“I know this little Italian restaurant twenty minutes from here that has chicken Marsala that melts in your mouth. And the chocolate torte for dessert — ”
“I see the truth now. The chicken probably tastes like rubber. You want the chocolate.”
“Of course.”
He squeezed her tight. “We have so little time left together.”
“We have all night, Bryce.”
“Part of the night. We should start back around four
A.M.
”
“We have enough time. And I can stay at your house.”
Bryce held her at arm’s length. “No. Steele’s bodyguard will be there. I don’t want him to know.”
She frowned. “What does it matter?”
“It matters.”
Ciara held him tight and one thing led to another. They headed for dinner several hours later wearing casual clothes.
The chicken Marsala was just as delicious as Ciara had said it was. Bryce plied her with a glass of wine to get her to relax. She seemed overly bright and a little brittle. Maybe he shouldn’t have refused to let her stay the night at his house. But he’d wanted more time before Steele found out they were lovers.
They shared the chocolate torte and got a little messy feeding each other. Bryce thought of wicked things they could do with this dessert and two naked, hungry bodies. He filed the thought away for the future. Then he was startled that he thought he’d ever come back to Lansing, and with Ciara. Was he hoping for something long-term with her? Since everything depended on the Steele trial, he shook off the thought.
Bryce excused himself to wash up and when he returned he found a tall, dark-haired man speaking to Ciara.
“Are you through with the assignment then? Is Gannon corrupt or not?”
“Mr. Baisden, I — ”
Bryce moved into Ciara’s line of sight and she flushed guiltily and stopped speaking.
Baisden, the Attorney General. She was reporting to the AG on
him
. Betrayal punched Bryce in the gut.
Ciara had betrayed Bryce’s trust. She was a liar and a deceiver. And here was irrefutable evidence. Bryce felt hot and then cold, and pain radiated from the region of his heart.
The attorney general turned, following Ciara’s gaze to Bryce. “Gannon. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.” He didn’t look the least bit guilty.
Bryce glanced from Baisden to Ciara and an awful realization hit him. Anger made his skin flush with heat.
“When was that?”
“When you were in the ICU.”
When he was at his most vulnerable. His fists clenched. “And that’s when you sent your spy to me.” Ciara gasped and Bryce glared at her. “I knew you were a spy, but I thought you were Steele’s.”
“Steele’s! Why would you think that?”
“You showed up within hours of him telling me I couldn’t refuse his case, that he had eyes everywhere. And then there you were. Just someone else to betray me. Those UM frat boys could take lessons from you.” His bitter, angry tone amazed him. Where was his cold detachment?
“Bryce, I was going to tell you the truth.”
Bryce ignored that, addressing the AG instead. “And Baisden, I thought you were corrupt because she was.”
“Hardly,” Baisden scoffed.
“Well, Ciara, if you don’t know the answer to the AG’s question, you don’t know me at all.”
“But you’re defending Adam Steele.”
“He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” Bryce had never felt so cold inside, not even when he realized the truth about the frat boys.
He strode to the other side of the table and held out his hand to Ciara. “If you have a spare key, I’ll clear out my stuff and get out of your life.”
“Bryce, you can’t go back to Detroit now. They’ll kill you.”
“They can try. Do you have a spare key or not?”
Ciara stood. “I’ll drive you.”
“Don’t bother. I’m sure you and your real boss have things to discuss. I see why you wanted to come here tonight.”
Ciara’s face reddened. “That wasn’t the reason.”
“Make sure you tell him you slept with me as ordered.”
Ciara jerked and said stonily, “That was spiteful. You owe me an apology.”
Bryce felt a spurt of guilt. They’d shared a beautiful weekend together. Then he remembered
he
was the one who’d been betrayed. “I believe it’s the other way around. Who spied on whom? Who lied to whom?” The words echoed eerily.
“I ordered her to,” Baisden interjected. “I have to protect the public.”
Bryce gave the AG his coldest stare. “The end justifies the means?”
“In this case, yes.”
“It’s difficult to tell the alleged good guys from the bad when you both use the same dirty tactics.”
Ciara gasped. Baisden frowned at Bryce. Bryce continued to hold out his hand.
