Betrayed by a Kiss (8 page)

Elizabeth only had eyes for Marnie. “You have to stay.” Marnie acted as if Elizabeth hadn’t spoken.

Dane felt as if he were missing something. “Marnie is staying. Isn’t that right, Marnie?” She glared at him and then walked down the private drive toward the road. He definitely was missing something.

Harper jumped from one foot to the other, trying to ward off the cold. “What’s going on?”

“Give me a second, Harper.” He chased Marnie down, saw her stuff her hands into her borrowed yellow jacket. Alice’s jacket. “I will break into that facility,” he called out after her, “and I will steal those files. You don’t need to be there. Just give me the information I need to make this happen, and I’ll get it done. You’ll stay safe. I’ll get what I want. I don’t see a problem here.” Now that he knew the files existed, she had to know nothing would stop him from getting them.

“Your way is too dangerous.” She looked over her shoulder, saw Elizabeth following, listening in. “We have responsibilities. You more than me.”

“Those files will end this. I need them to protect my family. I’ll protect you, too. We can do this without risking your life. We’ll find a way.” Elizabeth increased her gait to stay close to Marnie.

“Elizabeth! Aren’t you cold? I’m cold.” Harper hurried to her niece, not touching her but staying within reach. “Dane?”

Marnie stopped, confronting him. “What about your life? They’ll have walls up, cyber and otherwise. Those files might as well not exist they’re so buried right now. Without me working the server, you don’t have a chance in hell of retrieving the files. And you don’t have me!”

Harper cleared her throat to get their attention. “Someone tell me what’s going on, please.” She glanced at Elizabeth and then lowered her voice. “Are we safe?”

Dane nodded. “We’re safe.”

Harper’s relief was obvious. “When we get the files, we’ll give them to the police, right? Make this their problem.”

Marnie threw her hands up in frustration and turned away, walking faster now. “Do whatever you want.”

Harper cringed. “Sorry. Did I say something wrong?” She took two steps backward. “Dane, it looks like you and Marnie have some things to work out.” Harper took Elizabeth’s hand and tugged her backward. “I’m freezing. So Elizabeth must be freezing.” Elizabeth tugged her hand away from Harper and followed Marnie. “All righty, then. I’m getting a coat. Okay, Elizabeth? I’ll get her a coat, Dane. Keep an eye on her and I’ll be right back.” She hustled to the house.

Marnie kept walking. Dane caught up with her and his daughter. The road was within sight. He saw headlights come and go and gauged how traumatized Elizabeth would be if he threw Marnie over his shoulder, kicking and screaming, and carried her back to the house. She had just as big a target on her back as he did. The woman had risked everything to help him and lost everything but her life last night. He couldn’t repay that by allowing her to wander in the night, cold and vulnerable.

Marnie stopped so abruptly he bumped into her. She grabbed his shirt and tugged, surprising him. “I want to kill the company in a different way. Drain their funds. Make it impossible for them to continue.”

It was a great idea, but… “That won’t bring me Alice’s killer.”

His words upset her. “You have something to lose, MacLain. Something precious. You don’t have the right to die when people rely on you, when they love you.” She was shivering, whether from the cold or her emotions. “Let me do it my way,” she said. “It’s time for me to go.”

He couldn’t think when she was pressed against him like that, so he stepped back. “Your way means Alice’s killer won’t pay for his crime, and Whitman will only lose money. I lost my wife. I’ve lost
my life
to this case.”

“Not your life. Not yet.”

Dane felt Elizabeth’s arms reach around both of them, grabbing, hugging, and tugging them together again. It was so unlike her, he froze, needing a moment to process. Marnie tried to lean away, also surprised, but Elizabeth was insistent, and to Dane’s mind, that meant Elizabeth won. He grabbed Marnie to him and hugged his daughter close. He couldn’t remember the last time he was the recipient of one of these, and he wasn’t about to allow Marnie’s reticence to cheat him of this hug. Elizabeth smiled at him, and Dane smiled back.

Harper arrived, out of breath, wearing a coat and holding one for Elizabeth. “What? What did I miss?”

“Marnie is going to help Dad.” Elizabeth pressed her cheek to Marnie’s shoulder. “And then it will be over.” Dane was rendered speechless. Marnie couldn’t have looked more horrified.

“That’s right, Elizabeth. It will be over,” he said. Marnie looked pissed again. “We can do this.” He would. With or without her help.

“Family is more important,” Marnie hissed.

