Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct (19 page)

Read Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Online

Authors: Brandi Broughton

“Yeah, a real ball of laughs.” She paused as the server approached with wine.

“The Château Latour Pauillac 1990, Mr. Stone.” He poured a bit for Rafe to savor, and when he nodded, the server filled their glasses.

Rafe watched her stare at the glass and was pleased when she finally lifted it to her lips. Her eyelids drifted closed in appreciation of the opulent flavor.

“I thought this vintage would suit you.”

“I’ve never had it before, but I like it.”

“I’m glad. I took the liberty of ordering in advance. But if you dislike anything, don’t hesitate to say so.”

She set the glass down. “Why are you doing this?”

Her boldness shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. “What do you mean?”

“This.” She swung her hand out in a small curve. “Dinner...with me?”

“As I recall, I won a wager.”

“You’re smooth, Stone, but not that smooth. Don’t dodge the question. Why did you choose dinner with me as your prize? Is it because of the investigation?”

Prickly and infuriating
. “Do you always question others’ motives?”

“I’m a cop. That’s what I do.”

She always hid behind the badge. “And I’m a billionaire. I make and spend money. But I don’t let it run my life. I have other goals, desires, and interests.”

“Challenges to conquer?”

He almost nodded, but the flame in her eyes warned him that answer might not be beneficial to his health. “We aren’t at war...you and I.”

“But we are on opposing sides. I’m not your type, and you’re so far beyond my type, you might as well be in another galaxy.” She picked up her glass. “How much?”

“Excuse me?”

“For the bottle. How much?”

“It’s hardly the most expensive wine available.”

“How...much?”

“Around eight hundred, why?”

Her eyes rounded. “No wonder you’re supposed to drink it slow and savor every drop. Do you know what I have in my fridge? A couple cans of cola at fifty cents a pop and a leftover pizza.”

He grinned. “I knew you liked Italian.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“I’ve heard every word.” He gripped her hand around the glass and slowly moved it toward her mouth. “And I also saw the joy on your face as you discovered something new.” He tilted the glass, letting just a taste trickle across her lips. “You wear the badge, Mackenzie, but it’s only one part of you. I see so much more. That’s the woman I want to know.” He released her hand and brushed a thumb lightly across her bottom lip before sitting back.

He did see more. Her gaze alone showed a riot of emotions, not the least of which was fear. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she chose to run, but then that wasn’t like her. She didn’t allow fear to rule her life. She acknowledged it and fought it every step of the way. He respected that. But he hadn’t meant to reveal so much of his own thoughts about her.

A passing couple paused at their table. “Mackenzie. I never dreamed I’d see you here.”

She didn’t wince, but Rafe could see the light dim from her eyes as her protective walls fell back into place.

“Kenneth...Barbara, good to see you again.” Her tone said just the opposite.

“You must be Rafael Stone.” Kenneth held a hand toward Rafe, who rose to accept the introductions. “I’m Kenneth Hahn. This is my wife, Barbara.”

The blonde beauty offered a perfected smile and a limp, well-manicured hand. “Hello.”

“A pleasure.” Rafe would normally have offered the unexpected guests the courtesy of joining them, but he decided against it after seeing the shallow smile frozen on Mackenzie’s face.

“Barbara, honey, why don’t you go freshen up and wait for me by the door?” After his wife nodded and walked away, he explained, “We just had dinner with the mayor. She’s a bit tired.”

“I’m sure she is,” Mackenzie agreed before taking a long sip of her wine.

“You’ve developed interesting investigative techniques, Mackenzie. I’m sure the mayor will be delighted to hear of your dedication to the case. You’re willingness to devote personal time with an...‘expert’ witness, and in such a fine restaurant, too.” Hahn turned to Rafe. “We finally meet, Mr. Stone. I’ve heard quite a bit about you lately.”

“Is that so?” Rafe returned to his seat beside Mackenzie. He could sense the tension build in her body.

“Yes. Didn’t Mackenzie tell you?” Hahn’s smile was more of a smirk than a grin. “I’m the lead prosecutor on the Robertson murder.”

“Ah, now I see why she’s determined to build a solid foundation of evidence in the case.”

Mackenzie’s lips pressed together.

