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Authors: Maureen Smith

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BOOK: A Guilty Affair
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Chapter 2

N
oah
stared at Riley as if she'd just escaped from the local asylum. She supposed she couldn't blame him. She'd been questioning her own sanity for the past three years, ever since Trevor died and left her with more questions than answers.

“What are you talking about, Riley?” Noah asked warily. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think there was another explanation for Trevor's death. Something other than what we were told.”

Noah's expression darkened. “What are you saying? That there was some sort of police
cover-up?

Riley tried not to flinch at his sharp tone. “I don't know. It's possible that
no one
really knows—”

Noah shook his head at her. “You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Riley.”

She swallowed hard, then blurted, “I think Conrad Weiss shot Trevor because he knew Trevor was going to kill him first.”

Noah scowled. “
What?
That's ridiculous. Trevor wouldn't have killed him. He always played by the book, and you know it.”

“I thought I did,” Riley whispered.

A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the low drone of the paper shredder. As if they were touching, Riley could feel every muscle tensing in Noah's body, causing his jaw to harden as he stared at her.

“Conrad Weiss was a convicted felon,” he said in a low, quelling voice that made Riley shiver. “He was on the verge of robbing a convenience store when Trevor walked through the door and interrupted him. That's the reason Weiss ran, and
that's
why Trevor chased him down that alley.”

Riley closed her eyes briefly against the painful memories. “I read the police report, Noah,” she said huskily. “I know what happened.”

“Then what's going on here, Riley?” Noah demanded. “Are you trying to tell me that Trevor did something wrong? Weiss shot
him
, not the other way around.”

“I know that!” Riley lurched from the chair and paced to the only window in the room, which overlooked a stretch of highway flanked by dense green forest.

She didn't need to be reminded of the details surrounding Trevor's death. They were chiseled into her memory like carvings etched into a wooden talisman. She'd viewed the graphic crime-scene photos, listened to eyewitness testimonies and pored over the police report until she could recite it verbatim. And the fact that Conrad Weiss had been shot and killed that same day while fleeing from the arresting officers had done little to lessen the anguish of losing Trevor.

Behind her, Noah pushed out a long, deep breath. “Look, Riley, I know how difficult these past three years have been for—”

“I didn't come here to cry on your shoulder, Noah. The time for that has come and gone.” She was surprised by the bitterness she heard in her own voice.

So was Noah, apparently. For several moments he didn't say a word. Then, softly, he asked, “Why did you come here, Riley?”

She turned slowly to face him. “I think it's possible Trevor already knew Conrad Weiss. I think he met him before that day in the convenience store.”

Noah couldn't have looked more stunned if she'd announced she was giving birth to his baby by Immaculate Conception. “
What
did you say?” he whispered.

“I have reason to believe Trevor and Weiss might have already known each other.”

“Based on what?”

Riley hesitated, biting her bottom lip. “Ever since Trevor died, I've been having these strange dreams—”

“You're basing your suspicions on
dreams?

“Wait, just hear me out! In the dreams, I see Trevor and Weiss talking to each other, but I can't hear what they're saying. In one dream, I'm standing at the door of Trevor's apartment trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. But when Trevor sees me, he walks over and slams the door in my face. But it's not just the dreams I've been having,” she hastened to add, seeing Noah's skeptical expression. “Once when Trevor and I were visiting Fredericksburg, I was taking too long in an antiques shop, so Trevor went outside to wait for me. When I came out, he was talking to some man I'd never seen before, an older man with a heavy German accent. He left as soon as I appeared, and when I asked Trevor who the guy was, he said he was just some stranger making small talk while his wife finished shopping. I didn't think much of it at the time, until I saw the man again a few months later—at Trevor's funeral.”

Noah was watching her carefully. “I don't remember seeing any strangers at the funeral,” he said tightly. “Everyone there was accounted for. We made sure of that.”

Riley shook her head. “He was there, Noah. I saw him. I meant to go to him, to find out who he was and what he was doing there. But people kept stopping me to talk, and by the time I looked up again, the man was gone. I'm telling you the truth, Noah,” she added, because he still looked unconvinced.

“Even if you did see this man, what does that prove? Maybe he heard about Trevor's shooting on the news and came to pay his last respects to a man he'd once met. Why do you see a connection between this German guy and what happened to Trevor?”

