Hot Secrets (20 page)

“That’s… that’s not necessary.”

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “I
love you, Lauren. I have since the moment I met you. I can’t be mad
at your father for bringing us together.”

She dropped her head to his chest. “I’m afraid to
believe you.”

He tilted her chin up, gently forced her to look at
him. “Then I’ll show you and tell you until you do.”

And when he expected her to push him away, she
whispered. “Promise?”

Relief washed over him and he kissed her, a deep,
passionate kiss and it took everything inside him to end it. “I
promise.”

“I’m not going to tell you I love you now,” she
said.

“Now?”

“Not now.”

“If there’s a later, I can live with that.” He wiped
smudged lipstick from her cheek. “The police aren’t involved. I
used my FBI contacts and they claimed jurisdiction and sealed the
file. No press, and I have a guy over there working this already.
He’s simply no longer doing it off the books. He’s a good man. This
will be kept quiet.”

Tension rushed from her body. “Thank you,
Royce.”

“Thank me by being safe. It’s Tuesday. Your jury
selection is still scheduled for tomorrow, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then, I’m going to work through the evidence
from last night before then. I have a feeling our guy will show up
for that. I have three men on the building. I’m one phone call
away. If you feel even a tiny bit uncomfortable, you call and I’m
here. I’ll take you home.”

Her phone rang, she dug it out of her purse and he
watched her hit ‘ignore’. She glanced up at him. “My father.
According to his five messages, he wants me to drop this case
before I get ‘everyone killed.’”

For once he was beginning to agree with the senator,
and for his own selfish reasons. He wanted Lauren safe. “I’ll walk
you upstairs and I’ll pick you up inside your office.”

***

Several hours later Lauren had finally managed to
focus on her work, and was deep in concentration when the buzzer on
her desk made her jump. She hit the button.

“Lauren?”

“Oh God, I know that tone to your voice. Who is here
that I don’t want to see?”

“Mommie Dearest,” she whispered.

“What? Why in the world… Sharon is here?”

“Oh yes.”

This was odd and unexpected. “Fine. Send her
in.”

“Good luck.”

Yeah, I’ll need it
, Lauren thought. Obviously Sharon wanted
something. It was the only time she heard from the woman. Dropping
her pen on the desk, she leaned back in her chair, hands settling
on the arms rests.

Dressed from head to toe in Chanel, her skirt short
and fitted, her perfume obnoxious, Sharon sashayed into the
office.

“Hello, darling,” she purred. ”How is my favorite
stepdaughter?”

“I’m your only stepdaughter,” Lauren reminded
her.

“Yes, dear, and that makes it even more special now,
doesn’t it?” She set her purse on a nearby chair, and moved to a
decorative mirror on Lauren’s wall, inspecting her appearance.

“What is it you want, Sharon?” Lauren asked without
any effort to hide her impatience. “I have a lot on my plate
today.”

Dabbing at her lipstick first, obviously in no
hurry, Sharon turned with a heavy sigh. “I want to talk about
Brad.”

“Brad. The house had a bomb in it last night and you
want to talk about Brad.”

“I want to talk about getting your life back on
track. Clearly, you’re spinning out of control and taking the rest
of us with you.” She sat down and crossed her legs. “And it seems
to me that now, right after you almost got us all killed, is the
perfect time to talk about real change. Quit this fool’s game you
play in this place and get serious about a bigger picture. Your
father is being urged to run for the Republic presidential card
again this term. He’s seriously considering it, but to get the
backing he needs, and that will be a massive cash influx, we must
be solid as a family. This is a greater calling, a way to change
the world. We all must make sacrifices, which means you have to
stop this thing you do here and now. Battered women deserve
sympathy, not the electric chair. You are making your father look
bad.”

Lauren stood up. “This conversation is over.”

Sharon didn’t get up. “I’ve talked to a consultant
who thinks you and Brad being pulled together by family tragedythe
loss of your mother, of course, would be a story that warms hearts.
It would show love found in the midst of pain. It would talk to the
public.”

“Are you crazy? Is your consultant crazy? That’s
practically incest.”

