A Guilty Affair (4 page)

“Well, you proved us all wrong, so it's water under the bridge.” After a moment, Paulo's expression turned thoughtful. “So you're thinking you need another investigator, huh?”

“Yep. Know anyone who might be interested?”

“I might be.”

“Yeah?” Noah paused, beer bottle halfway to his mouth as he studied his companion. “I think you'd make one helluva P.I., Sanchez. Give it some thought.”

Paulo nodded slowly. “Maybe I will.”

A round of raucous male laughter drew their attention toward the pool table in the corner, where several of their comrades were teasing Mario Cruz, a young officer who'd recently been invited to join the Sunday Night Pool Sharks, as the group had dubbed themselves several years ago. The coveted invitation hadn't come without a price. As the youngest cop present, Mario couldn't take a shot without someone whispering taunts in his ear or “accidentally” bumping into his cue stick, throwing off his concentration.

Noah was lazily contemplating when to bail the poor kid out when Paulo said, “I heard the damnedest thing yesterday. About Riley Kane. Turns out she's back in town.”

Noah grew very still, his fingers tightening around the neck of his beer bottle, wishing it were Mario Cruz's neck instead. Since yesterday, the kid had been blabbering to everyone about pulling Riley over for speeding.

Paulo looked at him. “You already knew, didn't you?”

Noah hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. “I saw her.”

“Really? How's she doing?”

“She seems all right,” Noah lied. No way was he telling anyone—especially another cop—that the fiancée of their fallen comrade was on a mission to prove Trevor had been responsible for his own death.

“Did she say how she's enjoying life up North? Her job at the
Washington Post?
”

Noah shook his head, sipping his beer. “We didn't really talk about it.”

“What
did
you talk about?” Paulo prodded.

“Not much. It was a short visit.”

As Paulo regarded him in shrewd silence, Noah braced himself for the question he knew was coming. But even when it did, he felt as if he'd taken a hard blow to the chest.

“When are you finally going to tell her how you feel?”

Noah closed his eyes for a moment. “I'm not.”

“So you'd rather keep torturing yourself.”

“I'm not tortured.”

Paulo said nothing. The lie hung between them, as thick and palpable as the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over their heads. Paulo was the only one who knew about Noah's feelings for Riley. Not even his brother knew. If he'd been in his right mind, the secret would've followed him to the grave.

On the night of Trevor's funeral, Noah had wanted nothing more than to obliterate his grief and pain by drowning himself in a bottle of whiskey. When he arrived at the bar that fateful night, he'd found Paulo already hunched over the counter, nursing a drink. The two men started talking, and by Noah's third glass of whiskey, he was spilling his guts to Paulo about his feelings for Riley. Paulo had listened to his slurred ramblings in silence, so silent that Noah figured Paulo was probably drunk himself and wouldn't remember a word of Noah's confession once they left the bar.

He was wrong.

The next day, Paulo called him up and asked one simple question. “What're you going to do about Riley?”

It was the last time Noah had allowed himself to drink following an emotional crisis.

“Why are you punishing yourself for being in love with Trevor's fiancée?” Paulo asked now, keeping his voice low enough not to be overheard by others.

“Think about what you just said,” Noah bit off tersely. “She was my best friend's fiancée.”

“Yeah, I get that. But Trevor's not here anymore, man. And, as hard as it is for you to accept, he's not coming back.”

“So does that mean I should just move in on his girl?” Noah growled.

Paulo frowned. “It's been three years. You wouldn't exactly be ‘moving in' on her,
mi amigo
. And I don't think anyone else would see it that way, either.”

Noah scowled. “This isn't about what other people think. It's about what
I
think is right and wrong. What I feel here,” he said, stabbing a finger at his heart, “is wrong.”

“Why the hell is it? I mean, why
can't
it be you, Roarke? Because Trevor met her first?” When Noah said nothing, Paulo shook his head in exasperation. “Riley Kane is a damned beautiful woman. You and I both know she's not gonna be single forever. Eventually, when she comes out of mourning, she's going to be ready for another relationship, and when she is, do you want her to end up with you—or some other lucky bastard? Think about that, my friend. Think real hard.”

Noah already had. It was all he'd thought about for the past three years. The idea of Riley with another man made him fiercely jealous—and profoundly miserable. He couldn't stomach the thought of her being held, kissed, made love to by someone else. And the day she fell in love again…God help him. He hoped he'd never have to endure that agony. If it happened, he hoped he never had to hear about it.

“For all we know,” he brooded, hunched over his beer, “she might already have a boyfriend. She's been gone for three years. We don't know what kind of life she's been leading in D.C.”

