A Killing Kind of Love: A Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense (26 page)

Gina swallowed and pressed a hand to her throat when something sharp and bilious rose from it to coat her mouth—the acrid taste of jealousy. The bitter food of the discarded woman.

Adam turned and faced her. His expression was sober, unsettled. Their eyes met, held, and her stomach fluttered as if a thousand butterflies were testing their wings.

She forced her mind to what had to be done, her next step. He was too quiet, too indecisive. “You wanted my advice on how to solve your problem,” she said. “I’ve given it to you. You could at least comment.”

“Okay, here’s one. I came here looking for legal advice, not a how-to primer for spending the rest of my life rotting in prison.”

“Nobody will go to prison.”

“I’ll bet there’s dozens of guys shuffling along death row who’ve heard that pickup line.”

“There’s no risk. Not if it’s done right.”

He shook his head, but she could see he was thinking, beginning to see her logic. When he started to pace the room, Gina walked to the bureau, opened the bottom drawer, and took out the gun she’d put there earlier. She went back to where Adam now stood beside the rumpled bed and held it out to him. “Take it,” she said.

He looked at the gun as if it were an ingot fresh from the furnace.

“It’s not loaded. Here.” Holding on to the barrel, she offered him the grip. “Take it,” she said again. “See how it feels.” Powerful. Potent. Deadly.

He looked at her hand, at the innocence of the dimpled metal grip, and took the gun.

Yes!

He enclosed the grip in his hand, studied the cold steel, then abruptly tossed it on the bed. He turned back to her. “I’m not a killer, Gina.” he said. “I’m a lot of things, most of which I’ll take hell’s heat for, but killing …” He shook his head. “No.”

She nodded, glanced at the gun on the bed. “All right, then I’ll do it for you.” She met his stormy gaze. “It’s another way for me to prove how much I love you.”

She saw the faint glimmer of acceptance in his eyes, saw how the idea he wouldn’t have to dirty his own hands made the difference. His argument, when it came, carried no passion. “There’s another way,” he said. “There has to be.”

“Shush, darling.” She touched his mouth with her fingertips, then replaced them with her mouth. Pulling away, she said. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything. When it’s done, you’ll have what you want. All the money you’ll ever need.” Again she glanced at the gun on the bed, the gun with his fingerprints on it.

And I’ll have you . . .

Camryn might have been your first, and Holly might have been your second, but I’ll be your forever.

Camryn entered Paul’s spacious study first, holding Kylie’s hand. Dan followed, wishing to hell he was anywhere but here. Right now northern Canada in the dead of winter seemed preferable to this warm, oak-paneled room where Paul Grantman stood in the center of the room, as cool and hard as a carved stone gargoyle.

God, he was going to love this….

“Go see your grandpa, sweetheart,” Camryn said, releasing Kylie’s hand. One thing was sure, by the look of her, Camryn was as reluctant to be here as he was.

She hadn’t been reluctant last night. She’d been hot, willing, a sexual storm in his arms.

His gut tensed. This wasn’t the time to think about last night, whatever the havoc it had wreaked on his “cool” quotient. Later. He’d think about it later—when he had her in his bed again.

Kylie ran to Paul, her enthusiasm undimmed by the tension in the room, and he lifted her in his arms. She hugged him as if he were a god, then took his face in her hands and kissed him square on the mouth. “My grandpa,” she said and put her head on his shoulder. And while Paul got a queer smile on his face, Dan had an irrational stab of jealousy; he shoved it back. The man was Kylie’s grandfather, nothing would change that. Too bad he wouldn’t settle for that without having an ulterior motive.

Paul put his hand on her head, her silky, little-girl hair. “How’s my best sweetheart?” he said. There was a hell of a lot more warmth in his eyes when he looked at Kylie than at any other time.

“I had wuffles,” Kylie announced. “Tent made them. And lots and lots of sirp.”

“Sounds good.” Continuing to stroke her hair, Paul looked over her head to where Dan and Camryn stood, his gaze one big question mark. When Kylie wiggled, he let her down; she went immediately to his desk.

“She’ll make a mess,” Camryn said, but made no move to stave off the coming havoc. She looked amused, as if introducing their pint-sized house-wrecker to Paul’s organized study provided a sliver of comic relief in what was a grim situation.

Paul was quick. “Here, honey. I’ll get you some pencils and paper. Okay?”