He wondered how someone so smart could be so dumb. “If we don’t get Alice’s killer, my family will never be safe.”

Marnie closed her eyes, and then her shoulders sagged. She rested her forehead on his chest, groaning. “We’re going to regret this.”

“Regret what?” Harper exchanged glances with Dane.

There it was again. Hope. It burst in his chest and made him feel unbeatable. “I’m breaking into Whitman Enterprises and stealing files that will prove who killed Alice.”

Marnie groaned against his chest. “We’re breaking in.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t feel right about bringing more trouble to Marnie’s door.

“It will be dangerous.” She peeked at Elizabeth, and Dane saw her worry. It was nice to see someone other than him and Harper caring about his daughter.

When Dane tried to catch Marnie’s gaze, she looked away quickly, blushing. They were so close it was impossible to miss the signs. She was attracted to him. He smiled, liking the heat of her against his chest.

Because the feeling was mutual.

Chapter Eight

Marnie could see Harper hovering over them as if she were the fifth wheel, and it made her feel bad for MacLain’s sister. The longer the hug continued, the more uncomfortable Marnie became, until she was squirming. Touchy, touchy, feely, feely wasn’t Marnie’s bailiwick. No, sir. She lifted her hands awkwardly and waved Harper over, hoping she’d peel Elizabeth off.

Harper misunderstood and joined the group hug. “So we’re happy?” she said. “I can do happy.” Marnie wanted to die. Just as she found herself getting weepy, Dane chuckled.

“Okay, okay, you guys.” Dane kissed his daughter’s forehead and peeled her off Marnie. “It’s cold out here. Elizabeth, put your coat on.”

Harper was laughing as she untangled herself from the group hug. She gave a shivering Elizabeth her coat and hustled the girl back toward the house, though Elizabeth kept peeking back, eyeing Marnie, as if afraid she’d leave despite assurances. Marnie could have set her mind to rest. Until Whitman was stopped, the damage done to his victims was on Marnie. She’d help the MacLains, and then she’d move on and finish what she’d started, because not only did she need to expose what had happened to the MacLains and hundreds, maybe thousands before them, she had to make sure it couldn’t happen again. But her plan could wait. MacLain wouldn’t.

It was so dark the stars seemed to hover overhead, and though the cold was biting, she felt overheated. She and Dane watched Elizabeth and Harper disappear into the house before either acknowledged the other’s presence. A small breeze nudged his scent toward her, and before she could stop herself, she inhaled sharply, relishing it like an alcoholic sniffing an emptied shot glass. The sound caught his attention, and he didn’t seem to know what to say to her. She could see it in his eyes.

“It’s okay, MacLain. You’re right. I owe you, and I pay my debts. Don’t add me to your list of people to feel guilty about.”

“Guilt is the last thing that comes to mind when I think of you.”

She didn’t think he meant to sound so sensual when he said it, but he did. He knew it, too, and it embarrassed him. It didn’t embarrass Marnie. An exciting little shiver ran down her body, and there were those butterflies again.

To be alone, under the stars with her crush, no one shooting at them—her heart screamed opportunity, but her mind snickered. She wasn’t in her pajamas watching them Skype. As much as she enjoyed the fantasy of him enfolding her in an embrace, kissing her with abandon—with her wearing heels and a drop-dead gorgeous dress—it was a fantasy. If she kissed him now, it would confuse him at the least, horrify him at worst. She’d spent two months analyzing him, and she was a quick study. They were from completely different backgrounds. They thought differently, made different choices, valued different things. Hell, they were afraid of different things. There was no way he could understand the workings of Marnie’s mind, and if he did, it would horrify him. Then there was her crush. She’d allowed her fascination with him to turn into something inappropriate. He’d feel obliged to protect her from it. He was that type of guy. The nice type. Admirable. He had integrity. More butterflies assailed her.

MacLain kept his hands in his front pockets, staring at the sky. Moonlight allowed her to see his breath fog before him, the sharp angles of his handsome face, and the furrow of his brow. He was fresh off the win of her agreement to help. It wasn’t a great leap to assume he feared she wouldn’t be easy to control. He’d be right. She didn’t begrudge him the sentiment. Men like MacLain needed control. How else could they save the world? But she recognized his drive, because she had it, too. His need for justice was a version of her need to be legit. They were both trying to define who they were in the world. No, Marnie was not a person who could be controlled. He was right to worry.

It was time to put him out of his misery and give him something safe to talk about. “Elizabeth is lucky to have you.”

He nodded, humbly. His confidence as a father had taken a hit this year. “You got her talking.”

