I needed to regain my focus on finding my lost friend. Instead, I was standing in my bedroom with a hard-on. Since when was I that guy?

  Rubbing my hand along the back of my neck, I knew the answer. I’d been that guy since we were teenagers, and I saw her in that bikini at the lake, gazing at me like she'd never seen a man before.

  At eighteen, I was no stranger to female attention. I knew the effect I had on women, but it had never been an issue for me. I was focused on my goals: going to college, becoming a Marine, getting my private investigator’s license.

  That day, for whatever reason, her wide-eyed gaze full of hunger and lust unearthed something primal in me. I turned away fast, surprised and a lot shaken. How could a girl her age make me feel desire? It had never happened before.

  I jumped in the lake and swam away.

  Hell, I stayed far away until I could clear my head, until she was gone.

  Fast forward three years, and she’d only grown more attractive. Sixteen was still too young, and she was a fucking temptress. She clutched me with hungry eyes in that dim-lit hallway.

  Desire painted her cheeks pink, and her nipples pointed beneath the thin material of her black and white dress.

  When her pillow lips parted, my dick grew hard, and I had a searing fantasy of her on her knees… It made me fucking furious. It would ruin everything.

  I’d done my best to avoid her, but her father had died. Hugh asked me for a favor, again, and I was curious. I wanted to know if she still had that strange power over me. Short answer, she did, and when that asshole Victor opened the door and looked at her like a shark on blood, he’s lucky I didn’t grab him by the neck.

  I knew I had to stay away from her, but I wasn’t about to leave her there for some other guy to touch. I was a bastard, but I did what I did. I had her mother send her to the nuns.

  Now she’s in my house, and it’s all still here. My possessiveness is primitive and demanding.

  Why would Hugh do this to me? And where the fuck is he?

  Stripping off my clothes, I needed to shower, to get this tightness off my skin, this arousal out of my dick.

  Standing under the warm water, I closed my eyes and saw her again looking up at me with silver eyes, curious but restrained. My hand slid down to grasp my cock, and I remembered her breasts pressed to my chest.

  I’ve never tasted her full, pink lips. I’d like to taste all of her, turn her around and slide my cock deep into her hot, luscious body.

  Picturing her dark head pressed against my shoulder as my hands explored all of her, the heat between her thighs, her wetness, the soft swell of her full breasts, her hardened nipples. How would she sound when I made her come?

  My hand moved faster, pumping my erection as orgasm raced up my inner thighs, climbing higher into my balls, tightening my muscles. Energy surged through my veins, blanking my mind as I dropped my head back and exploded, exhaling her name with a groan.

  I slid my hand from base to tip while warm jets washed the evidence of my lust down the drain, as my orgasm subsided. I had my release, but it wasn’t the same.

  It will never be the same as sinking into her tight, wet core, having her on my lap or taking her from behind. Is it even a possibility?

  Blinking my eyes open, I catch a glimpse of a dark figure in my peripheral, and I turn my head. She’s standing in my bathroom in tiny shorts that show off her shapely legs, a black tank top that barely covers her round breasts, and her hair is up in a ponytail.

  Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s breathing fast. It’s like that day so long ago when we had our first look at each other. Forbidden fruit.

  “I’m sorry!” Her voice is high, and she spins around, walking away quickly.

  I don’t know what possesses me, but I can’t let her go. I grab the towel, tying it around my waist and stopping her before she escapes my room.

  “What are you doing here?” Even I can hear the raw craving in my voice.

  She won’t meet my eyes, but she’s flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her soft lips part, and I do the most out of character thing. I let go.

  Leaning down, I cover her mouth with mine, forcing her lips apart as my tongue invades to find hers. A whimper scrapes from her throat, and I’m instantly hard again. She grips my shoulders, kissing me back, curling her tongue with mine, and I reach down to lift her soft thigh, wrapping it over my hip. I want to sink my cock inside her. Would she let me?