Paulo made a face. “Not much of one, according to what I've heard. Her friend Lety at the
Express-News
has kept in touch with Riley. And she says Riley pretty much threw herself into work after she got hired at the
Post
. She puts in long hours at the office and hasn't made much time for socializing—or dating.”

Noah's relief upon hearing this news was tempered by a sharp pang of guilt. It shouldn't please him to know that Riley was leading such a solitary life, closing herself off from the rest of the world. The last thing she needed, in the aftermath of losing Trevor, was to be alone.

His mouth twisted cynically. As if
he
was an expert on what Riley Kane needed.

As Paulo studied Noah's brooding profile, he cocked his head slightly to the side, as if he were angling for a better look into his soul. “Let me ask you something,” he said thoughtfully. “What do you think Trevor would say if he knew how you felt about Riley?”

Noah frowned darkly. “I try not to think about that too much,” he muttered.

“Well, I'll tell you what
I
think, man. I think he'd tell you to go for it.”

Noah shot him a look. “You obviously didn't know Trevor Simmons very well.”

“I knew him well enough. And I think he'd rather have
you
, his best friend that he trusted with his life, to take care of his woman, than some prick who might not treat her right.”

Noah wasn't so sure about that. As close as he and Trevor had been, there'd always been a slight under-current of tension between them where Riley was concerned. He still remembered the look on Trevor's face when he'd stepped outside the police station that fateful day and found Riley, her skirt hiked up to her thighs, huddled beside Noah as they examined the fender of his car. Noah hadn't missed the way Trevor had pulled her gently to her feet, curved an arm around her waist and held her possessively at his side while he performed the introductions.

There had been other things, as well, such as the fact that Trevor seldom let Riley out of his sight whenever Noah was around. Once, during a cookout at a fellow officer's house, Noah had escaped to the privacy of the kitchen to take an important call when Riley appeared in the doorway.

Seeing him on the phone, she'd motioned to a tray of uncooked hot dogs on the counter behind him. “I need to take those outside,” she'd whispered.

Noah had stepped out of her way at the same time she moved, bumping into him. They'd laughed and mumbled sheepish apologies to each other. Noah had reached behind him, picked up the tray and passed it to her. As she murmured her thanks, their eyes met and held for a moment, then slid away as Trevor walked into the room. He'd remained by Riley's side for the rest of the day.

If Trevor had ever asked Noah outright how he felt about Riley, Noah honestly didn't know how he would've responded. But as it turned out, the topic never came up between the two men. In the back of his mind, though, Noah had always wondered if Trevor suspected the truth—which only compounded his guilt in the aftermath of his friend's death.

Shoving aside the painful reverie, Noah tossed down the rest of his beer, then stood and fished two twenties out of his wallet. “I'm gonna go rescue the kid,” he said, hitching his chin toward the pool table where Mario Cruz was trying to figure out which one of the poker-faced cops surrounding him had stolen his cue stick.

Paulo nodded, a knowing look on his face. As Noah walked away, he heard the detective say, just loud enough for him to hear, “Why don't you rescue yourself while you're at it?”

If I could
, Noah thought grimly,
I would've done it a long time ago
.

R
iley
waited until Monday morning before attempting to approach Noah again.

She hadn't trusted herself to go to his house on Sunday. After what had happened—or
not
happened—between them on Saturday, she'd decided it was best that she avoid being alone with him for any prolonged period of time.

Besides, she reasoned as she stepped through the doors of Roarke Investigations bearing three steaming espressos, Noah would be less likely to toss her out on her ear if she threatened to make a scene in front of his clients. And if that didn't work, she'd simply march down the hall to Kenneth Roarke's office and ask for his help. Of course, she was counting on not making it past the threshold of Noah's office before he capitulated to her demands.

“Oh my goodness!” A woman's surprised voice broke into her musings. “Is that
you
, Riley?”

Riley smiled, recognizing the pretty Hispanic woman seated behind the large oak reception desk. “Hey Janie. It's so good to see you.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Sanjuanita Roarke was on her feet and rounding the desk to wrap her in a warm, tight hug. “I can't believe you're back,” she exclaimed, drawing away to give Riley a quick once-over and fluff her hair, which was cut in short, breezy layers that skimmed her cheeks. “You look great. I
love
the new hairdo. Very haute couture.”

Riley grinned. “Thanks, Janie. You look pretty amazing yourself.” And she did, with her glowing dark eyes, glossy black hair that rippled past her shoulders, and smooth, olive-toned skin that had been kissed by the summer sun. Everything about Janie Roarke radiated happiness. “Married life really agrees with you,” Riley observed.

A soft, poignant smile curved Janie's mouth. “You could say that. Oh, hey, are these for us?” she asked, noticing the espressos for the first time.

