Shattered Trust (Shattered #2) (12 page)

Chapter 19

Trenton

When I get to Madrigal’s house, Alicia Carson, Madison’s bodyguard, is posted at the door, which means Maddy must be home. I head to my room and unpack my belongings. Once I’m done, I return to the foyer in search of intel. Alicia would know Madrigal’s location. “Where’s Ms. Berkeley?”

“The evidence room.” I’d known about it, of course, as Madrigal had described it to me Thursday night. But with everything going on, I hadn’t had a chance to check it out. Eager to see her, I walk toward what was formerly the parlor.

There I find Madrigal, Cristina, Madison, Charlie . . . and Hunter Stone.
What the hell?

Madison stands at the ready in front of one of the boards. After Charlie blurts out a few words, she scribbles madly. Cristina writes something on another one and stands back to study all of them.

Madrigal’s seated in one of the settees, a coffee table in front of her with a book of some kind resting on it. But what grabs my attention is the gorgeous son of a bitch rubbing shoulders with her. Hunter Stone. They’re flipping pages, whispering about something in the book. Cozy does not begin to describe them.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Madrigal’s head comes up. “Trenton. You’re home.”

Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing to stare at me.

“It’s after six. Where else would I be?”

She walks up to me, places her dainty hand on my chest, and shoves me out the door. “You can’t be in here.”

I allow her to exile me to the corridor. No sense making a scene in front of everyone. “Why the hell not?”

She crosses her arms across her chest in a move I’ve come to know very well. Whatever she’s going to say, I’m not going to like. “I’ve decided to conduct the investigation without your help. I need to do this on my own.”

I snort. “On your own? There were four people in there with you, including that bastard Stone!” I yell.

“Will you hush?” She grabs my hand and leads me toward the screened-in porch where I first proposed we move in together. Could that really have been only a week ago? So much has happened since then. But that plan’s gone up in smoke, burned to cinders by Mitch’s case, the need to establish my own law practice, and now Madrigal’s determination to exclude me from the investigation into her parents’ murders.

“Hunter’s helping us with the evidence. His assistance has been incalculable. Between him and Charlie, we have a new theory of the crime.”

“Such as?”

She tosses her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Won’t. I want to do this on my own, Steele. Can’t you understand that?”

“You’re shutting me out of your parents’ murder investigation?”

“Yes, I am.” I’ve never seen her this adamant.

“Why?”

“You ordered Charlie to keep the detective’s file from me. Did you think I would never find out?”

“You’ve seen what’s in that file. I wanted to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. You knew how important that information was to me, and yet you asked him not to hand over the folder.”

Time and time again, she’s told me she wants to stand on her own. I took that choice away when I kept the file from her. The look on her face tells me I’m losing her, and I have no one to blame but myself. I breathe in and out. Hard. The damage to our relationship is right there in her eyes. But it’s not in my nature to give up without a fight. “I can help. You know I can.”

“Not going to happen. You’d be in there calling the shots. And I’d never know if the decisions came from you or me. It’s important I solve this. Besides, you have enough to worry about with Mitch, setting up your new office, and getting new clients. You don’t need any more on your plate. Can’t you see that?”

I’ve been pushed aside. That’s what I see. But I’m not going to make a big deal of it. She’s dug in and not about to change her mind. I’ll have to wait until an opportunity comes along, because I sure as hell am not ceding my spot to Hunter Stone. “Fine. When will dinner be served?”

“Half an hour or so.”

“I’ll be in my room.” The room she assigned to me. Not the one we’ve been using for the past couple of nights. If I’m going to seethe, I want to do it in private. “Got some calls to make.”

“Okay,” she says in a pained whisper. Her decision to shut me out comes with a price. I’m hurting, but so is she.

At dinner, to which Charlie’s been invited, they purposefully don’t discuss her parents’ case. Cristina and Madrigal share news about law school friends. Madison asks Charlie a million questions about his investigative work, and he’s more than happy to answer. I’m glad to see her interested in something else besides horses. At least that handsome bastard is not seated at the table. He’s gone back to his duties as guard, as well he should, since that’s all he is.

After dinner, Charlie leaves, and Madison and Cristina head upstairs, which leaves Madrigal and me alone in the living room. The room exudes Southern gentility with its French doors and lacy curtains, vintage sofas and cream antique chairs. I think far enough ahead to lock the doors behind us. Madrigal waits patiently on one of the couches for me to make my move. Going by her staccato breathing, she knows what’s coming.

I pull her into my arms and ravish her mouth. She doesn’t protest as I take things vertical. I give thanks she’s wearing a skirt as my hand rides up her bare thigh to her mons. When I circle her pearl, she moans and writhes beneath me. She knows what I’m doing, claiming her, proving she’s mine in the most primitive of ways. But when things get a little too hot and heated between us, she pushes me away. “We have to stop. Anyone can see through those French doors.”

She’s right. Only sheer lace curtains cover the damn things.

With a groan, I come upright and head for the bar cart. “Want a drink?”

