

“If those pictures weren’t convincing enough, what he found in her computer clinches it. We can’t overlook that transaction, the one pointing to Claire, diverting the proceeds from the stocks Carter sold. It came directly from the laptop. How’d she get that kind of information?”

“God only knows,” Jason said, shaking his head in disbelief. “How could I live with her for eleven years and not know?”

And how could she have the pieces to create an incendiary device on hand, much less have the knowledge to implement one? Of course, her computer had links to websites detailing that information. He never thought Elise was capable of such things.

“People change,” Jimbo said sagely.

“But is she a demented killer?”

Jason rubbed his temple, feeling empty, both physically and emotionally drained. How would his girls get through this? How would Claire get through this? Hell, how would he get through this?

“What about that Myers guy?” he asked, grasping at straws, anything to keep from facing the truth about his ex. “You finish checking on their story?”

“He’s uncooperative. So far his account’s accurate. I’m heading over later this afternoon to question the bartender who waited on them, just to tie it up with a neat little bow. But the way I see it, Gwen Anderson’s as big a dead end as the others in her office. Which leads us back to Elise. Dolan let me examine her cell phone.”

“Did I push her to it?”

“I’m still checking on the assistant too.” Jimbo’s voice hardened. “You aren’t responsible, Roberts.”

“If not, then why do I feel responsible? For Claire too, only she won’t let me in.”

“Give it time.”

“Screw time. I’ve given her time.”

Okay. Five days didn’t constitute a lot of time. Still, Jason hadn’t pushed, though he wanted to—in a big way.

And now his patience grew thin. Silk-thread thin and chafing. Waiting for her to decide what she wanted was killing him inch by inch. Every day he watched, unable to do anything as she distanced herself further.

Couldn’t she see how good they were together? How the girls responded to her stable, warm influence? She fit into his life as if she’d always been there.

The concern Claire showed for Elise over the last two days wasn’t feigned. One might think Elise was a relative, not some crazy person who’d tried to burn her out of house and home.

None of that mattered. What really mattered? This burning in his gut—a desire to have Claire enmeshed in his life. She already owned his heart.

As much as he longed for her, Jason had no idea how to go about getting her.

Chapter 54

Later that afternoon, Jimbo strode into Checkers Bar and Grille.

Once inside, he removed his sunglasses and grabbed one of the last empty bar stools in the crowded room.

A bartender was busy washing glasses. He set the last one down and wiped his hands on a towel at his waist. “What’ll you have?”

“Draft beer.”

When he acknowledged the order and reached for a glass, Jimbo added, “I’m also here for information.” He watched the bartender pull the lever and pour. “Are you Doug Richards?”

When he nodded, Jimbo took the pictures out of his pocket and slid them toward Doug.

“This guy says he was in here with this woman three weeks ago. You remember them?”

Doug placed a beer in front of him and picked up the pictures. “I know him. Name’s Myers. He usually comes in alone. Never leaves alone.”

“What about her? He’d have been with her.” Jimbo pointed to Gwen in the picture.

“Let me think. There was one night he was with someone, but she looked different.” Richards studied the picture again. “The lady I saw had longer, darker hair?”

“You’re sure?”

“I usually remember the ladies, and she looks familiar, but I can’t be certain.” When Jimbo’s eyebrows quirked, Doug grinned and nonchalantly lifted a shoulder. “It’s one of the perks of my job.” He indicated the picture. “Was she drugged?”

“Why do you ask?”

“We watch this guy closely.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Had a couple of complaints. When a woman comes in the next day asking if you remember her because she thinks she might’ve been drugged, you take notice. When it happens more than once, you start watching for guys slipping things into drinks. Bad for business.”

“You think Myers drugs women?”

He shrugged. “Can’t prove it.”

Jimbo asked a few more questions and wrote down the bartender’s replies. When done, he pocketed the pictures and placed a twenty on the bar, murmuring his thanks.

He walked out and headed to his next stop.

“I’m here to see John Myers.” Jimbo flashed his warmest smile at the receptionist. “We were meeting later for drinks. My plans have changed and I can’t make it, only he’s not answering his cell, so I stopped by to let him know.”

“That’s because he’s been in meetings. He just got out. If you’ll sit down, I’ll let him know you’re here, Mister . . . ?”

“O’Malley. That’s okay, I’ll surprise him.” He started down the hallway. At the door with the right name, he pushed inside.

“What the—?”

“Sit down.”

“You can’t just barge in here.” Myers picked up the phone.

“Answer my questions and I’ll leave.”

“How dare you!”

“You wanna call Broward County Sheriff’s Office and tell ’em how you’re drugging women?” His face distorting in disgust, Jimbo leaned forward. “I’m not afraid of a scumball like you. But you’d better fear me because you don’t want me investigating your past.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Then tell me about the night you spent with Gwen Anderson.”

“What about that night? I went out with her.”

“Bartender says you left the bar around eight. What did you do between eight and ten?”

“What do you think?” Myers asked, sporting a satisfied smirk. A knock sounded at the door, and his grin widened. “I’m done answering questions.”

“No problem.” Jimbo presented an unconcerned smile and shrugged before heading for the door.

Just as it opened, he glanced back. “I think I’ll dig a little deeper into your bar activity, though.”

Chapter 55

“I’ll help with those.” Claire rose. Dishes in hand, she followed Amelia into the kitchen, using the diversion to escape Jason’s sizzling gaze. All during dinner, she’d felt it.

“Thanks, Auntie Claire.”

While Amelia stood at the sink readying the water, Claire cleared the table, thankful that Jason and Chloe had headed upstairs.

In companionable silence, she dried, letting her mind wander as the child chattered and washed.

Work on the kitchen had progressed. This was Wednesday, which meant appliances would be delivered tomorrow. Jason planned to work on the countertops over the weekend. He’d spent the last two evenings working well into the night, finishing the floor while she kept the girls company.

Claire could tell he used the work as a means not to think about the situation, clearly not knowing how to deal with his daughters’ questions concerning Elise.

She had easily stepped into the role of confidante, assuaging their trauma, using memories of how she’d felt after her own accident in an effort to add to their normality.

Though she’d fought attachment, she’d failed. Miserably.

How could she remain detached when they needed her so desperately, and she needed to be needed just as much?

“Are you gonna play cards with us tonight?” Amelia asked while Claire folded the towel and placed it on the bar.

On the brink of begging off, of going to her room to disconnect, she stopped when the child grabbed her arm.

“Please? Daddy said he’d play if you did.”

“I guess I could be persuaded.” She ruffled Amelia’s dark hair and smiled into blue eyes too much like her father’s.

Being under Jason’s roof, so close, fighting to keep her distance from him was like resisting chocolate brownies. Adding Amelia and Chloe into the mix created double-chocolate fudge brownies. She could only look at a plate of her favorite dessert for so long without craving a taste.

Often over the past five days, Claire would look up and catch Jason’s contemplative stare, a look so full of stark yearning it sent goose bumps along her extremities before he shuttered it. At those times, she ached to give in to her craving for a hug—just one hug.

But she refrained. No way she’d ever be satisfied with just one taste. Tonight Jason hadn’t bothered concealing his potent thoughts, and her craving had increased a thousand times.

“Now that the dishes are done, let’s go find them.” She shoved her disturbing feelings away and grasped Amelia’s hand.

Later as they were playing cards, Claire sat across the table from Jason. With Chloe on her right and Amelia on her left, Claire ignored the signals his body kept sending. Relief swept through her when the clock chimed nine.

Chloe clutched her hand. “Will you tuck me in, Auntie Claire?”

Her stomach tightened. “Sure,” she said, giving in to Chloe’s shy smile and pleading look, and allowing the child to lead her toward the bedrooms with Jason and Amelia following on their heels.

Together, as if they’d been doing it every night since they were born, Claire and Jason tucked the two girls into bed.

On the way out of Chloe’s room, Jason clasped her arm, halting her progression. “Don’t run off just yet.”

“Why?” She turned around to face him and sucked in air. Holding her breath, she steeled herself against his intense blue gaze.

“You know why.”

She did. Her tummy did somersaults as she closed her eyes and nodded. It took several deep breaths for her to finally compose herself. At the same time, she prayed he wouldn’t be able to hear the rapid thumping of her heart.

How she wished those eyes of his didn’t affect her so. If only they didn’t convey so eloquently everything she wanted, she could resist them.

Jason led her to the family room sofa and sat, pulling her next to him. “Claire—” He broke off, cleared his throat, and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

The uncertainty and nervousness she noted startled her. She was nervous and uncertain too, but she didn’t expect it of him.

“I promised you time. Hell, I’d give you all the time in the world, if—” He broke off again, gazing into her eyes. “Damn,” he muttered. “I know I promised, but I can’t. Please?” he begged, right before his lips found hers.

His kiss was soft, warm, and loving. All resistance fled while those lips swept her off to someplace where she didn’t have to think about her house blowing up, or Carl being killed, or the girls’ mother lying in a coma, or the fact that the same woman was responsible. All Claire wanted was to sink into Jason’s heat and forget. Everything.

“Say yes,” he said, lifting his head and holding it an inch from hers. “Spend the night with me. Let me love you.”

The desire in his voice matched the yearning in his eyes when she opened hers to find him still staring with fervent intensity. She nodded, staying mute. Words wouldn’t form, the vowels and consonants sticking on the lump in the back of her throat.

Then, as if in slow motion, his lips moved the last inch, vanquishing any remaining thoughts of denying his request.

She moaned. Her mouth melded with his as she let go of her resistance, unable to stop from responding to the demanding thrust of his tongue.

Until reality rushed into Claire’s consciousness.

How had this happened? They hadn’t even had the sanity to go behind closed doors. The girls could walk out and see them lying on the sofa.

She pushed away, trying to break loose, but Jason gripped her hips. “Where are you going?”

“To my room.”

“Huh-uh.” He shook his head. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

Annoyance ran up her spine as it stiffened. “You forget.” She met his heated gaze with defiance in hers. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

While one hand held her in place, his other moved up and down her body, soothing her. Feeling those fingers gentling her, she couldn’t hold on to her anger.

When he pulled her closer and his lips grazed hers, all anger dissipated, especially when he whispered, “I’m not telling. I’m asking.” He kissed his way along her neck to her ears. “Please stay. I need you tonight.”

She closed her eyes.

“Can’t you feel how much?”

She opened her eyes and nodded. God help her, she needed him too. She craved human contact and would give herself this. But she couldn’t think beyond.

