Dead Don't Lie (12 page)

She laughed through the tears. “My therapist kept telling me I needed to share my story with people other than Kate and Ryan. That it’d be good for me, for my healing and all. Who knew that someone would be you?”

She pulled her hands from his. He instantly missed her warm touch. Stepping away to give her space, shock ripped through him.
Had he just been granted access to her inner circle?
His palms got clammy.

“I think I need another glass of wine.” She rose and walked to the door.

He followed her. He had so many questions, but she’d shared all she could right now. He sensed that in the way she moved to distance herself from the wall, the memories. He’d respect her privacy.

She let him leave the room in front of her, then flipped off the light and tugged the door closed. They stood close in the tiny hall.

Tipping back her head, she looked up at him, eyes misty. “Tread lightly, okay?”

She turned and went down the stairs in front of him.
Tread lightly?
Of course he’d tread lightly. She’d endured more pain, more heartache at the tender age of eighteen, than most people experienced in a lifetime. The sheer thought that she’d have to endure any more made him see red. He’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her.

They sat in her living room. He lounged in one of the armchairs. She was curled up on the sofa, cradling her Malbec, her feet tucked up underneath her. The fire crackled in the fireplace as they finished the wine. His mind reeled at what he’d just seen in that room, at what she had gone through and how extraordinary she was.

There was still just one question that bothered him. He didn’t want to push, but she’d let him into such an intimate, precious part of her life already that he couldn’t see her minding just one more question. At least he
hoped
she wouldn’t. He swallowed hard.

“None of that’s in your file. Why?”

“I know.” She ran her finger around the edge of her glass. “It was part of a two-part deal to come here.”

He cocked his head.
Two-part deal? What the hell?

“I’d been in San Diego, a fresh-faced rookie. My captain kept mentioning how much potential I had. Coming from my background, you have two choices—let it cripple you, or harness it and
you
define it. I’d chosen to take my experience and channel it into my job. It seemed simple to me. Apparently my captain saw me as his golden child.”

That same coolness he’d seen when she’d gone toe-to-toe with him that first day in the conference room descended now.

“Then my training officer found out about my past and everything changed. When other people, especially other law enforcement agents—male, female, it didn’t really matter—found out about my past, I changed in their eyes, went from being this sought-after officer to a helpless victim. Infuriating. But, human nature, or so at least I’m told.” She rolled her eyes and took another sip. “I don’t know if it’s because we’ve all seen so much evil on this job that it’s hard to believe anyone can separate themselves from such personal horror. But I hate it.”

He couldn’t blame her.

She stared into the fire. “Anyway, my captain in San Diego and the chief here, who was a captain then, are great friends. He asked me to think about transferring to Seattle under Diaz. I agreed to come here as long as that part of my past was classified. It wasn’t meant to be misleading or deceitful. I simply wanted the opportunity to stand on my own, to prove myself as a solid cop, because of who I am
now
. I didn’t want my past clouding people’s perception of me.”

Marcus nodded. “That seems fair.”

She shook her head and laughed. Then she set her glass down and smiled at him. The tender look melted his insides. He wanted this woman more than he’d wanted any other woman in his life. It took every inch of willpower not to go to her right now.

“Thanks for stopping over tonight, Marcus.”

And just like that, he knew she’d ended their evening. He sighed.
Probably for the best.
If he stayed much longer, he’d be taking her back upstairs, and that would most definitely be crossing the professional boundary she’d so firmly set in place.

There would be time for that. He’d make sure of it.

He put down his glass on the side table, got up and stretched. He grabbed his jacket on the way to the door, but before he turned the knob, he said, “I can stay.”

Smooth, Moretti. Smooth
.

“Marcus.” His name came out in a soft whisper, one that held so much promise and so much pain.

He turned, could see her internal struggle and felt like a jackass. He knew she held herself responsible to these families. Hadn’t she just finished telling him so not two hours ago?

She twisted her hands in front of her. “I want you, too. I do. But not until this case is closed. I couldn’t live with myself if this—” she motioned between the two of them “—whatever this is, jeopardized the case.”

A strange mixture of disappointment and pride crushed him. He wanted to stay, to take her in his arms and take away the hurt she’d carried all these years. But he also respected her too much to ask her to choose between her dedication to this case and him. So he’d wait.

Her inner strength amazed him. She was definitely worth the wait.

He nodded, then opened the door. “Okay, then, after this case.”

“Marcus?”

He turned.

She stepped onto the porch. Shutting the door behind her, she walked into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She smelled like lavender. He breathed deeply, seared this moment into his mind. He felt the rapid drumming of her heart, its beat matching his own.

How was it that he’d fallen for this woman so completely?

She sighed into his chest, drew back and looked up at him.

Screw the professional line.
He cupped her chin with his hands, stared into her eyes and got lost in their sapphire depths. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. He wasn’t sure how she’d respond to his kiss, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting the reaction he got. Instead of withdrawing from him, she threw her arms around his neck, pressed her body close, with no hesitation, and returned his touch.

He came up for air first, then grinned at her. She sheepishly returned the gesture, color staining her cheeks.

