Hot Secrets Read online

  “I was smart enough to step in the hallway to make the call and then have the doorman text me when he was bringing them up. I wanted to ask him a few questions anyway, so I made it worth his while. Cash and donuts buys a lot of information. A little trick an ex-cop taught me.”

  She laughed, liking that he shared those insider jokes with her, but somehow didn’t seem a part of the insiders at all.

  He pushed to his feet. “Stay put and I’ll bring them to you.”

  Lauren smiled as he headed to the kitchen, and wondered if he even realized when he gave orders. Somehow, she didn’t think so, and was odd considering what she knew of herself and her dislike for bossy people, she found it endearing rather than irritating. And this wasn’t an order she intended to follow. She threw off the blanket and rushed towards the bedroom and her bathroom.

  Not five minutes later, Lauren had brushed her teeth and hair, and washed her face, before returning to find Royce sitting on the couch with donuts and coffee for them both laid out on the coffee table.

  “A girl could get used to a big brawny man attending to her caffeine needs every morning,” she said, joining him and sitting down beside him again. She reached for the coffee mug and inhaled. “The only thing better than caffeine in the morning is sugar.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “And you just happen to live down the road from one of the best donut makers in the city.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, opening the bag and pulling out a chocolate glazed variety, to take a bite. “Hmmm. Okay. Pretty darn good.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, licking his lip afterwards. “You had icing on your mouth.”

  Lauren felt her cheeks heat, and pretty much, her entire body, too.

  “I’m staying the rest of the weekend.”

  “What?” She asked in surprise at the announcement and then immediately set her donut on a napkin he’d placed on the table and shook her head in rejection. “You don’t have to play bodyguard, Royce. The building is secure.”

  “And yet you wouldn’t have slept if I hadn’t been here last night. I’m staying with you or you’re staying with me. I’d rather stay here so I can evaluate what is going on with these threats in your environment and whether they are likely to continue. But,” he pulled her close, his lips lingering above hers, “I’d welcome the opportunity to have you in my bed.”

  “Royce,” she said, trying to think past the warmth spreading through her body. “You’re impossibly”

  “Bossy. Yes. I know. But I’m going to fight you on this one and I’m not going to apologize. I told you to listen to your gut. And my gut tells me to keep you close.”

  “I don’t want you to babysit me, Royce.”

  “Apparently I’ve not been clear. You interest me, Lauren Reynolds, like no other woman has in a very long time. I want an excuse to stay with you. Now, I just need to hear you say you want me to stay.”

  She did want him to stay but he confused her, sent her mixed messages. “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t sleep? Were you that worried about these calls?”

  “I dozed off leaning against the couch at some point,” he said, dodging the question.

  She studied him a long moment, reading between the lines of his many mixed messages. He was worried and he wasn’t someone to worry without cause. He thought she was in trouble and no matter what his motivation, his duty, or his interest in her, it mattered to her that he was here for her.

  She brushed her hand over her cheek. ”You can’t stay with me if you’re not going to sleep. You have to be exhausted.”

  “I’m not promising either of us are going to get any sleep.”

  Heat and nerves collided inside her at those words. She wanted Royce, and yet, she was way over her head with him, inexperienced and vulnerable, two things she didn’t like to feel. She was too drawn to this man and it scared her.

  “How about we go to my place so I can shower and change and pick up some things?” he asked, continuing. “Then, we can hunker down here and watch a movie, or I can beat you at tic tac toe. I don’t care what. Anything that will get your mind off this mess.”

  “I have work I need to do,” she said, “but... yes. Okay. I think it might do me some good to escape a bit.”

  “Perfect. So let’s eat this bag of donuts and you can do whatever women do in the morning to get ready, and we’ll take off.” He released her and reached for the bag and they turned on the news and chatted. But any relaxation Lauren felt ended quickly as a media clip of her and Royce, rushing from the hotel flashed on the screen. Then another of the crowd gasping as something was thrown all over them.

  Lauren was glad she’d just finished off her donut. She was no longer hungry. “He wants attention,” she said, without looking at Royce. “He got it.”

  “He?”

  She glanced at him. “Gut feeling.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Well. It’s all over the news. Why not file that police report?”

  “Someone throwing alcohol at us is in the news,” she said. “My phone calls are not. And you and I both know the police will do less than what you’re doing and someone will blab. This kind of thing feeds copycats. I don’t need to invite that kind of attention to me, or anyone in a similar position on a tough case.”

  “Are you confident this is about the case?”

  She inhaled and let it out. “I don’t know. I have ticking clocks and one day marked off a calendar. How do I know what that means? Logic says it’s this case though. That’s all I can go on.”

  “Do you have your files on your computer? Can you go through them and make a list of the most likely suspects?”

  “Royce, you were FBI. Is there even one of the perps you took down that would send you a Christmas card?”

  “No,” he said. “But I know the ones that were the most vicious and the most likely to lash out. We need to start there.”

  “I have my files.”

  “Then when we get back here, we’ll go through them. We’ll get this behind you. I promise.”

