Silver Bells

Books by Mary Burton

Dead Ringer • I’m Watching You

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

FERN MICHAELS

Silver Bells

JoAnn Ross

Mary Burton

Judy Duarte

KENSINGTON BOOKS

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

Contents

Christmas Past
Mary Burton

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Christmas Past

Mary Burton

Chapter One

Richmond, Virginia
Tuesday, December 23, 9:00 A.M.

Nat King Cole crooned on a bargain CD player as Nicole Piper set down her half-eaten peanut butter sandwich and picked up a Baby’s First Christmas snow angel. She moved to a small silver vintage Christmas tree perched on her dinette table. The tree’s aluminum bristles caught the light streaming in the window.

She’d found the Christmas tree at a fall yard sale. The tree’s twenty-dollar price tag had seemed high at the time, but the vendor had assured Nicole the tree was a steal. Still, she’d worried over the extravagance and had negotiated the price down to eighteen dollars. Two dollars was loose change to most, but not for her. Her budding photography business barely brought in enough to support Nicole and her infant daughter.

The tree might have been unnecessary, but she was glad now she’d bought it. Its sparkling branches were not only festive but its bold, quirky style suited her new life.

Nicole hung the angel front and center on the tree, taking a moment to adjust it so it was straight. It was the only ornament on the tree. “So what do you think, Beth?”

Her eleven-month-old daughter lay on a blanket in the small living room just feet from the dining area. Beth’s feet and hands curled around a half full bottle of baby formula. She tossed Nicole a sloppy grin and went back to her bottle.

The child was oblivious to everything but her chubby fingers, which methodically closed and opened around her bottle. Nicole smiled. This was how it should be. It was Nicole’s job to worry, not Beth’s.

Nicole finished off her sandwich and carried her plate to the kitchenette. The apartment was furnished with a blue hand-me-down sofa with a pullout bed, which Nicole used nightly, a few end tables, a TV that only picked up local stations, and a round café table with one chair and a high chair. Near the sofa was Beth’s white crib. Unlike the rest of the room, the crib was not used or hand-me down. It was a stunning piece of furniture that looked as if it had been plucked from a magazine. A gift from Nicole’s friends, the crib indulged the only child she’d ever be able to have because of birth complications.

The third floor walk-up apartment would have looked a bit sad if not for the large photographs on the walls. Nicole had taken the black and white portraits in the last year. The non-traditional images had odd, quirky perspectives that completely captured the likeness and character of her subjects. Nicole made her living taking commercial portraits, but these images were shot during the precious free moments she had. They were also going to be part of a modest January show at the 1864 Gallery.

Nicole picked up a lukewarm cup of tea and sipped it as she stared at the pictures. They represented a huge milestone because they symbolized her return to the art world after almost a three-year absence.

When she’d been married to her late husband she thought she’d never be an artist again. All her energy had gone to surviving her husband’s abuse. Now, the past was behind her and she was creating again. She’d forgotten how exciting and joyous it felt to see her photographs materialize in the developing tray.

To think she’d almost lost her art. To think she’d almost lost her life.

As if sensing her unease, Beth pulled her bottle from her mouth, craned her neck in search of Nicole. Seeing her mother, the baby gurgled.

Nicole grinned back and winked at her child. Satisfied, Beth returned to her bottle.

Beth’s father, Richard Braxton, had been a charming, clever, and violent man. He’d lured Nicole into his life almost five years ago. They’d met in San Francisco when he’d darted out of the rain and into her studio. He’d quickly won her heart and before she thought, she’d married him. Within a year, he’d turned her life into a living hell.

Finally, after three years of marriage, she’d summoned her courage and fled across the country to Virginia. Not realizing she was pregnant, she’d changed her name and gone into hiding, knowing that Richard would kill her for leaving.

Those weeks had been tense and terrifying but Nicole had been determined to rebuild her life, even after she’d discovered she was pregnant.

Braxton, furious when he’d discovered she’d left, had tracked her down to Richmond, ready to kill Nicole and Lindsay O’Neil, the woman who’d sheltered her.

Nicole and Lindsay had been saved, but just the memory of that hot July day had Nicole crossing the room and double-checking the three deadbolt locks on her door. She’d been checking locks a lot lately. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she’d felt that Richard had somehow risen from the dead and was watching her.