Jason stood and held out his hand.

Like quicksilver, memories of him doing the same thing so many times in their brief association flooded her brain. Doubts fled as they linked fingers.

That night, their lovemaking was slow and languid. When the high of her orgasm abated and her heartbeat and breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, tears threatened. She hadn’t stayed detached. Worse, she wasn’t certain she could undo the damage.

“Shush,” Jason whispered. He pressed his lips to her brow and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “Why are you crying?”

His soft question only made her feel worse. She shook her head, unable to speak. How could she tell him about her misgivings? That while she understood Jason and his girls needed her, she wasn’t certain if a relationship with him was what she needed?

“You can’t tell me?”

There was so much love spilling from his steady blue gaze. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“I don’t know if this is what I want.”

She felt him stiffen as he slowly sucked in air. Then his expression went blank, right before her eyes.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking her with him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

The emotion in his voice brought on fresh tears, and again he soothed her. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”

“What if I can’t give you what you want?”

“That’s not your problem. Now go to sleep.”

“I shouldn’t stay here.” The last thing she wanted to do was sleep in his arms. Like that would help her detach?

“You’re not leaving.”

“What about your kids?” she asked, hoping he’d see reason. She tried to pull away to no avail.

“There’s a lock on the door. I’ll set the alarm and get you back to your room before they wake.”

“Jason—”

“Go to sleep.” He kissed her cheek when she bristled. “I’m not letting you leave tonight.”

• • •

The next morning, Claire woke up alone in the guest room with vague memories of Jason carrying her there. Smiling, she stretched, remembering the way he’d kissed her before he left. Why did she feel so great when she still hadn’t figured out her course?

After showering and dressing for work, she strolled into the kitchen to see him busy cooking, laughing and joking with his girls.

“What’ll you have?” He handed her a cup of coffee.

“Whatever you’re cooking. Smells good.”

Claire leaned against the counter and observed him. Even with an apron tied around his dress slacks, he looked like a walking sexual fantasy. Every girl’s dream man. At least hers. He definitely gave her good dreams.

She shouldn’t be this happy. Nothing was settled between them. In fact, now she was more confused.

Still, she couldn’t deny the sense of belonging when Jason handed her a plate of food and Chloe patted the seat next to her, saying, “I saved your spot.”

Chapter 56

Later that morning, Claire passed her assistant’s desk on her way back from a sales department staff meeting.

“Morning.” She glanced at Amy. “Anything going on I should be aware of?”

“Good morning.” Amy jumped up and followed her into her office. “Gwen wants to see you when you come in.”

“Thanks,” Claire murmured, taking the cup of coffee she offered.

Amy left as Gwen sauntered in.

“Good, you’re in. How’re things?” She sat on the edge of the desk as usual.

“Work’s fine. Sales are strong.” Claire sat, placed her elbows in front of her with her chin on laced fingers, and grinned. “Twenty percent ahead of last year. New catalog’s effective. Give yourself a pat on the back. We did it again.”

“That’s great.”

“I’m happy. Last year’s sales were high, so I wasn’t expecting such increases. We should celebrate. Wanna do lunch?”

“Sure. I’m always up for lunch if the boss is springing.”

“Okay. I’ve got a few things to get done, and then we can go.”

Once Gwen left, Claire picked up the phone.

“Hey, CG. It’s me.”

“Claire?” Crystal asked with laughter in her voice. “What’s going on?”

“I need to get away for a couple of days. Wanna join me on my boat for a weekend in paradise?”

Snyder had released the sailboat at the beginning of the week, and she hadn’t wanted to think about what needed to be done after the investigators got through with it.

Crystal sighed. “You know I hate sailing.”

“Please. I’m sure the boat’s a mess, but I can’t face it alone, and I’d rather not include Jason. He’s got enough with his girls and his kitchen.” She stopped short of telling her sister the real reason. She needed distance.

“Besides,” she said, “there’s not much wind this time of year. Seas will be flat, and you can work on your tan.” July always brought the dreaded doldrums—an invisible meringue of hot, still, moisture-laden air that even a knife would have trouble cutting through. “I have a compressor and air-conditioning below. Evenings should be nice. We can anchor in my favorite spot.”

Claire held her breath. Sensing Crystal’s wavering, she added, “It’s an opportunity to be together. Say yes.”

“Okay. I suppose so. But can we talk about it tonight? I’m due in court in twenty minutes.”

“Sure. Call me when you get a chance.” Claire hung up, grinning. She could count on Crystal.

Two hours later, a waiter led Claire and Gwen through a maze of tables.

“Is this okay?” He set the menus down when she nodded and sat in the chair he’d pulled out.

“Bring me up-to-date,” Gwen said as she sat down across from her.

Claire took a few minutes perusing the menu, decided quickly on the shrimp pasta, and placed the plastic folder on the table before sighing.

“So much has happened. Where do you want me to start?” She met Gwen’s earnest gaze.

“You said they think Mr. Roberts’s ex-wife did it?”

“Everything points that way.” Claire spent a moment detailing the events of the past week, and ended with, “She’s still in a coma. The doctors aren’t sure she’ll wake up.”

“It’s so unbelievable.”

Gwen looked up expectantly when the waiter strode up to the table with his pad and pen ready. She waited until he’d taken their orders and was out of earshot before leaning closer.

“So, Carl was having an affair with her?”

Claire nodded. “According to Jason, Elise told him he’d asked her to marry him. He and Snyder think they were in on the scheme to disappear and something went wrong, which is why she killed him. God only knows why she burned my house. If she doesn’t wake up, we’ll never know.”

“What about Crystal?”

“What about her?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange now that you two are best buddies, that she says she and Carl never had an affair, when she offered evidence? Too coincidental.”

“Oh? How so?”

“You only have her word that the affair with Carl never took place.”

“You worry too much.” Claire picked up her linen napkin and spread it across her lap. “Crystal and I are as close as ever, and I trust her. In fact, she’s spending the weekend helping me with the boat.”

“I only hope you know what you’re doing. Just be careful.”

Gwen’s voice held warning, yet she simply didn’t understand Claire’s relationship with Crystal.

Chapter 56

Claire walked into the kitchen that evening to inform Jason about her plans for the weekend just as Jason hung up the phone. Dinner was long over, prepared using the new appliances that had been installed earlier in the day, and the girls were upstairs watching a movie.

“Was that the hospital?”

He nodded. The thin curve of his smile was a dim prototype. “She’s out of the coma.”

“That’s great.” Claire’s quick smile replaced concern. Then she sobered, remembering the woman was responsible for such horrible deeds. “Has she said anything about why?”

“No. She’s disoriented, still under sedation. She’s not making sense, and has no memory of what happened. Her doctor says he can’t predict the outcome. It could be permanent damage or something brought on by stress.”

Nodding distractedly, Claire started pacing, not sure how to approach the subject.

“What’s up?” Jason’s gaze narrowed. “You seem jumpy.”

Pursing her lips, she turned to face him and cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

He stiffened slightly. “About?” he asked cautiously.

“Snyder’s released my boat and I want to check on it.”

“Okay. Let’s make a day of it on Saturday. Include the girls.”

“No. That won’t work.”

“Why not?” His potent blue eyes held her captive. “They love sailing, and I can use a break from working on the house.”

“Because I’m going alone.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose.

“Well, not totally alone. Crystal’s going too. We’re spending the weekend sailing.”

“I see.”

Her gaze strayed to the floor, unable to keep meeting that expressive stare belying his words. He clearly didn’t see.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, averting her gaze. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need to get away. To think. To decide what I want and where I’m going.”

She broke off and started pacing. “It’s time I left. I appreciate all you’ve done. Really, I do. And now that we know about Elise and she’s on the mend, I’m not in any more danger, so I don’t need to be here. Please try to understand.”

He stood stock-still for a drawn-out moment.

Finally, she risked a glance. Big mistake. He’d cranked the volume. Despite the heat searing from his intense expression, a small chill trickled down her spine. The man always could see right through her, see deep enough to reach her . . . her what? Her soul. She always felt Jason Roberts could see her soul, and right now she could see his.

She swallowed hard. Tried to breathe, but her lungs seemed paralyzed.

“I will on one condition.” The grin he gave her only added to her unease.

“What condition?”

Her spine straightened. She wasn’t afraid of Jason. But when he started moving toward her, causing her to back up slowly until the small of her back hit the counter, she had to rethink that. She was afraid of what he made her feel.

“Give me tonight.”

“Tonight?”

Oh God! Not afraid. Petrified. Like right now when her heartbeat pounded out of control, and the blood rushed through her arteries, leaving behind a light-headed sensation.

She licked her lips, stilling her body’s reaction as his mouth halted an inch from hers.

“I want you to think about this,” he murmured, and then his lips lowered for the barest kiss.

His soft mouth nipped and sucked. When she felt herself melting, her legs liquefying, she grabbed a steadying hold of his arms. His muscles bunched under her touch.

“Give me tonight to reinforce the memory, and you can have all the time you need.”

“Unfair tactics,” she was barely able to get out.

“I told you I use what works. And right now I’m fighting for my life.”

Jason’s whisper sent more chills up Claire’s spine. When he swooped in for another earth-shattering kiss, all thought emptied as other sensations charged through her system.

Chapter 57

Claire strode briskly out of her office on Friday afternoon, unable to wipe the satisfied grin off her face. Leave it to Jason to make sure he was a big part of why. His efforts last night had improved her mood considerably.

With a small cooler in her hand, she walked past Amy’s desk, nodded her usual greeting, and headed for the refrigerator in the lunchroom. While packing, she looked up to find Amy standing at the door.

“Need any help?”

“No. Just loading some takeout from the deli on Fourth. This way, Crystal and I don’t need to worry about dinner tonight.” Turning, she held up a bottle of red wine, along with a pint of bourbon. “And we’re set for happy hour.”

“Are you going to your spot?”

Claire nodded, snapped on the lid, and lifted the cooler. “You sure you don’t mind staying late? I could call and have the delivery held until Monday.”

“I’ll be fine,” Amy said with a smile. “No plans until later, I promise. Go, have a good weekend. You deserve to take it easy. You’ve had a rough week.”

“I have.” Claire laughed. “I’m just so happy. Never thought I’d feel this good after all that’s happened.”

“It’s the bright side.”

“Oh?”

“You’re changing your image, right?” When she nodded, Amy added, “Now it’ll be easier to work on the new Claire because the old Claire’s gone, including physical reminders.”

