Deadly Desire (26 page)

“Jace, don’t be ridiculous.” Carrie took a timid sip of the coffee before continuing. “I’m perfectly capable of showering and getting ready for work at home. It’s not like I live far away.”

“Yes, but you’re mine,” he said, easing onto the bed beside her and staring hard into her big blue eyes. “And anyone who is mine gets the very best of things. That includes not having to do the walk of shame in the morning.”

Carrie blushed and glanced away. “About this whole
mine
thing…listen, I don’t think we should take it so literally.”

A darkness settled over Jace’s mind. “I take it very literally.”

“Jace…you know things between us are complicated.” She fingered the coffee mug, staring down at the bed, refusing to meet his eyes. “I was scared and hurt and confused last night, and I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“You’re saying you only slept with me because you were so scared.” Jace tried to keep his voice calm and steady, but he felt an anger rising within him. Not at Carrie. He could never be angry with her, no matter what she did to push him away. No, it was at whoever caused this to happen in the first place.

“No, of course not.” Carrie sucked in a breath and finally met his eyes. Confusion and pain rippled across her face, and he wanted to obliterate whoever had put those emotions there. “I just…I need to wrap my head around this, okay? I need some time to figure this out.”

“Who hurt you, Carrie?” Jace clenched his jaw and took her soft hand in his. “Who scared you?”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast.” She shook her head, eyes wide. “I went to talk to your alibi, and an old man answered the door. When I asked to see Madison, he said she didn’t live there. And then someone grabbed me and pushed me down. I think the guy may have drugged me or something to knock me out.”

“Tell me what he looked like,” Jace said in a low voice, trying to hide his anger from Carrie. He didn’t want to scare her and make the situation any worse.

She shook her head, her mussed hair falling into her gorgeous eyes. “I don’t know. I never saw him.”

Jace stood from the bed and began to pace back and forth on the carpet. Why would someone attack Carrie? It must have had something to do with Madison. He frowned. He’d been into her apartment. He remembered exactly where she lived. To hear she didn’t live there after all could only mean one thing. She’d been playing him. A part of whatever scheme had been planned to get Holland’s body into his penthouse while he’d been gone.

Carrie must have come to the same conclusion, because she looked up at him with her lips pressed into a straight line. “He said something to me. Something about you.”

“Tell me.”

“He said if I didn’t stay out of it, then he’d tell the world about our real relationship.” She looked up at Jace, looking so weak and innocent, the opposite of how she normally came across. “Someone knows about us. Or they’ve at least guessed.”

“I haven’t told a soul.” Jace made his way back over to Carrie and sunk into the bed by her side. She met his gaze so plainly, so openly. He wished he could follow suit and open up to her about his secrets, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “You know I’d never do that to you.”

“What about your assistant?” Carrie asked. “The guy who came with you to the office yesterday. He heard us arguing about how things are between us.”

Jace fell silent, thinking. Yes, he had brought Franklin along, and yes, he had been there when they’d argued. Could his assistant really do such a thing? He’d have to look into it, but in the meantime, he had to assure Carrie that everything was okay. He didn’t want her worrying more than necessary.

“Franklin is loyal. Whoever did this has only made a guess. Perhaps they know about our past and that’s it.”

Carrie frowned, twisting her hands in the sheets. Jace reached up and brushed her dark waves away from her face, his eyes drifting down to her shirt. The top two buttons were open, giving him a sensual view of her cleavage. His body ached to be inside her, to push her up against the wall and claim her as his once again.

Carrie’s breath hitched, and as he met her gaze, she licked her lips. He almost groaned from the desire that tore through him. His hands pressed down on her thighs, sliding higher and higher up her skirt toward her thong until…

His cell phone rang.

Carrie groaned and flopped back on the bed as Jace reached for the phone on his bedside table, answering in a gruff voice. Now was not the time to be interrupted, but he couldn’t miss a business call just in case his deal for the Times Square building needed his attention.

“Mr. Holt?” It was his concierge. Surely they weren’t having that much trouble with poached eggs and toast.

“Yes?”

“The police are here to see you.” The concierge cleared his throat. “They uh, they’re here to take you in for questioning.”

Carrie walked into the police station wearing day-old wrinkled clothing, smelling like sex and Jace. It wasn’t exactly the most shining moment of her professional career, and she hoped no one from the office would hear about the situation and show up for support unannounced.

Her stomach twisted as she settled into the metal seat beside Jace, laying her purse on the table. She couldn’t bear to look at him, not like this and not after last night. She still couldn’t believe she’d given in to his charms. But, more than that, she couldn’t believe that
she
had been the one to initiate things.

Jace made her judgement fly right out the window, and now here she was, representing him while he got questioned for murder after having hot sex with him the night before. But wow, she thought, it had been some great sex. She’d forgotten what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he wanted and knew just the right moves to leave you gasping for more…

“Mr. Holt. Miss Simmons.” The bulky detective gave them both a nod and settled into the chair across the table. He scratched the side of his wide face, emitting a sound like sandpaper against a chalkboard. Purple bags lined his eyes. This guy must have had less sleep than Carrie had last night. “Thank you for coming in.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” Jace’s voice was smooth like butter, but she could still hear a familiar edge in his tone, like an unexpectedly sharp knife that would slice off your skin if you weren’t too careful.

