Simply Sinful Page 12

  His expression darkened. “Yeah, the books.” He turned away.

  She followed him to the sink, dishes in hand. His shirt strained against the powerful muscles in his back. They’d once rippled beneath her fingertips. She exhaled a sigh. If by a long night, he meant one fraught with sexual tension, she agreed.

  His abrupt turn caught her unaware. Suddenly she wasn’t faced with the man’s back, but his face. His eyes, a turbulent wash of emotions, none of which she could decipher, settled on hers. Razor stubble darkened his cheeks, matching his current mood.

  Her fingertips curled around the dish in her hand.

  “I want to get one thing straight.” He eased the ceramic plate out of her grip and placed it in the sink behind him.

  Nothing stood between herself and Kane, no barrier existed between his magnetic pull and her tempted body. Without the small dish in her hand, she felt exposed…naked. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m here because I have a job to do.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” she muttered.

  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here.”

  Kayla forced a smile. “You want me. I think we’ve covered this territory before.”

  “Yeah, I do. But my job means keeping you safe and, despite what I said earlier, that means keeping my distance.”

  “I didn’t know one thing had anything to do with the other.” Just twenty minutes ago, Kayla had listed every reason in her mind why she wouldn’t sleep with Kane again. Hearing him agree with her, however, hadn’t factored into her plan and hurt more than she would have imagined. Now she found herself wanting to argue against her own logic.

  This battle of wills they had going was beginning to wear on her. Coupled with the constant sexual pull, the result was a roller-coaster ride of emotions. She wanted the battle to end, but only Kane’s capitulation on all levels could do that. He had to trust in her—he had to trust in himself.

  Funny, she thought. For years, she’d lacked similar faith in herself. But a few days with Kane, and she’d begun to regain the inner strength and belief she’d been lacking. He did that for her. And regardless of the outcome of them, she could never regret the time they’d shared.

  But that didn’t mean she was about to relinquish control.

  “One thing has everything to do with the other,” he said.

  Kayla froze in place. She sensed the import of his statement, understood this was as close a view inside Kane’s mind as she was likely to get. So she listened.

  “There’s something in life called an edge…at least there is in my life. Without it, I’m no good as a cop and even worse as a man. Every time I’ve let my guard down in any way, things go wrong.”

  The guilt thing again. She shook her head. “You aren’t responsible for what’s happened to me.”

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “You know that wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t blaming you.”

  “Then maybe you should. Maybe both of you should,” he muttered.

  “Who, Kane?” she asked quietly.

  He shut his eyes before speaking. Deep grooves formed at the corners, testament to how difficult this upcoming admission would be. “I always came straight home from school. My mother was fragile, and she relied on me walking in the door at the same time every day. Even before my dad took off, routine was important to her. She got up, washed her hands, ate breakfast, washed her hands, watched TV, washed her hands, I came home, she…”

  “Washed her hands,” Kayla finished for him.

  He met her gaze.

  “She sounds obsessive compulsive.”

  He shrugged. “I guess she was, but I didn’t know the clinical term back then. She had good days and bad days, up days and down days.” He drew a deep breath. “If I came home from school when I was supposed to, she took her medication on time. And the one day I didn’t…”

  She walked in front of a moving bus. Kane didn’t have to speak for Kayla to hear. His body shook in reaction to his unspoken words. She reached out and took his hand, silently offering comfort.

  The man shouldered more responsibility than was necessary, more guilt than she’d ever imagined. “You said she had good days and bad days, Kane. Isn’t it possible she didn’t kill herself, but got confused, or wasn’t looking? Did she leave a note?”

  He shook his head. “Does it really matter? If I’d been home, it wouldn’t have happened.” His warm hand curled around hers. “And if I’d been thinking about my job and not preoccupied with my feelings for you, you wouldn’t have been attacked.”

  Kayla tried to sort through his words, to hear past his misplaced guilt. He hadn’t let go of the boy who felt responsible for his only parent. He couldn’t accept it wasn’t an eleven-year-old’s job to be the adult of the household. While growing up, she and Catherine had borne too many adult responsibilities of their own, and felt an out-of-proportion responsibility for each other. Kayla could relate to Kane’s life.

  The emotional barriers, the distance, and the all-consuming need to control things around him—they all made a strange sort of sense to her now. She wasn’t sure she could ever undo the scars embedded in his past, no matter how much she wanted to.

  In the library, he’d told her he was doing all he could do. That had to be enough. When the case was over, if he wanted to stay, she’d welcome him with open arms. If he wanted to walk away, she’d let him go.

  He deserved to know he had that kind of freedom.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HER TOES WERE PAINTED PINK. Ridiculous he would notice considering she sat deciphering books that put her life in danger. With all quiet for the moment, Kane leaned back in his seat enjoying the view.

  She chewed on the eraser head of a pencil, her shimmering lips pursed in thought. Maybe he could take just a quick taste. He shook his head, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to lessen the constant ache of arousal, nor would it ease the pressure in his chest that had been present since their earlier conversation.