“How true. It’s all a matter of perception.” She inhaled deeply, her smile seemingly stuck in place.

Yep! Jason definitely knew what he was doing last night.

Claire set the cooler down and moved to hug her assistant. Keep things in perspective. If she could do that, she might just figure out what she needed.

• • •

“This is perfect.” The sun’s hot rays drenched Claire’s skin. She ignored the beads of sweat, the result of cloying humidity that also made breathing difficult, refusing to let simple discomfort ruin her mood. “A perfect time to be out.”

She started the engine, thankful that the effects of Snyder’s investigation weren’t as drastic or as hard to repair as she’d first thought. With Crystal’s help, they pulled away from the dock after only an hour of work.

“It’s not so bad.” Crystal jumped back on board after untying the lines, and then poured a drink. “Why am I here and not Jason?”

Grinning, she plopped next to Claire. She took a sip, brought both bare feet onto the bench, and wrapped an arm around her bent legs, keeping a curious, amused expression focused on Claire. “I could’ve stayed with the girls.”

Claire smiled and didn’t reply, moving her attention to guiding the boat through the harbor and into deeper water, using the markers.

“He’s into sailing. And he’s into you,” Crystal said a moment later, clearly not backing away from the subject.

“I told you why.” Claire nodded toward the bow, hoping to use the chore as a distraction. “Can you work the jib? Or do you want to keep the boat on track while I do it?”

“I’ll take the jib.” Crystal grabbed the sheets and headed for the bow. “But it won’t work.”

Once the sails were trimmed, Claire shut down the engine.

“Come on CG, fess up. This is CG you’re talking to. Why’re you here with me instead of Jason?”

“Probably the same reason you’re not with Jimbo.”

“Huh-uh!” Crystal shook her head and waved a hand vigorously in front of her. “We were talking about you, not me.”

Claire grunted. “Strike a chord, did I?”

“The jury’s still out on him . . . still deliberating.”

“Don’t give me that. You’re in as deep as I am.”

“Maybe.” Crystal’s gaze never wavered. “And you’re evading. Where’s Jason?”

Shading her eyes, Claire shrugged. “I don’t want to make another mistake. I let hormones guide me with Carl. It wasn’t real.”

“I know the feeling,” Crystal agreed as her contemplative gaze moved to the water. Finally, she sighed. “Who am I kidding? The subterranean pit named Jim O’Malley is bottomless, and I’m sinking fast.” She snorted and took a lingering drink. “I can’t catch my breath when I’m with him. God knows what he’ll do once he realizes it.”

“What if he feels the same way?”

“I hope so. But what if he doesn’t? Or what if the feeling burns out?”

“I never felt this strongly about Carl. Even before that day . . . you know.”

“Yes, I know. Scares the hell outta me.”

“Now that’s something I never thought to see.” Claire’s quick grin spread. “You afraid of a man.”

Crystal chuckled. “Jimbo’s not just a man.”

“Looks like one from my vantage point.”

“Humph! Still makes me want to run.”

“Guess I’m running scared too. Must be genetic. I have my share of what-ifs. What if this is the same? What if what I feel for Jason is only lust?”

“I’m trying not to dwell on what-ifs. And I’ve decided I like lust.”

Claire’s laughter burst into the air, mixing with the sounds of birds squawking and water lapping. “Lust is good,” she said as her laugh receded into a residual smile.

“The best relationships start with a lustful spark.” Crystal’s eyes were full of merriment. Some of her amusement fled as she added, “But if the flame’s too hot and a firestorm ensues, everything becomes ashes, leaving little to build a relationship on.”

“So that’s your biggest fear with Jimbo?”

“That it’ll burn out before we can set the foundation in place?” Crystal nodded and examined her drink, wiping off the condensation. “Our track record isn’t impressive. I’ve tried to slow things but he’s like a tornado, sweeping away all resistance. That’s part of the reason I agreed to this.” She motioned toward the water with her glass. “I love spending time with you, but you know I hate sailing. At least I have a chance to catch my breath. And distance is a pretty good brake.”

“We’re pathetic.” Claire groaned. “We should be taking them by storm, not the other way around.”

“You’re right. We’re the Grayson twins, for Christ’s sake. I say it’s time we started acting that way.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Claire smiled. “Definitely worth implementing.”

She eventually guided the boat to her favorite cove, pushing away thoughts that the last time she spent the night in this spot her nightmare with Carl began. What she remembered instead was this was where she and Jason had first connected.

Once anchored, she pulled out the cooler and began fixing dinner. “It’s deli. I didn’t have time to make brownies.”

“This is great.” Crystal took a food-filled plate.

The two sisters ate in companionable silence while the sun, still high, started its descent in the late-afternoon sky.

Feeling funny, Claire set her wineglass down as she tried to shake off a wave of dizziness. Peering over at Crystal, her vision clouded.

“What’s wrong?”

A sense of foreboding exploded inside her as a feeling of déjà vu gave her chills. Gwen’s warning rushed back, and all-out panic struck. Had it been Crystal all along?

“Claire?”

More memories flashed, recalling details of the past few weeks, as well as the recollection of her twin swearing she’d get even three years earlier.

Claire didn’t want to believe it. Please, Lord, don’t let it be Crystal. That was her last thought before she passed out.

Chapter 58

At his desk, Jimbo typed on the computer, bringing up several pictures he’d scanned, including all the women he suspected. Playing with a photo editing program, he tried to make Elise and the others look like Claire and Crystal. He also checked a printout of numbers Elise’s cell phone had generated, as well as a few other numbers, and cross-referenced them.

He played around some more, adding the right hair color and a few more details, and printed out several pictures he’d created, along with a list of phone numbers.

“Shit,” he muttered when something popped out at him.

Unbelievable, yet there it was in full color. Facts were facts. The hard part was figuring out which facts were relevant.

He stuffed the information into his pocket, grabbed his cell phone, and headed for the parking lot.

“Great.” He’d used his phone for some of his online searches, and now the battery was getting low. He’d charge it in the car.

Twenty minutes later, he stepped into the cool lobby of the Ocean View Resort.

“You ever see this woman before?” Jimbo asked the reservation clerk at the front desk.

“Yeah. She was here with the dead guy.”

“Really? You sure it’s her?”

The man nodded. “Looks like her.”

“Well, George,” he said, spying the nametag. “What about this one?” He placed another picture beside the first.

“I’m confused. Didn’t you already ask me about these pictures?”

“I’m asking again.” He looked closely at the clerk’s face. “Did you ever see her with the dead guy?”

“Yeah. What are they? Twins?”

“Close,” Jimbo said with a grim smile, and pocketed the pictures. He started for the automatic doors, calling his thanks over his shoulder.

Chapter 59

“All tests look positive. Brain waves are normal.” Elise’s neurologist turned off the light showing her latest CAT scan and smiled. “I expect a full recovery.”

“Including her memory?” Jason asked.

“I don’t see any reason other than mental trauma stopping her, so yes, eventually.”

“Can I see her?”

“Sure,” the doctor said. “Once out of the coma, she recuperated rather quickly, and was moved from intensive care this morning. Room 226.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bennett.”

After shaking hands, Jason strode toward the elevator, dreading the visit. What did they have to talk about? What was he going to say to a woman he thought he knew, a woman who almost killed another woman who’d become his life?

Jason pushed the door open with a greeting on the tip of his tongue, but stopped short when he spied an empty bed.

“Elise?” He moved to the bathroom door and knocked. “We need to talk.”

He waited a few moments. Nothing.

“Elise? It’s Jason.”

Still no sound came out of the room. A feeling of foreboding snaked through his bloodstream. He turned the knob and the door opened. Noticing a dark room, he pushed it all the way, revealing a vacant bathroom.

“Have you seen Elise Roberts?” Jason asked the nurse at the desk.

“She’s not in her room?”

“No.”

The nurse gave an unconcerned shrug. “She could be out for tests. Let me look at her chart.”

After a thorough search confirmed Elise’s disappearance, Jason hurried out of the building. While driving south on I-95 toward Crystal’s office, he yanked his cell phone from his pocket.

“Jimbo,” he said to voice mail. “Elise’s gone. Has been the entire afternoon. Sheriff’s deputy says a woman matching her description was seen skulking around Claire’s Collections earlier in the day. I’m on my way. Call me.”

When Jason pulled into the parking lot, he glanced at his watch. Almost six o’clock. He hopped out, praying her office assistant hadn’t left for the day.

He encountered only one person on his way to the assistant’s desk, yet she was nowhere in sight. Things appeared to be closing down for the weekend.

Next he headed for Claire’s office and knocked softly. Knowing it would be empty, he went inside.

“Jason?” The soft voice came from the shadows.

“Elise?”

“Her sister did it,” Elise whispered, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Tears streamed down her face. “I came to confront her, but she’s gone. No one would listen. They thought I was delusional. They thought it was me.”

“Shush. It’s okay.” He sat down and pulled the crying woman into his arms.

“No. She tried to kill me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Crystal Grayson, your lawyer. I saw her before I passed out. If Jimbo hadn’t found me in the pool . . .” She shivered.

Stark terror slammed into Jason. Claire was with Crystal on her boat.

He grabbed his phone and punched in Claire’s cell number. Please answer.

Chapter 60

“I had to do it. She’s blackmailing me, okay?”

“And?” Jimbo prodded, narrowing his eyes to slits to urge Myers to continue.

“About six months ago, she caught me slipping something into someone’s drink. Asked me to supply her with a few pills. But I didn’t kill anyone.”

“You were her alibi, right? She wasn’t with you the entire night, was she?”

“No. We split up when she left the bar.”

Jimbo closed the door to Myers’s office, rubbing his hand and wishing it didn’t hurt so much from pounding his fist into the side of the jerk’s head. But maybe the bastard will think twice before he drugs another woman. He definitely planned to inform the authorities about Myers’s extracurricular activities.

When he got to his car, he turned on his cell and noticed the message indicator. After listening to Jason’s message, he punched in the return number while backing out.

“Jason? It’s Jimbo,” he said as he pulled onto the highway. “I’m on my way to Claire’s Collections, but it’s not Elise. In fact, she may be in danger. I found some holes in Gwen Anderson’s alibi. If you see her, stop her.”

Chapter 61

“Claire? Come on.” The person speaking patted her cheek. “Wake up.”

“Gwen?” Claire sat up, feeling groggy and slightly nauseated.

“It’s okay. You’ve been out for several hours.” She handed her a bottle of water. “You should drink something. You’ll feel better.”

