Dangerous (The Complete Erotic Romance Novel) (58 page)

U

In which Kendra is defiant...

Chapter Twenty-Two

It couldn’t be true.

Yet it had to be true.

Had Alana deceived him?

Reid tugged on his workout clothes and headed to the gym in the basement. The only way he’d clear his thoughts was by working out.

Hard.

The weights were arranged just the way he liked them. He surveyed the room with approval as he laced up his shoes. Jackson had, once again, thought of everything. There was even a large mirror for him to watch his own posture, just the way it had been at the other house.

He warmed up, jogged in place, dropped for twenty push-ups, and then headed for the weight bench. He loaded up a little more weight than the day before, knowing he’s need it.

Reid had loved Alana. He had trusted her. He wasn’t gullible and he wasn’t stupid. He’d had her investigated before they became involved, and he’d hired a reputable firm to do the research. Kendra’s assumption that Alana had stalked him was shocking, not just because it challenged what he had believed since meeting his wife but also because Kendra was so confident and quick in her assessment.

She couldn’t be right—but experience had shown Kendra’s intuition was pretty much as good as his own. Maybe better. She was an excellent judge of character.

After all, he’d thought Ethan was harmless.

Kendra had said there was something dangerous about Ethan, but Reid had dismissed her impression.

He’d failed her.

Reid grunted and did another ten reps.

Just as he’d failed Alana. He should never have left her leave the house alone. He should have anticipated whoever had murdered her.

But he hadn’t had a clue.

Reid’s body strained as he pushed himself harder. Total control meant total responsibility, and that was a serious commitment for Reid.

Could Alana’s killer be after Kendra? The idea shook Reid as nothing else could. He felt his heart skip and knew it wasn’t the extra weight. Could he be with Kendra, knowing he might not be able to completely protect her?

Reid did more reps and worked through the problem, weighing the evidence on both sides. Kendra had never known Alana. Another person might think she was jumping to conclusions about Reid’s wife. It was possible that Kendra might feel competitive, or at least be worried he might compare her to his wife. Another woman might have disparaged Alana to raise herself in his estimation.

Not Kendra. She would never do that.

The truth was there was no comparison between the two women. Kendra challenged Reid and surprised him. She was exactly what he’d never thought he wanted, yet she had a stronger hold on him than that of any woman Reid had ever met. She’d had it from first glance—and cemented it when she’d spontaneously given him that blow job. She was impulsive and passionate, intuitive and open.

He loved her.

Alana had been the kind of woman he’d been sure was right for him: one who wanted only to be dominated and possessed, one who was willing, beautiful, open to any suggestion he made. She’d been so perfect he’d thought once or twice that he couldn’t have invented a better wife for himself.

Kendra thought Alana had invented herself to appeal to him. Surely no one could be so self-effacing?

Or so manipulative?

Surely no one could have fooled him so completely.

Reid wished he could have been sure. He’d given the files to Kendra to try to change her mind, to prove he’d been right about his wife. He wanted Kendra, who thought so clearly, to go through the files and come to the same conclusion as him.

He’d suspected all along that she wouldn’t.

Reid’s trust in Alana had taken another blow with the arrival of the police, almost immediately after Kendra’s departure. He believed the coroner’s report that Alana was pregnant—why would the coroner lie?—just as he knew it couldn’t be his child.

That last argument rolled through his thoughts, one more time. He reviewed every word and every gesture, knowing now what Alana must have known, seeking some clue as to her thoughts. He’d known something was wrong, very wrong, but hadn’t known what—and she’d refused to tell him. He’d assumed she’d come around and had gone to finalize details of her party.

They’d never talked privately again.

He’d concluded after Alana disappeared that she preferred being without him. She’d had six months to try it out, after all.

But she hadn’t left him. She’d been murdered.

Had she meant to tell him about the baby that day? He hoped so.

Had Alana been so volatile because she’d feared his reaction to that news?

Reid wouldn’t have been pleased to be confronted with evidence of his wife’s infidelity, but he would have stood by her. He would have raised the child as his own. They had been married and that, in Reid’s opinion, meant they presented a united front to the world, regardless of what errors either of them made.

Maybe Alana hadn’t known she could trust him.

Reid winced. Had he failed to give her confidence of his feelings? Of his commitment to their marriage?

Or had he convinced her that only his way was good enough for him?

The only time she’d defied him had been over that last trip. He’d known he’d be in Asia for six months, but Alana refused to accompany him. It seemed out of character at the time, but now he saw it might have been the only deed that was
in
character. Had it really been because she didn’t want to be so far from home, as she’d insisted?

Or had she wanted to be close to her lover? That was a poisonous thought and one Reid immediately rejected. He couldn’t accept that his wife been routinely unfaithful, much less that she’d schemed to have time with a lover while he was gone.

She just didn’t like spending a lot of time alone in countries where she didn’t speak the language. They’d talked about that before. She’d been happy to go to New York or London, but otherwise hadn’t been an enthusiastic traveler.

The affair had to have been a fling, a choice maybe made because he was gone, instead of being with her. She must have been lonely. The failure of his marriage had to be his fault—after all, with total control came complete responsibility. Afterward, she must have felt guilty, uncertain of his reaction, fearful he would embarrass her for a single mistake.

Reid put down the weights, panting with exertion, and wished they’d talked reasonably instead of arguing that day.

You don’t own me.

