Darkest Desire (5 page)

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Authors: Tawny Taylor

BOOK: Darkest Desire
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“Sure, but I shouldn't drink too much after taking those sleeping pills.”
“Good point. Just a swallow. How about ‘to a new life and new beginnings'?”
“I'll drink to that,” she said. They tapped glasses, then sipped. He watched her over the rim. Her gaze slid to the side, avoiding his. She set down her glass and poked at her salad. “Have you registered for your class yet?”
“No, not yet.” When she started to stand, he jumped to his feet. “What is it?”
“I need some water.”
“I'll get it.” He headed into the kitchen, filled a glass with ice and water, and brought it back for her.
Chewing, she studied him as he returned to his seat. “You aren't going to take that course, are you? The sewing class. You never were.”
“Of course I was.” His face was flaming. He wondered if she could tell.
She tipped her head. Her lips quirked.
“Was?”
“Was? Am. I
am
taking that class. I'll register as soon as we're done eating. Can I register online?”
Her lips twitched. “Only if you're a current student.”
“Then I guess that's out. I'll have to go to the registrar's office tomorrow. I will go.”
“Sure.”
“I will.”
He watched her eat for a few minutes. Watched her lips close around her fork. Watched her tongue slide back and forth across her lower lip. Every now and then she'd glance up at him and he'd have to look away.
He was slightly disappointed when she pushed her half-full plate away and groaned. “I am so stuffed. Thanks again for the dinner. It was delicious.”
“You're welcome.”
She nibbled on her lower lip as she studied him for several seconds. “You're really going to take that class?”
“Sure, I said I was. Why do you keep doubting me? Shouldn't a guy know how to sew?”
“Of course.” Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Then . . . what? Why are you looking at me like I'm lying?”
“You surprise me sometimes. That's all.”
“Maybe that's a good thing.”
Their gazes snagged and locked. This was good. Very good. The chemistry was sizzling between them.
She jerked her gaze away. Her cheeks pinked. Staring down at her plate, she played with the fettuccine noodles, winding them around her fork. “Rin hasn't called yet. I hope she's okay.”
He checked his watch. “They're probably still on the plane. They had a layover in New Jersey. I have no idea why my brother decided to fly commercial. He never flies commercial.”
“Cost savings?”
“Maybe. If he leased a private jet it would probably be flying back empty, and he'd have to pay for that. But he usually likes to know who's doing the flying. Plus, there's the added inconvenience of waiting for flights, changing planes.”
“I guess you'll have to ask him.” She was still staring down at her plate, pushing food around with her fork.
He reached for her, let his fingertips barely brush against the side of her hand, resting on the table. The second they made contact, she yanked her hand back, hiding it in her lap. “I'm sure Rin will be okay.”
“Yes, of course she will. I know that. Drako would never let anything happen to her. But it doesn't stop me from worrying.” She lifted her eyes to his. “My sister is all I have. She means everything to me.”
“I'm sure she does.”
“Not that you and Talen and Drako don't mean something to me, too. Since I moved in, you've sort of become my surrogate brothers.”
That was hardly what he wanted to hear. “Brothers?” he echoed.
She chuckled. “Don't care for that descriptive? Would you prefer friend?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” At least friends could sleep together. At least friends could be attracted to each other.
She smiled and his heart lurched. “You are so cute when you're not being a bossy brute.”
“I'm not ‘cute.' ”
“That wasn't meant as an insult. I love how you didn't take offense to the bossy brute part, only the cute reference.”
“I cede to the bossy comment. No denying that. On the other hand, puppies and kittens are cute. Grown men aren't. I'm not.”
“I guess we'll have to agree to disagree, then.”
No, he'd have to prove he wasn't cute.
And he wasn't brotherly.
That was going to be fun.
5
“M
arry me,” Malek blurted.
He instantly regretted it. What the hell was he doing?
You dumbass, do you want to scare the hell out of her?
Lei's eyes widened. Then she started laughing. And she didn't stop. Not for at least five minutes. Or maybe five hours. “Thank you for the laugh. I needed it today. It's been a rough one.”
He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd been expecting. But this . . . ? Hysterical laughter? His pride was feeling a little bruised. Really, was it that funny? “I wasn't joking.”
She started to laugh again, but the guffaw was cut off abruptly. She scrunched her eyebrows and tipped her head. “Why would you ask me that?” Looking confused, dazed, she shook her head. “I don't understand. Did you get the impression I was looking for a husband somehow?”
“No, not ‘looking' for a husband.”
Now appearing bewildered and maybe a little scared, she studied him. “I'm . . . speechless.” She shoved away from the table. Stood. Sat back down. Looked at him. Opened her mouth but didn't say anything. Snapped it shut and stood again. “My sister married your brother because she needed the money. I don't need money. I mean, sure, money is nice, and I don't have much...I don't have any. But... but...” Her face turned the shade of a fish's belly. “Marriage isn't for me. I'm sorry.” She turned to walk away, then spun back around. “But thank you.” Once again, she turned away. She took one, two, three steps, then did another one-eighty. “Did my sister put you up to this?”
“Nobody ‘put me' up to anything.”
“Okay.” She started toward the stairs once more. This time she made it as far as the hallway before she turned around to face him again. “It's nothing against you. I'm just... not ready, will probably never be ready to get married. To anyone.”