“Conrad Weiss was German. What if this man was a friend of his, or a relative?” She hesitated. “Or a partner in crime?”

Noah's dark eyes narrowed and focused on her with dangerous intensity. “I'm not sure I like where you're going with this, Riley,” he said, his voice a low, steely warning. “I hope you're not trying to suggest that Trevor was somehow responsible for his own death.”

Riley swallowed with difficulty. “I don't know, Noah,” she whispered.

“You don't know,” he repeated flatly.

“No, I don't. I was hoping you could help me find out.”

“Help you find out
what
, Riley?” Noah exploded, lunging to his feet with a fluidity that defied his powerful build. “You want me to help you find out whether your fiancé—and my best friend—was involved in some sort of criminal activity that got him
killed?

“Yes!” Riley cried hoarsely. “That's
exactly
what I want you to do!”

“Damn it, Riley! Do you know how many women have walked through that door and
begged
me to help exonerate their convicted husbands and boyfriends? Trevor died honorably in the line of duty while trying to apprehend a criminal. Everyone who spoke at his funeral called him a hero. A
hero
, Riley! And here you are, determined to prove the exact opposite. Why?”

“Because I need closure!” she cried. “Because ever since he died, I've been plagued by nightmares and questions that won't go away! Because I can't shake this horrible feeling that something's wrong,
terribly
wrong, and until I find out what it is, I won't be able to move on with my life.” Hot, stinging tears blurred her vision. “Do you think I enjoy this, Noah? Do you think I
want
to have these ugly fears about a man I was going to spend the rest of my life with?”

Noah looked at her with an expression of fury mingled with grief. “I think you're angry with Trevor for dying and leaving you, and this is your way of punishing him.”

She gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. “Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Noah. It doesn't become you.”

A muscle worked in his tightly clenched jaw. “I think it's time for you to leave, Riley.”

Something shriveled up inside her. She recognized it as hope. “Does this mean you're not going to help me?”

He said nothing, regarding her in stony silence.

Blinking back tears, Riley crossed to the door and walked out of the room.

Only when Noah heard the front door close behind her did he move. And then it was to clear the contents of his desk with a violent sweep of one arm. Sheets of paper went sailing through the air like confetti at a ticker-tape parade before scattering across the floor.

Taking no satisfaction in the mess he'd made, Noah rounded the desk and began to pace the length of the room.

Damn her!

Damn her for waltzing back into his life after three years and making such an impossible demand of him.

Damn her for reopening the wound that had never quite healed in the aftermath of Trevor's death, for awakening old memories he'd sooner forget.

Damn her for being the only woman he'd ever loved but could never have.

With a savage oath, Noah sank into the chair behind his desk and dropped his head into his hands.

He'd been in love with Riley Kane for five years, an obsession that began almost from the moment he met her. As if it were yesterday, he still remembered the fateful encounter that had changed his life forever.

He'd been returning to the police station after an unproductive morning of interviewing witnesses for a homicide case he was working. He was hot, tired and in a foul enough mood to strangle the first person who crossed him.

As he was pulling into a parking space, he was rear-ended by another vehicle that had just sped into the lot. Cursing a blue streak, Noah killed the engine and jumped out of the car to see what kind of an idiot would speed in the parking lot of a
police
station.

A pair of long, shapely legs had emerged from the other car, and the next thing he knew, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen was hurrying toward him, apologizing profusely for her clumsiness. Impressions bombarded him at once. Flawless, velvety brown skin. Shoulder-length black hair cut in long, stylish layers that accentuated a face dominated by large, thick-lashed eyes the color of Godiva chocolate, high cheekbones, and an exquisitely lush mouth that threatened to send his imagination into overdrive.

Before Noah could utter a single word—he'd been too tongue-tied, anyway—the woman hiked up her skirt and crouched down behind his Crown Victoria to investigate the damage she'd caused.

But the only damage Riley Kane caused that day was to Noah's heart.

Especially when he learned that she and his best friend, Trevor Simmons, had been dating for a month.
She
was the “incredible, amazing, smart, sexy, beautiful” woman Trevor had been raving about since meeting her at a law-enforcement convention in Houston. Riley, a police beat reporter for the
Houston Chronicle
, had been there to cover the story for the newspaper.