  Lauren wasn’t one to lean on other people, but in that moment, she was secretly far more thankful for that promise than she was willing to admit to anyone, even him. And not because she didn’t appreciate his efforts. Because she knew that if she let him know just how rattled she was, if she admitted it to him, she’d have to admit it to herself. The way she compartmentalized the bad stuff that came with her job didn’t work that way. There was an order to the way she dealt with things. She had to maintain control. Not Royce.

  ***

  Several hours later, Lauren shivered as she stepped off the elevator and into the corridor outside her apartment. “Well, we didn’t beat the rain,” she said, shivering from the cold droplets that lingered on her black jeans and red t-shirt, as well as her hair. “I hope the sandwiches we walked two blocks for are worth getting wet over. I’ve never tried this place.”

  She scooped her keys from her purse. Royce’s cell phone rang and he dropped his overnight bag on the ground, and Lauren took the bag of food from him so he could answer it.

  He held his phone and punched the ‘answer’ button as his gaze dropped to the bottom of the door. He answered the call with, “I’ll call you back,” then ended the connection and stuck his phone back onto his belt.

  Lauren’s gaze settled on the envelope on the ground and she knew that had to be what he was reacting to, and she was downright chilled to the bone now. “We’ve only been gone a few hours. There have to be security cameras.”

  “There are and they showed no evidence of anyone but us at your door in the past few days. Let me have your keys.”

  Lauren set the bag on the floor and handed them to him. He took them and checked the door over before opening it and grabbing the envelope. “Stay here.”

  “Right,” she said stiffly. “I’ve got the drill down. You go. I wait.”

  He tilted her chin up with
his finger. “I’ll make this go away, Lauren. I promise.”

  “Keep saying that,” she encouraged, confessing more than she should, more than she told herself just hours before that she would, but unable to stop herself. “It helps to hear it.”

  ***

  After Royce searched the apartment, he found Lauren in the hallway and gave her the ‘all clear’ to come inside. Standing at the kitchen table, he showed her the calendar sheet he’d already pulled from the envelope with an additional day marked off. This time there was a message made from cutout letters.

  Lauren frowned, reading it. “The countdown continues.” She shook her head. “There’s no ending date for me to have any idea where this is headed. It’s making me crazy.”

  “When you see that paper and hear the ticking clock, what’s the first thing, or things, that comes to your mind?”

  “This case. It’s a death penalty case. Well, there is this other...” She pursed her lips. “No. Never mind.”

  “What?” he asked. “Say it. It’s better to look at all options than not.”

  She leaned one hand on the table. “I hesitate to bring this up because I was second chair, but my first death penalty case, a guy named Sheridan, goes to execution soon.”

  “When?”

  “Ironically, two weeks after this new trial begins but it’s been stayed several times. It could easily be again.”

  “Who was the first chair?”

  “He’s dead, natural causes.”

  Royce stiffened at that news. “You’re sure it was natural?”

  “Not only did the man practically inhale his weight in grease every day, the phrase ‘smoke like a chimney’ was created in his honor. He had a heart attack. It’s a reach but it’s what came to my mind on several occasions, so there it is.”

  Royce grabbed his phone and punched in Luke’s number, before giving his brother the Sheridan execution and case to research. He asked Lauren a couple of questions for Luke and then ended the call.

  “I hate that your brothers are being bothered with this,” Lauren said, her hands on the back of one of the chairs. “I hate you’re being bothered with this. I know you have work of your own to deal with.”

  “They don’t question what I need any more than I question what they need. We have each other’s backs.” He pulled her against him, her hips to his, his arms around her waist. “And I have yours.”

  Her hand settled on his chest and he doubted she knew just how much her touch scorched him, how much she affected him without even trying. “You barely know me,” she argued.

  “But I want to, which means keeping you safe so I get the chance.” She shivered and he ran his hands down her arms. “Why don’t I start a fire before we eat? I noticed you have wood.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “I think I’ll go throw on some dry clothes.” She started to turn and paused. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do.” She hesitated. “Just... I do.” She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  Royce knew she meant to make it a quick kiss and then escape, but she was tiny and soft in his arms and felt more perfect than anyone had in a very long time. It tormented him to know he was deceiving her but he shoved aside the reality he’d eventually have to face and wrapped his fingers around her neck, holding her to him. His tongue pressed into hers, stealing one sweet taste before he murmured, “Hurry back. I’m hungry.” And if she wasn’t clear that he wasn’t talking about sandwiches, she would be soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Royce watched Lauren disappear into her bedroom, thinking about the senator’s insistence that she would dismiss a threat, and put herself in harm’s way. Sure, he saw her caution about overreacting, but he couldn’t blame her in the role she was in with the DA. Most importantly thought, she wasn’t under reacting either or pretending nothing was wrong. The senator clearly knew something he wasn’t saying, something he didn’t want Lauren to know.