“Yep. If I'd known you worked here, I would have brought a double mocha latte. Hope you don't mind settling for an espresso instead?”

“Not at all,” said Janie, divesting Riley of the drinks and setting them down on the desk counter before helping herself to a cup. “I could definitely use a jolt of caffeine. Don't be fooled by the empty reception area—it's been a madhouse around here. This is the first time the phone has stopped ringing all morning.” The last was said with a pointed glare at the silent phone, as if daring it to contradict her.

Riley laughed. “How long have you been working here?” she asked curiously.

“A year in September. I know,” Janie said, seeing Riley's surprised expression. “The last time you saw me, I was toting the twins around and vowing never to return to work. But when this opportunity came up, I just couldn't resist.” Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief as she added, sotto voce, “I can't begin to tell you how much fun it can be when your boss is the man you sleep with every night. Suffice it to say, lunch breaks have taken on a
whole
new meaning.”

Riley chuckled. “That good, huh?”

“And then some.” She took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes with a long, luxuriant sigh. “Oh, that hits the spot.”

Riley grinned. “Don't say that too loud, or Kenneth will think you're out here cheating on him.”

Janie laughed, rounding the desk to reclaim her chair as the phone trilled. “Roarke Investigations,” she answered in a brisk, professional tone. “How may I help you this morning?”

Riley's heart sank when she heard Janie inform the caller that Noah was out of the office. “How long?” she blurted without thinking the moment Janie hung up the phone.

Janie arched a thick brow at her. “How long what?”

“How long will Noah be gone?” Riley asked, then, in a calmer voice, “I need to speak to him.”

But it was too late. The other woman's curiosity had already been aroused. “Sounds urgent.”

Riley hesitated. “It's pretty important,” she murmured.

“Is it something Kenneth can help you with? He'll be finished with his conference call any minute now.”

Riley shook her head. “I'll wait for Noah.” She wouldn't play her big-brother card until it was absolutely necessary. “Do you expect him back anytime soon?”

“He's down at the courthouse, providing expert testimony in one of his cases.” She glanced at her diamond-encrusted wristwatch and frowned. “He should be back by now. Want me to give him a call on his cell?”

“No, that's okay. I'll wait a little longer.”

As Janie took the next call, Riley wandered over to the windows and glanced outside, half-wondering if Noah had returned, spied her car, and decided to hide out in the parking lot until she gave up and left. She scanned the lot but didn't see his Yukon.

Didn't matter. She wasn't leaving until she got what she came there for.

She turned at the sound of a door opening down the corridor. A moment later, a tall, dark-skinned man who bore a striking resemblance to Noah appeared in the reception area. Without glancing in Riley's direction, he made his way over to the desk, stopped behind Janie's chair and leaned down to nuzzle the nape of her neck.

With a soft murmur of pleasure, Janie turned her head to offer her mouth for a kiss, before belatedly remembering that they weren't alone. Catching Riley's amused eyes, she cleared her throat briskly. “Uh, honey, we have a visitor.”

Kenneth Roarke's head lifted. When he saw Riley standing there, his dark eyes widened in shock.
“Riley?”

“Hello, Kenneth,” Riley said, starting forward with a warm smile. “How've you been?”

“Damn, girl. It
is
you.” He crossed the room in three powerful strides and, ignoring her outstretched hand, drew her into his arms for a big bear hug.

Riley laughed, and couldn't help noting the difference between Kenneth's warm reception and his brother's decidedly cool one. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time, if ever, Noah had given her a hug.

“When'd you get back in town?” Kenneth asked, drawing her down onto an upholstered sofa beside him.

“Late Friday afternoon,” Riley answered.

“Does Noah know you're here?”

She nodded. “I saw him that night.”

“Really?” Kenneth looked across the room to exchange surprised glances with Janie, who shook her head in disbelief.

“He didn't say a word to us,” she complained. “Not even when he came to church on Sunday for Lourdes's choir solo. Oh, he's in big trouble.”

Riley wasn't at all surprised to learn that Noah hadn't told his family about her return. He'd been less than thrilled to see her and probably wished she'd catch the first thing smoking back to D.C.

Well, he was in for a rude awakening.

“How long are you staying?” Kenneth asked, as if he'd read her mind.

“Two months. I took a leave of absence from work.” She smiled at Kenneth. “How's your mother doing? My grandmother told me she remarried.”

“That's right. She married a deacon from her church.” Kenneth grinned proudly. “So I've walked
two
special ladies down the aisle within the last year. I'm sure Noah told you about Daniela getting hitched?”

Riley nodded, smiling warmly. “Two weddings in one year. Wow, that's something else.”

