The Eligible Suspect (7 page)

“I told you! I saw him. He killed her!”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I
know
he did.”

Disappointment and the dagger-sharp hurt gripped him. Damen was lying. To him. How could he help him if he didn’t trust him?

Demarco leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it. Isn’t that why you’re here? You want to stop me.”

“From doing what? Are you going to kill him?”

Damen shot to his feet and walked unsteadily to the bottle of booze on the kitchen counter. Demarco followed, watching his brother fill the glass.

“When did you start drinking like that?”

Damen didn’t answer, just faced him and took a drink.

“You’re dealing drugs and drinking too much and now you’re contemplating killing someone. What’s going on with you, Damen?”

“Maybe I’m tired of trying so hard to be like you.”

He was never like him, and Demarco wasn’t aware that he’d been trying to be. What he was saying was that the only way he knew was the illegal way. He thrived in that environment.

“Why don’t you come home with me? Forget this madness. You can stay with me and Cora until you figure out something to do. Just as long as you stop doing the drugs and drinking, and for God’s sake, don’t kill anyone...” He’d almost said, “anyone else.”

His brother stared at him for a long moment. For a second or two he thought he’d reached him.

“I give you permission to stop trying to help me, Demarco. You’ve been there for me my whole life, and I appreciate that. More than you know. But I have to make my own way, don’t you see?”

“Yes, but you can’t make your own way breaking the law.” He stepped forward and took the glass from him before he took another drink.

“That’s what I do, Demarco. I’ve been doing it for years. I’m good at it. For once, I’m good at something you aren’t.” He took the glass back and gulped the entire contents.

“You’re going to end up in prison.” Or worse. “You won’t get away with it much longer.”

“Why? Are you going to turn me in?”

Demarco just looked at him. He could turn him in. He could cast doubt on Korbin’s guilt.

“I can’t protect you if you keep going on the way you are.”

“I’m not asking you to. I never asked you to.” He slammed the glass down. “I think you should leave.”

“Damen, please. Listen to me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

That was the wrong thing to say. His brother’s face darkened with the insult as he perceived it.

“Just get out of here,” Damen said.

“Come with me.” They’d have to stay at that lodge he saw on the way here. The stormy roads were too bad.

“Get out!” Damen roared. “You think you’re so much better than me. Well, not anymore. I’m doing things my way now!”

“You’re making a mistake, Damen.”

With a roar, Damen shoved him. He stumbled back but caught his balance. Damn it. He was going to make his brother listen.

Charging, he shoved Damen and sent him crashing into the table. Chairs tipped over as his body fell.

“You’re coming with me.” Demarco bent to lift his brother off the floor and then threw him toward the door. “And you’re going to straighten your life out if I have to institutionalize you!”

“You’d do that, too, wouldn’t you?” He scrambled to his feet. “Mr. Perfect that you are.” He crashed into him.

Demarco slammed against a wall and couldn’t block Damen’s punch to his stomach. Bent over, he was kneed by Damen next. He staggered away from the wall and blocked another punch, but missed the next to his face. He fell backward onto his backside. Tasting blood, he watched his brother breathing hard, his hair a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

When he didn’t come after him again, Demarco climbed to his feet, holding his stomach.
Screw this.
He went to his jacket.

“What are you going to do?” his brother asked.

Wincing as he put his jacket on, Demarco only looked at his brother, a stranger to him now. Then he turned and left.

Chapter 6

T
he blizzard still raged into early afternoon the following day. Korbin had ventured out to open one of the wood planks over the window so he could see the snow. All that had done was cake the window in snow. He turned to see Savanna playing a game of solitaire. They’d started with a game of chess last night and another this morning, followed by a few card games.

She really was the type who needed to stay busy. And for her, the best “busy” was entertainment or crafts. He’d fallen into the sight of her animated face, her smiles and the happy, contented glow in her impossibly blue eyes. Her occasional laughs.

Too much time was passing. He had to get off this mountain. Get what he could on Damen and then prove his innocence. Not reveal things about himself that he never revealed to anyone. His wife’s death. Had he ever spoken of her like that to anyone? No. It hurt too much. He’d almost confessed everything to Savanna. All the details of Niya’s death. Almost. Her evasiveness about her fiancé stopped him, and he was at odds with himself over why.

Maybe because he never did talk about his wife. He kept it bottled up. While some would argue that wasn’t healthy, neither was the agony of her absence, the effect of it. Savanna buried her pain just as he did. They were silent sufferers. Savanna’s preference not to air her torment had enabled him to do the same. But there was a nagging realization that Savanna, someone who understood his struggle with loss, would listen with a sympathetic and nonjudgmental ear if he chose to unload some of his burden. And perhaps she could unload some of hers, because he would know to only listen and not push for too much information. He had a feeling they could help each other. Did she sense the same?

Korbin harbored more than Niya’s death, though. His pain included Niya’s daughter. Fallon Ellgard was from a previous relationship and refused to talk to him. He’d tried several times after Niya died. He’d succeeded only once before the funeral, when Fallon had accused him of killing her mother. She’d stood far apart from him at the service, and he hadn’t forced his presence on her. After trying a few more times after that, he’d decided to give her some time to get over her mother’s death.