“The families deserve to see the guilty party brought to justice and not go free because of a technicality, don’t you think?” he asked Hahn, whose smirk had turned into a sneer.

“The guilty party will spend the rest of his life behind bars...or face the executioner. I can assure you of that.”

“Then we are of an accord.” Rafe smiled.

“We are?” The man appeared baffled that what he’d obviously intended as a threat could so easily be converted to imply agreement with a suspected murderer.

“I share similar beliefs in the need for the death penalty...when used justly. I’m sure you and I can also agree on our country’s edict of ‘innocent until proven guilty’.”

“Of course.” Hahn nodded stiffly. “Detective, have a grand evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After the attorney left and their meal was served, Rafe watched and waited for Mackenzie’s defenses to recede, but they didn’t. Her mouth formed a perpetual frown as she pushed her food around her plate. Silence reigned, but soon Rafe had had enough.

“If you can capture your thoughts, tell me.”

“What?”

He set his fork down. “You’ve eaten maybe three bites, which will cause the chef untold amounts of dismay, I’m certain. Your mind is scrambling to parts unknown, and you’re pouting.”

“I do not pout.”

He placed a hand on his heart. “I stand corrected.” When she continued to pout, he said, “You’re concerned about being seen here...with me.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know, damn it.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “Hahn and I have...issues, and being seen here with you complicates things. I really should leave.”

“I never thought of you as a coward.”

Fury flashed in her eyes. He preferred that to the uncertain anxiety he’d seen before.

“I’m not, but you...You think this is some sort of game. Like chess or some medieval fencing match. People like Hahn and you thrive on power plays.” She pointed at him. “Only I don’t have the luxury of playing games. One wrong move and it’s a minor inconvenience to you, sure, but this is not some grand adventure. For me, it’s about two murdered men. It’s my life. My career and reputation are on the line. And this thing with Hahn...” She shook her head and stood. “If he can use this to have me removed from the case, he will. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen. Thanks for the drink, but I’m not for sale. Good night.”

Rafe caught up with her outside as she hailed a cab. When she moved to get in, he grabbed the door and her arm and followed her inside.

“Hey!”

“Drive,” he told the cabby.

“Where to, sir?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“Stop the cab,” Mackenzie ordered.

“Keep driving. You had your say. Now you’ll listen.” He captured her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Fuck you, Mackenzie. If you think I’m trying to buy you for the price of dinner and wine, you sell yourself too cheap and insult me.”

“Then, what the hell are you doing? Besides wrecking any chance I have of salvaging my investigation? Is that it? You want me off the case as much as Hahn. Do you think you’ll get off on some technicality if you can seduce the investigator?”

“I’m going to say this one last time, and then never again. I did not kill those two men. I did not order their deaths. So I’ve no reason to need a technicality to prove my innocence.”

“Fine—”

He gripped her shoulders. “I’m not finished. I’m tired of you putting this investigation between us and using your badge like some damn shield, but you’re wrong if you think I want you off the case.”

“Why?”

“I know what solving this case means to you. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. Whether or not you can trust in me, I do believe in you.”

“Then let me do my job. Don’t jeopardize it.” She looked at the driver. “Stop the cab.”

“Keep driving,” he ordered. The cabby shrugged, kept his foot on the gas and the meter running. “I never thought to see you run from anything, but you’re doing just that. You’re afraid to give us a chance.”

She tried to knock his hands away. “Don’t you get it? There is no ‘us’. There’s the case. I’m not putting it between us. It’s always been there. The case is the only thing that’s important.”

“No. It’s not the
only
thing. And if there is no ‘us’...” He pulled her toward him. “Prove it.” He pressed his lips to hers. She tensed and flattened her hands on his chest. He continued to play with her mouth until her fingers curled into a tight grip on his shirt. His tongue slipped passed her lips as her defenses crumbled, and she leaned into him.

His need turned feral, but he held it in check. Barely. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped an arm around her as he felt her fingers weave through his hair. His hand slid up one long leg while his mouth plundered her warm depths.

“I can’t deny this any more than you can,” he whispered before claiming her mouth again. “I feel it.” He blazed a trail down the slender column of her neck. “You feel it.” Her head fell back across his arm. He nibbled her ear. “I want you.”