The remembered words resonated with new power. Reid hefted the weights again, even though his muscles were aching. Why had he chosen to give her the collar for her birthday? It had been the gift that had launched the argument.

If he hadn’t done that, if he’d waited until later, maybe she would have confided in him.

The truth was Reid wanted to own his partner completely. He wanted total control over his woman. He had believed for years that was the only way he could be sure she would be safe and protected, and his forever. The collar was a powerful fantasy for him, as was the safe room. Control gave him the ultimate thrill.

But then there was Kendra, who wanted both submission and control. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he loved her as he’d never loved a woman before.

Maybe Reid’s assumptions needed to be reviewed.

Letting Kendra leave the house this morning had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He understood Kendra, though. She was more like him than like Alana—or the Alana he thought he’d known. Kendra needed to be independent and to make her own choices. Submission was a sexual fantasy, not a lifestyle choice. She needed partnership, not authority. She had needed him to trust her with the files and to show his trust by letting her leave with them. Just as she’d needed to come to him after the interval with Ethan and she’d needed sweet lovemaking, she now needed to test her strength again. She needed to step back out into the world on her own, and go home to try to solve the riddle. Kendra challenged everything Reid believed to be true, because he wanted to give her what she needed—no matter what it cost him. His gut was still in knots for letting her go, but it was his responsibility to see that the needs of both of them were met.

Even if he felt like it would kill him.

If the police detective had come before Kendra’s departure, Reid wouldn’t have been able to let her go. He thought of the pictures that had been sent to him, but not by Kendra as he’d originally believed.

And that was when he realized that what happened to Alana could happen to Kendra, too.

Reid put down the weights with a clang and sat up fast, his muscles quivering and his mind clear.

He had to go to Kendra. He had to be with her, wherever she was. He began to do his cool-down stretches, knowing that he’d rush through them and not caring how sore he was as a result. He had to get to Kendra.

“Mr. Stirling?”

Reid spun at the sound of Jackson’s voice. The older man stood on the threshold of the room, Forster hovering behind him. The driver looked as if he might be sick while Jackson’s expression was stern. The pair had always been at odds on some level, and Reid thought it inconvenient that things would come to a head between them at this moment.

“I don’t have a great deal of time this morning for domestic matters, Jackson,” he said, hoping to keep the exchange as short as possible. “I’m on my way out.”

“Forster has something to tell you about your wife, sir.” Jackson glared at the younger man, and only then did Reid see Louise standing several steps behind the pair. Her arms were folded across her chest and her expression even more disapproving than that of her husband. What could Forster possibly know about Alana? “I thought he should speak to you before he goes to the police.”

Against his every instinct to hurry, Reid knew he had to hear Forster out.

He didn’t care if the driver was aware of his impatience.

* * *

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to find, sir.”

Moynihan stifled his irritation with his new assistant. Everyone had to learn, he reminded himself. He hadn’t always known to trust his instincts. “I don’t know what we’ll find,” he replied calmly as the younger officer parked the cruiser. “That’s why we’re here.”

“This is the address, sir.”

They were parked in front of a modern apartment building, in a busy residential area near the downtown core. Across the street was an older apartment building, one with many architectural flourishes of a bygone era. In contrast, this building looked spare and utilitarian. The one across the street was where Kendra Jones, the assistant of Reid Stirling, lived.

“We don’t have a warrant, sir.”

“No, because we have no cause to request one. As you noted, I don’t know what we’ll find. I just think it’s odd.”

“Odd?”

Moynihan nodded. “It makes no sense that Stirling would have keys to a unit in this building, right across the street from the one where his assistant lives.”

“He has an awesome house, not far away,” the junior officer agreed.

“And he was staying in a hotel until this past weekend, while the staff set up the house.” Moynihan named the hotel and the junior officer checked his notes. “So, why have another place here?”

“To watch her?” the younger officer suggested. “She did go to his house last night. Maybe they’re having an affair.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Let’s see what we can find out for sure.” Moynihan pointed to the other building. “Go and find out where Miss Jones’ apartment is. Maybe it faces this way and maybe not.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’m going to see if Stirling has a chatty landlord.”

* * *

Kendra drummed her fingers with irritation. Someone had sent Reid pictures of her nude in her own bedroom. It made no sense. Jade was so terrible with cameras it was a running joke that she only took pictures of her thumb and her feet. Besides, Kendra trusted her roommate. Jade would never have betrayed her like that.

But who else could have taken such pictures?

She remembered now that she’d thought someone had been in their apartment, right around the time Reid took over Esperanza.

And wait—Jade had complained about Kendra giving keys to Reid, because she said she’d met him coming out of the apartment on her way home. Kendra had assumed Jade made a mistake. She didn’t imagine Reid had come to her apartment when she wasn’t home.

But what if someone else had?

She went into her bedroom, recalling her sense that someone had gone through her drawers. She opened them, each in turn, checking again. She didn’t find anything that shouldn’t have been there. She searched the room, trying to find a peephole or something that would explain how the photographs had been taken.

She didn’t find a thing.

She stood in the middle of the room and surveyed it with frustration. There had to be a solution. Someone had taken pictures of her here. Maybe that someone had returned to remove whatever camera or device they’d installed. It sounded as if they’d taken a lot of trouble, which made even less sense. Who would care to send pictures of her naked to Reid? He’d seen her naked in photographs before she’d even met him, long before he’d actually seen her naked himself. And both of those events happened before these pictures had been taken.