She handed Bryce her keys. “Take my car. I’ll get a cab home.”
Bryce wanted to refuse, but the quicker he got away from Ciara the better. He felt his chest tightening with a stress-triggered asthma attack. “I’ll leave the keys inside the back door.”
“You can drive it to Detroit.”
“I wouldn’t want the bomber to blow up your car. I’ll find another way home.”
Bryce pivoted and left them behind, his lover and her puppet master. He climbed behind the wheel of her Camry, used his inhaler and then carefully headed back to her house. Thank God he’d paid attention on the drive here. The unfamiliarity of the city required all his concentration, so ruthlessly he shoved away what had happened in the restaurant.
After parking in her garage, Bryce called Enterprise Rent-A-Car, who promised to deliver a car within thirty minutes. He gathered all the Steele files and carried the box to the front door. Then he went in the bedroom and packed. The room smelled strongly of sex, the bed was wrecked, the pillows dented by two heads close together. The pain in his chest felt like a gaping wound.
Bryce forced himself to look away, to go in the bathroom and gather his things. His toiletries had become mixed with hers, his razor and comb in her medicine cabinet. He struggled with his breathing, fighting off another attack.
His gaze fell on the box of condoms in the medicine cabinet. His fists clenched. He hoped Ciara hadn’t lied about being on the pill because they hadn’t used any other protection since yesterday. He hadn’t wanted anything between his skin and hers after the first time they made love that way.
He’d been an all-around fool.
By the time the rented Ford Fusion drove into the driveway, Bryce had double checked Ciara’s house to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. His chest tightened painfully as he looked around the condo, his hand on the doorknob. The truth that she lived
here
, not in Detroit, had stared him right in the face, but he’d ignored his instincts and let lust blind him.
He’d proven once again his feelings couldn’t be trusted. Bryce opened the door and crossed the threshold. After he loaded the car, he left Ciara’s keys between the two doors. He dropped the Enterprise driver off and began the trek to Detroit. As he accelerated onto the freeway and engaged the cruise control, he gave his feelings free reign: anger, betrayal, hurt, fear, loss. His stomach knotted, his throat tightened and the road blurred before his eyes. This was worse than the hazing. Yes, those young men had pretended to be his friends, but they hadn’t slept with him.
They hadn’t made him fall in love with them.
Bryce knew it was true. Despite all his reservations about Ciara — well founded after all — he’d grown to like and trust her enough to sleep with her. And he’d fallen in love with her. She’d led him there. She’d studied him while he lay unconscious in the ICU. She’d had days to learn about him before she came to him in the hospital. And she’d done her homework well. He hadn’t even known he had wants and needs like those she’d unearthed. She’d played him as only one who knew someone well could.
Damn, damn, and damn. He nearly crushed the steering wheel in his bruising grip.
He’d finally found that elusive emotion after all these years, only to have it snatched away from him because the woman didn’t love him in return.
Bryce was going home to his empty house, his empty life, his empty bed, and tomorrow he had to go into court alone. She’d ruined his perfectly ordered life, damn her.
• • •
“So that was the ruthless Bryce Gannon. He didn’t seem so cold and dispassionate,” Baisden remarked after Bryce left. “He sounded like a lover scorned.”
As he turned back to her, Ciara tried to control her face, but his raised eyebrows and knowing look said she’d failed.
“You slept with him.”
Ciara nodded, her cheeks burning.
He studied her. “Not as part of your investigation though.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” She swallowed. “I think I’m in love with him.”
“From that scene, I’d say he thought he was in love with you too.”
“‘Was’ being the operative word,” Ciara said, her tone unwontedly bitter. Her stomach twisted, upsetting her dinner. She should have confessed to Bryce yesterday. Now it was too late.
“Why don’t we sit down? You can debrief while I’m here.”
Baisden took Bryce’s seat and Ciara sat back down. Baisden called his wife to say he’d need longer to pick up dinner and he’d explain when he got home.
“Now,” he settled back in his chair. “Tell me about Bryce Gannon. You knew him well enough to become intimate with him.”