“Why’re you here?” The wave of nausea passed and Claire inhaled deeply several times, trying to think. The sun had dipped in the western sky and was only minutes from setting for the night.

“Intuition? I got worried, so I drove down to make sure you’re okay.”

“Where’s Crystal?” She brought the bottle up to her lips.

“I don’t know,” Gwen said as she headed below. “She wasn’t on board when I arrived.”

The thought of water turned Claire’s stomach. Instead of drinking, she lowered the bottle and set it on the ledge. The bottle tipped over, emptying before her shaky hands caught it.

Glancing around, she noticed the dinghy bobbing behind the stern. The fine hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Another sense of familiarity swept over her, making her shiver with dread.

“What’s going on?” Still holding the bottle, she stood on wobbly legs and followed Gwen below. Once in the salon, she quickly sat to avoid losing her balance.

Gwen didn’t answer, just gave her a piercing look.

Now that her eyes had accustomed to dusk, Claire took a cautious look around and spied what could only be Crystal’s form lying in the V-berth.

Gwen’s eyes narrowed and she smiled. “We’re waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“Should take effect in minutes.”

Claire shook her head. “What should take effect? You’ve lost me.” She nodded at the V-berth. “I thought you said Crystal wasn’t on board.”

“I lied.” Gwen leaned back against a hatch, crossed her arms, and indicated the bottle in Claire’s hand. “The water’s drugged. In moments, you’ll be out cold.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Then I dump your stabbed body overboard, just like I did Carl’s. It is rather messy. But I promise to wait until you’re out before I slice, so you won’t feel anything.”

“You killed Carl?”

Gwen ignored the question. “We should’ve killed you in the very beginning and framed your bitch of a sister. But Carl couldn’t stomach murder. What a laugh!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. Everything’s always come easy to people like you. I’ve worked like a slave, giving my best for a mere salary while the company’s sales kept doubling.”

“You make a good salary.”

“It should’ve been mine. Carl promised.” In an angry burst, Gwen spat out, “That inept, double-crossing bastard couldn’t do anything right. Not only couldn’t he follow plans without screwing up, he cheated on me.”

Claire gaped. Gwen couldn’t be serious. Didn’t she realize cheating was the only thing Carl had ever been good at?

“Why did you torch my house? That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. You were getting too chummy with Crystal. I wanted you dead before you changed your will and left her everything.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“That just means I’ll get even more revenge.” Gwen’s smile hardened and a distant look came into her eyes. “On all of you. Crystal will wake up with no memory and a bloody knife in her hand. And the company will be in my hands. This plan actually works better than my original.”

“Original?”

“To drain your company of assets while you were distracted with Carl’s disappearance. But Carl was too impatient and short-sighted to use restraint.”

“Why Crystal?”

“For that clause. He would’ve been all mine if not for that.”

A perfect match. Too bad Carl died. The two deserved each other, she thought as Gwen paced.

“Her little add-on to the contract caused me grief.”

Think! I have to get out of here. Claire let her mind spin as she watched Gwen’s agitation increase. Thank God she hadn’t drunk the water.

She furtively scanned the small room and glimpsed the paperweight used to hold charts. She stretched, reached farther, and grasped it.

“I’m starting to feel drowsy,” she lied. “What was in that water?”

Gwen spun around and eyed her cautiously.

Claire moaned and bent over, pretending to collapse. She prayed the woman couldn’t hear the thumping of her heart. Prayed harder that her plan would work.

Remaining motionless, Claire sensed Gwen moving her way. Still, she held her breath, not daring to let it out.

When Gwen poked at her, Claire didn’t respond. She waited instead for that perfect instant to strike. When that moment came, she fisted the weight and slugged with all her might, utilizing her body’s force as momentum.

Once in action, Claire didn’t stop, drawing fuel from adrenaline. She jumped, running as fast as her rubbery legs would carry her. Up the stairs she ran, and grabbed her handbag on the way. She pulled the dinghy close and stepped in, untied the line, and pushed away from the stern. Then she rummaged through her bag, staying hidden in the inflatable, and pulled out her cell.

Her fingers trembling, she hastily punched in Jason’s number

“Jason? I need you,” she said softly once he answered, realizing she needed him with all her heart. Her only thoughts while facing death had been about him. If she died, she’d never see him again. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Claire?”

The love and tenderness in the one word touched her deeply. Why had she been so stupid? Jason was real. What she had with him was real—as real as what she’d had with Carl had been false.

“Gwen’s going to kill us,” she whispered. “I can’t die. I have to see you again.”

“Where are you?”

“My cove. Same place I was that day we met. Please hurry. She’s crazy.”

“I’m close to the marina now. Stay safe. I’ll alert Snyder and call you right back.”

The line went dead. She dropped the phone, praying softly while focusing on the motor. “I need you. Please, Lord. Don’t let me die. He needs me. His girls need me.”

When she reached for the cord, she realized the pulley to start the outboard was cut.

“Looking for this?” Gwen stood at the stern. She was holding the vital piece from the motor, along with a knife.

Chapter 62

“Gwen’s got them on the boat.” Jason threw his cell phone to Jimbo and pressed the accelerator to the floor. “Make yourself useful. Call Snyder again. Tell him they’re in danger.” The investigator had already informed Snyder of his earlier findings.

Thankfully, Miami’s rush hour was over and no cops stopped them as they neared the turnoff for the marina in Key Largo. He’d caught up with Jimbo outside Claire’s Collections. At that point, they’d both come to the same horrifying conclusion that Gwen Anderson was responsible for everything.

They’d all been so wrong.

Thank God for Jimbo’s digging. When he realized Gwen had used Myers for a false alibi, he zeroed in on her as a suspect. Jimbo also uncovered the fact that Gwen could dress to look just like the Grayson twins. Given the right props, his program created a picture from Gwen’s that strikingly resembled Claire. The clever—certifiable was a better description—woman had been busy. Her one mistake was calling Claire from a cell phone the night Carl died. That one-minute call tied her to Carl through the cell phone Carl had given Elise.

Maybe the bastard suspected something, but they’d never know. What they did know was that Claire had called Gwen back, but Gwen’s home line had been forwarded to the cell. Hell, she’d probably killed Carl while talking, and Claire hadn’t even known it. Because of her airtight alibi, no one had looked deeper.

Time was of the essence.

“Can’t you make this thing go faster?” Jimbo asked after finishing his call to the sheriff’s office.

“I got it to the floor. The marina’s just up ahead, about a mile.”

“Snyder’s on his way. Said he’d meet us at the marina.”

Jason grunted and slowed the car enough to make a turn into the parking lot. The moment they stopped, both men hopped out and ran.

A sheriff’s car pulled in behind them.

“We got it from here,” Snyder yelled as he stepped out of his vehicle. He headed for the docks.

“We’re going with you,” Jason called out as he and Jimbo made a beeline for the sheriff’s boat bobbing in the water.

Snyder didn’t say anything as they jumped into the boat. Two other deputies stood ready to leave, one at the helm.

“It’s against regulations,” Snyder said as he untied the lines and stepped onboard.

“You think I give a shit about regulations?” Jimbo asked. “I’m riding with you, or you can arrest me for stealing a boat.”

“Maybe you can bend the rules a bit,” Jason said desperately, going for diplomacy. “I know where the sailboat’s anchored. Do you?”

“No.”

“Claire’s not answering her cell. I don’t think you have the time to look. I can guide you there.” Jason didn’t add the fact that it was in the same spot Claire had been anchored when the deputy first investigated Carl’s disappearance.

“I could lose my badge,” Snyder said a little louder.

“And I could lose my life. She’s out there, and I’m going with you,” Jimbo yelled, getting into the deputy’s face. “Is a life worth more than a freakin’ badge?”

“He’s got a point.” Jason prayed they wouldn’t have to commandeer the deputy’s boat. Lawyers with felonies on their records couldn’t practice law. But Jimbo’s declaration spoke volumes. The woman who was his whole life was out on the water with a crazy person, and nothing was going to keep him on this dock.

Snyder swore under his breath. “Come on. You’d better behave yourselves.” He pointed to the gun Jimbo wore in a shoulder harness. “You know how to use that?”

“Yeah, or I wouldn’t be wearing it.”

“Keep it holstered,” Snyder said with a glower. “I mean it. You’d better not give me any shit, or I’ll have your asses in jail so fast you won’t know what hit you.” He turned to the deputy at the helm. “Let’s go.”

Seconds later, they headed out to deeper water at a fast clip.

Chapter 63

Gwen stood on the stern, holding the cord high. With her quarter-sized eyes glazed over, she appeared absolutely stark-raving mad.

Claire swallowed her fear and reached over the boat’s side to paddle with her hands, desperate to get away from the sailboat.

When Gwen disappeared from sight, Claire breathed a sigh of relief and kept paddling.

Get help. Crystal needs help.

Terror broadsided her the moment she saw Gwen drag Crystal’s lifeless body to the sloop’s edge.

“I’ll just push her over, then come after you. Makes no difference how this goes down. You’ll both die now.”

“Jason knows it’s you,” Claire called out.

“He won’t have proof, and I’ll be gone.”

“You still won’t get away with it.”

“Then I need to make sure I get my revenge, don’t I?”

Horrified, Claire watched as Gwen pushed Crystal over the edge. Her lifeless body sank beneath the water’s dark surface.

Without thinking, Claire dove in and grasped a handful of Crystal’s shirt, using it to haul her to the inflatable. With great effort, Claire tried to shove her unconscious sister onboard, only managing to get her halfway.

All of a sudden, her hair was yanked from behind. Gwen had obviously jumped in right after she dumped Crystal overboard. Thrashing about, Claire tried to break free.

She felt a sting on her arm and looked to see crimson pouring from a long slice on her arm. Gwen had stabbed her and was drawing the knife back to plunge it again. Claire grabbed Gwen’s wrist to keep her from doing more damage, but the effort took enormous energy.

Claire fought with all her might, working to keep her head above water, yet Gwen seemed to have the force of ten men. Her former best friend shoved her under, zapping even more strength.

After one long submersion, Claire came up gasping for air before Gwen had her back underwater. Her lungs felt like they were bursting. Gwen’s hold was too strong.

Oh God! I’m going to die.

Claire’s last memory of Jason that morning flashed through her mind, filling her with bittersweet regret. She’d never see him again, or get the chance to tell him how much she loved him.

