A Killing Kind of Love: A Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense (18 page)

“I’m sorry.” She paused, gathered some composure, feeling much like a doctor or police officer who had to report a death in the family. “I assumed you knew. Adam Dunn is Kylie’s biological father.”

When Camryn’s words registered, it took only seconds before Dan processed and accepted them. Somehow it made sense of things. His wife’s lover was Kylie’s biological father. He wouldn’t have guessed, but maybe he should have.

His gaze caught and followed a powerboat skimming the lake waters and leaving a silver-white wake; he watched it until his breathing eased. For a time he didn’t speak, just let the last few months of anger, confusion, and downright misery roll over him.

He’d come by Camryn’s house to visit his daughter and spend time with Camryn, work at getting her to trust him. Instead he was kicked back to his doomed marriage, his first serious attempt at building a relationship. A goddamn fiasco, if ever there was one. The only good thing to come out of it was Kylie.

Camryn, standing beside him, chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then said again, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been the one to tell you.” She appeared to study him. “You don’t look surprised.”

“In the last few months, I’ve been nothing but surprised. I guess by now the expression has a look of permanency.” He took his eyes from the lake and looked down at her. Her shoulder-length brown hair, catching the breeze, ruffled around her face. In the daylight her hair was shot with dark gold. He hadn’t noticed that before. “I asked her once about Kylie’s father. She said he was the biggest mistake of her life, and he was out of it. For good. She said there was no need to tell me anything about him, because he’d never be a part of Kylie’s life. She’d made sure of that, she said.” He shrugged. “That was it. She didn’t want to say more, so I didn’t push it.”

“Didn’t want to know, maybe?”

“Maybe.”

A sad half-smile played briefly over Camryn’s mouth. “Strange …”

He raised a brow, waited.

“Holly pulled out all the stops to keep Adam out of Kylie’s life, but she couldn’t keep him out of hers.”

“Explain.”

She pulled her jacket closed and crossed her arms. “After Kylie was born, Holly went to her father—something she rarely did—and asked him to ensure Adam stayed out of the picture. Paul was more than happy to oblige.” There was that half-smile again. “You think he didn’t like you? He despised Adam. He was ecstatic that Holly had, as he said, ‘come to her senses.’ Adam’s parental rights were terminated based on ‘abandonment and parental disinterest.’ “She frowned slightly. “I think those are the right words. Paul wrote a fat check to make sure Adam didn’t fight it. He didn’t. He took the money and headed off into the sunset—with another woman. Paul was happy enough to write the check. He said it ‘spoke to character,’ and if the ‘bastard’—his words—ever came back, that cancelled check would come in real handy.”

“He was probably right.” Dan moved to the rail, looked across the lake, leaving his back to her. “But you say he’s come back—for Kylie.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Why would he do that?” Dan turned to face her. “After all this time?”

She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, looked uncomfortable—or angry. He couldn’t tell. The wind had kicked up and was sending a chill. She hugged herself. “Money.”

“He wants his kid so he can make a profit off her?” Something in Dan’s stomach curdled even as he thought it was a damn good thing all it would take was cash to get rid of Dunn. “And Grantman would go for that.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

“He’d pay what he had to—for Erin.”

“Jesus.” As “low” went, Dan didn’t know who the hell was worse, Grantman for trying to buy Kylie for his wife, or Dunn for selling her. But as a motive for murder, Dunn’s scummy plans might interest the Boston Police Department—more so considering Holly had kissed the guy off days before she was shot. He’d let the police know about it while he did some digging of his own. When he was finished, he’d know the label in Dunn’s briefs.

Dan cocked a brow. “Has it occurred to you that you’re in the middle of all this? That you’re Dunn’s latest obstacle—one he didn’t expect?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle Adam.” She shot him a calm glance.

He studied the serious face of the woman standing beside him, impressed by her confidence but feeling edgy, afraid she wasn’t taking Dunn seriously enough.

I don’t want her hurt.

The thought, coming hard and fast, made his gut tight and his head feel as if it had been invaded by aliens.
What the hell?
And he thought he’d been so goddamn smart: get close, get closer… He’d thought it was all about Kylie, keeping his daughter. When the hell had it changed? When had it become about this steady, brown-haired woman standing next to him, a woman who looked as if she’d have no problem repelling an assault from an armored tank—but who might also have done a little underestimating of her own. “You sure of that?” he finally asked.

