Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2)
Read Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) Online
Authors: Tiffany Snow
Also by Tiffany Snow
In His Shadow
, The Tangled Ivy Series
No Turning Back
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Turn to Me
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Turning Point
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Out of Turn
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Point of No Return
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Blane’s Turn
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Kade’s Turn
, The Kathleen Turner Series
Blank Slate
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Tiffany Snow
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
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Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of
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, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477829103
ISBN-10: 1477829105
Cover design by Jason Blackburn
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014958173
For Leslie, whose friendship and loyalty I cherish.
Contents
P
ROLOGUE
H
e came in the dead of night.
I was accustomed to his unannounced arrivals, so when I woke to the feel of a man sliding under the sheets with me, I wasn’t afraid.
He was already naked and it only took a moment for him to slip my nightgown over my head and toss it aside. He kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his.
His skin was warm, his body hard. His taste and touch were drugs I craved more fiercely than the most avid heroin addict.
We didn’t speak. I didn’t welcome him home or ask about his day. He couldn’t tell me about his job even if he wanted to, though I didn’t suspect that fact bothered him. It was the nature of spies to be secretive, but since I’d known only one, I supposed I wasn’t an expert on the subject.
These thoughts were driven from my mind as his hands skated down my body. He shifted my legs apart, moving to lie between my spread thighs. I focused on him, memorizing the feel of him pressing against me.
The night passed in a blur of whispered sighs and moans, sweat and skin beneath tangled sheets, until the pleasure he’d wrung from me forced me into an exhausted and sated slumber.
When I woke to sunlight streaming through my window, he was gone.
C
HAPTER
O
NE
I
was hard-pressed to keep a stupid grin off my face as I got ready for work.
Devon had come last night.
It had been weeks since I’d seen him, each night going to bed hopeful, each morning waking up disappointed. My cell phone hadn’t rung with a call in the middle of the night, the number blocked. Its silence mocked me.
But I hadn’t been disappointed last night.
My body still tingled when I thought about what had passed in the early hours of the morning, a shiver running down my spine.
I finished running a brush though my hair—long, straight, and pure white-blonde. My makeup was minimal. Some would say I was fortunate to have been born pretty, but it had always been more of a curse than blessing to me. Though without my looks, I might never have caught Devon’s eye.
Some men were attracted to lush figures, which I didn’t have. Tall and on the too-skinny side of thin, I had the perfect shape to
wear the designer clothes I couldn’t afford that filled my closet. That shape was not one men usually drooled over.
Other men were all about the face. Devon was one of those men. He didn’t seem to mind my angles and planes where there should be soft curves. He liked my face. He liked it a lot. And he’d once told me he liked the way I moved, the way I walked.
Maybe influenced by one too many runway shows, I tried to do justice to the clothes I wore. So I stood tall, shoulders back, chin up, and sashayed my ass down the street, usually in four-inch heels. It made me feel good about myself and gave me a confidence that had taken me years to acquire.
Glancing at my watch, I saw I was going to be late for work if I didn’t hurry. Worcester Bank opened early and I had to be there even earlier for my job as a teller. I’d been daydreaming of last night, putting me behind schedule.
I hurried into the kitchen, then grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. I needed a quick fix before I left. That’s when I saw it.
A stack of money on the kitchen counter.
I stared in confusion for a moment, then set aside my mug and reached for the money. Next to it was a note.
For anything you might need.
-D
Absently, I counted the stack. It was about a half-inch tall and only contained hundreds. When I was through counting, I just stood in amazement.
Ten thousand dollars. Devon had left ten thousand dollars just . . . sitting on the kitchen counter.
My happiness abruptly deflated like a popped balloon. Last night had seemed special—a wonderful reunion after too many weeks apart. But now it was sordid, tainted by money left figuratively
on the bedside table, as though Devon were compensating me for having sex with him. I lived in his apartment, for which he paid all the bills, but that seemed . . . different than a pile of cold, hard cash.
I didn’t know what to do with the money. I couldn’t leave it sitting out. Back in the bedroom, I hesitated, then put it in the top drawer of the nightstand. That was probably the most appropriate place for it anyway, I thought somewhat bitterly.
Now I was really late for work. I drove my own car although I had the keys for Devon’s Porsche. He’d left them when he’d left the keys to his apartment and a directive to move out of my best friend Logan’s place and into his. But driving such an expensive car made me nervous, so my old sedan was preferable.
Marcia, another teller at the bank and one of my few close friends, was pouring herself a cup of coffee in the break room by the time I hurriedly clocked in and tossed my lunch into the communal refrigerator.
“Oh, pour me a cup, too, please,” I said, somewhat breathless from my dash into the building after I’d parked my car.
She obliged, pouring a second cup and eyeing me. “You look a little tired today,” she said. “Everything okay?”
“Devon came last night,” I said, taking the cup from her. We fell into step together as we walked to the front of the bank and to our teller booths.