“Daniela had the big, beautiful wedding,” Janie chimed in. “Mama Hubbard didn't want to take away the spotlight from her daughter, so she and Deacon Hubbard had a nice, quiet ceremony several months before. Both were incredibly romantic in their own ways.”

“That's wonderful,” Riley murmured.

An awkward silence fell over the room, as if Janie and Kenneth had suddenly remembered that Riley had lost her fiancé shortly before her own wedding.

“How've you been?” Kenneth asked quietly.

She forced a smile. “I'm doing fine. I really like Washington, D.C. The museums are incredible, and it's gorgeous in the fall when the leaves change color on the trees. You guys should visit sometime.”

“Definitely,” said Kenneth.

“We'd love to,” Janie echoed.

At that moment, the front door opened and Noah strode purposefully into the building.

Riley's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him in a double-breasted navy-blue suit worn with a crisp ivory shirt and a charcoal-and-blue-striped silk tie. The last time she'd seen him dressed up had been at Trevor's funeral—which would explain why she hadn't noticed before how magnificent, how powerfully male, Noah looked in a suit.

Halfway to the reception desk, he paused and slowly removed his mirrored aviator sunglasses. If he was surprised to see Riley seated in the waiting area, he didn't show it. Those dark, fathomless eyes touched hers for the briefest moment, then slid away to meet Kenneth's speculative gaze.

“Why didn't you tell us Riley was back in town?” his brother demanded.

One corner of Noah's mouth lifted wryly. “I figured you'd find out soon enough.”

“You still should have told us,” Janie chided. “We could have invited Riley over for dinner yesterday.”

“She'll be here for the rest of the summer,” Noah drawled, and this time when his eyes met hers, Riley felt a tingle of awareness that she dismissed as nerves. “Isn't that right, Riley?”

She nodded. “I need to talk to you.”

His expression remained impassive. “Of course you do.” As Riley got up, he turned his back on her and walked to the desk to retrieve his phone messages from Janie.

“How'd it go this morning?” Kenneth asked, rising to his feet and starting across the room.

“Good. If you've got some time, I'd like to run a few things past you.”

“I don't have any more appointments until later this afternoon. We can talk after you and Riley are finished.”

Before Noah could protest, Janie cheerfully interjected, “Look, fellas. Riley brought us all coffee. Wasn't that sweet of her?”

“Sure was,” Kenneth agreed, grabbing a cup from the desk and taking a grateful sip. He winked at Riley over the rim. “Good stuff. You'll have to come around more often, Miss Kane.”

Riley smiled, but she couldn't help but notice that Noah, sifting through his phone messages, completely ignored the coffee on his way out of the room.

Kenneth and Janie exchanged quizzical glances before turning to look at Riley, as if expecting her to provide an explanation for Noah's strange behavior.

“It's a long story,” Riley muttered, then started down the corridor after Noah.

He was already waiting by the door when she reached his office, his head averted. After she brushed past him to enter the room, he closed the door and waved her into the visitor chair then rounded the large desk, which was as cluttered with paperwork as the one at his house.

He sat, propped his elbow on the desk, rested his fingertips against the side of his temple and gave her his undivided attention.

Resisting the urge to squirm, Riley crossed her denim-clad legs and folded her hands neatly in her lap, as if by perfecting her posture, she could maintain her composure.

“I was wondering if you've given any more thought to what we spoke about on Friday,” she began.

“I have,” Noah said evenly, “and my answer is still the same.”

Though she'd been prepared for such a response, Riley felt a sharp stab of disappointment. “Let me ask you this, Noah. What if you didn't know me? What if I'd just walked in off the street and shared the same story with you. Would you still refuse to take my case?”

“We turn people away all the time, Riley. That's the nature of the business.”

“That's not what I asked you.”

“No, I wouldn't take your case.”

“I don't believe you. I know the only reason you won't even consider helping me is that Trevor was your best friend.”

“And your fiancé,” Noah reminded her coldly.

“Yes, my fiancé,” she said with a brittle half smile. “The man I gave up a good job for to move back to San Antonio just to be near him. The man I loved enough to want to marry and have children with. The man I shared my—”

Noah's jaw hardened. “Enough, Riley. You made your point.”

“Don't ever question my love for Trevor,” she said in a voice that trembled with suppressed fury. “This has
nothing
whatsoever to do with that.”

“I disagree,” Noah bit off tersely. “I think if you love someone as much as you claim to have loved Trevor, you wouldn't be entertaining these outrageous suspicions about him. Suspicions, by the way, that are based solely on dreams.
Dreams
, Riley.”

Her nostrils flared with anger. “It's not just the dreams. I told you, there was a man at the funeral—”