“After this case,” he said. It was a promise.

Her eyes lit up. “After the case, then.”

She laughed, the sound light and free in the cool air of the quiet street. Fumbling for the doorknob behind her, she opened the door with one hand, without breaking his gaze. She stepped over the threshold, touched her lips, playfully winked and shut the door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

E
VELYN
SLUMPED
AGAINST
the closed door, heart pounding. She hadn’t been prepared to rehash her family’s murder tonight. But Marcus had come after her, to check on her despite that ridiculously embarrassing blowup with Sanderson, hadn’t he? And seeing his car at the curb had not only shocked her—if she were being completely honest with herself—but had also sent a thrill down her spine. She could have ignored the doorbell and all that followed, including the conversation that ripped her heart to shreds—again. She could have. But she hadn’t. She’d made a decision to open the door. With that one motion, he’d walked straight into her home. And her heart.

She couldn’t blame him for asking what made her tick. She’d have done the same. And she could’ve given him some stock answer. But he’d been sitting there, looking all handsome, kind,
safe
.

Not to mention that she’d been the one demanding they lay everything on the table when it came to this case. And this—the pain, the brutal memories, the blackest recess of her soul laid bare—was part of that. That wall and what it represented made her the woman she was, the detective she was. Over dinner, she’d known she needed to come clean and let him in.

And she didn’t regret that decision. She just hadn’t realized that, with each word she spoke, a hot dagger would slice deeper and deeper into her heart. Then he’d been there, not shrinking back, but moving toward her, touching her, giving her the thing she craved the most. Soft human contact.

Her heart had surged when he’d asked to stay. She wanted him to, more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time. She’d let him into her past, and that meant something. But she wasn’t sure she could let him into her present. Not with her family’s case still cold. She couldn’t ask him to walk that with her, could she? So she’d said no.

Kate’s question—
Isn’t that his choice?
—had played back in her head as she watched him walk out her door. So she’d moved to him, into his arms and off a cliff.

Now she was falling. She hoped he’d be the man she thought he was and catch her.

She leaned her head against the door. She’d just let the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on walk out the door.
After
he’d asked to stay. Clearly she was insane.

What the hell was wrong with her?

“Just open the door, Davis,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “It’s not rocket science.”

The job had always taken precedent over every area of her life. And if it wasn’t the current investigation that denied her the soft contact she secretly craved, it was her family’s cold case that separated her from the rest of society, left her alone. She’d never thought it an issue.

Until now. Until Marcus.

But it didn’t have to be. At least not tonight. It
was
his choice, and he’d asked to stay. So why the hell was her door still shut? She took a deep breath, threw open the door and flipped on the porch light.

“Marcus?”

He stopped and turned around. His head cocked to the side, but he didn’t move. Her heart sank at his hesitation.
Please come back
.

He walked toward her, his gaze never leaving her face.

Her stomach tightened. “Marcus, I—”

His mouth found hers. A helpless breath escaped her as Marcus reached under her tank top and caressed her ribs with one hand. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted him—needed him—until his lips met hers. A sharp desire surged through her. Her skin burned where he touched.

Showering her with kisses, Marcus pushed her inside, kicked the door closed behind them and nuzzled his lips against her throat.

She pressed herself closer. She couldn’t tell where her body ended and his began. Marcus pulled back. A soft whimper of protest bubbled up from her. He tipped her head up and locked eyes with her. Everything else fell away as she got lost in the fire staring down at her.

“You sure?” His voice sounded hoarse, strained.

She looked up at him and studied his face, then nodded.

Passion pooled like dark ink in his warm chocolate eyes. She’d never noticed the tiny flecks of gold that flickered in the deep brown before. Then again, she’d never been this close to him, either. His five o’clock shadow peppered his face and emphasized his strong features. This was exactly where she wanted to be: with this man, in this moment. Nothing else mattered but being here with him. She needed him, craved not just human contact, but
his
contact. A deep, primal hunger to be touched and loved by him sent tremors through her. She stretched out her hand tentatively.

He seemed to sense her need and cupped her face, gently kissing her. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when she’d asked him to stay, but the soft, tender touch surprised her, propelled a wave of electricity through her. Every cell sizzled, burst with desire. She couldn’t move.

“Evelyn.” He dropped his hand.

“Don’t talk.” She shook her head, reached for him. “Just kiss me.”

Burning, possessive lips crushed hers. His heart hammered against her chest, and she felt his heat pressed against her. All hesitation vanished. Her mouth parted, inviting him closer. He didn’t waver, answering ravenously. She sensed his feverish pitch and matched him.

Passion for passion.

She shoved off his jacket, went for his shirt, then his belt. They stumbled and fell into a heap on the sofa. He slid his knees on either side of Evelyn, pinning her underneath him. She smiled, reached up and lowered his face to hers. Kissing him hard, she tasted the tartness of her favorite Malbec and felt the softness of his tongue. He murmured her name against her mouth as she entwined her fingers in his curls, tugging him closer.

He stopped, yanked his shirt over his head and let it drop on the floor. Eyes locked with hers, he stood and kicked off his shoes, then unzipped and slipped off his jeans. Her mouth dropped open as she blatantly stared.