Chapter 64

Frustrated, Deputy Snyder could do nothing more than watch as Jason and Jimbo dove into the water just as the sheriff’s runabout pulled alongside Claire’s sailboat.

Jimbo reached Gwen Anderson first and yanked her off Claire by the hair. The woman jabbed the knife at him like a crazed druggie.

As Jimbo tried to subdue Gwen while avoiding her blade, Jason grabbed Claire’s lifeless body and swam with her to the dinghy, where another body was slumped over the side, its head facedown in the boat. He managed to climb onboard and pulled Claire with him before working on getting Crystal fully into the boat.

One of the deputies dove into the water to help Jimbo with Gwen Anderson, but both struggled in their efforts to disarm her and get her under control.

“Damn,” Snyder ground out. “Go help him,” he said to the third deputy.

Snyder then turned to assist Jason, who was hefting Claire from the dinghy onto the sheriff’s boat. Next, Snyder jumped onto the dinghy to lift Crystal’s inert form with Jason’s help.

With Crystal safe, Snyder’s attention went to his deputies, who had finally subdued the assailant. He helped pull Anderson’s limp, bleeding body onto the boat while Jimbo and the two deputies climbed aboard.

The driver revved the motor and steered in the direction of Key Largo, going as fast as possible while three men practiced CPR on three unresponsive bodies.

Chapter 65

“What’s taking so long?”

Jason stopped his worried pacing and glanced at the closed door. “I don’t know.”

Jimbo shoved a hand through his hair. “This sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Though it had only been minutes since a trauma team hauled both Claire and Crystal behind that door, shutting them out, it felt like hours. During that time, he’d kept his mental dialogue with God going. Claire had to survive.

Gwen Anderson hadn’t. The crazed woman had fought Jimbo to the death, trying the entire time to inflict damage with the knife. Jimbo had no choice but to use an evasive move to keep the blade from piercing his heart. With Jimbo suddenly out of the way, Gwen had accidentally stabbed herself, hitting a major artery, and bled out in minutes while heroic efforts to stop the blood loss did no good.

The door finally opened and a doctor walked out, pulling off latex gloves. After he disposed of them, he untied his mask, uncovering a warm smile.

Jason’s breath expelled in one long sigh, and he and Jimbo rushed toward the man.

“Well?”

“They’re both fine. Both awake and asking for you two, if your names happen to be Jason and Jimbo.”

“Thank God,” Jason said as he shook the doctor’s hand.

“Of course, they’ll have to spend the night for observation. Just to make sure. If you’ll check at the desk, the nurse will give you their room numbers.”

When he found her room, Jason hesitated at the door, not sure how Claire would greet him. He silently observed her before wiping worry off his face. The movement drew her attention.

He smiled and pushed into the room. “Are they feeding you properly in this joint?”

“Hi,” she said, nodding in response to his question. He noted tears in her eyes before she brushed them away. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

Jason’s eyes blurred from his own tears. He cleared his throat to ease the baseball-sized lump forming.

“Doctor says they’re just flesh wounds, and I can take you home tomorrow.” He strove for normalcy as he walked toward her and stopped inches from the bed.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. What if she still wanted distance? Still had doubts? He didn’t know if he could handle it if she still wasn’t sure of him when he was so sure of her—and absolutely certain of what she meant to him.

Jason had never prayed so hard as he had in the past hour. It amazed him how quickly his prayers changed from begging for her life to begging for his. Claire was his life, and without her in it, he didn’t know how he’d survive.

“Is Gwen dead?”

“Yes,” he murmured as he met her gaze. “Probably for the better. Saves me the trouble of killing her and spending the rest of my life in prison for murder.”

Claire offered him a woeful smile. Then anguish crossed her features and tears broke free, sliding down her face like rain on glass. “She hated me, all while I thought she was my friend. I loved her. How could this happen?”

Jason’s uncertainty fled. He sat on the bed and pulled Claire into his arms.

“Shush.” He rubbed his hands soothingly over her back and tried to kiss her tears away. “It’s not your fault. Things happen. People don’t live up to your expectations.”

Then because he couldn’t resist, his lips sought hers, and he did his best to ease her pain with soft kisses.

“I love you, Claire. I’m praying you’ll give me another chance to show you how much. I’ll always try to live up to your expectations.”

“You know what my last thoughts were before I blacked out?”

He shook his head.

Tears flowed faster, and she brushed them away. “I realized how much I love you, and how I’d never told you. How I’d die, and you’d never know how much you mean to me.”

Between her wretched sobs, she said, “I love you.”

Chapter 66

The next morning, Crystal stared at the television from her hospital bed, flicking the remote. After trying a plethora of stations, she hit the OFF button and tossed the gadget on the rolling table in front of her. She was bored out of her gourd.

Just then the door opened.

“Hey, Red.” Jimbo stepped into the room carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.

“Hey yourself, cowboy.” Her grin made an appearance for the first time since she’d come to. The man always was a sight for sore eyes, but today she was especially glad to see him.

“Are those for me?”

“They reminded me of you. You add color to my life.” He set them on the rolling table. “Seemed fitting to add a little color to yours.”

“How sweet.” And so unlike Jimbo to do something so romantic.

She imagined there were a lot of things she had to learn about the cowboy besides the fact that he made her insides quiver. Just as she knew there were lots of things about her he had to learn.

“They treating you right?”

“No.” Crystal snorted. “Food sucks, and they have a no-alcohol rule. So bourbon’s out.”

“You’ll survive.” He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “Once I get you home, I’ll feed you, and make sure it includes a glass of bourbon.”

“You’re springing me?”

“Your doctor’s on the way.” He grinned. “Claire’s being released too. I told Jason I’d bring you both home, but he’s not about to let her out of his sight.” His smile died, and his serious gaze roamed over her. “I’m not about to let you out of my sight either.”

Crystal cleared her throat. She glanced down at her hands, a little embarrassed by the warm flush stealing up her face.

“Claire told me if it wasn’t for you, we might be dead,” she said softly, meeting those solemn eyes. “That if you hadn’t kept digging, Gwen Anderson would have gotten away with murder, and I would most likely be blamed.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice as sincere as she’d ever heard it. “I wasn’t about to make a repeat mistake of not looking deeper.”

Tears welled in Crystal’s eyes. “So much pointed directly at me, but you believed in me.”

“You can be a hard-nosed bitch, but you’re no killer. You’re not a cheater either. I should’ve listened to you, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

“You think we have a chance of making something from the ashes?”

“Ashes?”

“We always seem to flash and burn when we connect. I’m worried at some point, all we’ll have left will be ashes.”

“Depends on what’s burning. Fire forges steel, makes it stronger.”

“You think so?” When he nodded slowly, she smiled, letting it reach her eyes. “I like that.”

“So do I,” Jimbo whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers.

• • •

“You ready? The girls are anxious to see you.” Jason pushed the wheelchair toward Claire, who stood staring out the window. “And I’m anxious to make sure you get a decent meal.”

She turned. A question formed in her eyes when she saw the chair.

“Hospital policy. Now, sit.”

Her expression turned mischievous. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“Merely advising, as usual. As your lawyer, it’s my job to advise.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said as she plopped into the chair. “My own personal lawyer.”

“Yep. You’ll never get rid of me now.” He bent over and kissed her. “I’m your lawyer for life. You got that?”

Claire nodded. “I’m ready to go home.”

Pushing the chair, Jason headed for the elevator where they met up with Jimbo and Crystal.

Together the four of them drove north, away from Key Largo and toward the rest of their lives.

The End

Thank you for reading Shattered Dreams. If you enjoyed it, please help others find it by posting a review wherever you bought it. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Share a link, tweet about it, Facebook it . . . everything helps in this interconnected Internet world.

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Follow me on Twitter at @sloydwrites, or like my Facebook page at http://facebook.com/sloydwrites.

If you’d like to read more of my work, turn the page for the first chapter of The Sin Factor, Book 1 of the DC Bad Boys series. It’s an award-winning story that doesn’t skimp on romance, and the hero and heroine fall in love while solving a mystery.

About the Author

Sandy Loyd is an empty nester who now resides in Kentucky and writes full time. She’s published almost two dozen novels in several genres, including contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She strives to come up with fun characters, people you would love to call friends. We all know that friends have their baggage, and when we discover what makes them tick, we come to love them even more.

No matter the genre, she always tries to weave a warm love story into her work, providing enough twists and turns to entertain any reader.

Excerpt from The Sin Factor

Below is an excerpt from Sandy’s first published romantic suspense. Her characters have fun while they’re falling in love and saving the world.

THE SIN FACTOR

In this intriguing mystery, Jeffrey Sinclair has a thief in his midst. One of his highly sensitive prototypes has gone missing, and he’s on a timeline to recover it to avoid bankruptcy. In his search he finds himself in the middle of a deadly game where trust is a luxury he can’t afford. The last person to have the devices has been killed and now his only link to the stolen property is the man’s widow.

Avery Montgomery is a woman heroes marry and protect for life, and Sin’s never been the protecting, hero type—not like her dead husband. When her life is put in danger, Jeffrey strives to keep her safe, while following the twists and turns to uncover the truth before it’s too late. Unfortunately, time spent with Avery makes him yearn for the impossible…to be her hero.

This is a story about perceptions, misconceptions, and what can happen when those who misconceive, abuse their power. In short—a few good men gone wild.

CHAPTER 1

Tree branches swayed, bending to the will of a brisk breeze. Dusk prevailed—that moment in time when it was neither dark nor light.

Avery Montgomery slowly turned to peer at the surrounding landscape, scrutinizing the trees and brush to her left and directly behind her where the gravesites ended. In front of her and still visible in the twilight row after row of pearly headstones fanned out in precise lines.

Shivering, she rubbed her arms.

She waited.

As if her thoughts had ordered the air to still, the leaves stopped their movement. For endless minutes all was calm, until a prickly sensation at the back of her neck indicated his presence, a feeling she’d had before.

Every nerve ending in her body stood at alert. Still waiting. For what, she had no idea.

She closed her eyes and chastised herself. After all, she stood in a cemetery—Arlington, at that. She took a deep breath. The smell of fresh-cut grass eased the eeriness of standing so close to the remains of dead soldiers.

Yet, the feeling of being watched didn’t dissipate. Did he realize she sensed him watching? Why assume it was a he? She pretended not to notice. If she pretended hard enough, then he wasn’t real. Pretending had become a huge part of her life in recent years. She had no reason to doubt her pretense wouldn’t work. It had all those other nights she’d stood staring at the graves of two men who’d died almost two months ago.