  Royce headed to the front door and unzipped his bag and replaced his wet Yankees t-shirt with a dry white one on his way to the door. He had Luke on the line the instant he was in the hallway. “Senators can’t give stays of execution,” Royce said. “I get that but”

  “They can influence them,” Luke finished for him. “I’m already on it. I’m trying to find any connection between the senator and the Sheridan case, be it past or present, or both.”

  “You mean I’m trying,” came Blake’s voice in the background. “And I’m already on it. Apparently, you’re taking all the credit.”

  Luke grimaced at Blake’s comment and continued speaking to Royce. “As you can see, I’ve recruited help. While Blake works the Sheridan angle, I’m working on anything and everything the senator has touched in the past year. Are you going to tell him about the phone calls and the calendars Lauren is getting?”

  “Not yet,” Royce said. “Let’s see what we come up with first.”

  “Exactly my thought,” Luke agreed. “This whole secrecy thing just doesn’t add up.”

  “Agreed,” Royce said, glancing at the caller ID as his phone beeped. “Speak of the devil, the senator is calling me. Text me when you find something out.” He ended the call and flipped over to the next. “This is Royce.”

  “Update, son. What is happening with my daughter?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out,” he said. “And it would be easier if we told her what is going on.”

  The Senator grunted. “Absolutely not.”

  Royce ran a hand through his hair. “She is going to hate us both when she finds out we didn’t tell her.”

  “Then don’t let her find out,” he said bitingly. “Where is she now?”

  “She’s safe.”

  “Translate that to a detailed assurance.”

  “I’m with her, out of her hearing range.”

  “Well done,” he said. “I’ve got to head to a meeting. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  “Have you?” The line went dead.

  Royce dropped the phone to stare at it in disbelief. Damn it to hell, he’d hung up. And without one single question about the progress on finding out who was behind the letters or what the lab had found out. More and more, something didn’t add up.

  ***

  Lauren returned, having dried her hair, dressed in black sweats, a tee, and slipper socks, to find Royce stoking a fire that seemed to be on its way to a nice blaze.

  He rotated on his heels from where he squatted, apparently hearing her approach, his gaze hotter than the fire, as it traveled a path up and down her body and settled on her t-shirt. He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. Damn, she loved his laugh. “Lawyers have more fun?” he asked.

  “Julie got it for me since I always tell her blondes have more fun. I told her the shirt proves nothing.” She motioned to the kitchen. ”I’ll grab the drinks. I’m starving.”

  A few minutes later, they both sat on the floor with their laptops at the ready, their Reubens on plates. The fire crackled and rain splattered on the window in heavier taps.

  Lauren took a bite of her sandwich and sighed. “Either it’s good or I’m just really, really hungry.”

  “It’s good,” he agreed. “I haven’t had one of these in a long time.” He opened the container with his cheesecake and took a bite. “It’s good, too.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone eat dessert with their meal instead of after.”

  “It’s better than before, right?”

  “I suppose it is,” she agreed and found herself considering him a moment. “You know, you really aren’t what I expected.”

  “You’ve said that before the other night and then fell asleep. This time you’re not getting out of an explanation.”

  “You’re just... different.”

  “Different from other men you’ve known? From the politicians you work with?”

  “Everyone else around me. I’m surprised you took the state advisor job. It
doesn’t seem like you to want to deal with the politics of things.”

  “I tolerate the politics, because I’m able to influence decisions that impact the safety of the public. I worked some pretty intense post 9/11 FBI operations. I don’t ever want the people of this country, this city, to see 9/11 happen again. And as I suspect you have done, I made the decision to grin and bear what I had to, to make an impact, or at least try. Frankly, I‘m shocked you aren’t working for your father’s law firm.”

  She took a sip of her drink and set it down. “My father is all about money and power. That’s just not who I am. It wasn’t who my mother was either. Looking back, I think she chose to be a professor over a practicing lawyer to avoid the differences between her and my father.” She opened her cheesecake and took a bite. “Oh, that’s good.” She shoved her sandwich aside.

  “Now look who’s eating out of order,” he teased.

  “I ate half my sandwich,” she said. “That’s enough for me. You want the other half?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said and grabbed her plate, setting his now empty one aside and then surprised her by asking, “Didn’t I read you were engaged at some point?”

  Her fork stilled in her mouth a moment, before she nodded and set it down, her gaze fixing on the orange flames of the fire. “Yeah. I was.”

  Royce slid a finger under her chin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You're not. It’s just not a happy subject.”

  “He hurt you.”

  “I caught him in bed with another woman.” She held up a hand. “And don’t do the sympathy thing. After I was over the initial shock of his betrayal, I was actually relieved.” Lauren turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the couch, her legs curled to her side. “I wasn’t happy with him. I knew long before we broke up that he didn’t want me. He wanted control of my father’s law firm. By him taking it, I didn’t have to deal with my father’s nagging for me to take over.”

  “He hates it,” she said. “And he really hates this case I’m about to go to trial on, because the defendant is playing the battered woman card and I’m being painted as a monster. He’s been getting hate mail and phone calls over it.”