Secrets and Seduction: 5 Romance Novels (63 page)

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Next Bryce called Paul Ziko.

“Bryce, where the hell have you been?” Paul yelled. “We’ve been worried sick. Are you in protective custody?”

“Hiding out, actually. Listen, I need to leave an envelope with you for safekeeping. Can I bring it by in about forty minutes?”

“Sure. You know you don’t have to ask.”

“Don’t tell anyone you talked to me.”

“Roger and Sean deserve to know. And Christian.”

“Fine, but wait until I get there.”

Bryce waited thirty minutes before he called Steele. When he was put through to the mobster, Steele’s voice was glacial.

“I’m wondering where you disappeared to and whose company you’ve been keeping the past forty-eight hours.”

Bryce realized he was relieved Ciara wasn’t Steele’s pipeline. His heartache lessened. “I watched your man die and that poor woman burn to death. I couldn’t risk anyone else’s life. I just needed to get away. I’m on my way home now. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“You haven’t used your credit card this weekend.”

“Cash still spends in this world. I called to say I’m ready for trial.”

There was a momentary pause. “I’d wondered that too. I’m glad you honor your commitments. I’ll send security to your house.”

“I’d rather not see anyone else killed.”

“Mr. Durayev’s job was to keep you alive. He did that. His death was unfortunate.”

Bryce sighed. He’d known it wasn’t any use to argue. “I’ll see you in court tomorrow.”

The die was cast. Bryce hoped Steele handpicked whomever he sent. There’d been enough attempts to kill Bryce that Steele had to wonder who was behind them.

Bryce drove to Paul’s apartment in Royal Oak, not too far from his own house. Paul dragged him inside and hugged him hard. Bryce gripped his friend hard in return.

“Damn it, Bryce. Give up this case. It’s not worth your life!” Paul said with a strained voice.

Bryce held his friend at arm’s length. Paul rarely smiled since the divorce proceedings began. His dark eyes were full of sadness. Did Bryce look like that now? He sure felt like it.

“I have to do this, Paul, for more reasons than you’ll understand or I have time to explain. When it’s over I’ll tell you everything.” He let Paul go, although he hated to. It was such a relief to be with someone he could trust implicitly. But he couldn’t unburden on Paul now.

Looking past Paul, Bryce noted the children’s toys on the floor. “Your kids were here?”

“
Are
here,” Paul said with satisfaction. “They’re spending the night. As much as I miss Pam, I think I miss them more.” Paul’s eyes darkened with despair and other gloomy emotions. “She was the best thing in my life and I threw it away.”

Paul had had it all, everything Bryce wanted, and it hadn’t been enough. Some men didn’t know when they had it made. Now Paul did. And, after this weekend, so did Bryce.

Bryce handed the manila envelope to Paul. “I want you to put this someplace safe. If anything happens to me, I’ve written a phone number and names on it. You’re to call them. They’re FBI.”

Paul gripped Bryce’s arms. “If you’re in danger, why not let the FBI protect you?”

“It’s complicated. Promise me you’ll call them if anything happens to me.”

“Damn it, Bryce!” Paul’s face twisted. “I promise.”

“Good. Don’t tell anyone about the package.
Anyone
. I have to go.”

“You can stay here where it’s safe,” Paul protested.

“I can’t, but we’ll get together soon and I’ll tell you everything.” Bryce prayed it would be so.

As he drove home his muscles tensed. A new bodyguard would be waiting for him. Bryce was sure if the man were a traitor he wouldn’t just shoot Bryce on sight. That would tell Steele immediately who the traitor was. No, it would be something subtler, something indirect.

Bryce saw the dark sedan parked in front of his house when he drove up. The man inside nodded to him and Bryce relaxed a little. He’d been so focused on the bodyguard issue he hadn’t thought about the bomber still out there, that it could be anyone.

As he pulled up to the garage, his new bodyguard appeared at his car window. Bryce rolled it down.

“I’m Smith. Mr. Steele sent me.” He had short brown hair, brown eyes, and was of medium height and medium build. He had nondescript nailed.

“Thanks for coming. I appreciate Mr. Steele doing this for me.”

“I’ve swept the grounds and found nothing suspicious. I waited for your arrival to check the house.” Meaning he could easily have gotten in without a key. “I’d like you to wait in the car with the doors locked while I go inside.”