That was ridiculous, of course. “The man is dead,” she whispered. “Richard can’t hurt you anymore. The nightmare is over.” Logic did little to quell the sudden knot in her belly that always formed when she thought about Richard.

Turning from the door, she stared down at her daughter, who looked so much like her father. Her dark hair, brown eyes, and long lean hands ensured that there’d be no denying who’d sired the child. And yet despite the physical similarities, Beth was pure light. No darkness. She was the best part of Nicole.

The front doorbell rang, startling Nicole from her thoughts. The baby dropped her bottle and rolled on her stomach to watch her mother move toward the door.

Nicole smiled at Beth and kept her tone light when she said, “Who could it be?”

The baby gurgled.

Nicole peered through the peephole. She smiled when she saw Lindsay O’Neil’s blond hair tied in a trademark ponytail, which accentuated her sharp profile. Lindsay wore a baby front pack, which held her three-month-old son, Jack. She wore a lightweight jacket, red sweater, and jeans. In her hand, she held a brown shopping bag.

Sighing out her tension, Nicole unfastened the lock and opened the door. “Merry Christmas.” Nicole tossed in a big smile, determined to forget her worries about Richard.

Lindsay grinned, leaned forward, and kissed Nicole on the cheek. Jack grunted between them, unhappy about being gently squished, and the women laughed. Lindsay, patting her son on the bottom, came into the apartment.

Nicole closed the door behind her and clicked just one deadbolt into place.

“So what brings you downtown?” Nicole asked. “I thought you’d be helping your mother-in-law with the big party.” Lindsay’s in-laws owned a restaurant called Zola’s and each Christmas they closed their doors to the public and had a huge party for friends and family. Nicole and Beth planned to attend.

“I stopped by Audrey’s early this morning. She’s cooking like there’s no tomorrow. I tried to help but she shooed me out of the kitchen. However, she asked me to drop these few things off with you.” Lindsay set her bag down on the kitchen table by the tree and pulled five to-go tins from the bag. “Nice tree.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s vintage?”

“So I hear. I just liked the way it sparkled.”

Lindsay carried the food into the kitchen and stacked the tins on the counter. “Audrey thinks you’re too thin. There’s enough ziti and bread here to sink a battle ship.”

Nicole laughed. Lindsay’s in-laws, the Kiers, had taken her under their wing when she’d moved into this apartment. They’d given her furniture, rugs, and lamps. “That’s sweet of her.”

“This is your first Christmas with the baby. They worry about you.” Concern darkened her gaze a fraction. “I worry about you.”

Lindsay ran the women’s center and was passionate about stopping domestic abuse.

“We’re doing great.” And that was the truth. “We’re settling in nicely.”

Lindsay held her gaze an extra beat. “You’re sure? You have dark circles under your eyes.”

“That’s actually a good thing. I was up cropping pictures and framing them for the exhibit.” She held up her hands. “Have a look around at my latest.”

Lindsay’s gaze trailed to the images as she moved around the room studying each carefully. She stopped at a black and white portrait of Kendall Shaw, a local news anchorwoman. Kendall and Nicole—the diva and the artist as their friends liked to say—were an unlikely pair but had struck up a close friendship when Nicole was pregnant. “When did you take this?”

“A week ago.”

Moody shadows accentuated Kendall’s stunning cheekbones and powerful eyes and the use of sepia tones made Kendall’s skin look like silk. “Very powerful. Does she like it?”

“I haven’t shown her yet.” Nicole nibbled on her bottom lip. Like many artists she constantly questioned herself. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Most definitely. And I know her husband would love a print.”

“Good. Because that’s what I’m giving them for Christmas.” She also had a picture of Lindsay and Jack ready to give on Christmas Day.

Lindsay faced Nicole. “So you’re ready for the show?”

“Yes. And it’s exciting and terrifying.”

“You’ll knock ’em dead.”

“I’m no longer the sad, desperate woman I was when I showed up on your doorstep two years ago running from Richard. Really.”

Lindsay unbuttoned her jacket and Jack gurgled in his front pack. Beth’s fat hands and sock feet slapped the carpeted floor as she crawled toward Nicole and, gripping the fabric of her mother’s jeans, pulled herself up.