She hadn’t. That was all Elizabeth. “Don’t bring me into that. If she decides to clam up again, I don’t want to take the fall.” She walked past him toward the house, because she was starting to moon over him and feared revealing her crush. It would be humiliating, and she was already feeling off balance. She tried to ignore the sound of his boots crunching on the gravel behind her and waited for him to catch up and walk beside her, but he didn’t. So then she kept worrying he was staring at her ass. Harper’s clothes were too big for her, so the pants were saggy at the seat. Once again, she was not looking her best. Marnie couldn’t catch a break.

In the house, nerves strung tightly, she headed straight to the refrigerator, pulled out two beers, hoping alcohol would ease what ailed her. She used the counter’s edge to open the bottles and handed him one before taking a pull off hers. It didn’t help. She still felt unaccountably nervous around him.

She sat, sneaking looks at MacLain as he sipped his beer. He sat across from her, near the radiator next to the window. Beer. Silence. And MacLain. It was better than Skype, ice cream, and her pajamas. He pulled the flash drive from his pocket and placed it on the table between them.

Shit. “I told you,” she said. “There is no way to get the files off it.”

“It might be all we get. It’s possible to figure out decryption codes. I did some research today.”

She sipped her beer and decided to cut him some slack. MacLain didn’t know what he didn’t know. “If cracking the code was a feasible option, I’d already have that flash drive in the hands of a hundred feds. Without a decryption key, the code could take years and thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment. Who would invest that kind of time and money on my word? And I don’t have that kind of money. Or time, for that matter.”

“Well, the feds aren’t doing anything on my word, either. I’ve tried. Worn out my welcome, actually. They’re of the opinion I’ve gone round the bend. Says so in my file.” He snorted derisively. “If I’d known punching the lieutenant meant a diagnosis of PTSD to stay out of jail, I might have kept my temper.” He picked up the flash drive and studied it. “So we’re looking at a big fat no on the flash drive.”

“Unfortunately.” She felt bad for the guy. He wanted this to be easy, and it would be anything but. “We’ll get the files. It won’t be easy, cheap, or safe, but we’ll get them. Maybe you should start thinking about what to do when we have them.”

“MPD, FBI, DA, you name it. If it has an initial, they’re getting a copy of it. And the newspapers. This evidence will not disappear.” His expression gave her a hint of his well-earned anger.

“The video will leak to the public.”

“What? Why?”

She’d figured that hadn’t occurred to him. Not much he could do about it, but best to get used to that reality now. “Your wife’s murder and the video of Elizabeth being tortured will be monetized when it leaks. YouTube, definitely to the deep web. Product placement will net a fortune.” He looked horrified. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst of it. “Then it will chase you and your family for the rest of your lives, a mouse click away.” MacLain stared at her, as if he didn’t understand. “It’s the flip side of the justice system. It strips a victim of privacy.”

He took a long swig of his beer, slammed it on the table and watched as the foam grew in the bottle. “That ship sailed when she was kidnapped and her mother was murdered. My daughter needs closure. I’m going to give it to her.”

She could break into the office again, contrary to the line she’d been feeding him for his own safety, and was almost sure she could steal the information again, but she had no confidence she could get out again. Yes, MacLain was trained. His credentials filled a large file, but so did every goon that said
how high
when Whitman said to jump. This job scared her, even with MacLain’s help.

It was late. Gulping down the beer, she stood and felt the alcohol hit her hard. She was tired and still weak from yesterday’s traumas. “I’m tired.”

“I’ll make coffee.” He shook his head. “We have to plan.”

“Tomorrow.” She needed to get her head on straight before she started working the problem. “You’ll need to show me what you have, those files you spoke of. You said they’re in one of the rooms upstairs?”

“Yes. I’ll show you whenever you want.” His body language and tone told her he wasn’t happy she was calling it a night, and he was looking around the kitchen as if searching for an excuse to keep her there. Marnie kind of liked that. It felt remarkably like he was wooing her, though she knew that was ridiculous. People didn’t woo people like her. They used her. A means to an end.

“Don’t worry, MacLain.” She touched his arm. “I’m good at what I do. I specialize in the impossible.” His arm was buff, and through the thin material of his flannel shirt she could feel the delineation of his muscles. Hot to the touch.

MacLain stood, met her gaze and paused. Then he embraced her and pressed his lips to hers with enough force to bend her over his bicep. She supposed the pause had been his signal, a silent request for acquiescence. She’d just been too distracted by his muscles to see it for what it was. Thankfully. If she’d known, she probably would have screwed everything up. As it was, she was fighting a gurgle of glee, a tittering and an eye roll of shyness. He was kissing her!