Ironically, it was Noah who was supposed to have attended the convention. But at the last minute he'd gotten a crucial break in one of his cases, and he'd asked Trevor to go in his place.

Fate had an unbelievably cruel sense of humor.

Even after all this time, the sight of Riley Kane still unraveled him. One look from her, and he was that same tongue-tied sap in the parking lot, not knowing whether to write her a speeding ticket or ask her out on a date.

When she left San Antonio three years ago, he thought he'd never see her again. And though he'd secretly mourned her absence, he knew it was for the best. Riley was a constant reminder of Trevor, of the senseless shooting that had claimed his life. Noah couldn't look at her without remembering how much Trevor had loved and worshipped her, how ecstatic he'd been when she finally agreed to marry him.

And Noah couldn't look at Riley without being reminded of his own forbidden feelings for her.

From the very beginning she'd intrigued and fascinated him, tempting him as no other woman ever had. He'd quickly learned that being anywhere near her was the worst form of torture he could imagine, so he'd kept his distance. Having her in Washington, D.C., hundreds of miles away from him, had brought him a little peace of mind. He didn't have to worry about pulling up beside her at a gas station, or running into her at a restaurant they'd frequented with Trevor. He didn't have to be tormented by the constant knowledge that she was somewhere nearby. Within close proximity—yet hopelessly out of reach.

But now she was back.

Back to find closure, she'd said.

Noah's gut clenched at the memory of her outrageous proposition. He couldn't believe she would even
suspect
Trevor of any sort of illegal activity. Trevor Simmons had been one of the most trustworthy, up-standing men Noah had ever known. For Riley to suggest otherwise was downright insane. He couldn't begin to comprehend what had led her to such an unspeakable conclusion, but there was no way in hell he would help her betray Trevor's memory by dragging his name through the dirt.

As far as Noah was concerned, coveting his best friend's fiancée was betrayal enough.

Chapter 3

I
f
Noah thought he'd seen the last of Riley, he was sorely mistaken.

After tossing and turning all night, she rose at six in the morning, took a quick shower and dressed in a lightweight gypsy skirt, a white tank top and a pair of strappy sandals. In the kitchen a few minutes later, she downed a glass of cranberry juice, then packed up the lemon pound cake Florinda Kane had baked last night. She scribbled a note to her grandmother, who was still sleeping, then slipped quietly from the house.

Noah lived on the northeast side of town in an older subdivision that boasted lush, manicured lawns and brick ramblers shaded by giant oaks. Noah's one-story house was located on a cul-de-sac, and as Riley pulled up to the curb, she was relieved to see his black GMC Yukon parked in the driveway. Although it was Saturday, she knew he wouldn't be sleeping in, just as she'd known he would be at the office late last night.

It was funny how she could know so much about a man who'd always made a point of keeping her at arm's length.

Just as she was about to climb out of her car, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the man in question jogging up the street toward the house. Riley waited until he'd nearly reached the Avalon before opening the door and stepping from the vehicle.

Noah stopped on the other side of the car, sweaty and undeniably sexy in black athletic shorts and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves torn off. Muscles bunched and rippled everywhere she looked, so she forced herself to look elsewhere, and found herself staring at the hard angle of his stubble-darkened jaw.

“What're you doing here, Riley?” he asked in a low, guarded voice.

She lifted her eyes to his and saw that he didn't appear at all pleased to see her. “I came to talk to you,” she said.

“I think we did enough talking last night,” he said flatly.

“I did a poor job of explaining myself. If you'd just give me another chance—”

Noah shook his head. “Nothing you can say will change my mind about helping you. You wasted your time coming here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do.” With a curt nod, he turned and started up the driveway.

Riley panicked. “Maybe I should speak to Kenneth,” she blurted out, surprising herself. It had never occurred to her to approach Noah's older brother about investigating the circumstances surrounding Trevor's death. But now that she'd proposed the idea, she knew it had been the right move.

Noah stopped and turned slowly to face her. His expression was inscrutable, but she could feel the coiled tension emanating from his body. A sane person might have backed off, but Riley had long since abandoned any pretense of sanity.