Nicole picked up Beth, unsure of why she’d just referenced Richard. She’d not spoken his name in more than a year. “So I hear that the Kiers’ party is a huge deal.” She’d been invited last year but late-term morning sickness and fatigue had kept her away.

“Oh, it is. It’s an extravaganza. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the food.”

“Can’t wait.” Beth grabbed Nicole’s nose. Nicole captured the little girl’s hand in her own and kissed it.

“David Ayden is also going to be there.” Lindsay watched Nicole closely for a reaction.

Nicole’s stomach fluttered. Homicide Sergeant David Ayden was a widower with two teenage sons. He’d been a good friend to her after Beth was born. They’d had dinner several times with his boys and Beth. He and the boys had helped move furniture into her apartment. They’d laughed a lot and despite the dozen years between their ages, seemed to be on the same page about so many things.

At Beth’s christening, he’d pulled her aside and out of the blue had kissed her on the lips. The kiss had been sensual and so full of promise. An unexpected heat skyrocketed through her body. She’d kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

After the kiss, he’d said he’d wanted more than friendship. She’d been stunned, excited, and scared all in the same instant. Ayden’s lean body, rawboned features, and thick blond hair excited her and she liked him so much. It would have been so easy to love him.

Love. Just the idea of love terrified her. She’d loved Richard and had nearly lost herself. And the thought of loving and losing herself to anyone else had her pulling away.

“I can’t,” she’d whispered.

The desire and longing in his expression melted first to confusion and then to embarrassed hurt. Sloppily, she’d tried to explain, but she sounded like a confused child. He nodded, stoically accepting her wishes. She’d left the christening feeling awful. A few times she considered calling him, but never did. What could she say?

Nicole felt her cheeks warm when she remembered some of the sexual fantasies she’d had involving him. “He’s doing well, I hope.”

Lindsay arched an eyebrow. “The holidays are never great for him. His boys are going to stay with his late wife’s parents this Christmas so he’s covering the office. But he will be at the party.”

Nicole remembered how his scent had clung to her hours after the kiss. “I’m glad. I’d hate for him to be alone.”

Lindsay’s gaze didn’t waver from Nicole’s face. “I saw the kiss he planted on you at Beth’s christening.”

Color rose in Nicole’s face. “I didn’t think anyone saw.”

“I was the only one. What happened?”

“I just wasn’t ready.”

Lindsay studied her a beat. “That’s fair enough. You had a lot of healing to do this year.” A grin lifted the edge of Lindsay’s mouth. “Still, just the mention of his name makes you blush.”

Her face grew warmer. “I won’t lie. The idea of seeing him again excites and scares me.”

Lindsay lifted a brow. “I get the excites part, but why are you afraid? Ayden is not Richard.”

“I know. I know.”

“But…”

“But caring or loving someone is just too dangerous. The cost is too high if things go wrong.”

“You deserve to have a good man in your life, Nicole. Don’t let Richard steal your future.”

The thought that Richard could still be controlling her made her mad. “He’s not. This is my choice.”

“Okay.” Lindsay always had a sense of when to back off.

Nicole inhaled deeply to calm her rapid heartbeat. “So what else is in the bag?” She peered into the shopping sack and saw an envelope addressed to her. “What’s that?”

“Believe it or not, it’s a letter that was addressed to you. It was mailed to my old town house. I guess the sender knew you were living with me at the time. Anyway, it was delivered to the town house next door and the bonehead that lived there never took the time to drop it by my place. He just moved out and the rental company found it. They called me and I picked it up.”

Curious, Nicole picked up the padded envelope. Her name and address were typed neatly on the mailing address label of an Alexandria, Virginia, law firm, Wellington and James. The postmark was August 15, a year and a half ago. Richard had been dead nearly a month when the letter had been mailed.

“I was curious about Wellington and James so I looked the firm up on the Web. They have a site.”

Nicole laughed. “Ever the detective’s wife.”

“I’m a natural snoop.” There was no hint of apology in her voice.

“So what did you find out, Nancy Drew?”

“Not much. It’s a small firm owned by two women. Charlotte Wellington and Sienna James. Everything written about them was positive. They did mostly corporate work but have branched into criminal law.”

Beth gurgled and grabbed the edge of the envelope. She’d have put it in her mouth if Nicole hadn’t set her back down on her blanket and handed Beth her bottle. Nicole pulled the tab on the edge of the envelope and tore it open. Flecks of padding cascaded to the floor as she dug her hand inside. Her fingers brushed the hard edges of a DVD case. “What’s this? There’s no letter.”

