Deception (Infidelity #3)

Sighing in the dark of Patrick’s spare room, I concentrated on what had happened to that fairytale. I thought about what I knew or what I thought I knew. I replayed the scene from the night before a hundred times. As I did, I realized that I hadn’t asked Nox if he’d killed his wife. I’d asked him to tell me that he wasn’t responsible for her death.

What would a man like Nox deem as responsible? What did Pat mean about a hit? What kind of case and testimony did Jocelyn’s family have against Nox? Why hadn’t it already been pursued if her death occurred years ago?

More questions swirled.

I recalled weeks ago that Deloris told me Demetri Enterprises was an umbrella, one with some nefarious subsidiaries. Well, she hadn’t used that word, but now with Bryce’s note, it seemed accurate. Nox had said that Demetri Enterprises was an investor in Infidelity. Was that what Bryce meant by prostitution?

Still lying upon the bed, my shoulders straightened indignantly, my bare feet sliding upon the soft sheets as I wondered how Bryce would feel if he learned that for only a brief time, I’d been an employee of Infidelity. If Pat were right that Bryce needed me for a cover, maybe I wouldn’t be his best choice.

I also wondered if Patrick had considered Millie Ashmore, my high school best friend, an easy lay? Was she on the list he’d supplied? The idea of her, the girl claiming to be my friend, sleeping with not only my boyfriend but also my cousin made me physically ill.

I threw back the blankets. The train of thought I was riding had taken a downward spiral. It was time to disembark before it crashed. Willing myself forward, I decided to get my day going. Despite all hell breaking loose around me, I had class this morning, followed by a discussion session. From everything I’d gathered, the discussion was invaluable.

Thirty-five minutes later, showered and dressed for class, I was contemplating my breakfast and raiding the refrigerator of fruit when Pat entered, all debonair and dressed for work. His spicy cologne reached me even before his footsteps stopped.

Turning his direction, like a thief with my hand caught in the cookie jar, I smiled. “You really do clean up well!” As he made his best GQ-worthy pose, I giggled and asked, “How are things at Kassee?”

“Going really well. Are you finding everything you want?”

“Yes,” I replied as I laid the food on the counter. “You did say make yourself at home.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “I don’t know if you remember, but on the day of your… interview, I had a presentation at Kassee that I couldn’t miss?”

Though that wasn’t high on my radar that day, I did remember.

“I do. Did it go well?”

His brown eyes sparkled as he took a piece of my pineapple. “It went so well, later, one of the partners talked to me about employment after my internship is complete.”

“Pat, that’s fantastic. What does Cy think?”

“Hmm?”

I squinted my eyes his direction. “Why are you humming at me?”

“Because as much as you’re fighting it, you’re thinking like one of a couple. If you weren’t, you’d have said, that’s fantastic. What are you going to do?”

I shrugged as I hit the button on the coffee machine. It hissed and sputtered filling the kitchen with the delectable aroma of a French roast brew as I recalled my lonely wake-up. “I miss him. I woke up this morning and rolled toward him.”

Pat’s fingers laced through mine. “Honey, I bet he feels the same. Call him. Do it now, or you’ll never be able to concentrate on those boring professors.”

I squeezed his hand and then released mine. “Thanks for the advice, but as I said, I left the ball in his court.”

“You know, you can’t—”

I interrupted, almost telling him I could, but settled for saying, “I know.”

Pat glanced at the clock on the microwave. “I didn’t think you went to class this early.”

It wasn’t even seven. Since I was up, leaving early was part of my rebellion against surveillance strategy. “I don’t, but since I’m up I thought I’d head to campus and get a little reading done in the library before class.”

“You can stay here. I’m heading out. It’ll be quiet.”

I shrugged. “I know. Thanks, but I need to move.”

Patrick kissed my forehead. “Sure thing. You move. Have you called that bodyguard guy to drive you?”

I stood taller, holding my cup of coffee in both hands and gently blew across the steaming molten java. Looking at my cousin through my lashes I replied, “Nope.”

“Tsk-tsk. Are you trying to poke the beehive?”

“I haven’t had this subject in class yet, but as a law student, I believe pleading the fifth is an acceptable answer.”

“Alex…”

“And I promise I’ll be in touch, but if my GPS is off on my phone, don’t let that worry you. I will still be around.”

“Great. That Witt woman will be blowing up my phone. If I don’t get that position at the firm due to too many personal—”

I shook my head. “Fine, I’ll send her a text.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. I need to run.”

“Run?”

“To the subway station.” He looked down at his clothes. “Run and ruin this look? Never.”

I smiled at his words, a little jealous of his ability to choose his own mode of transportation. “See you tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s my plan. If it changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Sure thing, little cousin, have a good day.”

I attempted another sip of my coffee as he walked down the hall toward the door. The beep of the buttons upon the keypad and the turning of the tumblers as the door unlocked and opened let me know Patrick’s apartment was safe. And then suddenly my lips sputtered coffee as my throat forgot to swallow. Breaths stilled in my chest and the energy of the once-calm apartment crackled like lightning around me. I forced the hot coffee down as I fumbled with the cup, barely settling it upon the counter as the heavy footsteps belonging to the deep velvet voice I’d just heard grew louder, making their way my direction.

Fight or flight?

I assessed my surroundings. If I ran, where could I go? I contemplated dashing behind the breakfast bar, but decided in the nick of time that it was a juvenile thought and meeting those dazzling blue eyes head-on was better than flight.

My neck straightened as I feigned strength. Let the fight begin.

“Charli.”

Thunder.

Nox’s gaze found me and then scanned the kitchen, momentarily settling upon my coffee and back to me.

“Mr. Demetri,” I said. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I know you like it black.”

He stepped closer. The cloud of woodsy cologne gently replaced the robust French roast.

In one graceful yet powerful move, I was pinned, my hips against his. With one arm around my waist and the other my shoulders, my breasts rubbed against his chest. Fighting the urge to be swallowed by the embrace I’d feared I’d never experience again, I boldly lifted my chin.

His voice was strong and even. “I can’t give you the answer you wanted last night, but not for the obvious reason.”

My mind spun as I pushed back against his hold.

“No,” he replied. “I can’t give you the answer, not because of what it is, but because I’m not ready.”

I pulled back to look deeper into the navy swirls. I recalled the night I’d told Nox I was a Montague, the night he told me not to force any answers, to give them when I was ready in my mind and my heart. He was asking for the same consideration.

I nodded. “I understand.”

His chest deflated as he released his breath.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I told you that I trusted you, but then I left.”

The tips of his lips moved upward as his tone became more demanding. “I’m not letting you go, not now, not ever.” His large hands splayed, pulling his grip of me tighter. “I never should’ve let you leave last night. I should have tied your beautiful body to my bed.”

“Nox—”