Sharon waved that away. “You lived in the same
household for a flutter of a moment and you are not blood related.
It’s a fairy tale.”

“Does my father know this?”

“Of course not. He is too stressed. I told him I’d
do everything. I’d clear the path to the oval office and find the
money. All he has to do is focus on his political strategy.”

“This ridiculous, insane conversation is over. I
truly think you’ve finally proven to me you are not completely of
this world, Sharon.”

“Sit down, Lauren,” she said sharply. “We are not
done. Not even close.”

Lauren glanced at her watch. “I have a meeting with
my boss in ten minutes. I need to freshen up and get going.”
Grabbing her purse, Lauren waved towards the door. “I’ll walk you
out on my way to the washroom.”

Sharon drew in a breath, her eyes blazing fire.
“Fine. I’ll talk to your father. Expect his call.” She turned and
marched for the door.

Lauren followed her to the door and watched her leave.
“
Queen
Bitch
,” Alice mumbled,
standing up and fluffing her gray hair. “I’m going to the mailroom.
That new supervisor needs to ask me a question.”

Lauren smiled weakly, aware of Alice’s crush. “Enjoy. I’m
headed to my meeting.” She followed Alice to the hallway and then
stopped in the bathroom, happy to find it empty. She paused at the
mirror, her fingers trailing over her lips, her mind replaying
Royce’s kiss, his words.
I love you, Lauren
.

She was just told to stop fighting for what she cared
about, for what she thought was right and wrong in this world. Last
night, this morning, she’d almost done that with Royce. The one
person, other than his brothers, who had told her to keep going,
who believed in what she did, in who she was.
He
felt right. He felt worth the risk. And he already
had her heart. There was no sense trying to protect it. “I love
you, too,” she whispered, unable to deny the truth.

Feeling remarkably better considering the threats,
the bomb, and a stepmother who was probably mentally ill, she
headed for the door when the fire alarm went off. Oh good grief,
not again. These test runs the building did disrupted everything.
She reached for the door and then frowned. It didn’t open. She
tried again and it didn’t move. Dropping her purse to the ground
she tugged with two hands. Nothing.

Suddenly, the alarm became a part of a new
nightmare. What if the building really was on fire? Oh, God, it
was. There was a fire, and she was going to die. She grabbed her
purse and scrambled for her phone, then hit auto-dial for Royce. No
signal. She hit every auto-dial he’d put in her phone. Nothing. She
was trapped in a burning building.

Chapter Nineteen

Royce had barely made it back to his building and
sat down at his desk in the Walker office when Blake sauntered in,
his long hair damp and slicked back, his stubble dark and
unattended.

“Nice shave,” Royce commented.

“I showered. I changed. I’m staying here today. This
is as good as it gets.” He sat down at one of the four steel desks
in the office, directly across from Royce, leaned back in his
chair, and kicked his boots up on the top.

“Morning, angels,” Luke said, shoving through the
door, his short hair neatly groomed, his face clean shaven.

Blake glanced over his shoulder at him. “Oh, yes.
Morning, angel. Kiss, kiss, and cheery sunshine happiness to you.”
He grumbled something under his breath and then said, “I just heard
from my ATF contact.”

“And?” Royce and Luke asked at the same time, as
Luke sat down on the edge of Blake’s desk.

“You know from last night that the package had an
amateur grade explosive device,” Blake said. “The interesting part
though, is that it had a timer. It’s possible that it went off at
the incorrect hour with a malfunction. But,” he sat up, “think
about this. A package that went off in the middle of the night when
everyone was asleep. A snake that wasn’t poisonous. And this bomb
wasn’t directed at Lauren.”

“Two days before she starts jury selection,” Royce
commented.

“Right,” Luke said. “She hasn’t scared off yet, so
the pressure increases.”

“This doesn’t mean she’s not in danger,” Blake said.
“This could be some sadistic bastard who wants to torment her
before he kills her.”

Royce shot him a glowering look. “Thanks for the ice
water in the face.”

“Anytime bro,” Blake said.

“Could be a sick obsession with her,” Luke said.
“This guy”

“Or woman,” Royce inserted. “It could be a
woman.”