He pulled away to catch his breath, cradling her in his arms, trying to calm the fires that raged through his body. Orange beams of light swiped through the car’s interior with each passing streetlamp. He needed her, but he didn’t want to take her in a damn cab...with an audience. The driver’s eyes shifted from the rearview mirror to the street ahead.

“Not here. Take us back to the restaurant.”

He watched her eyes lighten, her breathing calm, as the haze of passion dimmed. When Mackenzie sat up, without a word, a piece of paper fell out of her pocket. She snatched up the note and glanced at her watch.

“No. I have to get back to the station and pick up my car.” She gave the driver the address as she slipped from Rafe’s lap.

Before he could question her about the mysterious message, she gripped his hand, and he found himself staring at their interlaced fingers. Except for her brief show of sympathy over the death of his sister, this was the first time she’d willingly reached out to him. It was a start.

“I won’t deny there’s something between us. I can’t, but I need more time. I just...I need more time. I’m being pulled in too many directions.”

“There will always be cases.”

“Hopefully not ones with you as a suspect.” She gave him a bemused smile. “Until this case is solved and the real killer is behind bars, I have to stay focused. You may not be guilty, but you are a distraction.”

He chuckled. “You have a unique way with compliments, Detective.” He cradled her jaw and ran a thumb over her lips, as soft as the petal of the rose he’d compared her to earlier.

When they pulled up to the station, she placed fingertips over his mouth as he leaned toward her. “Time?”

He nodded, gripped her wrist, and pressed a kiss into her palm instead. “Where are you going tonight?”

Moving to get out, she glanced back. “Home, why?”

“You seemed worried about that note.”

She stuck her hand in her pocket, which muffled the crackle of the paper. “It’s just some police business. I’ll handle it. Good night.”

“Until later.”

He waited only as long as it took the cab to pull onto the street.

“A hundred dollars bonus for you,” he told the cabby, “if you can get me back to the restaurant in less than ten minutes.”

As the driver floored it, Rafe pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. “Luc...”

 

 

Mackenzie watched the taxi until it disappeared from view. She glanced at her watch again. She had just enough time to change, contact Cooper, and get to the docks. She wanted to get there before the time on the note to check out the warehouse.

Snitches often picked remote locations at odd hours for their contacts, especially those who wished to remain anonymous. Being pegged for a snitch in their own neighborhoods could prove painful or even deadly for some, but she didn’t like going into a meeting blind.

After changing into a spare pair of jeans she kept in her locker, she strapped on her holster, checked the ammo in her firearm, and covered it all up with her bomber jacket.

Heading for her car, she tried Cooper’s cell number and left a message when she got his voice mail. Where the hell was he? She thought about having dispatch reach him but decided against it. If he was out by O’Hare, he’d never make it to the rendezvous location on time anyway.

This information better be worth the trouble
.

As she drove to the meeting, she pondered Hahn’s veiled threat. His constant attempts to undermine her career pissed her off. Of all people, he should know how important the job was to her; she’d chosen it over him.

He’d claimed to have called off their relationship and then married the first bimbo he came across to save face. That was all fine with her. If he wanted to salve his inflated ego with lies, she could handle it.

Rafe had been right about her running. She’d let the idea that she’d finally given Hahn the ammo he needed send her into a panic. If he’d misread the situation between her and Rafe, she could fight it. But how did one fight the truth?

She was attracted to Rafe. She never would’ve let another suspect do the things he’d done to her. She’d compromised everything she believed in each time she let him touch her, kiss her, and plow past her defenses.

“What defenses?” she quipped to herself. Her weakness frightened her into lashing out emotionally when she needed to be calm, focused, and cool as ice. There was a killer on the streets of Chicago, and he wasn’t going to wait around for her to get her personal life in order.

The warehouse came into view, and Mackenzie pushed aside any stray thoughts as she studied the building and its surroundings. She drove completely around it before parking out front.

Other books

Nocturne by Tanpepper, Saul
Beware of the Trains by Edmund Crispin
Serious Men by Manu Joseph
Advice for Italian Boys by Anne Giardini
Lost Republic by Paul B. Thompson
Let Me Fly Free by Mary Fan
Thief of Hearts by MaryJanice Davidson