Sins of the Undead Patriot (18 page)

Rowley met Devin’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He sat in the backseat. Could the government know they had pushed Jean into the street? He needed to know if the crime could be pinned on them.

Rowley turned off the engine and stepped out into the night. The deserted street was unplowed. Clientele didn’t come in their own vehicles. Most paid a taxi service to drop them off and pick them up at the end of the night.

Devin and the Fed walked a few steps behind.

The women swayed their hips as they approached, working their bodies hard to close a sale.

A tall blonde leaned into him and glided her hand downward, slipping it between the buttons of his wool coat. Practiced at going for the goods.

She pressed her lips to his ear. “Got a girl?”

Interesting way of approaching him. “I do.” Not the typical sales tactic.

“I can give you all the things she’s too repressed to share with you. And you can call me her name.”

He scuffed off a laugh. “I highly doubt that.” The words probably appealed to a great many married men with wives not holding up their own in bed. The bedroom part of his relationship with Lee-lee wasn’t one he worried about. The emotional one was another matter.

“You want to fuck my ass.”

That definitely wasn’t a hang up for Lee-lee. “Sorry, I don’t fuck corpses and you are already dead.” Rowley withdrew her hand from his coat.

She blinked.

Mr. DeGruis held the door open, waiting from him, and Rowley entered.

A man in a high backed gothic chair had a woman on her knees performing oral sex.

He followed a few steps behind DeGruis, into a study. A brown briefcase with an upright handle sat at the center of a partner’s desk.

In the dark back corner, a figure shifted. “Everything you need is in the briefcase,” it said. “All the materials I used are all common in indoor public places and will take a while for the authorities to distinguish between the bomb material and pieces supposed to be there. If you can set it near a kitchen or heating room, even better, which will at first make it look like a malfunction. To help you, I didn’t sign the bomb.”

“Radeo will be the one to gather all the pieces you need for the main event. You’ll need to come by and pick up the items once a week starting on Fridays.” The Fed was grating on his nerves.

“Devin”–Rowley pointed to his right hand man–“will be doing the pickup. Not me.”

“That’s not what we agreed to.” The undead leaned forward. Its face had a long scar.

“It’s Devin, or the deal’s off. You two figure out if we do business, then call me.” Rowley gestured for Devin, picked up the briefcase and headed toward the door.

Footsteps followed a few steps behind, as he exited the building. The blonde’s eyes met his and darted away. What could he say? The truth was painful.

He slid into the car.

“Are we just going to leave the Fed here?” Devin said as he got in and shut the door.

Why not? “He seemed in his element to me.”

How the fuck was he going to fix things with Lee-lee? With a huff, he settled into his seat.

“Just go by and see her,” Devin said.

“Who?”

“The tooth fairy.” He tapped his shoulder. “Leera.”

That obvious. “I need to give her space. Things got intense the other day.” So he was putting it lightly. He hadn’t needed to take things where he did. But he couldn’t help himself from taking the little extra. The place she wasn’t ready to go.

“What are you afraid of?” Devin turned toward him.

He’d fucked things up royally. The truth was out and it sucked. “That she hates me.” He was a bastard, and she knew just how much of one he really was.

“At least that’s something, isn’t it? Besides, I doubt her emotions are clear right now. From what you’ve told me, you promised her your dark side wouldn’t hurt her and she discovered it already had.”

Not far off the truth. Devin was much more emotionally grounded than he was, the kind of partner who was in touch with a significant other’s feelings. A skill Rowley lacked and Leera needed.

“She married a man who adored her to hurt you and it did. I’d say you’re tied at this point. How do you want things to go this time?”

“Don’t forget, I killed Jean.” He pointed at his chest. One more way he’d hurt her.

“Actually, I’m the one who pushed him onto the street. However, that wasn’t about her, it was business. I suppose Jean’s snooping had everything to do with the man knowing what you meant to his wife, but it couldn’t be helped.”

Or could it? Rowley had tasted the man’s wife in plain sight. Taunting Jean at Christmas under the mistletoe, he’d French kissed her. At Peter’s birthday, he’d had his hands all over her as she danced with him. Though she’d pushed him away, he’d felt the heat in her lips and body. Best if he conducted this talk with her face to face. How else would he find out the why to her sudden disappearing act? Could the undead vulture circling her be the reason? He needed to find a way to provide her the emotional connection, the thing he wasn’t capable of.

And he knew just the man for the job.

In the next few days, he’d go over and see her. “Your point is noted, and I will try to see her soon. Happy?”

“Very.” Devin nodded.

Right now, other matters needed to be dealt with. “Wyatt needs to be disposed of. I can’t have a man with beliefs like his tangled up with us. The undead are the problem, not the living.”

“I’m already on it. I could tell by the look in your eyes. After he saw Leera, he’d become too much of a liability to try to get to you, through her.”

What would he do without Devin to look out for him? Maybe Devin could help him in other ways. In a way that would help him keep his Lee-lee.

Chapter 17

Leera took a deep breath, body still tingling at the edge of release, opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Vaihan leaned against the wall, head down. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his dimple appearing as his face lit up.

Melting her. Her legs wobbled, but she put one foot in front of the other. Why had she pushed herself? She needed this, him. But she couldn’t let go, knowing this was all a deception. Not only on her part, but his too. The hard buds of her nipples pressed to the lace of her bra, coaxing wetness between her thighs. The warmth of his fingers still lingered inside her. He wasn’t even touching her. She squeezed her inner muscles, which forced juices to her panties.