When Paul had Kylie settled, busily creating scribbles at his desk with a thousand dollar Mont Blanc pen, he looked at Camryn. “What’s this all about?”

Dan heard Camryn take a deep breath. “I want you to keep Kylie for a few days,” she said.

Paul’s gaze sharpened. Dan could damn well see the wheels turning. “A few days,” he repeated. “Considering I’m on your least-favorite-person list, the question begs to be asked. Why?”

“We’ve had some trouble,” Camryn said. “And we think it’s best Kylie be away from the house until we settle things.”

“There are two key words in that sentence. ‘We’ and ‘trouble.’ “He went behind his desk, again put his hand on Kylie’s head, bent now over her drawing. “I take it the ‘we’ is the two of you.” He looked at Camryn and Dan in turn, but his eyes lingered on Dan. “You sure as hell didn’t waste your time grieving, did you?”

“My grief, my business,” Dan said. What Grantman thought of his reply, he didn’t care. He glanced at Camryn, but her expression was set to cool. If what Paul said troubled her, it didn’t show.

Paul’s expression chilled even more. He went on, “Then let’s get to the ‘trouble’ part of the equation. Particularly as it affects my granddaughter.”

Before either of them could respond, the door opened and Erin walked into the room. Dan eyed her, noted the weariness in her eyes, her pallor. She looked as if she hadn’t slept or wasn’t feeling well. He knew how much Holly had hated her peer-age stepmother. She’d called Erin her “junkie mini-mom.” But his opinion of Erin, since meeting her, was less harsh. She struck him as tragic, both delicate and flawed.

She was extremely beautiful, even in the jeans and outsize tee she wore.

Erin’s glance, accompanied by a quick smile and a “Hello,” immediately flew to Kylie. “Hi, little girl,” she said and held out her arms.

Kylie rounded the desk and did her hug thing. Erin had dropped to her knees to make it easy. His princess loved everyone, it seemed, and would until life taught her caution and how much of that love she could risk.

“Can I take her for a while, Camryn?” Erin asked, her tone soft, somewhat shy. She was still on her knees. “I’ve got some dishes for her and a new doll. They’re in the living room. We can have a tea party.”

Kylie’s eyes widened, and she took Erin’s hand. “Can I, Aunt Cammie? Can I?”

Camryn studied Erin, then glanced at Paul. She seemed reluctant to let Kylie leave her sight. Which, considering why they were here, didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, but Dan understood the feeling.

“Sure, honey,” she finally said. “You go with Erin. Have fun.”

When they were gone, Paul got straight to the business at hand. “What kind of trouble?” He gestured toward the sofa and chairs grouped around a fireplace. They sat.

“Someone shot out my kitchen window last night,” Camryn said.

His gaze went to Dan. “You were there?”

“Yes.”

“And Kylie?”

“She was there, too. Dan was holding her,” Camryn said. “But she’s okay. We’re all okay. One of the bullets scraped Dan’s arm.”

“Your arm? And you were holding my granddaughter?” Paul leaped to his feet. “Jesus,” he said again. “And you have no idea who did it?”

To Dan, the man looked tight as a bow. More so than usual. “No, but Camryn was the target, not Kylie.”

“We don’t know that for certain, Dan.”

“Whoever it was shot three bullets, two of them in your direction. That’s ‘certain’ enough for me,” he said.

Camryn shook a negative. Stubborn woman. “The police think it’s possible it was kids, coming in from the lake, their idea of a prank, but—”

“But? Paul looked at Dan.

“I think it might have been Dunn,” Dan said, seeing no reason not to. “He’s at the Solari house.”

“I know.” Paul’s gaze shot to Camryn.

“You know?” Camryn echoed.

“Delores called me—not a half hour ago.”

“I see.”

“Glad you do, because I sure don’t. I thought I’d seen the last of that lowlife bastard Dunn when he took my check.” He shook his head. “God knows Holly wanted no more to do with him.”

When Camryn glanced his way, Dan said nothing.

“If you know he’s here, then you know what he wants,” she said.

“He wants Kylie.” He paced a few steps. “Or to be more accurate, he wants me to pay him to go away again. But you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Which means you’re in his way.”

Dan had to hand it to him; the man was quick.

“Which does
not
mean he shot out my window.” She stared at each of them in turn. “Adam doing something like that is completely out of character.”