After a tense ten minutes, Smith rapped on the car window and nearly gave Bryce a heart attack. Bryce took several deep breaths as he rolled down the window again.

“All clear. Put the car in the garage. I’ll sweep it tomorrow before we leave.”

Bryce did as he was told, then carried the first load into the house. Smith followed him, keeping alert, but making no sound when he moved. Inside the door Bryce switched on the inside and outside lights. He felt twitchy, as though the bomber lurked in the shadows or a bomb could be connected to any switch, despite Smith’s assertions the place was clear.

By the time Bryce unloaded the car and locked the garage, it was fully dark outside. There was another twelve hours until Steele’s trial began. Bryce needed rest but his muscles were so tense he was sure he couldn’t fall asleep. He took a long, hot shower, washing off Ciara’s scent, and tried to blank his mind. He’d never see her again. Her spying job was finished. He was once again the uncontested king of his house and his office.

Damn it, in two short days he’d gotten used to showering with someone else, to having Ciara wash his back and his intimate parts, to washing all her delectable parts, to the shower being a sexual place.

He had a damn hard-on again for a woman who’d betrayed him. How sick was that? Sure, she didn’t work for Steele. That was some measure of relief. But she’d still spied on Bryce thinking he was corrupt. She’d lied to him. He’d never had casual sex, couldn’t bring himself to, not with his trust issues. So why did he still want Ciara, knowing she didn’t want him in return? He was a job to her.

Bryce turned off the water and leaned his hands against the tiles, letting his head hang down between them. A woman could fake orgasm, but Ciara hadn’t. He’d felt her inner muscles milking him nearly a dozen times. A professional hooker might be able to force herself to have that many orgasms with a man who was just a job, but could a woman who worked for the Attorney General? If Ciara had been a woman who slept around, Bryce could see the AG choosing her to seduce him, but she had seemed like an old-fashioned girl — she certainly came from an old-fashioned family.

So what did it mean that her breasts peaked with arousal when he was near, that she was wet for him whenever he touched between her legs, that she kissed him like she was starving, that she rode him like she was desperate to be one with him?

God, did she really want him? It couldn’t be true. He was her assignment. But nobody’s body could lie that well, not for two whole days. Hope flooded painfully into his heart.

So she wanted him, so what? Her job was done. Did he think she’d drive to Detroit to … what? Give him regular sex? He shook his head and climbed out of the shower. He didn’t think that at all. She wasn’t that kind of woman.

Bryce scoffed and dried himself off. He had no idea what kind of woman Ciara was, what she would or wouldn’t do.

He paused naked beside his perfectly made bed, such a contrast to how he’d left the bed at Ciara’s house, and knew his last thought wasn’t true. He knew a lot about Ciara. She loved her family. She donated time to teen basketball. She worked for a public agency whose purpose was to right consumer wrongs. She took pains with her appearance, she kept healthy and active, she didn’t smoke or drink, rarely swore, and she was his perfect match in bed. She was his perfect match period.

Bryce didn’t think he could lie in his bed alone and get any sleep, even though they’d never made love here. He knew the ache in his chest wouldn’t go away nor the ache in his body.

There was no use thinking about Ciara. He couldn’t do anything about their mutual attraction until the Steele case was over and it might drag on for months. By then it might be too late to find out if she returned his feelings. She might have found someone else.

His mood souring further, Bryce threw on shorts and a University of Michigan T-shirt and headed barefoot to his office. Until he got tired enough to sleep — if he did — he had a trial to prepare for. Work had been his passion before Ciara; it would have to suffice once more.

Security at the courthouse was virgin tight. Bryce had to pass through the metal detector and the x-ray machine at the main entrance plus the cops had handheld metal detectors at the courtroom doors. Smith remained vigilant, despite visible security measures. He wasn’t armed, but Bryce had no doubt Smith knew numerous methods of lethal force.

As early as Bryce arrived, eager spectators and reporters had beaten him there. He ignored them and headed for the defense table. Smith sat directly behind him in the gallery. Bryce laid out his files and re-read his notes.