“No, thank you.” Polite as always. It was one of the traits that appealed to me when I first met her. She’s always been a lady. Prim and proper in public. A sex kitten in the bedroom. After dropping a couple of ice cubes and pouring two fingers of the Macallan Fine Oak into a tumbler, I turn back to her. “I’m going to put down a deposit on that nearby property.”

Her eyes widen. “Do you need to do that now? You have enough on your plate, Steele.”

“If I don’t, somebody may snap it up.”

“What will you do with it?” When we first talked about it, before everything went to hell in a handbasket, she wanted us to own the property jointly. But her question clearly signals she’s changed her mind.

“Inspect the house. If it’s worth saving, I will. If not, I’ll tear it down and build something new.”

Her eyes mist over. “I hope you won’t do that unless there’s good cause. I love that place.”

“I’ll hire an engineer and see what he has to say.” I swirl the ice in the glass. “I’m thinking about selling my apartment in Crystal City.”

“Why? Until your new property is habitable, you’ll need somewhere to live.”

In other words, I won’t be living here much longer. If that doesn’t spell doom for our relationship, I don’t know what does. How could everything have gone so wrong so fast between us? I clear my throat and get ready to take the hit like a man. “Are you saying we’re through?”

Her eyes mist over with tears. She pats the sofa cushion next to her. “Please sit.”

A punch to the gut, that request. She’s fallen for the gorgeous bastard, and she’s about to say good-bye.

“I’ve been thinking about your proposal that we move in together. We can’t continue as we have been in the last week. Not in the long run. That’s very clear to me.”

This is it. Here it comes. There’s the door. Don’t let it slam you on the way out. Taking the seat next to her, I drape my arm over the back of the couch and wait for the ax to fall.

“Madison and I have been talking.”

Not where I thought she was going with the discussion, but okay. “About?”

“She doesn’t want to commute back and forth to school. So when it’s back in session, she wants to board there during the week. She’d asked Gramps, but he wouldn’t allow it. Probably because he wanted to keep tabs on her. Given her medications, it makes sense.”

“And you’re considering this?”

“Yes. She’s been taking her meds for the last several days. Well, except for the one pill she says makes her feel like a zombie. And she’s doing well. She promised she would stick to her medication. She knows if anything happens at school, I’ll yank her out and bring her home. She really wants this, Steele.”

Is she seeking my counsel? From the look of expectation on her face, it appears so. But I don’t want to overstep if she’s not. “Are you asking for my opinion?”

“Yes.”

Suspicion is in my nature, so I have to ask, “You’re not just throwing me a bone because you shut me out of the investigation?”

Her tinkling laugh rings out. “I’m not that devious, Steele. I truly want to know what you think.”

“Okay.” If that’s the case, I owe her the best advice I can give her. One obvious issue jumps out at me. “What about boys? Aren’t you afraid she’ll sneak one into her room?”

“It’s an all-girls school, and Philippe will be two hours away at the University of Virginia. Too far away to drop in.”

I snort. “You don’t know the mind or sexual drive of a college boy. A two-hour drive is nothing to a young man in lust.”

She tosses her head, which sets her dark hair dancing around her shoulders. I want to tangle my hand through that mass of curls, pull her onto me, and brand her as mine.

“They have a very good security system, Steele. And iron bars on each window.”

“Now that’s something that can be counted on.”

“So you think it would be okay to let her do it?”

I twirl a loose curl that’s fallen across her face around my finger and breathe in her scent. My cock lets me know in no uncertain terms what it wants. “You’re her guardian now, so it’s your decision. But if it were my younger sister, I’d at least give her a chance to prove herself.”

Her limpid gaze finds me. She’s not unaffected by my touch. But then I’m not playing fair.

“I thought so too. I’m going to say yes.”

“Madison will be thrilled, I’m sure.” Letting go of her hair, I toss back what remains of the Macallan.

“She’d come home on Saturdays and Sundays, of course. If for no other reason than to ride Marigold. I’d be home during the weekends as well. But during the week, I was wondering, could I live with you in your Crystal City apartment?”

My heart stutters. Did she just ask me if she could move in with me? The thought of having her all to myself five days a week is everything I’ve dreamed of. Apparently the ax is not about to fall after all. “Yes, sweetheart, you most certainly could.”

“Thank you, Steele.” Her smile is just as sweet as the rest of her.

“You’re welcome, Madrigal.” Something momentous just happened. Something that will set the course for our relationship—and yes, there will be a relationship, at least for the near future. “In the meantime . . .” I cup her face in my hands, kiss her lips, nibble at her throat.

“Not here. I know a better place.”

“Your room?”

“Gramps’s bedroom. I haven’t been in there since he passed away. It’s about time I was. But I don’t want anyone to see us heading there, so we’ll go up the back way.”

She gets to her feet, as do I. “Back way?”

“Yes.” Taking me by the hand, she leads me through the French doors and along the outside of the mansion. “I’m sorry to say that at least one of my male ancestors carried on an extramarital affair.”

Happy now that the dark clouds have lifted, I laugh. “How on earth do you know such a thing?”

“He built a secret stairway that led directly to his bedroom.”