He ran his tongue the length of her lips’ seam. Marnie gasped as the tickle unbalanced her. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pressing his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her. The kiss was everything she’d fantasized and more, because it was real. His scent, the feel of him, arms about her, the absolute mastery of his kiss—it was real and all for her. Marnie. Her crush was kissing her like she’d dreamed of, and it was heavenly. She kissed him back with as much gusto as her trembling lips could muster. Fingers biting into his shoulders, testing his strength, he had her toes curling in her boots.

When his hand ran down her back, leaving a trail of tingling loveliness in its wake, it settled on her ass, pressing her hips close; his arousal was impossible to miss, which she supposed had been his intent. He wanted her and wanted her to know it. Well, hot damn, she wanted him back. She moaned into his mouth, threading her fingers through his silky, thick hair. He needed a haircut, but she hoped he’d delay, because it felt amazing.

Warmth, sweet as molasses, grew inside her as he kept her pressed to his chest, kissing her as if there was nothing he’d rather do. Her heart was racing, her palms sweating. This felt too good to be true…

Marnie stiffened, and things fell into place. She pushed out of his arms. “Shit!” Out of breath and riding high on desire, she glared at him, feeling cheated. “I already said I’d help you. You don’t need to add sex to the kitty.” As contingency plans went, it was a good one, but Marnie refused to be on the receiving end of that grifter tool. “I’m a big girl. I have my priorities straight.”

He shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Why did you kiss me?”

He took a moment to think and then very simply said, “Because I couldn’t help myself.” It didn’t sound like a lie. He took a step toward her.

Marnie didn’t consciously tell her feet to move, but suddenly she was in his arms, kissing him again. His hand reached under her T-shirt and cupped her breast. She gasped. He excited the hell out of her, and he was the best kisser she’d ever kissed. She found the buttons on his shirt and worked them until his flannel hung open. She needed to touch his chest, his glorious chest… Dragging the flat of her palms from his pecs to his abs, Marnie broke the kiss so she could see what felt like heaven.

“What the hell—” Harper stood at the kitchen’s entrance. Marnie and MacLain flew apart, each wide-eyed and startled. “Oh, well, I’m sorry—” Harper looked equal parts mortified and apologetic.

Marnie didn’t know what to do. With a bereft last look at MacLain’s washboard stomach, she hurried past Harper, taking the stairs two at a time. When she slammed the bedroom door behind her, she leaned against it, trying to think. Then she laughed, but she sounded like a crazy person, so she covered her mouth, trembling in reaction. Wow! What the hell just happened? A giggle escaped, muffled by her hands.

Damn. This was his room. She knew it. It smelled of him. She pressed her ear to the door, wondering if he’d follow her upstairs. She heard nothing.

Throwing herself on the bed, she pulled quilts that smelled of MacLain to her face and rolled to her side. Thoughts of his hands on her, his kisses—it was all she could think about, all she wanted to think about. She was shaking in reaction, and then suddenly she was afraid.

Reality, the bitch that she was, would not be denied. There was nothing more dangerous than wanting something you couldn’t have. What was she doing? She’d been down this road before. She knew better.

Marnie threw her feet over the edge of the bed, patted the quilt a few times, and then forced herself to do what was necessary. She walked to the bedroom door and locked it for her own good. MacLain’s, too. Then she lay back in bed. She told herself she wasn’t waiting to see if he would follow her. She wasn’t waiting to see if he wanted to continue that crazy, passionate embrace they’d started in the kitchen. She wasn’t. Because then she’d have to care if he didn’t come to the door. She’d have to mourn her fantasies, two months in the making, and set them free despite knowing she and MacLain would be attached at the hip for the foreseeable future. She wasn’t sure which was worse, him not coming, or her sending him away.

Who was she kidding? If he didn’t come, she’d die.

It took five minutes. He tried the knob, found it was locked, and then he knocked. She wanted to open the door. She wanted a lot in life, but there were some things she’d learned weren’t for people like Marnie. Reach for it, and you got burned. Dane MacLain was one of those things. She’d rather burn for him now than be burned by him later.

He didn’t knock again. But once was enough for her. That once would keep her warm, would fuel her dreams and be consolation for things that couldn’t be. She gathered the quilt to her chest and curled up into a ball, wondering how she’d gotten herself in this mess.