He held the car door open for her. The towering feeling of him as she passed sent shivers up her spine. She slid into the seat, put her seatbelt on and clutched her bag on her lap. Tears clouded her vision. She wouldn’t fall to pieces and force him to comfort her.

Snow covered the ground and trees. Light reflected off the crystals, glistening.

Vaihan sat next to her, pulled the door closed and started the car.

She tugged the seat belt strap then yanked.

He pushed the lock button for the door. “May I?”

Could she bear his touch so close? She lifted her arms, angled herself away. Rose petals were scattered on the pathway.

A surge of heat rushed through her as he leaned over and tugged her seatbelt strap.

“Thank you.” His stare lingered on her then he hit the lock car door button and pulled onto the road.

Tension lay heavy. But what could she say without blowing her cover...mission... whatever the hell Barton had her doing to save Peter? What she wanted more than anything was for the panicked feeling inside her to go away. Somehow, she knew surrendering to Vaihan would create a bond. A connection based on lies. The physical exchanges brought her feelings of belonging and closeness. Were the sensations real or perceived? She wanted Vaihan to want her.

Vaihan’s first concern when she’d asked him to stop was whether he’d hurt her. At this moment, she was wounding him. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to end his suffering.

Streetlights reflected off the snow shimmering in the night. The river lay still, and was eerie. Steam hovered above the black water.

At the red light, he slowed to a stop and glanced at her. The signal turned green. He made a left.

Rows of homes lined both sides of the roadway. What foolishness she had put herself and him through tonight. What could she say to escape and not make things worse? He pulled the car up behind hers and turned the engine off.

The sweetness of wood and the warmth of coriander filled her breath. “No need to walk me to the door, I can manage.” She forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Leera.”

When he said her name in that very deep tone, her insides turned to mush.

He exhaled deeply. “Please...”

The pleading in his voice shot to her heart. He wasn’t going to let her go without a reason for how things had ended tonight.

“If I did something wrong, I need to know.” He fixed his gaze straight ahead, and his chest rose and fell in a sigh. “Did I hurt you?” Though his words spoke of vulnerability, his determination gave them strength.

She tightened her grip on her handbag. A few feet away was her door, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. She didn’t want to be without him. Not when his touch made her feel alive. Any halfhearted attempt to explain would only create further doubt. And how could she ever face him again if she didn’t tell him why she’d panicked? Nor could she tell him the truth. Worst of all, this could all be another head game to test him and the type of man he was. There was something wrong with her.

“The last thing I want is to drag this out for you. I won’t force you to explain.” He turned to her. “Just know how terribly sorry I am for any pain I’ve caused you.”

Each second she let go by without responding only deepened his wound. It was better if she felt completely humiliated than have him think he’d hurt her.

Leera met his pain-filled eyes. “I am wrong. If anything, you did everything too right. Perfect. I can’t–I’d thought I could, but–” A tear slid from her eye. How pathetic did that sound? He’d brought her to the tip of climax and she’d freaked. She could not bond with him while she saw another man and was a government plant. She unfastened her seatbelt, opened the car door and rushed out into the night. At her front door, she fumbled for the keys.

The driver’s side door opened.

She wanted to vanish before he reached her.

Vaihan stopped beside her. “Does Sunday night work for you?”

What? Had he not heard what she’d just said? She glanced up at him.

“Monday, then?”

Thank God. She didn’t know how to convince him to see her again if he thought her crazy. “You want to see me again?” Obviously, she was a basket case. The pressure of what she was being asked to do was too much.

“Yes, and again. And so on.”

What choice did he have, when he needed her to get to Peter to take down Rowley? “Are you angry about what happened?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not if you were honest with me.”

As much as she was able. “What did you hear me say?”

“That you doubted my skills and when you got really close to orgasm, you panicked. You felt embarrassed about letting things get out of
hand
so to speak. Close?”

“Bang on.” He got all that from what she’d said. Amazing. “You aren’t angry with me?”

“Not in the least, regarding the sex or the lack of communication. The last twenty minutes were some of the longest in my life. And I’ve been around a long while. I was worried I’d hurt you.” As he breathed out, his dimple flashed. “Sex will come. We don’t need to rush that. In the meantime, I’ll work on building your confidence in communicating with me, and my skills.”

She smiled. “What time Monday?”

“Does seven work?”

She nodded. “Is kissing closed mouth on the lips permitted?”

He searched her gaze, reached around her back and pulled her to his body.

She pressed her lips together. He met her mouth with his hot lips, heating the air around her. Warmth rushed through to her toes. She didn’t doubt his skills. Probably never would.

He stepped back. “Good evening, Leera.”

“Good evening.” With that, she slipped inside and locked the door.

So far, dates with Vaihan hadn’t gone how she’d thought they would. A light flashed on her phone, indicating she had a message. She kicked off her heels and set her bag on the table by the door. The doorknob turned once while she stood there. She waited, and it turned again. What was his deal with locks... Stranger still, she founded it cute. She smiled.

His touch still had her buzzing with need though, and holding in tears had caused her head to ache. She tiptoed to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and popped an aspirin in her mouth then downed the refreshing liquid.

The pot lights over the sink flooded the counter in soft beige. She hadn’t turned them off in months. Silence hummed in the house.

Tonight her home felt empty, and she’d wanted to bring a man into her bed. On her nightstand, between the phone and lamp sat her wedding photo–Jean tucked behind her, both their faces beaming with joy.