The Killing Game

“Greg didn’t trust the Carreras either. You know that.”


“Listen to me, Andi. Greg would want to make sure the company wasn’t in financial trouble. This is our grandfather’s company. One my dad continued, and now it’s up to us.” His voice had taken on an edge. “I don’t want to fight you, but Andi, this is important Wren business, and let’s face it, you’re really not a Wren.”

“Tell that to the Carreras,” she choked out. “They’re the ones sending me ‘little bird’ notes.”

“I don’t know what that’s about, but it’s not the Carreras.”

“I gotta go,” she said.

“Andi—”

“Oh, wait. There’s something you need to know. Luke saw that Mimi’s baby bump is a fake. So you were right about that. But you’re not right about the Carreras!”

She clicked off and dropped the phone on the table, then put her head in her hands, fighting off sobs.

Luke dropped down in front of her and said soberly, “I’m going to connect with Detective Thompkins, but it’s also high time I confronted the brothers.”

She lifted a tear-streaked face to him. “Please don’t. I appreciate it. But not now.”

“You came to me because of them.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“I don’t have to leave right this minute,” he said, though he looked like that was exactly what he wanted to do.

“I don’t know if you heard. I have a meeting on Monday with Carter, Emma, and the Carreras.”

“I heard enough.”

“Come to the meeting with me on Monday,” she said abruptly. “You can confront them there. I told Carter I wouldn’t go, but I have to. Be there with me.”

“I feel like the momentum’s now,” he tried to argue, rising to his full height.

She shook her head, gazing up at him, mutely pleading.

“I want to find the Carreras and lay our cards on the table,” he explained.

“What cards?”

“That we know about their coercion, that they’re responsible for Ted Bellows’s death, that they’re not going to take the lodge away from the Wrens.”

Andi got to her feet, facing him. She grabbed his left hand. “Don’t go.”

Luke’s jaw worked. “I can’t stand the way they’re forcing themselves on you and your sister-and brother-in-law. I want to know if they had anything to do with your friend’s death. I want to stop them.”

“Yes . . . but wait.”

“Why?”

They looked at each other for a long, tense moment. Slowly, Andi placed her hands on either side of his face. Then she leaned in and kissed him, feeling the warmth of his lips against hers.

She pulled back slowly. She could see how his eyes had darkened.

“I’m pretty sure this is a bad idea,” he said.

“I just want to feel something good.”

“I stay away from clients.”

“I stay away from everyone,” she admitted. “Greg was the anomaly, and now he’s gone.”

“My last relationship ended ugly. Still ending.”

She finally heard that. “You’re still getting over it?” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

“I’m over it. Was never really in it,” he admitted. “I’m just . . .”

“I’m going to be embarrassed tomorrow.” She took a step backward, needing space, when his arm reached for her and he dragged her back to him. Her breasts were a hairbreadth from his chest. She had to angle her face upward to meet his hungry gaze.

His hands ran up her arms to her shoulders, his grip tight. She could feel he was struggling, but then, with a sigh, his lips captured hers again. Her hands were limp at her sides as his mouth ravaged hers. She sighed in complete abandonment, her knees trembling. She wanted to make love to him until they were both exhausted.

He suddenly swept her up and carried her to the bedroom, standing her on her feet beside the bed, silently looking at her, questioning her. She could practically see the words are you sure? hanging in the air between them.

“Yes,” she said.

Then she was unbuttoning her blouse, her fingers uncoordinated with emotion, and he swept them away and took care of the duty himself. She was out of her blouse and bra before she could think, and then he was taking off his own shirt, pulling it over his head, and she was running her hands over his hard chest, her fingers drifting to the waistband of his pants.

He unbuttoned her pants and drew down the zipper, sliding the fabric smoothly down her legs. She unsnapped his fly and did the same, hungry for his body atop her, inside her.

He drew a strangled breath as he looked at her and she could tell he was going to say something, maybe another warning or denial.

She shook her head and slipped off the wisp of her underwear and, after the briefest hesitation, he drew down his boxers. They took a moment looking at each other’s bodies, and Andi could feel desire sweep through her, awakening her deadened nerves.

“If—” he started to say. She put a finger to his lips.

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