What You Can't See (26 page)

The heavy wrought-iron gates swung open and the Jeep rolled through. As delta minimansions went the Krupps’ was one of the finest.

When the Jeep stopped in the wide circular driveway, Zach pulled the emergency brake, and turned to Danica, catching her angry gaze. He knew what she was thinking. And his blood surged.

He looked up to the second-floor balcony. They’d spent a lot of time in that room tearing up the sheets.

D
ANICA DISARMED THE ALARM
and waved Zach into the garage where he pulled the Jeep in between the twin Bentleys. Looked like being a Krupp was profitable. Good for them. He’d always enjoyed their company, and after the ugly breakup, Marcie had come by his place, told him off then hugged him and wished him well, but not before she told him never to come near her friend again.

Inexplicably he reached behind to the small of his back and rested his hand on the sword. The hilt felt cool to his touch. He thought of the star in Mark’s hands. His blood surged as the vision of him holding the scabbard to Danica’s throat replayed in his brain. Zach would take extreme pleasure in relieving Mark of the star but before he did he would relish the moment he plunged the sword deep into Santos’s Immortal heart.

Zach pulled the sword from its resting place and held it in the palm of his hand. The gold tempering aside, there was nothing extraordinary about it. Except…he narrowed his eyes and focused on the symbols etched on the blade just below the hilt. The same symbols as on the box the scabbard and star arrived in. What did they mean? And how the hell was he going to get the star back from Santos? Just walk in and take it?

Zach traced his index finger along the edge of the blade; it was so sharp that when it sliced his skin, he was only aware of it after blood beaded at his fingertip. He nodded in silent alliance with the blade. He sucked the blood from his finger.

He had his answer. The only way to get the star was to draw blood for it.

As he entered the house through the garage with the sword in hand, he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. How the hell was he going to convince Danica they were destined to be together? And if by some remote chance that occurred, how was he going to get them both off for the cop killings? Shit. He clenched the sword and raised it skyward. “Thanks a lot, Mikey.”

With great effort he cleared his thoughts of Michael and his mission, and instead stood in the wide circular entryway and took in his surroundings. The inside of the minimansion was as Zach remembered it: open, airy, classic Italian décor. Lots of potted plants and granite.

Zach crossed the granite floor, the tips of the live ferns wisping across his shoulders, silently giving him permission to be there, and walked toward the back of the house into the kitchen with what he knew was a panoramic view of the deep water. He smiled. Danica presented quite the pretty picture as she gazed out the big window. She’d removed her jacket and her ass was clearly defined in the black pants she wore. “Where is the safe?” he asked.

Danica started and turned around to face him, the scabbard clasped to her heart. She gave him that look that said,
Don’t bother me, I’m too busy hating you.

“The safe, Danica?”

“In the pantry. There’s a box of Wheaties. It’s fake. Slide it to the side.” She walked toward him slowly, as if she feared she’d go up in flames if she got too close. Zach cringed. Maybe she would, and after everything she’d been through he could not blame her in the least for wanting nothing to do with him. He wouldn’t either. Grudgingly she handed the scabbard to him. “The combination is 714 plus the house number.”

“What’s the house number?”

“Go outside and check for yourself.” She strode past him, her nose high in the air, her attitude imperious.

“I’m ordering pizza,” Zach called after her.

Danica stopped, nodded and pointed to the drawer next to Zach. “In there, menus.”

Zach smiled. “I remember.”

“Good, then you remember what I like.” She walked haughtily out of the room and debated whether to run as far and as fast as her legs would carry her from Zach, or stay and kill him.

Slowly she ascended the sweeping stairway. The adrenaline rush of the afternoon slowly subsided, as well as the shock of what she’d witnessed. She stopped mid step and squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. Her legs suddenly felt leaden as she continued up the stairway. Why didn’t she call the cops? Right now.
This instant.

Mark’s sinister face flashed in her mind’s eye. Fooled again! When had Mark gone bad? Had Zach rubbed off on him? No, as bad as Zach was, he’d never possessed the pure malevolence she saw in Mark’s eyes tonight. She shivered.