“Maybe you're right,” she continued pragmatically. “Maybe you're
not
the right person to help me, Noah. You're too personally involved, and I should have realized that. But I'm sure your brother would have no problem remaining objective. After all, Kenneth once worked in Internal Affairs. He's used to investigating other cops, whether they were his friends or not.”

“Kenneth won't take your case,” Noah said tersely.

“I guess there's only one way to find out. I'm a paying customer—I'm sure I can persuade your brother to treat me as such.” She glanced at her slim gold wristwatch. “Do you think I can catch him at the office this early?”

Noah gave her a long, measured look. Riley waited, chin tilted at an expectant angle, not backing down.

After another moment, Noah growled, “Come inside,” and without waiting for her to follow, he turned and stalked off toward the house.

Riley ducked inside her car to retrieve the pound cake, then closed the door and hurried after him. “I brought something for you,” she told him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he unlocked the front door. “What is it?”

“My grandmother's lemon pound cake. She remembered how much you enjoyed it at the picnic a few years ago, so she baked one just for you.”

Noah's expression softened. “She didn't have to do that.”

Riley shrugged. “What can I say? She's crazy about you.”

Chuckling softly, Noah opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter. As she walked past him, her shoulder brushed against his chest, sending an unexpected tingle of awareness through her body. Her startled gaze flew to his face, but thankfully, Noah didn't seem to notice as he followed her inside the house and closed the door.

Golden pine floors gleamed under her feet as she stepped further into the foyer. Early-morning sunlight poured through wide glass windows on the facing wall. Riley glanced around the spacious living room with its dark, masculine furnishings and brick fireplace that stretched to the twenty-foot ceiling.

“Goodness, I haven't been here since…” She trailed off as a knot of sorrow wedged in her throat.

Behind her, Noah said quietly, “Since Trevor's surprise birthday party four years ago.”

She turned around, and their eyes met and held in a moment of shared remembrance. “I miss him,” Riley whispered before she could stop herself.

“I know,” Noah said gently.

Mustering a feeble smile, she held out the cake to him. “Better take this before I change my mind about parting with it.”

Noah's mouth curved ruefully as he accepted the offering. “You can't possibly expect me to eat this entire thing by myself.”

“Why not? I used to do it all the time after I moved to the East Coast. Whenever I got homesick, Grandma would send me one of her cakes, and within a few days, it was all gone.” She grinned sheepishly, patting her hip. “Which would probably explain the reason I gained fifteen pounds after my first year in D.C.”

Noah's lazy gaze ran the length of her. “I can't tell,” he murmured.

“It's the skirt,” Riley explained, and wondered why her palms were suddenly damp. “It hides everything.”

He nodded, his mouth twitching. “I'll take your word for it. Come on, I'll fix some coffee so we can have it with the cake.”

Riley wiped her hands on her skirt and followed him down the hall.

The updated kitchen had been done in black and stainless steel, with a center island that gleamed like an iceberg at midnight. A pair of tall French doors looked out over a wooden deck, a sea of green lawn and blooming flower beds lovingly maintained by Noah's mother, Pamela Roarke. Plastic chew toys were strewn around the yard, but there was no sign of their owner.

“Wait a minute,” Riley wondered aloud. “Where's—”

Before she could complete the question, a black-and-white Alaskan malamute came bounding up the steps and barreling across the deck toward the house, barking excitedly.

“Eskimo!” With a cry of delight, Riley opened the French doors and dropped to her knees to greet the large, furry dog who bathed her cheek with a wet, eager tongue. She laughed, looking up at Noah. “He remembers me!”

“Of course he remembers you,” Noah said mildly. “Why wouldn't he?”

“Because it's been four years since I last saw him.”

“You're unforgettable, Riley.”

There was a strange, subdued note in Noah's voice, but when Riley glanced up again, he'd walked over to the center island and begun busying himself with making coffee.

She returned her attention to Eskimo, who had rolled onto his back and offered his belly for scratching. She obliged him, running her fingers through his thick, woolly coat and crooning, “What a
good
boy you are. Aren't you the most handsome boy I've ever seen?”

“Careful,” came Noah's warning from across the room. “He'll get an inflated ego, and then I'll be the one fetching
his
slippers.”

Riley laughed, then leaned close to murmur to the dog, “That's okay. We both know who's the
real
king of this castle.”

“I heard that,” Noah muttered.