At the back of the house, she points to a door. “Here. It’s always locked. But the key’s handy enough.” She points to an old rusty hook right next to the door. “Guess it hasn’t been used in quite a while,” she says.

“Let me try.” With a little elbow grease, I get the key to turn. Rather than put it back on the hook, I take it with me. Don’t want somebody dropping in on us.

Upstairs in her grandfather’s bedroom, I don’t waste time in preliminaries. I turn the lock to the door we just came through as well as the one to the second-floor corridor.

“They won’t hear us,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck. “That’s solid oak, too thick for sounds to escape. So we can make as much noise as we want.”

“I’ll do my best to make you scream, then.” I pick her up and lay her on the big four-poster bed.

Before we get down to business, she says, “George Washington slept here, you know.”

“Good for him. But we’re not going to do any sleeping.”

She giggles. “I hope not.”

In no time flat, our clothes fall away. And soon I’m riding her to paradise and back. It takes but a few minutes to find completion. I’ll need to slow it down next time.

“You’re smiling,” I say.

“I’m happy.”

I discovered early on she’s ticklish. So the devil in me goes after her, drumming my fingers up her flank, across her stomach. She laughs so hard she rolls off the bed. I catch her before her head hits the floor. But before I can pull her up, she stops me. “Wait. There’s something down here.”

“Where?”

“Under the bed.”

I let her down easy and crouch next to her. “It’s a box.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she says to me.

I smack her rump. “Behave. Maybe your grandfather used it for extra storage.”

On all fours, she pulls out the box. And of course my cock notices her ass in the air. As soon as she’s investigated the contents, I’ll pull her back onto the bed and enjoy another bout of hot sex. The metal box, unlike so many ancient things in this house, appears to be brand-new. When she wrestles the lid off, she gasps. Rows of books rest inside.

“What are those?”

She glances at me. Even in the dim light, I see the moisture in her eyes. “My mother’s journals. He never burned them.”

Chapter 20

Cristina

After an hour of listening to Madison extolling the virtues of her boyfriend, Philippe, I was in serious need of a diversion. I searched out Madrigal and Trenton for some grown-up talk, but they were nowhere to be found. So intending to take a leisurely stroll around the mansion, I wandered outside. When I discovered the pool, nothing could keep me from stripping down to my undies and jumping into the pristine blue water.

My parents’ pool in Miami was never heated, so the warmth is a pleasant surprise. After swimming back and forth to work out the kinks, I lie back and float, allowing the water to buoy not only my body but my spirits. As my mind turns inward, I recall how excited I’d been to start my internship at the Department of Justice. Catching the bad guys has always been a dream of mine. I love my work; I really do. But something’s missing.

And I know just what it is. My relationship with Scott never really took off. He doesn’t push my buttons the way a certain bodyguard does. After one look at Hunter Stone, I’d been ready to lick him from head to toe. My body flushes at the thought of that six-foot-something mountain of a man hovering over my body, tasting me, ravishing me.

“Enjoying yourself?” His husky voice drifts over the water, sending my senses soaring. Does he sound real in my imagination or what?

“Umm, yes,” I answer.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

What?
I open my eyes to find the object of my fantasy standing at the end of the pool with a scowl a mile wide across his face.

In a hurry, I find the pool’s bottom and stand. “H-Hunter. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” His big, manly hands are propped on his hips. “You’re out here by yourself swimming in the open. Right now, anybody could be training a rifle on you.”

I wade to the shallower end of the pool. “Why would anybody do that?”

“You’re approximately the same height and build as Madrigal Berkeley, and your hair’s dark just like hers. You could be easily mistaken for her. And yet you’re out here in the dark seemingly without a care in the world.”

“She’s not in danger, is she?”

“Ms. Sanchez. Why do you think she hired me?”

“I don’t know. To find out who killed her grandfather?”

“To protect her, her sister, and the members of the household, which right now includes you.” He swings his arm sideways. “Get out of the pool.”

Darn. Here I was having such a lovely fantasy about him, and now he’s ruined it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” When I climb up the steps and out of the pool, his eyes flash with heat. No wonder. All I’m wearing are a sheer bra and panties. He can see every inch of me.

I grab my clothes from the beach chair I’d thrown them on and drape them in front of me. “Turn around so I can dress.”

For a couple of seconds, his appreciative gaze takes me in from top to bottom, but then he does as I ask.

Leaning back, I jam on my shirt and button it. Wet as I am, the jeans are a lot harder to slide on. At one point I lose my balance and stumble against him. He reaches back and grabs my hip to keep me from falling. His hand lands on the edge of my panties, an inch away from paradise. If he moved his finger just a tad, he’d feel how soaked I am—and not only from the pool.

When I finally wrangle my legs into the jeans and pull up the zipper, I say. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

When he does, the heat in his eyes sets me reeling. Obviously, he’s not unaffected by me, but I can’t start anything with him. Not now. Not when I’m still with Scott and don’t know if I’m going to remain in DC or move back to Florida. If I were to start something with Hunter Stone, it wouldn’t be easy to let go.