There was too much burden. Niya. He couldn’t seem to let go of her. Didn’t want to let go. She was taken from him too early. His life had fallen apart after that. At least, that’s how he felt. Would he ever be able to reach her daughter? Would she ever forgive him? He needed her to. Maybe then he could begin to get past Niya’s death. Until then, he had a fierce obligation to remain loyal to Niya. Betraying her was unthinkable. Women had tried to lure him and failed. While he couldn’t say Savanna was trying to lure him, she had come closer than anyone in succeeding. What made her so different? Maybe it was the wealth they had in common. And their heartaches. Regardless, he’d steer clear of the temptation. Aside from honoring Niya with his loyalty, he didn’t think he ever wanted to feel the way he had for her again. He’d had his one true love. He didn’t need another.

If he could walk away from Savanna now, he would. Instead, he was stuck in this yurt. Though spacious for a yurt, it was still confining.

Korbin went over to her and sat at the table where she had all the cards spread, satisfied smile soft on her mouth. She only glanced up at him before resuming her concentration.

Solitude really did suit this woman.

“You could stay here all winter, couldn’t you.” He stated rather than asked.

That brought her look up to him, where it stayed. Then she scanned the interior of their snowy lair.

“I might run out of food.” Her gaze hit the window. “Not water, though.”

“Why do you like it so much?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always been that way. Although, my mother seems to have forgotten that. She thinks I moved here to get away.”

“And you didn’t?”

Placing the card she held down onto the table, her happy contentment faded. This was not something she freely spoke about. Her personal affairs were tightly guarded secrets. He didn’t think she’d answer.

“Yes, and no. I went back to my roots, that’s all.”

“After your fiancé called it off?” he asked.

And again to his amazement, she answered. “Yes, except he didn’t call it off. I did.”

He could see the breakup had been very painful for her. “Sorry.” She’d told him that he’d found someone else.

She leaned back against her chair and stared across the yurt.

“How did you catch him?” he asked.

She turned back to him. “What makes you think I caught him?”

He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

Picking up the card again, she tapped it on the table. “He ran a kids’ play center, you know, the kind that have all the inflatable jumpers and bounce castles. He met the mom of one of the kids. One night he didn’t come home when he’d said he’d be there and he wasn’t answering his phone. So I drove to the jump center. He didn’t even lock the front door. I walked right in, even though it was late and no one else was there. He was in his office with her. Going at it.”

She turned her head, the pain of memory sticking with her even after all this time.

“They didn’t even know I was there,” she said. “About an hour later, he came home and I called off the wedding. That was seven years ago.”

And she still wasn’t over it. “He never knew you caught him?”

Slowly she shook her head. “He asked why. I just told him I thought I loved him but I realized I didn’t.” She got a faraway look. “He wasn’t even upset. Not that I expected him to be.”

“You loved him.”

Now she lowered her head, letting go of the card and putting her hands in her lap.

“Still love him,” he said.

Now her head jerked up and she looked at him. “No. Not anymore. I did love him, yes. I loved him very much. It took me a long time to get past him.”

“Then why are you still so upset about it?”

She averted her gaze. “I keep wondering the same thing. I guess it’s because I don’t understand how a man can ask a woman to marry him and then so easily end up with someone else.”

“It’s probably the same reason that sort of thing happens to me. They’re in it for money until they realize money isn’t enough.”

“I suspected he wasn’t totally in it for me. He was always annoyed whenever I talked about my family or we had to go to a gathering. I think he felt threatened. He had a thriving business and made decent money, but nothing compared to my dad.”

Korbin nodded. “Was he the last man you’ve been serious about?”

To that he received a closed look, much the same as he’d received when he’d first arrived. “Why are you asking me all of these questions?”

“Because I’m curious. And I know what a struggle dating can be when you have rich parents.” He also knew all about loss.

Her eyes lowered as though she were trying to hide the smile that threatened. After a moment she looked up. “There was someone else, but it wasn’t as serious. We saw each other for a while, but we never talked about marriage. He was a lawyer in Denver. I thought we hit it off, but I was wrong. That ended a few weeks ago.” She kept meeting men who wouldn’t commit.

“Well, you just might be as jaded as I am.”

She exhaled derisively. “You’re probably jaded more.”

“I don’t like thinking I’ll be alone the rest of my life, but I can’t say losing Niya didn’t change my perspective.”

“Yeah. I get that. I’m still on birth control even though I know I’m nowhere near ready for another relationship. I guess I don’t trust myself with men anymore.”

He chuckled, finding it much too easy to talk to her.

Smiling back, she met his eyes and saw into them a little more than he liked.

“Is it ever not fresh?” she asked.

She hadn’t asked for herself. She may have gotten over her fiancé enough to move on, to try again to find that special someone to spend the rest of her life with, but it was him she doubted. His wife’s death would always be fresh.