His broad shoulders rose and fell with each breath. Tight muscles rippled down his perfectly proportioned frame. He was beautiful. He was all man.

And all hers.

She sat up and extended her hand toward him, desperate to touch the bronzed, solid body in front of her. Mesmerized, she rose from the sofa and yanked at her shirt, anxious to feel his skin against hers. He grabbed her hand and pushed it away.

Her brows furrowed. Was he changing his mind?

He shook his head and grinned. “I’ll take care of that.”

She smiled and raised her arms, allowing him to slowly pull her tank up and off her body. His fingertips skimmed her skin, the feathery touch sending heat through her veins. Without breaking her gaze, he tugged her yoga pants off, then her panties. The air felt cool against her exposed skin.

His hands slid down her arms. He brushed his fingers along her waist, back up her ribs and skimmed his hand between her breasts. Evelyn squirmed as with one hand, he swept his fingers down her hips. He cupped her breast with the other. She shivered at his light touch and reached out to stroke his taut stomach. She tried to move closer, eager to feel his body against hers—skin to skin.

He shoved her hands away again, lowered his head to her neck and trailed his lips from her ear down her throat. A soft groan escaped her as she went from simmering to boiling in T-minus two seconds.

Marcus lowered them to the plush carpet in front of the fireplace. He pushed her onto her back, crawled after her and gently spread her legs wide with his knee. She threw her arms around his neck and hungrily tugged him to her, kissing him with a ferocious desire she didn’t know she possessed.

And she was. Possessed. By him.

As the fire crackled, he caressed her face, looking into her eyes before devouring her mouth again. He matched her passion, satisfied her need. She pulled away, breathless. Her fingers followed the muscles in his shoulders as his lips memorized every inch of her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Marcus whispered into her ear.

He caught her wrists in one hand and yanked her arms over her head. Pinning her, he lowered his head and kissed her again. Then traced her collarbone with his tongue. Her body arched at the sensual touch. He peppered her with soft kisses and worked his way south. Her breath hitched.

She couldn’t wait. Wanted more. Craved it all. Now.

Wriggling free of his grasp, she reached down and pulled him back up to meet her mouth. He held his rock-hard body over hers as she kissed him. He was close enough for her to feel his warmth without overwhelming her under his weight.

But that wasn’t enough. She needed him on her, in her, surrounding her, filling her.

“I want you now.” She clutched his neck and crushed him to her, kissing him hard.

He chuckled against her lips. He drew away, looked down at her and grinned. “With pleasure.”

She wrapped her leg around him and lifted her hips as his hard body crashed into hers. They moved as one in perfect sync, as if they’d always known each other. Heat tore through her, melted her insides. Desperation drove her against him.

Their shared rhythm intensified, and they rode the swell until it exploded. Evelyn moaned a helpless cry of release, pushing harder, and dug her nails into Marcus’s back. She held on as if he were a lifeline. Marcus dropped his head to her shoulder and shuddered.

Her blood thumped loudly in her ears as she caught her breath. Marcus kissed her forehead, then gently lowered himself onto her. She breathed in his smell and they lay like that for a moment before he rolled to the side, wrapping his arm around her and tucking her against him. Evelyn’s body curved into his and he kissed the top of her head.

“Whoa,” he murmured into the back of her neck.

Evelyn smiled, turned over and snuggled herself into the crook of his shoulder. She lazily traced her finger across his chest muscles. She felt his heartbeat skip, then steady and fall in line with hers. The fire popped and hissed. She smiled.
Whoa
was right. She couldn’t have agreed more.

He gently swept her hair away, exposing her bare shoulder, and gently pressed his lips to her skin. The touch was feathery and he traced his fingers down her side, following the curves of her body. Then he shifted, and her eyes widened as he stood. Her heart took off as she sized him up and saw his eagerness. “Really? Again?”

“Really.”

A startled gasp escaped her mouth as he suddenly scooped her into his arms. “Sweetheart, that was just to get it out of our systems. Now I’m going to show you a really good time.”

Because that wasn’t a good time? Holy crap.

She threw her arms around his neck, showering him with tender kisses as he carried her up the stairs.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, Evelyn woke with a start. She groaned. What had she done last night
?
Marcus walked in from the bathroom half-naked, answering her silent question. Vivid memories flooded her mind, and her skin tingled as she stared at his toned body. She sat up, hugging the sheet around her, suddenly shy.

“Morning.”

“Morning, sexy.” He tugged on his shirt, leaned over and softly kissed her. The gentleness morphed into something more, something hot. He pulled back, grinned down at her. “As much as I want to tumble into bed with you and repeat last night’s performance, I need to go. Showing up at the station together may set tongues wagging. And the only tongue I want to set wagging is yours.”

“That would definitely complicate things,” she whispered.
As if this isn’t complicated enough.

“Not for me, it wouldn’t.” He chuckled and kissed her again. “I’ll see you soon.”

Evelyn watched Marcus leave. She touched her lips again, remembering the heat of his goodbye kiss, then did something she hadn’t done since she was eighteen. She flopped back onto her pillow and giggled.