Zach had saved her life. He’d gone for her, not the scabbard. She stopped at the landing, her heart racing. Was it possible Zach did care for her? The pounding in her chest intensified. It didn’t matter what Zach had done tonight. He had not atoned for what he did to her in the past. And for that she could never forgive him.

No, what she wanted was for Zach to be gone from her life. Her comfortably numb state of the past three years was better than this crazy emotional roller coaster she’d been on today.

Then she wondered who the hell she was trying to convince. Even after all this time and even with all of the pain, resentment, and upheaval that came with any association with Zach Garett, Danica had always felt something more, something deeper. After she was fired and he walked out of her life, he never offered an explanation—nothing, only a cold indifference. There had been no concrete closure. They had unfinished business.

The Zach she knew, the man she loved, would
never
have stood silently by while she got the royal shaft. And knowing that?…Like a fool she’d always held out hope for him. Hoping that maybe somehow, someday, he would come through for her. He never had.

Never once in the three years since she last saw him had he made any attempt to contact her. Until today. And it wasn’t because of her, it was because of some relic!

Jesus, what had he sucked her into? Why wouldn’t he tell her? She knew why. It was another one of his nefarious doings. And now he had her as an unwilling accomplice. Did he have some half-baked scheme to sell the sword and the scabbard to the highest bidder? It had obvious value. Both Mark and Zach were willing to kill for it—Zach had, Mark nearly did. If Zach didn’t come up with answers that made sense she was going to the cops.

She pressed her fingertips to her temples. Her heart hurt. She was so tired.

She just wanted to sleep forever. Danica hesitated as she stepped through the threshold to her bedroom. Memories of her and Zach in this room, in this bed, their hot sweaty bodies undulating, panting, and wanting more, evaporated as another vision crowded in: one of her sitting in the corner crying for hours, her eyes swollen shut, her throat raw, her heart broken, until finally Marcie, having had enough of her failure to engage with the living, burst into the room, grabbed her by the wrists, and tossed her sorry ass into a very cold shower. She was told not to come out until she was ready to live again.

Marcie had been right. Marcie was always right. Except when she’d told Danica she knew in her heart Zach was a good man. “Hah! Good man, my ass.”

She strode into the room with a defiant sneer. Screw Zach Garett and screw the Oakland police department.

She stripped and turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it. It felt good, the hot pulse of water sluicing down her back, loosening tense muscles. She’d raid Marcie’s closet for something decent to wear. As she lathered up a soft squishy sponge Danica smiled for the first time in three days. Maybe just for the hell of it she’d put something sexy on, and see how much information she could get out of Zach that way. He might be using her for reasons unknown, but she knew lust in a man’s eyes when she saw it, and Zach stilled lusted after her. Would serve him right to feel a little pain while she got the information she wanted. Her skin flushed. And if she were honest with herself, since he kissed her in her office this afternoon she couldn’t stop remembering how good he felt. She missed that physical connection they shared almost as much as she missed the man she thought loved her.

Zach was just pouring a glass of wine when he looked up and Danica walked, no, floated into the room. She’d lost weight since they broke up. But her curves were still there and the hip-hugger white sweats and midriff top she wore did nothing to hide them. In fact, as he watched her breasts softly bounce and her long hair fall in a veil around her, he thought she looked totally fuckable. His dick swelled in agreement.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Garett.” She swiped the full glass of wine from under his nose and walked toward the deck. Lights twinkled on the water, little stars in their own universe. Letting out a long sigh she took a sip of the wine. The smooth cherry bouquet followed by an oak finish slid over her tongue, warm and rich. She swirled the wine in the glass, opened the slider then stepped onto the deck. Cool air wafted around her sultry body, her skin shivered. She leaned forward against the rail and sipped her wine again.

She stared off into the darkness, the only allusion to water the occasional silver cap of a ripple caught under the dock lights. Amazing. Here she was in a veritable Garden of Eden and less than three hours ago she’d been in a fight for her life.

Her years as a cop had kept her head level and her emotions in check, but the adrenaline rush that went with it? It had only begun to fully subside in the shower. She told herself she would not make a rash decision until the rush ebbed and she could think straight.

And now it was time. She groaned. The mere thought of making sense of what happened today gave her a migraine. As unpleasant as the task was, she pushed through the barriers of denial and gave the events her full attention.