  Breaking away, I meet her heated gaze. She’s gorgeous with her lips swollen and pink from my kisses, her breasts flattened against my chest. Her expression is hungry, but instead of reaching for more, she pulls away from me.

  I release her at once, and she hurries out the door, leaving me dripping wet in a towel, watching her calves flex as she climbs the stairs in her bare feet, not looking back.

  Closing the door, I rest my head against it, horny and frustrated and pissed at myself. What have I done? I’m supposed to be protecting her, not trying to fuck her.

  I have to fix this.

  Several minutes later, dressed in gray sweats and a dark green henley, I climb the stairs to the second floor. If the lights are off, I’ll leave it until tomorrow. If not, I’ll apologize and ask why she was in my bedroom. She must have needed something, and I’m sure it wasn’t the manhandling I gave her.

  Yellow light glows beneath the door, and I tap softly, hesitating. Perhaps I’ve done enough for one night. No one answers, and I’m almost relieved as I turn to go downstairs.

  I’ve taken one step when the door opens, and her soft voice stops me. “What do you want?”

  Something I should not touch, I think to myself before turning to face her.

  She’s wearing a thick robe over her tank and short shorts and her high ponytail is now down at the nape of her neck. It makes no difference how much she shows or hides. She’s a grown woman, and she’s irresistible to me.

  Clearing my throat, I return to where she’s standing outside the door, holding it closed. “I came to apologize. I wasn’t myself just now.”

  Her silver eyes narrow. “That’s too bad. You were more human just now than you’ve ever been as long as I’ve known you.”

  I’m not sure if she’s teasing me or being serious. She’s not smiling, so I stay the course. “Anyway, I hope you’ll forgive me. Was there something you needed?”

  “Blankets. Hana and I were chilly, and the thin quilts on these beds aren’t cutting it.”

  Nodding, I motion for her to follow me to the end of the hall where a narrow closet is located. “I think everything is in here.”

  Sure enough when I open the door, a chenille blanket falls on my head. “Pepper,” I grumble, taking the blanket and folding it properly, putting it on the shelf where it belongs.

  A sniff behind me tells me she’s laughing, and my shoulders relax. “My niece is a true eleven-year-old, always half-doing shit.”

  “She’s adorable.” Blake walks to where I stand in front of the closet. “How long have you had her?”

  “Judy died… almost eighteen months ago.” Funny how the pinch in my chest never gets softer when I remember my sister. “Ovarian cancer. We had time to prepare, but…”

  “I’m so sorry.” She puts her hand on my arm, and I almost forget she’s a jaded New York party girl.

  Standing in the hall of my old family home with her this way is messing with my head. I’m serious, focused on my work, and having her here is way too distracting.

  Lowering my arm, I move away. “If that’s all you need, I’ll head down and let you rest.”

  “Actually…” She steps forward and returns the blankets to the closet. “Hana is asleep, and I have questions. Can we talk now or are you tired?”

  “It’s only ten. We shut things down early because Pepper has school, but I’m usually up for a few more hours.”

  “Is there somewhere we can go?”

  I lead her down the stairs and out one of the doors lining the large living room to the wrap-around porch. It’s a cool night, but not too cold for me to need a coat.

  I glance at her thick robe and arch an eyebrow. “Do you need a jacket?”

  “I’m good.” Her hand is at the neck of her robe, and she holds it closed as she looks out into the dark night.

  Purple wisteria is blooming, clusters of petals like grapes dropping from the eaves in a curtain. The landscapers installed lights to illuminate the massive live oaks at night. It all gives the place an almost mystical appearance.

  “I remember this so well,” she sighs.

  Going to the porch railing, I sit with my back to a column. “What’s on your mind?”

  Gray-blue eyes meet mine, and she blinks a few times as if she’s choosing her words. “Do you have any idea what happened to my uncle? Any leads? When’s the last time you talked to him?”