“Sir, Mr. Holt will be fully cooperating with the investigation,” she said before the detective could latch onto Jace’s frame of mind. It felt strange calling him Mr. Holt. Formal, seductive, thrilling. She crossed her legs.

“Well, there are a few questions we’d like to ask concerning your whereabouts the night of the murder.” The man shuffled his papers around. “Specifically, between the hours of eleven p.m. and one a.m. When you made the call to the police.”

Jace glanced at Carrie before speaking, his face full of stone. Completely unreadable. “I went out for some drinks at one of my regular places. Suits & Ties. You can ask Jamie, the bartender who served me. He knows me well.”

“And that was around…?” The detective scribbled a note and glanced back up at Jace, and something sharp glinted in his eye. Carrie could tell he was looking for something specific. Did the cop know something he wasn’t letting on?

“I believe I left the hotel around ten-thirty or eleven,” Jace said.

“Okay.” The detective made another note. “And then where did you go next?”

Jace made an uncomfortable noise in his throat. This was the question Carrie had been dreading. He had to tell the truth, of course. The girl he’d gone home with was his only alibi between the time he’d left the bar and the time Carrie had arrived on the scene. But, if Madison had been part of the plan to frame Jace, Carrie doubted she could be found and mentioning her would provide them both with nothing but trouble.

A crazy idea flashed into her mind. No, she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. If the police found out she lied, not only would her career be over but she could find herself in jail. Jace glanced her way, his face still hiding any thought he might have. Unbidden memories spun through her mind. Jace caressing her. Jace kissing her. Jace coming to her rescue and wrapping her up in his arms.

“He was with me,” she blurted out before the logical part of her brain could take over. “He wanted some company, so he came over to my apartment.”

Jace’s eyes bored into her skull, but she couldn’t glance at him, not now. She avoided his gaze and swallowed hard. The detective looked up from his notepad, eyebrows raised all the way up to his receding hairline.

“He was with you? His lawyer?” The man scratched his face and frowned. “At midnight?”

Carrie could hear the disbelief in his voice, and she wished she could take back her words and gobble them down. It was too late now, though. No backing out of this one.

“He’s also…well, my mother married his father about three years ago.” She winced.

The man looked back and forth between her and Jace, his mouth slightly open in surprise. What had she done? What had she been thinking? There were so many ways the cop could catch her out on this, and she needed to tread carefully if she was going to pull this off without getting completely torn apart.

“So, you were at her apartment,” the detective said, turning to address Jace as if he’d decided to write Carrie out of the conversation. “You must not have stayed there long. What made you go back to the hotel?”

Carrie froze. It was a good question, and one she hadn’t thought of when she’d blurted out the fake alibi nonsense. Why would they have gone over to The Grand Rizzato if Jace had come to see her at her place? Well, she knew a reason, but it sure wasn’t going to sound believable to the detective now that he knew they were sort of in the same family.

“I went to Carrie’s apartment to invite her to my place for some drinks.” Jace spread his hands and smiled. “Her apartment may do well for her, but I like to surround myself with nicer things, and my penthouse has a wonderful view of the city and access to only the finest wines.”

If she didn’t know he was covering for her blunder, she could really punch him right about now. The thing about Jace was, he’d probably enjoy it.

“Do you often drop by Miss Simmons’s at midnight to ask her to leave the comfort and warmth of her bed for private drinks in your penthouse apartment?”

Carrie pressed her sweaty palms against her wrinkled skirt. It sounded absolutely preposterous when he phrased it like that.

“Miss Simmons and I go back a long way,” Jace said smoothly, betraying none of the nerves Carrie felt. “We knew each other in college very well. I realized that it had been awhile since we’d spent some time together, and I thought a nice catch-up was in order. Miss Simmons is a night owl, so I knew she’d be awake.”

Carrie had to turn and stare at Jace then. It was all so perfect, so smooth. Lying came to him like second nature, and it was a little eerie how easily it was for him to spout out complete untruths under such tense situations. It made her wonder how often he did this and if he’d ever done it to her.

“So, you went back to The Grand Rizzato around…?” The detective trailed off and raised his eyebrows.

“I suppose we arrived there shortly before we called you.” Jace frowned. “It was quite upsetting to find a dead body in my kitchen. Have you managed to find any suspects?”

“And your staff can confirm your arrival,” the detective said, scratching down some more notes. “I’m assuming you have some cameras installed in the elevators for security reasons. We’ll need to check those to verify your statement.”

“We went in through the back door, so no. I don’t use the guest entrances to my hotel, and I don’t allow cameras in my accommodation area. That includes my private elevator.”

Carrie’s heart throbbed. None of this sounded good at all.

“I see.” The detective nodded and put down his pen.

“I’m assuming that will be all,” Jace said, standing from his chair and buttoning his suit jacket. Carrie may have looked like a rumpled doll, but Jace looked as crisp and handsome as usual.

“Just one more question,” the detective said, looking up at Jace with a smile. “We found a gun in your kitchen drawer. Mind telling me why it matches the ballistics of the murder weapon?”