Avery’s focus returned to the headstones. She concentrated on the chiseled words.

Major Michael Andrew Montgomery.

Major Marshall Compton Crandall.

One had been her husband for most of her adult life and the other had been his best friend. Both died serving their country, a sacrifice honored with an Arlington burial.

She glanced toward the heavens. If only she could go back in time and undo her past. Unfortunately, it was written, never to be undone, and she would have to live with the consequences.

“You look so sad.”

She pivoted and leaned toward the voice. The soft sound penetrated her ears and reached into her soul, as if directed solely, intimately to her. Squinting, she could only see shadows of trees in the now moonlit darkness.

Ignore it. It isn’t real.

Avery shrugged it off and sighed. She was obviously hallucinating. She stood alone in the middle of a cemetery, and cemeteries were notorious for evoking weird feelings.

“I guess I am sad,” she whispered, going against her mind’s reasoning because she felt compelled to answer. Oh, dear God. She was going crazy. Why did she have this overwhelming need to hear his voice again? Avery’s narrowed gaze searched the darkened brush once more. She spent a moment listening. When no other noise sounded, she turned back to the two graves.

In seconds, tears emerged, and it dawned on her that she was sad . . . grief-stricken . . . for what would never be . . . for what her transgressions had manifested.

“I’m so sorry, Mike. I never meant to make such a mess of things.” More tears trickled. Her husband had gone to his grave with no other word than the confusing letter he’d sent right before he died. She’d never know if he’d forgiven her or not.

Stop it. It’s too late for forgiveness.

She wiped away her tears.

A ping sounded a few feet away. In the next instant, a force hit her from behind, throwing her off-balance. Her legs buckled from the weight. Too stunned to do anything but put out her hands to soften the fall, she hit the ground with a hard thud.

“Oomph,” she cried out none too gracefully as the air escaped her chest. She slowly gained her wits and tried to move, but couldn’t. Something . . . or someone . . . hampered her. A man. He rolled with her, using the headstones as a shield. A chunk of earth bounced off the ground only inches away and she identified the ping.

“My God! Those are bullets.” Arms flailing, she struggled to get up.

“Stay down,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

She couldn’t do much else with the man sprawled on top of her. She recognized her figment’s voice. A living, breathing human voice.

“This is Arlington,” she whispered, fighting to rein in her out-of-control imagining of a gun-toting terrorist hiding in the bushes taking potshots. “Why is someone shooting?”

• • •

Jeffrey Sinclair caught the panic in her voice. “I don’t know why, but I intend to find out.” He shifted and covered her more protectively. Through layers of clothes, he felt her heartbeat race. Or was it his?

He managed to yank his radio out of his pocket and hit the button just as another bullet ricocheted off a headstone to his left. “Three shots fired.” With his lips next to her ear, he kept his voice low. “As far as I can tell, from northwest of my position.”

“On it,” came the reply.

Silence prevailed. In those quiet seconds, the alert edge left his body in an exhale, but she remained as immobile as stone.

“You’re safe,” he assured her in a soothing tone. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sin wasn’t the protecting type, but as the promise escaped his lips, he realized he meant every word.

She nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Her lemony scent blended with the dampened earth and invaded his nostrils. An inconvenient blast of awareness shot through him. As the danger diminished with each passing minute, leftover adrenaline had his heartbeat quickening, pumping more alertness through every vein and artery. He felt trapped in some kind of suspended time warp, intensifying the craziness of lying prone over some stranger. Well, not exactly a stranger. He knew enough, and though he couldn’t deny an attraction to her, he damn sure hadn’t expected Avery Montgomery to affect him like this.

Hold it together, Sin.

Remember why you’re on top of her in the first place. Someone shot at her. Unfortunately, his mental commands couldn’t extinguish her warmth radiating beneath him. The hard contours of his body dug into her softness, adding to his awareness . . . and his discomfort. He closed his eyes, willing Des to hurry, and forced himself to relax. To keep breathing.

Five . . . ten . . . twenty seconds ticked by and still nothing happened.

Finally, he lifted off her enough to let her roll onto her back but he wouldn’t relinquish his protective posture. Damn. Not his smartest move because now she lay underneath him face up. Darkness obscured her full features, but he didn’t need to see her to know she was gorgeous.

The rapid thumping of his heart continued to override the silence. With her head inches from his, the soft air of her even breathing caressed his neck. His blood pounded faster.

Don’t think about it. Think about the situation. Where in the hell is Des?

Finally, the radio came alive again. “All clear. Whoever was shooting is long gone. I’ll scout around a little more, see what I can find.”

“Thanks, but be careful. It ruins my night when someone uses me for target practice,” he answered.

Sin pushed up onto his forearms and looked down to see Avery suck in air and open her eyes. At the same time, the full moon came out of hiding and a bit of light reflected off her face, highlighting a frightened brown gaze. He began to pull away, but the glimpse of sadness he also saw stopped him cold. For long seconds their stares locked. Peering into such vivid, expressive eyes was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn’t look away.

Her turbulent gaze spoke volumes, created a bond of sorts. A mental connection, for lack of a better term, that was damned unwelcome and tossed his thoughts into chaos. Questions that had rested on the tip of his tongue scattered to the far reaches of his mind.

Whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul had it right. He didn’t know her—they’d never met—but it was as if he’d known her forever. How stupid was that? Or maybe surreal. This entire scene had a dream-like quality to it.

Of its own accord, his gaze dropped inches lower, to her mouth. An incredibly beautiful mouth. He certainly wasn’t considering doing something so stupid like kissing that mouth, was he? Because even as his brain shouted no, his body had other ideas. At that point, stupid just didn’t seem to matter.

In slow motion, he lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to turn away.

Avery didn’t move, yet that expressive gaze seemed to beg him for something, which spurred him to continue. She still didn’t pull away even when his mouth hovered over hers before grazing back and forth. The not quite kisses sent searing flashes of heat straight through him. When her lips connected with his, he wrapped his arms around her in an effort to bring her closer. Never had a kiss seemed so elemental . . . like breathing. Like being in heaven.

“I don’t see any shell casings. I’m betting the bullets came from a high-powered rifle,” his radio squawked. “So, I’ll try to find the bullets.”

Instantly, he broke the kiss and felt a twinge of regret.

Whether it was for the interruption or his impulsive act, he wasn’t certain.

• • •

As the voice seeped into Avery’s thoughts, reality hit. Her entire body stiffened. Panic re-entered her consciousness, along with total embarrassment, as the reason she lay underneath a stranger in a cemetery in the first place returned. Someone had shot at her. She had to get out of here. Get home and make sure her son was okay.

“Sin?” the same voice asked. “You there?”

He lifted off her and said into his radio, “I’m here,” then rolled away to say more.

Sin? Was that his name? How fitting. He truly was some specter sent from hell to torment her. She wasn’t someone who rolled around in graveyards with strange men after being shot at. She was a grieving widow. A mother, for heaven’s sake. Didn’t she have enough to feel guilty over?

“Are you okay?”

She glanced up at the sound and caught him eyeing her with concern etched into his expression. Are you okay? Question of the year. No, she was not okay. She’d never be okay. To prove it, she’d just spent the last few minutes in mindless absurdity, wishing the kiss with a complete stranger could go on forever. She nodded and worked at pretending she wasn’t staring into the most incredible gaze, one that saw more than she cared to expose.

Avery rubbed her temples. Who the hell was he? Whoever he was, he’d probably saved her life. Risking another glance, she took a deep breath. Even in the shadows, she noted an arresting presence. His face wasn’t pretty. Too many angles and hard edges . . . adding to his undeniable maleness. And he had a power about him that held her in its force, which only increased her internal turbulence. No wonder she’d felt protected underneath him and totally safe, which made no sense at all.

In the blink of an eye, her fear returned full force. She was totally aware of her vulnerability. His size, dwarfing her five feet nine inches, suddenly made her feel defenseless.

“You sure?” He waited a moment, watching her closely. When she didn’t offer a reply, he stood, bent to help her, and flashed a quick, lopsided grin. “Sorry about that kiss. I got carried away.”

Avery took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her up. “I . . . um . . . no problem.” What else could she say? She’d gotten carried away too? He probably thought kissing men she’d never met in cemeteries after being shot at was her norm.

Someone shot at her.

“I need to go.” She yanked her hand out of his grasp. Home. Everything would be okay if she could just make it home and check on Andy. That thought became a driving force.

“Hold on.” He reached for his wallet, retrieved a business card, and held it out. “My name’s Jeffrey Sinclair.”

Avery stopped her retreat long enough to take the card.

So his name was Sinclair, not Sin. The fact didn’t ease her conscience any after what she’d just done. Sin or no Sin, she’d made a complete fool of herself. She had to get out of here.

Despite a million questions peppering her brain, she turned and darted out of instinct, disturbed by the kiss as much as what preceded it.

Never in a billion years would she consider herself someone who’d meet an unknown man’s mouth so crazily. Not when, according to Mike, she was frigid and never got emotional. But here she was an emotional mess and the thought only swamped her with more emotion.

She veered in the direction of her parked car as more humiliation rose up over her reaction to a complete stranger. His presence had made her feel cherished. That alone seemed totally illogical, but when he’d bent to kiss her, she hadn’t been able to turn away. In those few seconds she’d felt more alive than she had in fifteen years. Mike’s kisses had never generated such a response.

“Wait. I’d like to talk to you. Make sure you’re safe.”

That same gripping, almost disturbing voice carried on the wind. She fought to ignore the urgent tone, but somehow the quality reached past the physical, just as his concerned stare had done, touching something deep inside her she didn’t want touched.

“No . . . ,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Really. I appreciate your help, but I’ve got to get home.” By the time she made it to her car she was running. She slowed her steps and looked back. He’d made no attempt to follow, thank God, just stood and watched her in the moonlit shadows. With her focus still on him, she hit the keyless entry. Lights flashed and the locks snapped up. She scrambled inside.

In seconds, Avery had her seat belt fastened and the car started. She worked to keep her foot steady as she put the car in gear and sped off.

Maybe running away denoted cowardice, but cowardice was the least of her troubles.

• • •

“What happened? Why is she leaving?”

Jeffrey Sinclair ignored the questions, still keeping a protective watch as her car’s taillights flashed brighter when she slowed to turn left onto the main road leading out of the cemetery.