“I understand. We're good.”
“Good.” She gave him a semi-smile. “I'd still like to be friends.”
“Sure. Friends.”
Friends. Shit.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“You're welcome.”
She didn't leave. Instead, she chewed on her lip. Then she took a step in the right direction, toward him. He didn't say anything because he was one hundred percent sure he'd scare her off if he did. Instead, he waited while she returned to the table and picked up her plate. “What am I thinking, making you clean up after me?”
“It's okay.” Standing beside her, Malek set his silverware on his empty plate. “How many times have you tidied up after me and Talen?”
Her eyes sparkled as some of the tension left her face. “Good point.” Dirty plate in one hand, both wineglasses in the other, she headed for the counter.
He was right behind her. Set his plate down. Then, ignoring the nagging temptation to linger near her, he went back to the table to finish clearing it. Meanwhile, he watched her rinse her dish and load it in the dishwasher. Her movements were jerky, nervous. And she wouldn't look at him. In an effort to fill the semi-uncomfortable silence hanging over them, Malek remoted on the TV in the nearby family room and turned it to a music station. And while he sang along with one of Blake Shelton's tunes as he wiped down the table and counters, Lei ran water over the dirty dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
When they were finished, Malek dried his hands on a dishtowel. “Now that we've cleaned up, how about some dessert?”
“Dessert?” Lei's eyes lit up.
He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out three foam cartons. “I have tiramisu, cocoa pistachio shortcakes, and a crème brûlée.”
Her gaze zigzagged between the cartons and his face. “Wow, that's a lot of dessert.”
He flipped the lid off the first one. “I had a weak moment.”
“I guess so.”
He opened the second and third carton, lining them up on the counter. “No strings attached. Just friends sharing dessert.” When she didn't decline, he grabbed a couple of spoons from the drawer and handed her one. “Dig in.”
“I'll get a plate and put a little—”
“No, here.” He spooned up some vanilla bean custard and held it out for her.
After watching her eat that yogurt, he was aching to feed her some of this decadent dessert.
She hesitated and blushed, then hastily opened her mouth, leaning in to accept the spoonful. The second her lips closed around the utensil, her eyelids drooped. “Mmmmm . . .” she said, moving back, leaving him with an empty spoon but a warm and heavy groin. “That's insanely delicious.”
“Have more, please. I shouldn't eat all of this.”
To his surprise, she abandoned her hesitation and helped herself to half the crème brûlée, several bites of the tiramisu, and half the cocoa shortcake. Then she set down her spoon and said, “Okay. I've gorged on enough chocolate for a month. No more.”
And he'd just watched enough food porn for a year. He was doing his best to hide his raging hard-on and was practically gritting his teeth, thanks to a severe case of blue balls. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Who wouldn't?” She dropped her spoon into the dishwasher's silverware rack. As Malek leaned over her to do the same, she wriggled away from him before he'd gotten close enough to touch her.
Damn.
It seemed his idiotic, poorly thought-out marriage proposal might have made things worse, not better. Now she was going to be even more uncomfortable around him. Maybe more than she was with other men. That was bad. Very bad.
What the hell had he been thinking?
“I have some reading to do for a class,” she said as she skittered around the granite-topped island. “Thanks again for the dinner. Everything was delicious. I guess I owe you.”
If she felt she owed him, then he was all too happy to oblige. “You know, I like Mexican . . . ?”
She laughed and his heart did a little hop in his chest. If only he could spend the rest of his lifetime listening to that laugh. If only he could spend the rest of his lifetime seeing that stunning smile.
There has to be a way.
“Mexican?” she said.
“Sure. How about tomorrow? After I get back from the registrar's office? Say . . . five-ish?”
“What have I gotten myself into?”
“Nothing yet.”
She gave him some serious squinty eyes. “Why did you say ‘yet'?”
“I didn't mean anything by it. Honest.” He held up a hand, as if swearing in a courtroom. “Like you said, we're friends. Only friends.”
“But you asked—”
“Yes, but it was one of those insane, stupid things you do when you're not thinking straight. Either that or it might've been the bottle of wine I drank earlier.”
Her eyes went squinty. “You are a dangerous, devious man.”
He donned his best nondangerous, nondevious mien. “How could you say such a thing? All I did was accept your offer of a meal. Or maybe you hadn't meant to extend an offer to reciprocate. Perhaps that had been one of those insane, stupid things you do when you're not thinking straight? In which case, I have no expectations and you're under no obligation.”
“Oh, shut up.” She grinned. “You'll have your Mexican dinner tomorrow. Five o'clock.”
“I'm looking forward to it.”
“Fine.” She pointed an index finger at him, then flicked her eyes down to his groin area. Clearly, she'd noticed his boner. “But let me make something perfectly clear. I'm returning a kindness. There is no underlying meaning to the gesture.” Her eyes went down
there
again. Now his cock was hard. And his balls were aching. And his face was on fire. “We're friends. Only friends. And that's the way it's going to stay. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.” She flounced toward the hallway, her step much bouncier than it had ever been.
He hoped it was he who brought on that bounce. Or maybe what she'd glanced at a few times . . . Nah, couldn't be.
 