Chuckling, Riley rose from the floor, toed off her sandals and padded across the room, enjoying the warm glide of wood beneath her bare feet. Eskimo trailed after her as she walked over to the sink and washed her hands, then opened a drawer and retrieved a knife to cut the cake, silently marveling that she'd remembered where Noah kept his cutlery.

As she turned from the sink, Noah turned from the island at the same time, and they bumped into each other. The knife slipped from Riley's hand and clattered to the floor, but neither of them noticed, their gazes locked on each other for a long, charged moment.

It was Riley who stepped back first. Every nerve ending in her body felt as if it was on fire. “I—I'm sorry,” she stammered. “I didn't know you were right there.”

“It's all right,” Noah said huskily. Without releasing her gaze, he knelt and picked up the knife from the floor. As he slowly rose, Riley moved aside so that he could rinse the knife at the sink. When he'd finished, he set it down carefully on the countertop.

She gave a shaky little laugh. “That was a close call.”

Dark, hooded eyes met hers. “Yeah, it was,” Noah softly agreed, and Riley wondered if he was referring to the dropped knife—or something else entirely.

“I'm going to take a shower,” he told her. “The coffee's ready. Help yourself.”

She nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice.

When he'd left the kitchen, she sank weakly onto one of the bar stools at the island and blew out a long, ragged breath.

Eskimo came over to where she sat, and looked up at her in curious inquiry.

“I don't know what just happened,” Riley murmured, absently scratching behind the dog's ear. “And just between you and me, I don't
want
to know.”

Noah stayed in the shower until the water turned cold. He needed time to get himself together, to calm his jittery nerves and bring his galloping pulse under control.

He took his time getting dressed, tugging on a pair of jeans and easing a black T-shirt over his chest as slowly and deliberately as if he were made of glass. He felt like that, as if he were teetering precariously on the edge of a cliff, and just one little push would send him over, shattering into a million pieces. It was downright maddening to know that one woman could hold this much power over him. In the space of one night, Riley Kane had turned his world upside down.

Again.

Knowing he could no longer put it off, Noah went in search of his uninvited houseguest. When he reached the entry to the living room, he froze, riveted by the sight that greeted him. Riley was curled up on the leather sofa with her head propped on her arms and her legs tucked underneath her long skirt. She was fast asleep. Dozing soundly on the floor at her feet was Eskimo.

For several moments Noah just stood there, air stalled in his lungs, unable to look away. It was only when Eskimo quietly flicked his tail that Noah came out of his trance and remembered to breathe again.

Drawing several deep breaths, he started purposefully across the room, intending to wake Riley and tell her, as politely as possible, that it was time for her to go home.

But when he knelt in front of her and took in her sleeping face, the words dried up in his throat. She was beautiful, even with the faint, dark shadows beneath her eyes that told him she hadn't slept well in a long time. Her skin was flawless, the rich color of melted brown sugar. Her lips, as exquisitely lush as he remembered, were parted slightly as she slumbered. He imagined leaning down and brushing his mouth against hers, tasting her, kissing her as he'd dreamed of doing for years. And he imagined her moaning softly and opening for him, her breath mingling warmly with his, their tongues gliding sensually together.

Noah closed his eyes and bowed his head as the familiar want swept through him, dark and potent, heating his blood and throbbing heavily in his groin. He dragged air into his lungs and inhaled the scent of her perfume—a light, citrus fragrance he'd smelled in his dreams long after she was out of his life.

Opening his eyes, he slowly rose to his feet and stepped back, needing distance, though no amount of distance would ever help him.

Eskimo lifted his large head and stared at Noah, but made no move to get up and follow him. Noah glared balefully at the traitorous animal, then turned and stalked out of the room.

Even the damn dog knew how special Riley Kane was.

Riley awakened with a start.

Disoriented, she lifted her head from her arms and surveyed the large room, which was at once familiar and not. And then she remembered where she was, and the mission that had brought her there, and she sat up quickly. Too quickly—sending a rush of blood straight to her head. With a muffled groan, she leaned her head back against the sofa and waited for the dizziness to pass.

She couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep. She'd come here with her full armor on, prepared to do battle. But as soon as her opponent was out of sight, what had she done? She'd lain down and gone to sleep like a drowsy toddler at nap time.

BOOK: A Guilty Affair
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