Truth & Lies: A Queen City Justice Novel (14 page)

His tongue teased the seal of her lips patiently until she let him in.

Okay. This was clearly more than an invitation to sleep.

“Deck?” she whispered.

He stopped and looked into her eyes. In them, she could see two paths and she knew, no matter what she did, she was going to take the wrong one. If she chose path A: Kiss him good night and scramble back to her own room, she would be missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity that wouldn’t be repeated once she told him the truth. Or path B: Throw caution to the wind and grab on tight.

She knew she’d regret either decision.

She so wasn’t a good enough person to do the right thing. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin, feeling the warmth of his breath on her face.

He shifted, and his erection pressed against her belly. God, he was tempting. Her hand, almost of its own volition slipped up his taut biceps.

Deck bent his head and nipped the tender side of her neck. A groan bubbled up from her throat. Oh God. She shouldn’t do this.

Pull away. Go back to your room. Stop!
The angel on her right shoulder was sending the right messages to her body, but they were getting intercepted by the devil on her left. She ignored them both and slid her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his neck to pull his head down.

His lips were hot against hers, his breath almost immediately uneven.

She slid her hands under his arms around his back, digging her nails into the smooth skin of his spine, and tried to ignore her conscience. Deck groaned in approval.

Dana allowed herself to cast her doubts away for the moment. This felt so right. She prayed that he’d forgive her.

Deck’s hands were a little rough, but she didn’t mind as he yanked at the belt of her robe and slipped his fingers up to cup her breast. He dropped a string of kisses down the side of her neck, pausing only for a second when he reached the edge of her robe.

She tried to protest, but the words never made it to her lips.

He ran his thumb over the crest of her bare nipple before replacing it with his mouth. An electrical storm skittered across every nerve in every erogenous zone in her body, and she shuddered. He nipped gently, and she whimpered.

“That hurt?” he asked in a rough voice.

She shook her head.

Dana slipped her hands down his back and under the sheet until she came into contact with the hot, bare skin of his butt. No pajamas.

That answered
that
question.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, taking a moment to appreciate her bare breast, nuzzling it before working his way up the side of her neck to her jaw. His lips met hers, hot, demanding.

God. He was going to hate her when he found out the truth.

Deck’s hands dove into her robe and around her body.

She couldn’t do this. Not with a big fat lie sitting between them. And she couldn’t tell him the truth without getting Sherwood’s approval.

“Stop!” she said, ripping herself out of his arms and gathering her robe around her.

Deck sat up quickly. “What? What happened?”

She couldn’t handle the temptation of his body revealed by the sheet and the hot passion still in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she flew toward the door.

Dana would have made a clean getaway if either he hadn’t knocked over the nightstand or she’d been looking where she was going. She went airborne and landed with a loud thump and a few words in Croatian she was glad he didn’t know. At least she’d remembered not to break her cover.

“Dana,” he said from the bed. “Wait.”

She tried to scramble to her feet, but he reached from the bed to impede her progress. “Stop.”

She looked up at him, knowing he could see the tears hovering on her lashes.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said, his eyes kind as he slowly reached for her.

She shifted her eyes down, unable to take the gentle look on his face. However, that was a big mistake. Emphasis on
big.
Deck was buck naked, and parts of him had yet to be clued in to the fact that this wasn’t going to happen.

Oh God.

“I cannot do this,” she whispered, trying to find another focus for her eyes. The bed was out, because that just reminded her of where she wanted to be and what she needed to stay away from. She shifted to the offending nightstand.

She would have been home free had it not been for the damned nightstand.

She pulled away from his outstretched hands and righted the table. If he touched her, it would be all over. She looked back over at him, standing there seemingly unaware of all his naked glory.

“What did I do?” he asked.

She grabbed the sheet from the bed and thrust it at him, finally meeting his eyes. A grin tugged slightly at the corners of his mouth, but he wrapped the sheet around his hips. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

He sat on the bed, then patted the space beside him in invitation.

Dana shook her head. “I should go,” she said, even as she backed toward the door.

“I’m not going to jump you. I promise. I’m not angry. Just come back and talk to me, okay?” He looked sad and confused and hurt, and she just couldn’t tear herself away.

She tightened the belt of her robe around her waist before sitting on the bed, as far away from him as she could get. He was temptation incarnate. She felt like she was being torn in two. She wanted nothing more than to launch herself at him. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

“Dana, are you a virgin?” he asked.

Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the last one she expected. She did manage to withhold her snort—but barely. She shook her head. “No.” And while the major relationships in her life put her in the way-less-experienced-than-many-of-her-contemporaries category, it was still a pretty long distance from virgin territory.

“Did I scare you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I need something more to work with here…”

And she wished she had some truth to offer him. She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t worth the certainty of pissing him off and having him throw her out, as well as the certainty that Sherwood would ensure that her insubordination would be the end of her career.

“I—” She swallowed. “I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve been going without for a long time. I’m not going to die waiting until you’re ready.”

Which made it sound a hell of a lot like he was planning to keep her around. And if her story were true, she suspected she would be thrilled with his understanding and compassion. She let her gaze fall to her lap, where she found her fingers worrying the ends of her robe.

Deck reached over and stilled her hands. “Oh, babe, come here. It’s all right.” He drew her to him, and even though she knew she shouldn’t risk the temptation of being back in his arms, she let him hold her. And soon she held him.

He stroked her back from her neck to the base of her spine, slowly, soothingly.

“Stay?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Sleep here.” Her eyes darted to his. “Just sleep,” he assured her.

Bad idea, Yenichek.