“Sin?” Desmond Phillips strode up to him. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

He turned to his business partner and grunted. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“But it’s obvious at this point she’s part of it. She’s been here every night we’ve staked out the gravesite. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to discover what she knows.”

“It can wait. What I want to know is . . . why would someone try and kill her?”

“Diversionary tactic,” Des spit out. “Had to be. A high-powered rifle with a silencer? He was probably using a scope. Had a clean shot and missed. On purpose. To draw us out. Which in my book indicates some kind of involvement.”

“Maybe.” Sin’s gaze moved to the now empty street. He clenched a fist, hating that he had no answers. Why had he spoken to her? Even more disturbing, why had he kissed her . . . her, of all women?

He snorted. Hell, he knew why. He hadn’t been able to stop, that’s why. Now, more than ever, she intrigued him. Each and every evening she’d made her nightly visits, he’d stationed himself just feet away. Watching . . . waiting . . . wanting.

“Shit,” he whispered, and then shook his head. Why deny his attraction? She was one gorgeous woman with curves in all the right places. He’d dealt with attraction before and never lost his head. Not like tonight, when she’d seemed so forlorn, peering at him with those haunting eyes, begging him to give in to the need.

Sin’s fingernails dug deeper into his palms to the point of pain. He needed to find out if a connection existed between his company’s stolen technology and the two dead Army officers. He couldn’t let attractive females sidetrack him. As Des said, the lady now appeared to be involved. But to what extent?

“It’s a waste of time to keep watching tonight. Nothing’s going to happen now.”

Des’s voice yanked him back to the the reason they were lurking in a cemetery—the anonymous tip concerning the thefts from Sinclair Phillips & Coleman Electronics. “I agree.” He nodded. “Whoever we were waiting for most likely got scared off with all the commotion.”

“Had to be a setup.” Des flashed a light onto the grass surrounding the headstones. The light caught something shiny. He stopped and crouched to dig at the ground with his pocketknife.

“But why?” Sin drew a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his neck. He began rubbing, trying to massage the kinks out. “What the hell have we stumbled into? Nothing makes sense. It’s as if someone’s playing a sick game. With our company. With our livelihood.” The last phase of testing SPC’s prototypes had been right on schedule until they’d gone missing. Now they had to deal with two more thefts.

“According to Colonel Williams’s report, neither Major Crandall nor Major Montgomery fit the traitor profiles, and there’s nothing to show their involvement.” He watched Des extract a bullet from a nearby tree. Yet Montgomery had been in charge of testing the powerful light-driven tracking, listening, and recording devices. The dead major was the last known person to have them in his possession. In an attempt to learn all he could about him . . . and about her, Sin had memorized the pertinent details.

The stunning brunette’s life read like a storybook romance on paper until Montgomery’s death. Her deceased husband had been an all-American—athletic, good-looking, gifted—the poster boy for his college fraternity. The high school sweethearts had lived in the D.C. area, attending local Alexandria schools until college. He’d been two years ahead of her, graduating summa cum laude from Georgetown University before entering the Army.

“The colonel’s right. Major Montgomery served ten years with a spotless record and several medals.” Sin exhaled a resigned sigh. “He’s a fricking war hero, not your usual scumbag who’s sold his country’s latest technology to the highest bidder.”

Crandall’s file read similarly. Despite the glowing words, Sin wasn’t about to remove either officer from his short list of suspects. Military Intelligence had cleared them of all wrongdoing, but he and his partners couldn’t afford to overlook any possibility. Too much was at stake.

“Maybe Montgomery needed the money.”

“Money wasn’t an issue.” Sin met Des’s gaze. “He came from old money, had access to a hefty trust fund. In fact, according to the file, several generations of Montgomerys earned money through interest, not hard work, and they all had one thing in common. They believed in giving back to society through public service, which plays into the war hero scenario.”

He didn’t want to think he harbored a prejudice toward dead heroes, but if Sin were totally honest, he’d have to admit to one. He’d always held such men in contempt, those born with not only the silver spoon but also the whole meal.

“Crandall didn’t have Montgomery’s megabucks, but their backgrounds are parallel.” Sin scrubbed a hand over his face. How could they be anything but heroes with that upbringing? Poster boys like Montgomery always had it easy, had their way paved, so much so they never had to truly fight for anything, always got their pick of everything just because of who they were . . . the best jobs with the best salaries attracting the best mates. The gutter Sin had climbed out of was totally at the other end of the spectrum. Unlike Montgomery or Crandall, he’d had to fight for everything.

Still, he dealt in logic and probabilities. Logically, the probabilities pointed to their innocence. As the colonel had stated during their last meeting, they had nil to go on as far as motive for tying either man to any treasonous treachery.

“The wife’s involved. I know it. She’s been here every night we have.” Des pocketed the bullets and was now shining the light in the distance. “That means something.”

“Coincidence. She is Montgomery’s widow, after all.”

“Too much coincidence for my liking. Who visits a gravesite so often these days?” Des’s voice held disbelief. “And for so long?”

“A grieving widow whose husband recently died?”

“Maybe.” Des nodded, still searching. “Or maybe she’s in on it and the husband wasn’t?”

Sin’s gaze followed the beam of light hitting row after row of white stones. “She’s definitely someone to question, but you can’t really think she’s involved in passing stolen technology?”

“I’m suspicious of everyone until I understand their motives,” Des said. “If she were the target tonight, she’d be dead. And since she was alive enough to run away, my gut tells me she’s part of the ploy to draw us out.”

“You’re too cynical. I’d think you’d be less biased, given your previous occupation,” Sin teased. Such scorn resulted from Des’s colossal mistake—marrying the wrong woman. Sin understood because he hadn’t made the best of choices in a wife and had his own form of cynicism in dealing with the opposite sex. Still, he tried to be objective about it.

“Cynical or not, she’s someone I want to interrogate.” Des flicked off the light, but not before Sin caught the annoyance on his face.

Yep, Des’s expression and tone indicated he’d already tried and convicted the lady. Sin wasn’t inclined to condemn her so hastily. She just didn’t seem like the traitor type. Having never finished her degree, she’d dropped out to marry Montgomery ten years ago and had a baby some seven months after the wedding.

Okay, so they had to get married, Sin thought. But that was kids being too hot and heavy and not using birth control. As far as he was concerned, being stupid and horny rarely led to selling out your country for monetary gain. He could even see how it might have happened, given Avery was a woman a man could lose his sanity over enough to forget the condom.

Lucky bastard . . . then again, maybe not so lucky as the guy’s ashes are buried only two feet away and she’s still vibrantly alive. If she were his, he wouldn’t want to be separated from her for an instant.

“There has to be something,” he whispered, not liking the ditch his thoughts had plowed into. “Some link with her dead husband to all of this.”

“The wife is the connection, I’m telling you.” Des pointed his flashlight at him as if making a point. “Wives, especially wives who’ve been married for so long, generally know not only where the bodies are buried, but how many and how deep.”

Sin didn’t reply. Right now the widow was the only solid lead they had.

“What about Williams? Maybe the military’s made progress.”

Sin frowned. “I doubt it.” Colonel Williams was the Army official in charge of procuring and, in his mind, the person who supposedly got things done. Yet their Army liaison seemed useless in this situation. “He’s not concerned with the theft, thanks to the fail-safe.” If the prototypes landed in the wrong hands, they’d shut down without the proper sequence of numbers, and then self-destruct in fifteen hundred hours. Roughly seven days from now unless reactivated. “I rushed through the process and finalized our contract with the Army without thoroughly weighing the consequences. I certainly didn’t think anyone would steal our product before it’d been fully tested.” Sin sighed. “I thought the military would provide an element of security.”

“It’s understandable.” Des clapped him on the back and grinned. “If you can’t trust your government, who can you trust?”

“That’s no excuse.” Sin clenched his jaw. “Not for us. Not for me. Fulfilling this contract is too essential to our success.” If the components weren’t found in time, Williams would declare the project a failure. SPC Electronics, would be out millions, a loss they couldn’t afford right now. Due to a provision in the contract stating SPC would be paid only upon confirmation of the technology working, there wasn’t a damned thing Sin could do to stop the verdict.

“It’s obvious the colonel has little interest in helping us.” Sin shook his head in frustration. “He doesn’t give a shit about whether or not we go under. His main concerns are saving face and not having to deal with military bureaucracy.” With only a week left, the clock was ticking.

“I’ve still got a few friends on the force who owe me some favors.” Des started walking toward the road. “I’ll see if they can analyze these bullets.” He patted his pocket. “Maybe we’ll learn something useful.”

Sin nodded and silently fell into step. At least Williams had provided him with a special sticker, the same one surviving spouses and family members received to enter the national cemetery after hours. “Maybe we should reconsider hiring a PI.”

“We don’t need outsiders.” Des exhaled heavily. “They hold too many risks.”

Sin nodded. Trust was the biggest issue, that and finding an investigator with the clearances necessary to deal with such sensitive information

“You’re right, of course,” Sin finally said as they reached his car. When Des sent him a questioning look, he added, “We should talk to Mrs. Montgomery, and the sooner the better. Let’s go back to the office to see if Eric’s still there.” Eric Coleman was their third partner.

He hit the keyless entry. Both opened their doors and slid inside simultaneously.

Sin wasn’t looking forward to questioning the lady, given his earlier reaction. Maybe Des could do it without him. The minute the thought was out, he discarded it.

An ex-homicide detective, Des could spot inconsistencies and lies within seconds of talking to a person, a handy skill to possess due to the sensitive nature of their business. He was also a real pro at solving puzzles, but his friend wasn’t what Sin would call a people person. With his square, muscular physique, he’d make a perfect bouncer in one of D.C.’s hottest nightclubs. And despite his stern, military-like bearing and short, dirty-blond buzz cut, both throwbacks from an early Marine Corps experience, the ladies must like him as he never lacked female company.

Sin watched Des snap his seat belt into place. Smiling, he started the engine and pulled onto the road. As he drove, his grin spread. He stifled a chuckle. Since Sin had already irritated the female in question with his actions, he couldn’t risk poking the stick of Des’s contemptuous personality at her and inflaming her further. SPC’s chief of security might attract women like pollen-loaded daisies attracted bees, but his demeanor toward them was spiked with vinegar, not honey.

Questioning Mrs. Montgomery required teamwork, and they made a great team . . . sort of like good cop/bad cop when they interviewed prospective employees and clients.

Sin’s breath came out in a long sigh. Unfortunately, he’d have to play his good cop part if he wanted to gain any useful information.