  Unease tightens my stomach. “I saw him yesterday. Something was on his mind, but he didn’t tell me what.” I hate giving clients bad news, but I decide to be straight with her. “I don’t have a clue. He asked me to be sure you and Hana came here. He wanted you out of the city, and he asked me to protect you.”

  Her slim brows furrow. “He didn’t say why?”

  “No. All I know is he was worried about your safety.”

  “Not much to go on.” She puts her hands on the rail near where I’m standing.

  “I’ve been going through his recent contacts.” I hesitate, wondering if she’ll return the favor and be straight with me. “How much do you know about Victor Petrova?”

  Taking a step back, her eyes flare before she smiles. “What did he tell you?”

  “Not as much as you just did.”

  Her smile is tight with anger. “I thought you didn’t like playing games.”

  “I don’t. This is all too real, and you have to trust me if I’m going to honor your uncle's request. I need the whole story.”

  “Maybe I don’t want your protection.”

  “Maybe that’s not your call to make.”

  She starts for the door, but I step between her and escape. Her jaw sets, and that defiance fires in her eyes. It burns hot in my stomach.

  “I’m not interested in kissing you, Mr. Winston. I don’t even particularly like you.”

  Dropping my chin, I exhale a laugh. “Is that so? Why don’t you like me?”

  “You’re an overbearing jerk who tries to run other people’s lives.”

  “Is this about your little trip to boarding school? You were spiraling, Blake. Anyone who cared would see it.”

  “You interfered in a situation that was none of your business.”

  I want to say she is my business, but I don’t. “I helped you.”

  “Are you trying to pretend you cared? Someone who cared would have asked me what I was going through, how it felt to have my father die and my family retreat to their own personal vices. You simply ordered my mother to send me away, and she was all too ready to get me out of her hair.”

  “Your mother drinks her lunch from a bottle and was ready to give me a lap dance while I was standing up.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” She’s standing right in front of me hurt and anger blazing in her eyes, and fuck it, I want to kiss her again.

  Now that I’ve tasted her, I can’t get enough. I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her I’ll take care of her, lean on me. Instead, I fall back on my training.

  I take a beat and inhale, exhale.

  Studying her angry face, the lines in her forehead, I notice a thin, white scar above her left eyebrow. “What happened there?”

  “Victor Petrova happened. Thanks to you, my father’s estate lost thousands before he was exposed, not to mention the abuse he inflicted on my sister.”

  “He was embezzling money from your family’s estate?” Stepping to the side, I rub my hand over my chin. That would explain a lot about Hugh’s behavior lately.

  “When I threatened to expose him, he slapped me across the room into the fireplace. I came to and discovered he was long gone, and my mother couldn’t be bothered.”

  “He did that to you?” Fury clouds my vision. “Where is he now?”

  “Nobody knows. He got what he wanted from us and disappeared back into the hole he crawled out of.”

  “I’ll find him, and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.” If I don’t kill him first.

  Her eyebrow arches. “Now you’re a hero? At my mother’s apartment, you refused that title.”

  “I’ve learned life is a little more nuanced than I once thought.”

  “Nuanced? How does a homicide detective accommodate nuance in the search for justice? It sounds like letting people off with a warning.”

  “Nuance and justice are not opposites. I’m a private investigator with a focus on homicide, there’s a difference. I have a victim, and it’s up to me to find the perp and bring him or her to justice.”

  “So you’re the Dark Knight? He ended up not being so heroic, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t know about fictional characters. I live in the real world, and it’s time you did the same.”

  She pulls her robe tighter and attempts to pass me. “Why didn’t you help me?”

  Reaching out, I stop her by the shoulders. “I helped you the only way I could in the middle of active duty. I got you out of a bad situation.”

  “You left Hana alone and exposed.” She pulls away from my grasp, turning her back to me. “As a Marine, you should know not to leave a man behind.”

  “My choice was helping you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help.”

  “Didn’t you?” That night is vivid in my memory. “I remember you getting very close and personal.”