  When was the last time he’d thought of his mother, let alone discussed his past aloud? It had been a long time and he planned for it to be never again. But if soul-baring had given Kayla an explanation for his reluctance to take things further, dredging up the pain had been worthwhile. She’d spent too many years believing herself unworthy of more than an admiring glance or a groping hand. Better she believed he had the problem, not her.

  Better he walked away from her knowing he’d given something in return.

  “Sullivan, John.” Her voice brought him back to the present.

  “Another big player,” Kane said. “He owns real estate all over the city.” They’d been at the books over two hours. Rather she’d been at them.

  He’d been watching. The shifting of her legs, drawing his attention to the warm place in between. The animation then the scowl of frustration crossing her face, resulting in a pout of her lips that made him desire more than a simple kiss. All in the name of the case, he reminded himself more than once, trying to push aside the things she made him feel.

  The first book contained a list of female names that neither he nor Kayla recognized. The women, Kane assumed, who worked for Charmed!’s side business. The last few books produced a list of male names as impressive as it was extensive. Where before they only had an informant’s tip, they now had probable clients and their call girls. Thanks to Kayla’s intelligence and persistence.

  As much as he’d fought against letting her handle things, he had to admire the results. He sure as hell admired the woman.

  Kane was certain these highly placed, mostly married, men would talk. The more puzzle questions she answered, the longer the list of names had become. They covered all upper-crust walks of life. And none of these men would want the scandal sure to be caused if their private lives were made public.

  “I need a break.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. Bare feet peeked from beneath narrowed blue jeans and she wiggled her toes in a lon
g stretch.

  “Put it away for the night. You’ve still got the end of a concussion and need rest.” Something he wouldn’t be getting much of tonight. After spending the evening watching her work, that much he knew for sure.

  “Don’t I know it. Besides, except for one last run-through, I think I’m near finished.” Her eyelids fluttered closed, shades of exhaustion evident. “But I have to finish tonight.” She grabbed for the first book in their pile, the one that began the list of names, and fanned through. “We have a growing list, but we’re no closer to…Kane?” Her voice rose in excitement.

  He sat forward in his seat. “What is it?”

  “Major change here. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before. Look. All the earlier books were done in pencil, right?”

  He nodded. Not that he’d have noticed if she hadn’t pointed her family’s quirk out earlier. Experts at crosswords did them in pen with no fear of mistakes.

  “But here—there’s a mix of pencil and pen.” She studied the book for a second and grabbed another, glancing through it. “This one, too. Look.”

  He was beside her in an instant.

  “Here. Black ink instead of pencil. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it first time around.”

  “I missed the change, too.” He skimmed the pages of the remaining books. “Same with these.”

  “This is it, Kane. It’s what I was looking for. It’s my aunt’s clue.”

  “What?”

  “It was her way of letting us know she wasn’t doing this willingly, Kane. I’d bet my life on it.”

  He closed his eyes at the thought. He was getting damn tired of her life being on the line. She didn’t need to remind him. “Okay, let’s say you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. When the guy grabbed me the other day, he mentioned money and when he called he mentioned the books. These books.” She drew a deep breath. “Not only do they have the names, which is incriminating enough, but maybe he knew Aunt Charlene was dropping clues.”

  “Possible,” Kane muttered.

  “So tell me why we can’t find a trace of the money,” she said with frustration.

  “There’re plenty of places to hide cash without the accountant knowing,” he said. “Offshore accounts, for one. Without a number they’re untraceable.”

  “But this guy seems to believe I know where the money is. Why?”

  He shrugged. “Impossible to know what they’re thinking. But they do want their take. Any clue in those books where the money could be hidden?”

  She shook her head. “Just the names. No phone numbers, either, since these are all letter puzzles.”

  He shrugged. “The money is something we might never find. Unless things unravel well at the end. My guess is the men in those books contacted someone at Charmed!, not vice versa. Too risky the other way. Your uncle probably took the calls.”

  “My uncle?” A grin edged the corners of her luscious mouth. “That means you believe me—Aunt Charlene was being used or threatened.”

  “Like I said, anything is possible, sweetheart. But the lists are extensive. At the very least, she knew what was going on.” He hated like hell to remind her, but he didn’t want her hurt more in the end because she hadn’t considered the possibility.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “That doesn’t mean she was a willing participant. I believe she had no choice.”

  Kane didn’t know what to believe other than the fact that Kayla believed in her aunt. Hell, he didn’t blame her. If he’d had even one person to rely on in his life, he wouldn’t want to give up hope, either.

  He glanced at Kayla. He wanted to believe in her. But his job required proof. They didn’t know what the change from pencil to pen meant. Maybe they never would.

  She wasn’t ready to count the older woman out yet. Kane groaned, wishing for her benefit she wasn’t so naive. And yet that was what he loved about her…

  Kane coughed.

  “Are you okay?”

  He forced a nod and mentally changed topics. “Whoever these clients contacted, they probably paid cash, your uncle supplied the women, took his share and cut his partner in on the rest.”

  “The man we want.”

  “Or woman,” Kane reminded her. “Remember the Mayflower Madam, for starters.”