The memory of having her soft body under his flashed and he shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat.

“Damn,” he said under his breath, punching the accelerator. No matter how hard he tried, the image wouldn’t shake free. He didn’t need any more complications.

And Avery Montgomery might prove to be a huge one.

• • •

Once Avery was miles down the road, well away from him, the incident replayed in her mind. Incident? She snorted, unable to describe what happened so simply.

An out-of-control kiss, maybe, but definitely not a mere incident. Guilt immersed her, filling her with more self-loathing. How could she have acted like a complete idiot . . . a lovesick fool without any restraint? She was a grieving widow, not some sex-starved hussy.

If that were true, then why did some part of her wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted? No. She hadn’t liked kissing him. Fear, grief, and remorse had hit her all at once, creating her erratic behavior. Even so, she had to admit that Mike’s kisses had never affected her like that.

At a red light, she closed her eyes for a brief second. Without the man’s influence, she could finally think clearer. Someone had shot at her. Her earlier fear returned full force. Ice water ran through her veins replacing some of the other emotions. She stared in the rearview mirror searching for unseen threats and making note of those behind her.

When the light changed, her foot pushed the gas pedal. Hard. The car shot forward and sped up quickly. Her eyes kept checking the rearview mirror as she drove. One car in particular caught and held her attention. Her heartbeat increased.

Avery breathed out a relieved sigh the moment the car turned off, blocks from her house.

She pressed the garage door opener so that it was fully open when she pulled into her driveway at the rear of her Georgetown house. She didn’t wait to hit the button to lower the door. As it closed, she put the car in park, turned off the engine, and stared at the wall in front of her.

Maybe she should have gone to the police. No. Arlington was military jurisdiction and she’d rather avoid anything to do with the military, especially Colonel Williams. She didn’t fully trust him. Yet, what about the guy she’d kissed? Who was he?

Her hand went to her pocket, where she’d stashed his business card. She pulled it out and read: Jeffrey Sinclair—CEO of SPC Electronics. He said he wanted to talk to her. What was he doing at the gravesite, and not just tonight? She had no doubt he’d been there on those other nights she’d visited. And her biggest concern . . . who was shooting and why? Was she the target or was he?

Had to be him. And I got caught in some kind of crossfire.

Movement at the door separating the kitchen and the garage drew Avery’s attention and Terry poked her head out after opening it.

Her sister watched for several minutes before she stepped forward and smiled. “Everything okay?” she asked, opening the car door when Avery made no attempt to move.

Avery couldn’t help but notice how close the question was to what he had asked. As far as she was concerned, the answer hadn’t changed. She wondered if she’d ever be okay again. She sighed, tucked the card away, intending to research the company later, and climbed out of the car.

“Sure.” She returned the smile. Except it felt forced. Without meeting Terry’s curious gaze, she grabbed her purse and headed inside. She needed to think . . . analyze her behavior . . . before she told anyone about the events of the past hour, and that included her sister.

The minute Avery got through the door, her son rushed her, extracting a more natural grin. It was hard not to smile when Andy was around.

“Hey, kiddo!” She ruffled his hair before wrapping her arms around him as he hugged her waist. She walked farther into the kitchen without breaking contact. “You have school in the morning. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I was too scared to go to bed alone. Aunt Terry said I could wait up for you.”

Avery hugged her son more fiercely. “Sorry I wasn’t here, honey.”

“That’s okay. But I’ll be able to sleep if you tuck me in.”

Andy didn’t wait for an answer, instead went skipping off toward his room with absolute conviction she would follow. Avery did, relieved he was so resilient, and wishing she could steal some of his resiliency. If only her mind worked like a child’s, then she could forget the past and bounce back, ready to tackle the next phase of her life. Like a mantle, the shadow of her deeds fell on her shoulders again, weighing her down like the heaviest stones.

When she entered her son’s room, Avery found him under the blanket, holding up a book and watching her with hopeful expectation. She grinned and strode toward him, unable to deny his unspoken request. Manipulated or not, she was a sucker for Andy’s sweet expression.

She slid in next to him, got comfortable, and pulled him closer. With him curled beside her, she opened the book and began reading. Ten minutes later, she unwound herself from his slumbering form, careful not to wake him.

Avery stood and stared at her son’s features, so much like Mike’s. Raw pain gripped her, held her in its clutches, and ripped her heart in two. Andy was the spitting image of her husband at the same age. She had the many pictures in albums to prove it. Was this her punishment . . . to be haunted by her actions every time she looked at her son . . . never to forget?

Why had she sent that letter? Why hadn’t she spoken up when she’d had the chance? Now it was too late. Would Andy forgive her if he knew? Avery sighed and tugged the blanket around him, more as a protective gesture than to keep him warm in the late May evening. She brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead and smiled, still staring but no longer seeing her son’s face.

Of course he’d never learn of it. She’d gone to great lengths to make sure. That last letter to Mike was now safely locked away from prying eyes, as was his answer. For some perverse reason, she’d saved both and kept going back to them night after night, as if she needed the reminder to never make the same mistake again. Sometimes she wished the military hadn’t been so efficient in sending Mike’s belongings back to her.

Her hand went to the heart-shaped locket she wore around her neck. Fingering the sweet gift Mike had sent her, she realized the memento was another reminder. Would she ever be able to take it off and move forward?

A tear broke loose, then trekked down her face. Where had her marriage gone wrong? Why hadn’t she been able to love her husband enough for a lifetime? Now that her life was so jaggedly torn apart with his death, why did she wish she could undo what she’d done? Because your letter most likely caused his death.

Avery retreated from her son’s room.

In the kitchen, Terry stood at the stove and lifted the whistling teakettle. The piercing sound died instantly. No one spoke.

She approached the counter noting two inviting cups and tea bags. “Just what I need.”

“You looked a little frazzled.” Terry spent a moment pouring hot water over the bags. Once done, she set the teakettle down before handing her the cup. “Figured you could use my calming remedy before I take off.”

Avery’s lips curled at the edges, forming the genuine smile that wouldn’t come earlier. Terry’s answer to every problem lay in a cup of tea—that and the accompanying conversation.

“Thanks,” she murmured, lifting the cup to her lips. She leaned against the counter. Breathing in the aroma of the hot liquid, her smile increased. There might actually be some validity to the thinking, since she was feeling better.

“You shouldn’t be skulking in cemeteries so close to dark. They aren’t safe.”

Avery almost choked on her tea. “I was visiting my dead husband’s grave, not skulking. Besides, Arlington’s an exception.” No need to reveal how dangerous her visit had actually been.

The night’s events had proven Arlington National Cemetery wasn’t the safest place on earth, in fact had become a place to avoid, for now. Being shot at was enough to scare anyone senseless. She was safe and sound in her own kitchen. The danger had long passed. Now that the threat seemed far away, almost a distant memory, the idea somehow paled to the thought of being yanked to the ground by a stranger and then kissing him in a wild moment. A flush of heat streaked up her face. She quickly brought the tea closer to her mouth to camouflage her reaction. She and Terry shared secrets. Her sister even knew of Avery’s request for a divorce from her husband, something no one else knew except her lawyer. She couldn’t share this. Not yet.

If Terry caught wind of anything happening tonight, Avery would have to relay all the specifics . . . and quite frankly, she wasn’t exactly sure what those specifics entailed. She certainly wouldn’t be able to articulate so much as an inkling of what she’d been thinking. All she’d do is upset her sister. She had no idea why someone shot at her or even if she was the target.

Had to be him. As for the other? It was anyone’s guess why an unknown man had drawn such a strong response, especially when her husband, whom she’d idolized as a teen and felt the luckiest person in the world to marry, never had. It had to be some kind of awkward response to her situation. Guilt and grief mixed with fear, resulting in an emotional overload.

“You look like you’re feeling better. Your color’s back.” Terry shook her head and tsk-tsked like the older sister she was. “I just wish something more than a cemetery visit had caused it.”

Avery’s laugh, an indisputable burst of humor absent since before Mike’s deployment to Afghanistan four months ago, felt natural. She took another long sip of tea. Then she exhaled, holding on to her smile. Maybe she was analyzing this from the wrong angle. Maybe the emotional overload from her near-death experience had been a good thing because suddenly she felt less encumbered. Freer. Something had happened tonight outside of the craziness of stray bullets and kissing strangers. Something inside her had changed, making her think of life beyond guilt.

She sighed. If only that were possible. She had no idea what the future held. All she knew was at that moment she felt . . . alive.

• • •

He’d begun tailing Avery Montgomery’s car on her way out of the cemetery, following her until a few blocks from her house where he’d turned off and had circled back. He now sat half a block away, watching the house through binoculars.

All was calm. Upstairs, a few lights burned, revealing several open windows. He did a visual of the dark yard and noted a couple of tall trees. One might provide the means to get inside. Due to the earlier incident at the cemetery, tonight wasn’t the time to try. She’d be wary and on her guard. He was thankful she hadn’t called military police. That would have caused major headaches for all involved.

He rolled his eyes, wondering how this fucking operation had derailed so far off its original track. He didn’t like putting innocent civilians at risk but the risk was necessary in this instance, according to his superiors. He started the car and pulled away from the curb.

He’d return at dawn and wait for an opportunity to search her house.

The Sin Factor – Book 1

Other Books by Sandy Loyd

Contemporary Romances:

THE CALIFORNIA SERIES

Winter Interlude – Book 1

Promises, Promises – Book 2

James – Book 3

A Quickstep to Romance – Book 4

The Promise of Tomorrow – Book 5

California Series – Books 1, 2, & 3

California Series – Books 2, 3, & 4

SECOND CHANCES SERIES

Tropical Spice – Book 1

Christmas Short Stories:

A Christmas Miracle

Contemporary/Time Travel/Historical:

TIMELESS SERIES

Time Will Tell – Book 1

Games – Book 2

Temptation – Book 3

Romantic Suspense:

DC BAD BOYS SERIES

The Sin Factor – Book 1

Raising The Stakes – Book 2

DC Bad Boys Series – Books 1 & 2

RUNNING SERIES

Running From Love

DEADLY SERIES

Deadly Misconceptions

STANDALONE BOOKS

A Matter Of Trust

Kicker’s Legacy

Shattered Dreams

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

About the Author

Excerpt from The Sin Factor

Other Books by Sandy Loyd

OJW Conversion -

Table of Contents

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

About the Author

Excerpt from The Sin Factor

Other Books by Sandy Loyd