*
Griff didn’t try to draw Carmen into conversation as they drove toward the center of town. Her face was pale, her eyes dark with the wounds he’d forced her to reopen.
Leaving the truck in the hands of the uniformed valet, he wrapped his arm around Carmen’s shoulders and led her through the double glass doors. They angled across the expansive lobby that was festively decorated for the holidays, and hit the bank of elevators.
A few minutes later they were safely enclosed in the privacy of their room.
Griff moved to the desk near the window that overlooked the city and opened his computer. Behind him he could sense Carmen wandering around the large suite that was designed in muted shades of tan and brown. It was an old-school hotel that had once catered to the wealthy travelers, and later to businessmen who demanded the finest accommodations.
The elegance of a bygone era remained, along with a solid masculinity that was rare in newer hotels.
At last her aimless circles led her to stand next to his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He pulled up one of the programs he’d helped to create for Interpol and typed in the name Lawrence Jacobs.
“Running a trace on your uncle’s finances.”
“Why?”
“I think he’s hiding something,” Griff said. “And I want to know what it is.”
“Even if he is, that has nothing to do with the pictures I received.”
Griff typed in the names of the cousins. “Don’t be so sure,” he warned.
Carmen made a sound of impatience. “You met him. Do you really think he’s a serial killer?”
Griff straightened from the computer and turned to face his companion.
She was staring at him with blatant frustration. Which was better than the bruised expression he’d seen earlier, but still not what he wanted to see.
Months ago he’d encountered a pretty woman with a glorious smile standing on the beach. She’d been confident, flirtatious, and captivating. Granted, she’d been trying to trick him into an interview, but he wanted that woman back.
“I think he’s a clever businessman who has the morals of a shark,” he said, reaching out to unbutton her coat.
She allowed him to gently tug off the outer garment, but she was clearly distracted by his claim.
“That still doesn’t make him a murderer,” she said.
He tossed her coat on the nearby sofa, his gaze never leaving her upturned face.
“We still don’t know that there’ve been any murders,” he said, prepared for her protest. Reaching out, he touched a finger to her parted lips before she could blast him with her outrage. “Please, Carmen, hear me out.”
Her face flushed, but with an effort she gave a small nod. “Fine.”
He took a step closer, his fingers brushing through her curls, which had been tangled by the winter breeze.
“What if your uncle decided that he didn’t want to share his inheritance with his niece?”
His question caught her off guard. “What inheritance?”
His lips twisted. For all of Carmen’s acute intelligence and undoubted success, she could be remarkably na?ve. No wonder her family had been so eager to take advantage of her.
The knowledge stirred his deepest protective instincts. Something that should probably worry him.
“The business. The estate. Probably stocks and bonds,” he told her. “It could be in the millions.”
Her eyes widened. “If I had a million-dollar inheritance, I would know about it.”
He brushed a curl behind her ear before allowing his fingers to trace the delicate line of her jaw.
“How?” he asked. “Your grandparents cut off all contact with the Jacobses. It would be simple for Lawrence to take control of your share.”
“But wouldn’t there be lawyers involved?”
That had been Griff ’s first thought as well. If there was as much money involved as he suspected, there was no way there weren’t a clutch of lawyers eager to become Carmen’s advocate. It would mean a fat payroll for them. Then he remembered that she would have been a minor at the time.
“Not if your uncle had been named as executor of your father’s will,” he said. “Lawrence would have had full rights to make decisions for you and your inheritance. And since your grandparents had forbidden any contact, it would have been difficult for anyone to warn you that you were being denied your share.”
“Okay.” She gave a grudging nod. “That seems reasonable, but I still don’t get the connection to those horrible pictures.”
He cupped her cheek in his palm, knowing his words were bound to hurt Carmen. It didn’t matter if she was close to her family or not; they were all she had left. Now he suspected they might be her worst enemies.
It was bound to cause even more damage to a woman who’d suffered more than her share of tragedy.
“For the past fourteen years you were either concentrating on your studies or consumed with your research on your book. You didn’t have the time for or interest in reconnecting with your family.”
“True.”
“There’s also the fact that you were relatively powerless,” he said.
She jerked, instantly offended. “Powerless?”
“Your grandparents were no doubt fine people, but they weren’t rich,” he said, his thumb tracing the full curve of her lower lip.
“No,” she agreed. “They lived a simple life.”
“Then they both were gone and you were a struggling journalist.”
“Okay.” She glared at him. “But that doesn’t make me powerless.”
He belatedly realized how important it was for Carmen to deny the idea she was helpless. He got it. Like him, she’d been incapable of saving her mother. And now she was at the mercy of some unknown lunatic.
She was clinging to her fierce need to be in control of her life.
“You’re right,” he murmured softly, his gaze sweeping over her face. “You, Carmen Jacobs, are a very dangerous woman.”
A tiny tremor shook her body as she easily heard the sincerity in his voice.
She was dangerous. He’d known that from the first day. And even after he’d discovered she was trying to use him, she’d lingered in his mind.
He told himself it was because he was furious that she’d played him for a fool, but he’d always known that was a lie.
She’d lingered because she was special.
Dangerous.
She drew in a slow, deep breath, as if trying to break free of the sensual spell that was weaving around them.
“Finish your theory,” she commanded.
He suppressed a smile. His body was tense with anticipation, but he made no effort to press his advantage. He wasn’t sure when it’d happened, but he’d already decided that Carmen was going to be a part of his life for the foreseeable future.
They had all the time in the world to explore the heat that sizzled between them.
“My theory is that you haven’t been in a position where you possessed the support or finances to battle against a tribe of expensive lawyers.”
She slowly nodded. “Not until my book hit the best-seller list.”
“Exactly. Now you have money, plus connections to the press that offer you leverage if Lawrence tried to intimidate you,” he continued. “It wouldn’t be nearly as easy to turn you away if you started snooping into the past.”
She took a long time to process his words, the pain that he’d been expecting slowly spreading across her pale features. Griff’s fingers brushed over her cheek, his heart twisting with regret.
Then, with the courage that had allowed her to endure the death of her parents to become a strong, successful woman, she squared her shoulders.
“Even if he’s stolen millions from me, that wouldn’t turn him into a psychopath.”
“He wouldn’t have to be a psychopath. Not if the pictures were faked,” he reminded her.
“What would be the point?”
He hesitated, not wanting to hurt her further. “Being stalked by a lunatic would keep you distracted.”
She stiffened, her eyes narrowing. Her instinctive ability to read people was clearly warning her that he wasn’t being fully honest.