Dan let out a quiet breath; maybe he wasn’t as
up
on Dunn’s
character
as Camryn, but he sure knew a motive when he saw one—and getting Camryn out of the way qualified big time.

Paul wasn’t so quiet. “Perfectly in character, if you ask me.” He got up, went to stand in front of the fireplace. “And while I take care of Kylie, where will you be?”

“The Solaris,” Camryn answered calmly.

“Why would you go there? That’s a hell of a risk. If it was Dunn who shot at you, what’s to stop him from doing it again?

Camryn looked ready to snap, and Dan already knew her answer. “Number one, it wasn’t Adam who did the shooting, and number two, there’ll be five people in the house—a small horde of witnesses—hardly the opportune time to try and kill someone.”

Paul shook his head. “I think it’s crazy.”

“Think whatever you want. All we’re asking is that you take care of Kylie. Will you do that?”

“Of course.” He looked at Dan, his expression flat. “And you go along with this?”

“You look after Kylie. I’ll look after Camryn.” He looked at her, saw her frown. “And until things are sorted out, she’s right, Kylie is safer here.”

“Neither of you is stupid. You know I’ll turn this ridiculous escapade—and your asking me to protect my granddaughter—to my advantage, don’t you?”

Camryn looked him square in the eye. “We know. And to me that’s a much bigger risk than confronting Adam, but Kylie—if you haven’t figured it out yet—comes first.”

He didn’t look cowed, but he did look at her with a new respect. “You’re stubborn, Camryn. I’ll hand you that. Not that it will do you any good.” His gaze whipped between them. “When are you going to the Solari place?” he asked her.

“We’re on our way there now.”

“Hold off until tonight.”

Camryn frowned. Dan asked the obvious question, “Why would we do that?”

“Because,” Paul said, his tone crisp. “Delores will be here shortly after eight, which, by the way, will seriously cut into that ‘horde of witnesses’ you mentioned, Camryn.” When he got no reaction from her, he shook his head, went on. “When Delores called me earlier, it was to tell me she had information for me about Dunn and her daughter,” he said. “You should know what that information is before you head over there.”

“Why would you want to help us?” Camryn asked, not masking her suspicion.

“I don’t particularly. But, as you said, Kylie comes first, so for the next few hours, we’ll be in this together.” He didn’t look as if the thought pleased him, more like he was chewing old leather. “If Adam Dunn had a hand in firing a gun anywhere near my granddaughter, I want to know about it.” He headed for the door, opened it, and stood waiting for them to leave. “You know what they say, information is power, so if I were you, I’d wait for my call.”

Ten minutes later they’d said good-bye to Kylie and were outside the security wall that enclosed Grantman’s lakeside estate.

As Dan cleared the driveway leading from the lake and pulled his Navigator onto the road, Camryn looked over her shoulder at the closed gates.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. And when this is over, we’ll have her back,” Dan said.

She faced front again, then faced him. “You don’t have to ‘look out’ for me, Dan,” she said, echoing the words he’d said to Grantman.

“No, I don’t.”

“And you’ve been using the word ‘we’ quite a lot. You probably shouldn’t get used to it.”

“And you probably should.” He turned at the next corner. “I’m hungry. I spotted a restaurant when we drove in, about a mile from here. You up for some food?”

She nodded. “It will give us a chance to talk . . . settle a few things.”

“That us-we thing?” He smiled at her.

“You think it’s funny,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“I think it’s inevitable. Have since last night.”

She rolled her eyes. “One night of sex and you’re into inevitability. Is that how it happened with Holly?”

“Cheap shot, Bruce.” He’d given a lot more thought to making that mistake than she gave him credit for.

“Maybe. But great sex aside, we definitely have some trust issues to work on.”

“How about you tackle the issues, while I tackle a burger.”

“Food first, communication second. May I be very trite and say that’s just like a man?”

“You may,” he said.

She huffed at his flippant reply and looked out the window.

The restaurant was less than ten minutes away. He found a parking spot, turned off the motor. When he looked at her, she was staring straight ahead, a slight frown creasing her brow. He turned her face to catch her gaze. “Any questions you have, I’ll answer. But before we go any further, you should understand this. I screwed up with Holly, and I’ll regret that—for her sake and mine—for a very long time. But that has nothing to do with what’s going on with us. Another thing, I’m not putting our ‘great sex aside.’ Not for a second. Now . . .” He leaned across her and opened her door. “Can we eat?”