But she nodded and let him pull her back onto the bed and spoon himself around her. God. He felt so good. Strong and warm, and he smelled divine. She closed her eyes and matched her breathing to his, trying to tell herself that she wasn’t taking the worst possible path. There was something almost
more
intimate about sleeping—losing consciousness—with him, than if they’d actually had sex.

He snuggled his nose into her hair, and she could feel his warm breath even out against her neck as his body relaxed around her. He was almost instantly asleep.

Tomorrow
. She would talk to Sherwood and let him know that Deck
had
to be brought onto the case. And then she’d tell Deck first thing. Before anything else happened between them. She couldn’t live with herself if this deception went on any further.



Wednesday, December 3—2:00 a.m.

The Westin Hotel, Downtown Cincinnati, Ohio

He’d done it.

He lay in his hotel room, hard as a rock and wishing he could be with Anka tonight. But he couldn’t. There were rituals to be followed, and rushing would only ruin it for him in the end.

He knew that from experience.

He’d already broken one pattern, but that was okay. He thought the woman would make Anka a fine playmate. She was young, dark haired, and
not
a prostitute. He shuddered. That would have been intolerable.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so bold. Or that he hadn’t gotten caught. He’d taken an enormous risk, but it would be worth it.

It
had
to be.

As he’d driven past the park, he’d seen the women climbing in and out of their vans, their ungrateful spawn milling about like so many ants, tossing tiny footballs between them.

She’d been different. She hadn’t congregated with the masses at the side of the field. Instead, she’d taken up her post at the small concession stand at the far end. It had been blissfully simple to drive his rented sedan up the access road and park in the woods behind the small wood structure.

He’d figured out quickly by watching that during the breaks between quarters, the woman was very busy but as the pee-wee football game resumed, there was a lull.

A quick wander around the park and he found that he could see the scoreboard as the last quarter began.

The woman began tidying up, bagging up trash and placing the day’s cash into a bank bag that read:
Butler County Pee Wee Football League.

When she took the trash out to the bucket behind the shack, he made his move.

She started when she first noticed him, but it only took a grin and placing his hands in the air for her to feel safe again. He explained that he was looking for his niece, who’d wandered off. His brief show of worry had her eating out of the palm of his hand.

He hadn’t even had to ask her to help with the search.

She’d volunteered.

It was the last volunteer activity she’d ever do.



Wednesday, December 3—6:00 a.m.

Oakley Neighborhood, Cincinnati, Ohio

Deck woke, knowing something was different and feeling excited about beginning the day for the first time in more than a year. Probably because he’d slept better than he had in a year and a half. It didn’t take more than a second for that something different to register with a word.

Dana.

She was still nestled in his arms, his nose buried in the fragrant mass of her hair. During the night, his hand had had found its way into her robe to cover her breast, and his fingers reflexively squeezed around his soft handful.

For the first time in his life, he’d found a woman he thought he might actually be able to love. For the first time in nine months, he was feeling hope. For the first time ever, he was considering the whole enchilada. Wedding, the pitter-patter of little feet, and a white picket fence.

God, if he felt like this without even having sex with her, imagine how it would be after they did.

Dana stretched and yawned, an adorable little squeak coming from the back of her throat as she snuggled back into his chest.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, unable to keep the grin from his face.

“G’mornin’,” she mumbled. She stretched and yawned again. “What time is it?”

How strange that her accent wasn’t as thick when she was sleepy. He’d have thought it would be even heavier. He glanced over at the clock. “It’s a little after six.”

“That’s criminal. Go back to sleep,” she said, tugging the covers up and tucking them under her chin, burying deeper. Suddenly, she came to a complete stop.

He only noticed because he’d already frozen as well. “Uh, Dana? What’s with your accent?” he asked very carefully, hoping for an explanation that would make sense.

“Oh shit,” he heard her whisper into the duvet.

Deck pulled away from her and sat up, his heart freezing to its core.

Dana turned toward him. Her eyes were…

Haunted
was the best word he could come up with.

“Deck,” she said, reaching toward him.

He moved back, out of her reach.

“We need to talk. I—I haven’t been honest with you, but it was for a good reason and I—”

Well, wasn’t that clear-as-day English? What the hell was she up to? Who the hell was she?

It didn’t really matter.

Fuck.
He’d thought she was different. He slid his legs over the side of the bed, pulling as far away from her as he could get.

“Just hear me out.”

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the rasp in his voice.

“My name is Dana Yenichek and I’m an agent with the FBI.”

“What?” Of all the things she could have said, that was so far out of left field that he hadn’t seen it coming.

“You’ve heard about the string of serial murders in the Tri-state area?”

He nodded.

“The women were all mail-order brides.”

It took Deck a full few seconds to pull back from his anger and put his cop hat back on. “So what the fuck are you doing here?” he asked harshly.

She winced as he swore, but he didn’t care.

“Ideally, we hoped that I’d wind up on the same path as the women who were killed. Instead, I ended up with you.”

“What? I’m not a suspect? How can you be sure?” He could strangle her right this moment and not have a second thought about it.

She gave him a slightly patronizing look. “You were still at Bethesda when the first murder occurred.”

“So I
was
a suspect?” he asked, outraged.

“Briefly,” she said. “We looked at you when you first contacted me in Dubrovnik.”

“So why didn’t you tell me the truth once you knew it wasn’t me?” he asked. “You lied.” The last came out as a choked whisper. He actually felt tears burn at the back of his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, and thankfully, they stayed away. “You pretended not to speak English, for God’s sake. Why?”