“Pop it in the DVD player and let’s see.” Lindsay’s tone had grown serious.

“It bothers me that there’s no letter.” Hard lessons had taught Nicole that surprises never boded well. She put the disc in the machine and hit PLAY. Immediately, Richard’s face flashed on the screen. Dark slicked-back hair and olive skin accentuated sharp piercing eyes and even white teeth.

Nicole’s stomach immediately clenched and tears filled her eyes. Seeing him nearly made her sick. She had forgotten how intense and frightening his gaze could be. With a trembling hand, she shut the TV off. “Oh, my God.”

Lindsay pushed EXIT and pulled out the DVD. “God, I am so sorry. I had no idea. You don’t need to see this. Just smash it into a million pieces.”

Sweat beaded on the back of Nicole’s neck. “How could he have sent this? He died a month before it was mailed.”

Lindsay pursed her lips. “No doubt he set something up with the attorneys before he came to Richmond.”

“Richard was always good at looking at all the different angles.” Nicole’s hands trembled and a chill cut through her body. “I don’t understand.”

“I do. He figured if he failed to get you back, he’d have this tape sent to you. It’s just another way to terrorize you.” Lindsay shut the TV off.

Nicole pulled in a ragged breath. Richard’s plan was working. She’d gone from excited and happy to terrified in seconds. Beth gurgled on her blanket. Nicole glanced down at her daughter and reminded herself she had nothing to be afraid of. Richard was dead. She was free. “Turn the TV back on.”

“Nicole, let it go. You don’t have to watch this. Don’t give him the chance to upset you.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “No, Lindsay. I need to see his face, look him in the eye, and tell myself I am not afraid.”

Lindsay looked unconvinced. “You don’t need to prove anything.”

“I need to know I can do this.”

“It’s not necessary. I know you’re not afraid.”

Nicole pulled the remote from Lindsay’s long fingers. Her throat tight, she reloaded the DVD and pointed it at the TV. She hit PLAY.

Richard’s face reappeared. Her stomach clenched, but her gaze didn’t waver. He would not rule her life. She would have the last word.

Richard’s flashing white teeth reminded her of a hungry wolf. “If you’re watching this, Christina…”

Christina. That had been her given name—the name Richard knew her by. But when she’d fled Richard and moved east she’d changed her name. At first the name Nicole Piper had been a temporary name. But after Richard’s death, she’d discovered she had no desire to take back her old name. It had too much sadness attached to it. So she’d changed it legally.

“If you’re watching this, Christina, then it means things didn’t end between us as I planned.” His smooth, cultured voice was maddeningly calm. Clearly he still believed that he was going to win their cat and mouse game. “But I couldn’t leave you without a parting gift as a token of my love. Because, Christina, I do love you so very much.” He smiled and absently adjusted the gold signet ring on his right pinky. “You remember Vincent, don’t you?”

Nicole hit PAUSE. “Vincent was his assistant. He was a very nasty man who often did Richard’s dirty work.”

Lindsay frowned as she dug her cell out of her pocket. “I should call Zack.” Zack Kier was Lindsay’s husband. He was a homicide detective with Henrico County Police. “This is a police matter.”

Nicole nodded. “As soon as I’ve seen it.” She hit PLAY.

Richard continued. “Vincent killed that friend of yours, Claire Carmichael, that woman that helped you escape San Francisco.”

Nicole could barely breathe. Claire had lent Nicole money and even found a beat-up car for her to drive. Later, Nicole learned that Claire had been horribly tortured. Her shop had been burned and all the evidence that could be used against her attacker destroyed. Her killer had never been caught, though police had believed it was Richard. But if Vincent had killed her that meant he’d gotten away with murder.

Lindsay pulled in a shocked breath. “My God. Claire’s family was devastated by her death. They never had closure and still pray the murder will be solved.”

Losing a daughter would be a fate worse than death.

Richard had paused for effect on the tape. Smiling wider, he continued. “If you want the evidence that proves Vincent killed Claire, go see my attorney. Her name is Charlotte Wellington of Alexandria, Virginia. Ms. Wellington is authorized to give the information only to you. Go to her and get the evidence if you want to prove Vincent killed Claire.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “Why would he do this?”