Lei's phone was ringing when she scurried into her bedroom. She shut the door, snatched up her phone, and not bothering to check the screen, hit the button, answering the call before it went to voice mail.
Expecting Rin, she said, “It's about time!”
“You've been expecting my call?” a man asked.
She knew that voice. It filled her with a strange blend of emotions. It had been at least a couple of months since she'd talked to him last. A lot had happened since then. “No, but I'm glad you called. It's about Eve—”
“I know.”
“You do?” His quick response took her by surprise, but she quickly dismissed it. Of course he'd heard. It was all over the news. And he was a federal agent—CIA. “I don't suppose you've heard anything about the case?”
“Only what's been on the news.”
“Do you think I'm in danger?” she asked, fiddling with her comforter. “Is that why you called me?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh.” Confused now, she shook her head. “Do you mean I'm not in danger? I don't understand.”
Silence.
“Lei, you received the message.”
Her blood turned to ice. What was this man up to? Was he . . . could he be . . . ? “What message?”
“A message for you.”
Her heart stopped for a split second. Then it started thumping hard and fast. Her skin instantly slicked with a cold sweat. She remembered now where she'd seen that man—the one from the funeral home. “What are you talking about?”
“I'm worried, Lei,” he said. “About the other girls. That they might be found in an alley somewhere, too. You and I both know how dangerous those men are.”
What was going on? What was he getting at? “Those men? Or someone else?”
“You owe me, Lei. It's time to pay your debt.”
Her debt? What the hell was he talking about? She didn't remember him ever mentioning she'd have to pay him back for his help. She jumped to her feet and paced back and forth in front of her bed. “I don't owe you anything.” Her insides were jumpy, skittery. And that dinner she'd just eaten felt like a huge chunk of concrete in her gut. “There was never any talk of my paying you back. We did what we did because it was the right thing. Because it was good. It was just—”
“No,
we
didn't do anything. I did it all. You didn't do a damn thing. I took all the risks. Don't you think that's worth something? Who takes those kinds of risks for nothing?”
He was right. Nobody did anything out of the kindness of their heart. Not in her world. Now, what the hell did he want?
She forced herself to inhale, even though her lungs were squeezing so tight barely anything could seep in. “So ... what do you want?”
“The Alexandre brothers have something I need. You're going to get it for me.”
She whirled around, her gaze jumping to the closed door. “What?”
“I've seen the way they look at you. They'll tell you anything. Ask them about their secret. Do whatever it takes.”
“Secret? Isn't there another—”
“If you fuck me over or tell them, Lei, you'll find yourself on trial for two murders. Eve and her lovely grandmother.”
“But... but—”
“We have witnesses who put you at the scene of both crimes. Do you think anyone will believe the testimony of someone like you? An ex-hooker?”
“I can't—”
“And your fingerprints are on the gun. Your gun. Which was found by police.”
Her gun? The one he'd given her for her protection after she'd been released? The one she'd left sitting in the trunk of her car all this time because she'd been too afraid to do anything with it?
How could I have been so stupid?
“They've helped me. Been good to me. There's got to be—”
The call cut off.
A shiver of dread quaked through her body.
She hadn't heard the last from Agent Nate Holloway. No doubt about that.
What the hell had she gotten herself into now?
Already knowing what she'd find, or rather, what she wouldn't find in her trunk, she grabbed her car keys and ran down the stairs.
 
“A second young woman's body was found in Southwest Detroit last night, this one here, behind this gas station . . .”
Lei's breakfast surged up her throat. She clapped her hand over her mouth and dashed down the hall to the bathroom. She got there just in the nick of time.

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