  She shakes her head. “You were offended. Or disgusted.”

  “I was twenty-one, and you were sixteen. I was smart.”

  “What are you now?” Her chin lifts, and she looks up at me.

  My eyes slide from her full lips down her neck to her full breasts. The beautiful girl is now a gorgeous woman, and I want her so much. Only, there’s too much anger between us. I don’t like it, so I give her space.

  “Now I’m tired. We should get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

  6

  Blake

  “Remember when we would slide down it?” Hana stands at the foot of the grand staircase in Uncle Hugh’s estate, our family home, running her hand down the wide railing.

  “You were the only one small enough to slide down the banister. It hurt my hoo-hoo.”

  Dirk gave us permission to come today and look for clues. After a fitful night of not sleeping, fighting all my twisted emotions, I finally drifted off at dawn. Hana always sleeps until noon, but it was a first for me. Dirk was at the house when I ventured downstairs in search of coffee, and he assured me the place had been swept by their team.

  Actually, he encouraged me to come here and see if I could find anything unusual, missing, or new–anything I didn’t recognize. Norris led me to this office.

  “If I can get you anything, Miss Blake, or if you have any questions, please ask.” The old butler had been so distraught. “We need to get your uncle back.”

  “I agree.” I smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, and he left us alone.

  Now I’m hesitating at the door while my sister lifts her old-school Canon EOS camera to her eye and snaps a photo of the grand entryway. “Are you planning to document the house?”

  “For starters.” Rapid clicks fill the silence. “It’s amazing.”

  I look up at the tall ceiling surrounded by the large, rectangular, second-floor balcony. Uncle Hugh’s home is more like a castle with dark, polished-wood paneling and ornate brass fixtures. It reminds me of something out of a classic Hollywood film, where the women wore beaded gowns all day and the men wore suits and fedoras.

  “Is that a kitten?” Hana takes off towards the back hall, and I exhale a sigh, going into my uncle’s pristine office.

  Everything that happened between Hutch and me last night presses on my mind. I’ve hated him so much and so long for what he did, for meddling in something that didn’t involve him, only to find out now his motive was personal.

  All I saw was the threat from Victor to my family.

  All he saw was the threat from Victor to me.

  He did what he did to keep me safe. He never considered I would never choose my own safety over Hana’s. Or perhaps if he did, he didn’t care, and I don't know what to do with that. I never believed he felt more than annoyance towards me.

  Speaking of annoying new information, a text from a blocked number appeared on my phone this morning. Apparently, the anonymous note was all theatrics. This dickhead knows my contact info, and he’s gotten bolder.

  Skipping town will only set the clock forward. Fifty thousand, one week, or the video goes viral. -Papi-O

  The price is going up.

  I stared at the screen for a long time trying to decide what to do. If I’m going to play ball and keep this shit under wraps, I’ll have to reply. At the same time, I haven’t looked at this alleged porn film. It could be a hoax. Anonymous notes, blocked numbers, and ridiculous names do not inspire a lot of confidence.

  Hutch claims he’s here to protect us, but if I show it to him, it’ll confirm all the bad things he thinks about my sister. No, I’d rather save him as a last resort if I can’t sort this out myself.

  Fifty grand is more than my monthly allowance, but if I make a partial payment, it’s possible I can keep this guy appeased.

  My brow is furrowed as I take a book off my uncle’s desk. It’s a ledger with names and amounts in it, like a list of payments for services, but it doesn’t make any sense. Sidorov, Alexeyev, Ivanov… Why was my uncle dealing with eastern Europeans?

  “Hey, girl, what’s the good news?” Dirk interrupts my thoughts, and I glance up to see him standing in the doorway with that giant, scary, tattooed guy behind him.

  “Not much.” I hand him the book. “Have you seen this?”

  He takes it, scanning the names and numbers quickly. “It looks like a basic accounting ledger. Do you know more about it?”