“Either way,” Luke said, going back to his prior
thought. “He filmed her. He followed her. He watched her.”

Royce pushed to his feet and walked to the glass
door of the small office, the only window to the street, staring
out at the people passing by without seeing them. The clear way
this person was stalking Lauren was eating him alive. “And we have
nothing but a long list of suspects,” Royce murmured, half to
himself, before turning. “We need an end game, damn it. We need it
now.”

“We know he, or she, is after Lauren,” Blake said.
“Make her bait. Set her up in the open in a way that doesn’t seem
planned and bring him to her.”

“Oh, what the fuck, Blake?” Royce said, stepping
towards him, anger curling inside him ready to explode.

Blake jumped to his feet and met Royce toe-to-toe.
“End this, Royce. End it before this SOB ends it for her and
us.”

Luke stepped between them, hands on both of their
chest. “Enough. This does us no good.”

“Damn it, Blake,” Royce said, ignoring Luke. “This
isn’t the woman you love or you wouldn’t say shit like that.”

”No,” Blake hissed as if burned. “The woman I loved
is dead. I don’t want Lauren to join her.”

Royce felt the slap of those words, the instant
deflation of his temper. He scrubbed his face and turned back to
the glass door, pressing his hands to the surface, feeling more
helpless than he’d felt in his entire FBI career.

“Let’s just eliminate suspects,” Luke suggested.
“Sheridan’s brother is in Germany. He’s not our guy unless he
contracted a professional.”

“Which means he could still be our guy,” Blake said,
the chair creaking with his weight. “The one who can call off a
contract to kill Lauren, if one exists. Anyone could have
contracted a professional. That means the list is too damn long to
do this. We aren’t going to get answers quick enough. Gamble on the
trial. It’s about this week, about what is current and what is
now.”

“Sheridan’s execution” Luke started.

“
Has been minutes from happening several times before now,”
Blake argued, “and nothing happened. This is about
this
trial
.”

“He’s right,” Royce said, turning around, his gaze
touching Blake’s. “You’re right. It’s about the trial. Everything
else is a diversion.”

“The trial could be the diversion,” Luke countered.
“I don’t think being short sighted is the answer here.”

“Who has the most to lose or gain from this trial or
the diversion it might cause?” Blake asked. “The top three names
that come to your mind, Royce.”

“The brother,” Royce said. “He hates her. If I had
to gamble, I’d put his name in all three spots.”

“I put a man on him after you visited him,” Luke
said. ”We have nothing to say he’s the one. Nothing.”

“It’s him,” Royce said. “And he knows he’s being
watched. You can count on it.” He glanced at Luke. “Did we get his
military record?”

“I’ve tried,” he said. “It’s being guarded tightly
which tells me he’s a very bad dude, or he’s so damn good that he’s
involved with some deep government shit.”

“Or both,” Royce said.

Luke’s cell phone rang and he answered it, then
snapped it shut. “Lauren’s building is being evacuated. People are
pouring out of it.”

“Lauren?”

“The crush of people is too intense,” Luke said.
“Our guys are working with the building security and the police to
locate her.”

Royce was pushing open the glass door before Luke
ever finished the sentence, not about to risk New York traffic
delays to get to Lauren. He dialed her phone, cursing himself for
trusting someone else to protect her.

“I’m coming with you,” Blake said following on his
heels. “If it’s a bomb again, I want to be there.”

Royce cursed and shoved his phone back to his belt.
“Her phone went straight to voice mail.” He cut to the left and
down the subway stairs.

“We have three men there,” Blake told him, keeping
pace. “She’s okay.”

“I should never have left her with someone else,” he
said, piling into the crush of people inside a car.

The next six minutes in the tunnel were hell for
Royce. The car stopped and he burst out of the door and jumped the
exit gates, Blake by his side. It was a block to the building and
the instant Royce brought the fire trucks and police cars into
view, he cursed and picked up speed, heading for the yellow tape
and the gaggle of officials.

“I’m going in in case she’s still up there,” Royce
shouted, his gut telling him she was in there, that she needed
him.