Zach had killed two cops. The circumstances might be otherworldly but a kill was a kill was a kill. And he had done it with no compunction. He had those two cops’ throats slit before they’d fully drawn their weapons. He was a freaking rogue cop they had come to arrest, and instead they were dead.

And Mark? She didn’t know what to think about Mark, except after today he obviously was not the friend she thought he was. No, there was something dark and sinister in him, a side of him she’d never seen. Hell, he’d tried to kill her! Self-loathing rose in her belly. Was she such a blind fool when it came to men?

But Zach had saved her…

Danica’s mood shifted into high gear the minute he stepped onto the deck. Her nostrils flared and her skin flushed warm. He had that effect on her. His energy circled her, enveloping in its power, as if to say,
You can run from me but you can’t hide.

Ah, but she could run, and she could hide. If she really wanted to. Danica turned to tell him she wanted the truth. Now. And to tell him he meant nothing to her, she was over him, she’d moved on, but then he was there, big, warm, overpowering. He whispered her name and slid his fingers deep into her hair.

“Don’t, Zach,” she whispered, even as her back arched and her sensitive nipples scraped against his chest.

“Let me touch you, Dani, just this once.”

Just once? Her heart pounded. She wanted so much more. She moaned, “Just a kiss.”

He pulled her head up to his, his lips warm, soft, and firm, pressed against hers. The sensation generated electric shards that zapped straight to her core. Good Lord, she had forgotten how good he could make her feel. Danica melted against him, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. And the moment felt so much better than the hell she’d been living in for the last three years.

And so she opened her mouth and let him in. He tasted as he always had. Sexy, dangerous, all male. His power and strength made her feel every bit female. He was possessive, marking her, letting all other males in the vicinity know who she belonged to.

His tongue swirled against hers. The hot liquid of his kiss stirred her. She hadn’t allowed another man near her much less in her bed since Zach, and precious few before him.

His hands slid from her face to her shoulders. She managed to set her wineglass down on the flat rail. Because she missed the feel of him, she slid her hands up his waist and over the angled planes of his chest. His muscles bulged under her fingers. He was in impeccable shape and she marveled again how he had recovered so quickly from his accident.

Zach’s hands slid around her bare waist and to the top of her ass. His fingers splayed and grabbed each lobe and pressed her hips against the ridge in his jeans. She broke her lips from his, and looked up into his eyes. They glittered hard in passion under the deck lights. Predatory.

Danica flinched, knowing heartache would follow if she proceeded.

He gave her no time to think. His mouth crushed down on hers again and this time she gasped. He sucked the breath from her. She trembled, the urgency of his kiss scared her. She had no intention of going past a kiss…But his assault left her hungry for so much more.

Zach’s hands slid beneath her sweats. She moaned, she couldn’t help it. His big warm hands massaging her ass so close to her core had her wet and hot. She pushed back against the railing, her arms bracing her. The wineglass tumbled into the water, and Zach’s mouth ravaged her neck. Her back arched and her breasts smashed against his chest. His hands came up from her ass to her waist then around.

When they captured her naked breasts, Danica moaned and surged against his hands. He pushed up the midriff top and she almost died when his lips clamped down on a nipple. He groaned and pulled her tighter toward him. His free hand slid around her waist. With the exception of penetration they could not be physically closer.

“Zach,” she breathed, “stop.”

“I can’t.”

His hand slid down her waist, to her belly button then lower. She gasped again. Her nether parts twitched and clenched and she felt a warm wetness. His big hand cupped her mound and she undulated against him.
This was crazy.

She jerked in his arms, wanting to stop but wanting more to continue. It had been so long.

And so she gave herself permission to indulge in this man. Just once. Just tonight.

His big hand splayed across her lower belly and pressed just as his teeth nipped at her throat. “I never stopped wanting you,” he said. She hung suspended in his arms, a rag doll.

Neither had she.

His hand slipped between her pants and skin. She spread her legs in a wanton act of desire. She closed her eyes tight and gave in to her addiction to him. He rubbed her slick folds and Danica’s knees buckled. He tightened his arm around her waist and as he brought her up closer to his chest he dipped a thick finger inside her. Danica cried out. The sublime pleasure of it all was too much. A sob welled up in her chest.