What did Ciara know about Bryce? He was hardworking nearly to the point of being a workaholic because he wanted to win so badly. He had expensive tastes but he didn’t live an ostentatious life. He had a core group of friends, but kept employees and everyone else at arm’s length. He seemed lonely, but she couldn’t explain exactly why she felt that way except what he’d said yesterday about being half alive.
Bryce hated weakness and vulnerability. He hated to be pitied. He’d kept himself healthy and active. He was meticulous. He didn’t like showing emotion. He’d perfected the cold brush-off and the ‘I don’t care’ exterior. He had a deep core of passion he kept under ruthless control but couldn’t seem to control around her.
He made love to her like a man desperate to mate, to make her want him with the same unceasing need. He was a generous lover but he also consumed. She didn’t tell that part to her boss, but she was sure her furiously blushing face told its own story.
Ciara told Baisden everything that had happened in the past few days. She told him about Bryce’s judicial aspirations and the bombing Friday night.
And then she remembered, “He thought I was Steele’s spy!” Her breath caught.
“That’s some intuition he has to know you were a spy.”
And still he’d slept with her, as though he couldn’t help it. As though some part of him sensed he could trust some part of her.
“That’s the answer!” Ciara exclaimed. Her heart pounded with excitement. “He’s not corrupt. A corrupt man wouldn’t think the man he was defending would have to spy on him.”
“He said he’d tried to refuse the case,” Baisden recalled. “But Steele called him in the hospital and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“Like something bad would happen to him there, and Bryce barely able to walk.”
Baisden frowned. “A man who bows to threats isn’t an asset on the bench.”
“We don’t know what the threat was.”
“It doesn’t make a difference what it was. Adam Steele knows he can bend Gannon to his will, so Gannon won’t be any good as a judge.”
Ciara knew the AG was wrong, but she didn’t know why. “Bryce is fiercely independent. He’s never worked with anyone his equal. He doesn’t like being told what to do. Pretend you’re him and you’ve just been forced to take a case you don’t want to take. What would you do?”
Baisden’s eyes narrowed. “He caved.”
“I think he pretended to cave. Remember, he thought I worked for Steele, that I reported everything he did to Steele.” Ciara’s mind slowly turned over those words. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “My God, he thought he was being watched every day. Then when Steele sent him security, he thought he was being observed twenty-four seven. He didn’t trust me, the police, the Feds, or his security, and his friends have their own troubles. He couldn’t ask anyone for help and he couldn’t do much physically. What would you do in his position?”
“Are you suggesting he had a hidden agenda? That while dodging bombs, spies and traitors Gannon made and possibly executed a plan against Adam Steele? I’d say you were dreaming.”
“My gut says that’s what he’s doing.”
“Your gut couldn’t tell me if Gannon was corrupt when I asked you a few minutes ago.”
“I trusted him enough to sleep with him. I haven’t trusted a man like that in a long time.”
Baisden studied her for several long moments. “Bring me proof that he didn’t cave to threats. I need more than a feeling.”
“Bryce won’t let me near the defense, not now. I’ll have to watch the trial from the gallery. I’ll have to drive back to Detroit tonight.”
“I’ll drive you home. Let me place my order so I don’t arrive home late
and
empty handed.”
• • •
Bryce drove southeast towards night. The setting sun proved a perfect corollary to his current situation. An hour out of Detroit he called Agent Pollack.
“It’s Bryce Gannon. ETA Detroit sixty minutes.”
“What happened?” Pollack demanded.
“Not what you think. Miss Alafita works for the Attorney General. He’s investigating me for corruption.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Listen, you know I have to call Steele.”
“You think you have to.”
“I need to know something. If these guys succeed in killing me, will you go after Steele’s organization?”
Pollack hesitated. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t want to die, but if I do, I want it to do some good. Would you pursue Steele’s organization to find the hitter and the person who ordered it?”
“Damn straight.”
Bryce released his breath. “Good. I’ve made some notes. I’m going to swing by Paul Ziko’s apartment and leave them with him just in case.”
“Why not turn the information over to us now? We can help.”
“This is the only way.”
Pollack gave a loud sigh. “You’ll probably see us around the courthouse tomorrow.”