“Adam’s a fool—an arrogant fool. A Peter Pan. He’s never been able to see anything through in his whole faithless life. I don’t think his wanting Kylie will be any different. It’s a whim. The chance of the moment. With a few delays, some waiting days, and no instant gratification, he’ll get bored, or some other ‘chance’ will show up in a tight skirt and stilettos. When it does, he’ll move on as if nothing happened. As if Kylie hadn’t happened.” Her mouth tensed. “He’s a man with no staying power except in—” She stopped, reddened.

Dan got her drift. Didn’t like it, and sure as hell didn’t want to think about it.

When he said nothing, she lifted her chin, added, “I know what you’re thinking—”

“I doubt that.” Hell, he didn’t know himself.

She chewed her lower lip a couple of times, then said, “Adam and I have a history. A very ancient history.”

“Your business.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And that kiss?”

“His idea. Not mine.” She rubbed her hand across her mouth.

He decided the smart thing was to get back to the matter at hand. “So you propose to handle him by ignoring him.”

She shook her head, looked at him with determined, very sharp eyes. “No, what I intend to do is make things complicated, difficult, and confrontational. Adam doesn’t do any of those very well.”

“Sounds risky.”
And with no guarantee.
“A lot of time has passed. He may have changed.”

“He hasn’t changed.” She spoke with certainty, again shaking her head. “Men like Adam never change.”

Dan didn’t have her sense of conviction, and, more than that, he hated the idea of Camryn playing games with Dunn, putting herself at risk. Didn’t like it at all. “What makes you so sure?”

“He proposed to me.”

Dan’s brain darkened, and he pushed away from the railing he’d been leaning against. “Say again?”

“He asked me to marry him, suggested we raise Kylie together.”

“You’re serious.”

“So was he—even if he didn’t know it. If I’d said yes, he’d be in my bed—house—right now.”

“Not a guy to miss the main chance, right?”

She gave him a clear-eyed, knowing look, and a firsthand view of the fierce intelligence and piercing intuition Holly had told him about. “Yes. Awful, isn’t it?” she said, half smiling. “But, then, people stoop to anything to get what they want. Seduction. Sex. Even marriage. Whatever it takes.” She paused. “I should know.” The last she said more to herself than to him.

“Why am I sensing a subtext here?”

She kept her gaze fixed on him. “I’m not a fool, Dan. And subterfuge isn’t your strong point—which I might add is a point in your favor. I’ve already figured out that the ‘shortest distance between two points’ you mentioned on the plane means you getting Kylie through me.”

Before he could answer—not that he had one—she headed for the door.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, as if she hadn’t just nailed his intentions to the nearest brick wall. “I’ve got work to do before Kylie and I leave for the recreation center. So if you want to visit with her, now’s the time.” When she was at the door, she turned back, gave him a speculative gaze. “Actually, you and I—and Kylie—as a team against the Grantman fortune isn’t such a bad idea. But I’ve already married once for the wrong reasons. I don’t intend to do it again.”

“I don’t remember mentioning marriage,” he said, sounding as dry and stiff as a dusty old book.

She made a soft huff. “Considering it’s definitely that ‘shortest distance’ you mentioned on the plane, I’d say that as a concept, it crossed your mind.” She cocked a brow, waited.

He considered his answer. “A lot of things crossed my mind when I met you, Camryn. Most of them inappropriate, considering the situation we were both dealing with.”

“Excellent non-answer,” she said, “which means we’ll need to talk later. We have to clear the air between us—for Kylie’s sake.” She stopped, seemed to think. “Actually, there’s something else we should do.” She straightened as if an idea had suddenly shaped to the right form. “Come for dinner tonight. Afterward, we’ll go over to Gina’s place. It’s time you met Adam face to face.” She smiled, a smile tinged with wickedness. “Like I told you, he doesn’t like complications, and as ‘complications’ go, you’re grade A.”

She walked into the house.

Dan watched her go, wondered when the sobbing woman who’d hugged him in the church had morphed into a one-woman assault brigade without his noticing. And a woman who laid all her cards on the table.

His kind of woman.

She’d seen through him as if his innards were wrapped in cellophane. And she wasn’t above using him in her game with Dunn. He smiled. Seemed it was a day for underestimating. Plus, she was right, he should meet Dunn.