Digging Savanna out of that avalanche had brought everything back in vivid color. He could smell, taste and feel every second of the memories that were dredged up about Niya’s death.

“Not for me,” he said. Best if she knew now he was no better than the last two heartbreakers she’d wasted her love on.

He felt too much of a kinship with her to even consider starting anything that might hurt her again.

Damn. Now he’d need something to pass the time.

“Let’s play something else.” He gestured to the cards.

* * *

Savanna put a card down on the table and watched Korbin. His questions earlier should have made her feel interrogated, picked apart, but she’d sensed his need to know. Why had he? Their chemistry had him as ruffled as her. He’d surely had women who’d tried to tempt him before, but Savanna
had
tempted him. She felt it in his kiss. Now he was backing off.

Wasn’t she? Savanna didn’t see herself getting serious over someone any time soon. Isn’t that how he was? It struck her as sad. And then...necessary. For both of them. She began to wonder, though. Was he ruined for any other woman? Was she ruined for other men?

“What?” he asked.

Realizing she was staring at him, she sent her attention back to the game. “Nothing.”

“You cocked your head at me.”

“I did?” She played another card.

“What were you thinking?” he pressed.

She watched him play a card and then decided to forge ahead. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He chuckled. “It’s my turn.”

He had asked her some personal questions, too. She smiled. “I was just wondering how many women you’ve been with.”

He leaned back on his chair, perplexed. “Been with? As in...” He twirled his finger to indicate she wasn’t sure what. Whoopee?

“Yeah. Since your wife died.” She played her turn.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone,” he said.

She should be happy to hear that. Instead, that revelation bred anxiety. His loyalty to his wife was impenetrable. Whether he remained faithful even after her death out of love or guilt, his honor was intact. What woman would earn a worthy place in his heart? It seemed an impossible feat. He wasn’t ready to love again. She’d seen it in him many times. The guilt after he kissed her.

How many affirmations did she need before she stopped toying with him? Toying with the possibility of sleeping with him? Or more. How could she be certain anything would develop from that? His devotion to his wife would prevent him from letting a night of passion build into anything more than that. A night of passion.

There was no denying they had passion. But what about love? Did she have it in her to take that kind of gamble again? And did their passion hold that much of a promise? It felt that way to her, but what about him?

“I should learn from you,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

He hadn’t heard her.

“Never mind.” She wished she hadn’t said anything.

“No, tell me.”

“I said I should learn from you. The way you abstain.”

“Are you saying you’re easy?” He teased, but this was a major topic for both of them.

She didn’t return his humor. “Not sexually.”

There was no mistaking her meaning. She trusted too easily in the men she fell in love with. In that respect, yes, she was easy.

“You’re not easy if you fall in love,” he said, serious now.

“I’m no good at picking men.” He’d be another bad choice.

“I’ve never looked at it that way. Picking someone. It just happens.”

She looked away. Had it just happened with her fiancé? No, she’d chosen him. But the one after that...him she hadn’t chosen.

“Either way,” she finally said, “I always lose.”

He studied her as he digested that comment, which was simple truth to her. She wasn’t insecure. She’d lost love twice. A fact. What wasn’t fact yet was whether she’d lose again.

“I suppose, then, that we have something in common in that regard,” he said.

“Do we?” Had he guessed the source of her curiosity?

“I believe that’s why you asked me if I’d been with anyone,” he said.

Caught, she joined him for a long stare, communicating without words the understanding of how it felt to have love taken away. Possibility hung in the air, as well. This uncommon attraction between them. This bond they had. Understanding each other. Falling into a mystical abyss of feeling.

Uncomfortable, Savanna scooted back her chair and stood. Leaving him there with the game, she went to one of the beds and removed her clothes down to her base layer, long thermal tights and matching top.

With her back to him, she didn’t hear him come up behind her. His hand slid over her hip to her abdomen, drawing a startled breath from her. Then he stepped closer and put his head down beside hers.

“Let me show you something.”

What was he going to show her? Sweet temptation burned through her. She didn’t resist when he eased her to face him, pulling her against him. Savanna inhaled another surprised breath and didn’t have time to recover from the feel of his hard body so close to hers. Heat swept her away. He sank his fingers into her hair, tipping her head back without tugging too much.

His gaze drifted over her face, twin flames licking her features.

He put his mouth on hers.

Savanna stopped breathing and she stared up at the detail of his eyes while fire roared through her. He angled his head, sliding his mouth over hers. She parted her lips, unable to stop herself, and he took the hesitant surrender. His tongue brushed hers, his hand holding her head to him. He pressed harder, asking for more. Demanding. With a sound of want she had no control over, she let him have all of her.

He sank into a deeper kiss with a groan that fanned her desire. She slid her arms over his shoulders and let herself forget how little she knew him. She dragged her eyes closed to sensation.

He ravaged her mouth with sensuous kisses, tasting, delving, taking her tongue in a deep and erotic dance. She lost herself in him, gave herself over to the feelings he stirred in her. She caught her breath when he warmed a fevered path down her neck, only to find that she needed even more air. She arched her back as he neared her breasts, felt them rub against his chest.