He felt hyperaware. He’d finally fallen asleep around three and gotten three hours of sleep. Two cups of coffee hadn’t been enough, but he hadn’t wanted to be jittery. The empty second chair mocked him. That’s where Ciara would have sat. But the AG’s underling couldn’t defend a mobster. Bryce wondered what she would have done if he hadn’t found out the truth. He was surprised she’d helped him at all, knowing who she really was. Not just helped, but succeeded in building a defense.

Had Bryce known who she really was, they could have worked together, not at cross-purposes. Another regret to file away for later.

Five minutes before nine Steele arrived, surrounded by news cameras and his big bodyguard. The courtroom was packed and noisy. Bryce rose to greet his client.

“Mr. Steele.”

“Mr. Gannon. Ready to acquit me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Where’s your lovely assistant?”

“You know I try cases alone.”

As Steele settled into his seat, his bodyguard sat beside Smith.

At nine the bailiff announced, “All rise. Court is now in session. The honorable Andy Garcia presiding.”

Judge Garcia strode in wearing his black robe and took his seat. As Bryce sat back down, he saw a flash of red in his peripheral vision. Turning slightly, he spotted Ciara wearing a black V-neck knit top and a multi strand red necklace and matching earrings with her hair pulled up and back. Her loveliness struck him breathless and made his heart pound. She met his eyes for an endless moment, but he couldn’t read them. The desire to be near her roared through his veins; it made him ache. He batted it down, fighting to focus as the judge prompted the U.S. Attorney to give his opening statement. Why was she here?

“The government will prove that Adam Steele is guilty of racketeering under the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, having committed fifteen federal crimes over the past three years including protection schemes, fraud, money laundering, extortion, and dealing in controlled substances. The government will prove each count in the indictment that Adam Steele has a pattern of racketeering. We will provide witnesses and testimony documenting his crimes and showing beyond a shadow of a doubt his lack of conscience, his lack of rectitude and his disdain of the laws of the United States.”

As the U.S. Attorney droned on, Ciara again drew Bryce’s gaze. He’d felt dead and alone without her. Now just her presence made him feel alive again. Had Baisden sent her? Did they still have doubts about him?

His gaze jerked to the front again as the bailiff handed Judge Garcia a note.

When Garcia’s dark gaze met his, Bryce’s whole body went cold.
Oh shit
.

Garcia leaned into the microphone. “I’m sorry, Counselor. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s been a bomb threat — ”

Several women screamed.

“Please exit the courthouse as swiftly as possible … ” People rising and stampeding to the door drowned out the rest of his words.

Bryce quickly began to scoop his files and papers into his briefcase. He tried to maintain a calm facade while inside his mind was screaming for him to move. His pulse was a runaway train.

Smith came to his side. “Mr. Gannon, we need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving these behind. It’s Mr. Steele’s defense.” With a quick glance around he noted that Steele and his bodyguard had already left.

“Bryce, get out of here!” Ciara yelled from behind him.

His pulse leaped into his throat. She was in danger! He jammed the last bunch of files in the briefcase and swung into the gallery. Smith kept pace with him. They were the last people in line.

Bryce spotted Ciara outside the courtroom, but as he took a step towards her, arms roughly grabbed him and pulled. He jerked around ready to fight, only to face agents Pollack and Garrison.

“Move!” Garrison ordered. “You’re exposed here.”

Smith suddenly had a gun in his hand pointed at Garrison.

“FBI, dickhead,” Pollack snarled flashing his badge. “Back off.”

Garrison levered his gun at Smith.

Smith’s cold eyes flickered, and then he lowered his gun.

Garrison kept his gun pointed at Smith. “You can report to Steele that Mr. Gannon is in our safekeeping until the bomb squad reports an all clear.”

Smith backed away. “Mr. Steele won’t like it. I’ll be here when court resumes.”

Bryce desperately searched for Ciara, but she was gone. The two Feds pulled him down a flight of stairs and out a side entrance to an unmarked white van, covering him with their bodies.

As they piled in, Pollack yelled, “Go!”

The van’s tires squealed as it sped off.

“I’m glad to see you two,” Bryce gasped.

“We assumed there’d be trouble and made a contingency plan,” Pollack explained.

“Smart man. Where are we going?”

“Not far but someplace safe.”

Minutes later, after much turning and backtracking, the van pulled up to a multi-story downtown apartment building.