All he had to do was keep himself from killing the bastard when he did.

Gina opened Adam’s bedroom door for about the hundredth time. It was well after lunch. He was there—finally!—lolling on the bed with a magazine. Relief nearly brought her to her knees.

“Where have you been?” Her voice was higher than she would have liked, and the intensity of her feelings at seeing him back where he belonged was too strong for her tired and confused mind. She hadn’t slept since he’d arrived, her brain in a constant frenzy of sex-dreams, love-dreams, and terror that he’d leave her.

She swallowed, stared at him. This morning, when she’d come to his room and discovered him gone, that terror had come alive.

She’d thought he’d left. Dear God, she’d thought he’d left her . . . again.

He tossed the magazine aside and sat on the edge of the bed. “I went for a run.”

He wasn’t lying; running shorts and a tee were on the floor at his feet. “I told you to stay here.”

“I needed some air, baby. This place is making me crazy.”

“Where? Where did you go for a run?”

“The lake path.”

“Did anyone see you?”
Did you see anyone?
Gina didn’t want that. Gina wanted him safe, close, and exclusive. She didn’t want other women looking at him, wanting him. She couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust Adam . . . She was suddenly hot, and her vision blurred.
I have to keep him here for me. Only for me.

He shrugged, dropped his glance. “A couple of other runners.” He got up from the bed. “Now you’re here, I’m going to take a shower.” He grinned at her, his even, white teeth a bright flash in the shadow of his unshaven jaw. “I was waiting for you. Hoping you’d help.” He started to strip off his jeans.

Gina’s lungs stilled, overwhelmed by the sound of his zipper going slowly down. Its metallic scrape filled the room—a hundred-piece orchestra playing the opening prelude for what she craved. She hadn’t dressed this morning—too rattled by Adam’s absence—so she was still wearing her robe and nightgown. No panties. Nothing to stop the warm rush between her legs. She tightened them. It was a sin, a sickness to want a man this much. To be ready, always ready—and needing his touch the way a newborn needed its mother’s breast.

She was ill . . . she was very, very ill. And the only time she felt right was when she was with Adam. “Promise me you won’t go out again,” she pleaded.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here until we get things sorted out on the custody thing.” He gave her a stunning gaze, his eyes hot and narrowed. “Anything yet?”

He was talking about Kylie. Jesus, when he got Kylie he’d be gone. She was sure of it. “I’ve got some ideas.” She lied. In some ways Adam was such a fool. He couldn’t see there was no incentive for Gina to settle his affairs. She did that, he’d be gone. And this time she wasn’t going to let him go. Ever.

Adam pulled his sleeveless tee over his head, tossed it on the bed. “That’s good,” he said. “I knew you’d come through.” He stopped, put his hands on his hips. “Actually, I’ve got an idea or two of my own. That run did a lot to clear my head.”

Avid, Gina drank him in—no sucked him in: his tan chest with its fine dusting of hair, his open zipper. He was wearing black underwear. She liked black underwear. She liked all of Adam’s underwear. But she liked what was under it even more.

He watched her watch him, but she couldn’t stop what was in her eyes. When she raised her eyes from the bulge in his pants, he gave her a knowing gaze. “Poor baby,” he said, putting his hand out and making a come-here signal with his fingers. “You look as hot for me as I am for you.”

She touched herself, couldn’t help it. “I’m wet. I look at you and I get wet.” She walked to him, put her arms around him, and hugged him hard and close. “I love you, Adam. I’m crazy with it.” And that’s what she was—crazy, mad, and utterly insane to love this terrible, seductive man. She started to cry, didn’t want to lift her head, let him see the depth and despair of her need. “I don’t want you to leave. Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

“I promise.”

“You have to love me, Adam . . . a little.” She was begging and she didn’t care. She had to hear it. Had to believe it.

He stroked her hair, kissed her head, and held her close. “I love you, baby. You know I do.”

Liar.
“Do you, Adam? Do you really?” She wanted to hear the lie again.

He surged against her, his hardened penis jutting into her softness. “Sure I do. Can’t you tell?” He pushed against her again, and her breathing stopped. “And it’s a lot more than us being sensational in bed. You’re special to me, Gina. You have to believe that. Leaving you was the worst thing I ever did.”