Sinful Desire

Ryan nodded as John said, “Yes.”

John went next, pointing to Ryan. “Why are you talking to my sister?” His voice was accusing. The tone was enough to send hackles up her spine.

Sophie held up both hands. “Wait,” she said firmly. “Someone tell me what is going on.”

Ryan pushed back his chair, the wooden legs scraping loudly against the floor. “We know each other because he’s working on a case that involves my family.” He took long strides to her. “My father’s murder.”

Sophie clasped her hand over her mouth. She shuddered, but then blinked when she realized something didn’t add up. “You said you were fourteen when he died?”

“I was,” Ryan said, standing a few feet from her. He pressed his fingers against his temple, speaking the next words as if they pained him. “He was shot in the driveway of our home one night. Both the gunman and my mother are in prison for the crime. The case was just reopened.”

Sophie’s mouth fell open, and the earth ceased rotating as the enormity of his statement rocked through her. Slowly, she let each word soak in. That was a hell of a hand of cards to be dealt. She couldn’t even imagine what he’d gone through, living with that kind of tragedy. To think, she’d once pictured Ryan’s mom missing her husband, not serving hard time for offing him. This was so much bigger, so much heavier.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said, reaching for him, stepping closer, her natural instinct to comfort surpassing all else.

He shook his head. “It’s okay,” Ryan mumbled, his body language telling her he didn’t want soothing.

“I had no idea,” she said softly.

“Of course you had no idea. I don’t really talk about it,” he said, crossing his arms.

“But even so, I feel terrible that this happened to you.”

“Don’t.”

In that one word, she heard a man who didn’t want sympathy. Who didn’t think he needed it. She also understood all his walls—and oh hell, did he have them.

“We reopened the investigation a few weeks ago due to new evidence,” John added, stepping closer to Sophie, flanking her, as if he needed to protect her from Ryan. Perhaps he did.

Because it seemed she hardly knew the man she’d just spent the evening with. But she knew her brother. Her mind galloped over the last several conversations she’d had with John. She spun to face her brother, adding up the clues. “This is the case you’ve been working on?”

He nodded. “One of them. One of the big ones.”

She turned her gaze back to Ryan, and for the first time ever he didn’t look in control. He didn’t appear cool, or confident, or passionate. He seemed rattled, as if he’d been knocked out of orbit.

He also looked like a stranger.

He felt like one, too.

Something clicked in her head. “Hawthorne,” she said under her breath. “Is that why you went to Hawthorne?”

John cut in before Ryan could answer. “He visited his mother on Wednesday at Stella McLaren. He actually passed on some info to me later that day that may wind up being useful,” John said, a bit grudgingly, but still with some gratitude in his tone.

“You don’t do security for the prison like you said?” she asked Ryan as she furrowed her brow. He’d lied. Maybe it was a small one, but it was still a lie.

He shook his head. “The prison’s not a client. I went there to see my mom. She’s been in since I was fourteen,” he said, his voice heavy, laced with shame and sadness.

Sophie felt neither of those emotions. She simply felt…fooled. Here were these men, talking to each other, knowing things, sharing intensely personal details, and she hadn’t a clue. She wanted to experience this moment honestly. She wanted to feel all the things one should feel when learning something like this. But information was coming at her in bizarre ways, rather than through her lover sharing directly, as she’d done with him.

“I have a question, and it’s pretty important, as far as I can tell,” John said, cocking his head and staring at Ryan. “How long have you been involved with my sister?”

“Over a week. I met her the day I went to—”

“That’s why you were at the municipal building?” Sophie asked, crossing her arms. “The day I met you? You were going to see my brother?”

“I didn’t know he was your brother then,” Ryan answered defensively. “I didn’t have a clue you two were connected. All I knew when I met you was that I wanted you.”

John cleared his throat. “I left my phone charger in the guest room. That’s why I stopped by. I’m going to get that right now,” he said then stopped to look at Sophie. “Unless you want me here in this room.”

She waved him down the hall. Once she heard the door to the guest room shut, she spoke. “When did you know the detective investigating your father’s case was my brother?”

He gulped. “When I looked you up before the gala,” he said, and her blood turned to ice. Now that she’d moved beyond the initial desire to comfort him she felt…used.