  She nodded. “They also want the books, which means these books.” She lifted one in her hand.

  “Your uncle’s leverage,” Kane said. “With these in his possession, your uncle was guaranteed his take.”

  She glanced at her watch. “It’s been hours since the last call.”

  “It’s a waiting game. The more time that goes by, the more nervous you’ll get. They hope.”

  “Well, they’re right. I’m more than nervous. Just the thought of what could have happened, terrifies me.”

  “You’ve realized how dangerous it would be to get even more involved.” Fear released its hold. He exhaled a rush of air, the first easy breath since she’d announced her plans in the captain’s office hours earlier. “Don’t worry. Reid won’t mind,” he went on. “We can work around it, use a decoy. Just remember, when he calls, keep him talking. Maybe we can trace it. Agree to a drop, not a face-to-face meeting and—”

  “I haven’t changed my mind.” She interrupted his instructions in a soft but determined voice.

  “But you just said…”

  “I admitted I’m afraid. I’m human. So sue me. But I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “If you’re shaky, it’ll show. Things could get messy. Go with your gut.”

  “I am and my gut tells me I have to do this.”

  “Dammit, why?” He slammed his hand against the end table beside his chair until it rocked on unsteady legs. He’d roared. She didn’t flinch. Not a sign he was even close to convincing her to opt out.

  “Look.” He braced his hands on his legs and leaned forward in his seat. “There are experienced people to do this for you. No risk. Why not take advantage?”

  She ran a hand through her hair. The soft strands fell back around her face, creating a vulnerability he knew was part real, part illusion. This woman was tougher than the softness on the outside revealed. It was just a part of why he was drawn to her.

  “It’s my life that’s been turned upside down and I want to be the one to get it back.” She met his gaze. “Like you, I’ve been taking care of myself longer than I can remember. It’s not in me to give up the job to someone else, even when it gets tough.”

  “Dangerous,” he countered.

  “Whatever.”

  “You’d be relinquishing the job to professionals. There’s a difference.”

  “Not to me. I gave up a decent job, with a decent salary and dreams of finishing school to run this family business. Because, despite it all, I love my family. Now I find out it might be a front for an escort service. Am I the only one who doesn’t miss the irony here? I have to see this through to the end. And I have to clear my aunt’s name.”

  In her voice, Kane heard the same determination he felt on every case. In her eyes, he saw the same need to accomplish a goal. He respected it enough to want to know more. “Just what irony are you talking about?” he asked quietly.

  She rose from the couch and crossed the room until she stood beside him. Her scent worked against his restraint, tantalizing his senses, seducing his soul.

  “It’s proof,” she whispered. Meeting his gaze, she lifted her hand, then let it drift downward, boldly outlining the rounded swell of her breast and the generous curve of her hips. Her nipples pressed taut and rigid beneath the cream-colored T-shirt she’d changed into before dinner.

  His mouth grew dry, his palms damp. Wanting Kayla wasn’t new. It was as much a part of him as breathing. But right now, it was damned inappropriate. His brain registered the fact his pulsing body seemed determined to ignore.

  With great difficulty, and even breathing, will-power won out. “Proof of what?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

  “This.”
Her hand traced her curves once more. “This is an illusion.”

  “A beautiful one.” One that tormented him on a minute by minute basis.

  Thinking back to their first meeting gave him a clue as to what she meant now. He recalled her inability to accept a compliment and her immediate withdrawal whenever he stared too long, or got too close. He’d gotten past those barriers, but not without effort.

  He glanced at the body made for sin. “But it’s not what counts,” he said.

  “You’re the first person to recognize that.” Appreciation lit her gaze and a warm smile lifted her lips. The knowledge that he could touch her on such a fundamental level pleased him.

  “You’re the first person to see beyond the bimbo.”

  He winced at her coarse put-down of herself.

  “It’s one thing for me to run a charm school. Another for someone like me to take over what turns out to be an escort service or worse. I mean, look at me. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the girl they couldn’t vote most likely to do anything, because they believed she already had. Of course, she and her family are behind a prostitution ring,” she said with a brittle laugh.

  Kane would like to go back in time. To beat the living daylights out of anyone who had even looked at her sideways. And if they had the nerve to put a finger on her body, or let her name pass through their lips…then he’d like to…

  She reached upward. Her fingertips traced what had to be a scowl creasing his forehead, then she smiled. “Don’t look so fierce.” Her voice was lighter now. “I grew up hearing it. Words can’t hurt me anymore.”

  Her steady green gaze zeroed in on his. She pinned him in place with a searing look. “But lack of faith in me, in my abilities, can. You can.”

  He didn’t need an interpreter to understand. He’d just been suckered by the intelligent woman beneath the well-rounded curves. He’d been taken in by the best.

  Kane shook his head. He had to admit, he was impressed. He’d never run into someone who could hold their own with him, let alone best him without much effort. He hated and respected her involvement with the case, all at the same time. Should he continue to fight her determination by opposing her plan, he’d be no better than the scum who came before him. Men who’d looked at the body and assumed Kayla was easy.