And then as if to answer the question Richard never heard he said, “My hope is to prove to you that I didn’t hurt Claire. I love you. I just want you back in my life, Christina.”

Lindsay shook her head. “The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

Nicole felt sick as she shut off the TV.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Lindsay asked.

Nicole’s head was spinning. “I don’t know.”

“He was a pro at playing games.”

Nicole sighed. “I know. But I owe it to Claire to find out.” Anger overrode her fear.

Lindsay set her jaw. “You can’t do this alone. I’ll come with you.”

Nicole shook her head. “No. But I’d appreciate it if you could watch Beth.”

“Of course, I’ll watch her. But you can’t go alone. Let me come.”

“No, Lindsay.” Her friend’s concern touched her deeply. “Richard is my mess and I plan to clean it up once and for all.”

“Dad, I feel kinda like a creep for leaving you here alone at Christmas.” David Ayden smiled at his oldest son, Zane. The boy had his mother’s eyes. Caleb was behind him, kneeling and zipping up a ski bag.

They were at the train station standing on the platform. The boys were taking the train to a ski resort in the West Virginia mountains. He was going to miss them like hell but knew they needed to get away and have a good time. And his in-laws had been lobbying for months for this trip. “I want you two to go and have a good time. Your grandparents can’t wait to have you.”

Caleb rose. “Why don’t you ditch work and come?”

“It’s my turn to work the holiday. I’ve had the last couple of Christmases off.” The department had given him the time after his wife’s death. He and Julie had been married for sixteen years. She’d died of cancer. “But my number has come up. And your grandparents are so excited about the ski trip and I want you to have a good time.” He could make it through a few days alone.

“Hey, why don’t you call Nicole,” Caleb asked. “I bet she doesn’t have plans.”

Zane glared at his brother. “They broke up, doofus.”

A subtle tension settled in Ayden’s lower back. “We were never together. We were just friends.”

Zane stared at his father an extra beat. The kid had spotted the attraction his father had had for Nicole. Wisely Zane now decided not to share his thoughts.

The train engine released a whoosh of steam.

Ayden was grateful for the distraction. “You boys better get on the train. I don’t want you missing it.”

“So are you working the whole time?” Zane asked.

“Most of it. I’ve got the Kier party on Christmas afternoon.”

“Ah, man,” Caleb said. “We’re gonna miss that. I love that party.”

“I’ll eat your share of pasta,” Ayden joked. He refused to let his boys see that he was going to miss them. He hugged Zane close and then Caleb. “Don’t eat too much crap in the dining car. Your grandmother is going to feed you lunch.”

Zane grimaced at his brother. “Tell that to the human garbage can.”

Caleb shot his brother a murderous glare. “Who’s got the mega bag of M&M’s in his backpack?”

They would go round and round like this for hours if Ayden let it continue. Just put them on the train. That’s what Julie would have said. Let the kids eat some junk. It’s Christmas. “Go.”

The boys hugged their dad one more time and then climbed the three steps to the train. Ayden waited on the cold platform until he saw the two settled into their seats. The boys waved, trying to shoo him away, but he remained until the train engine roared to life and the cars started down the tracks. When the caboose finally faded from sight, he turned and headed to his car.

He crossed the parking lot and slid behind the wheel of his Crown Vic. He started the engine and waited until the heater had defrosted the already chilled windshield.

The boys were going to have a great Christmas. This was a good thing for them all. He didn’t mind the work, and how many times had he wished for a little quiet in his own house? Only now he suspected the quiet wouldn’t be a peaceful one.

Why don’t you call Nicole?

The words rattled in his head as he put the car in DRIVE. He’d not seen her since April. Since the day he’d kissed her. He’d thought they had something. Hell, he was even thinking marriage. But she’d pulled away from him. She’d had tears in her eyes when she’d told him she wasn’t ready. She wanted to be friends.

Friends. He wanted to be her friend. And her lover and her husband. He’d wanted to help her raise her daughter. He’d wanted the whole damn package. But he’d not been able to say all that. Instead he’d nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets, and kept his tone cordial. She’d said she’d needed space. And he’d been willing to give it to her. Only he couldn’t just be friends. It was all or nothing.

Through mutual friends, he’d kept up with Nicole over the last six months. He’d not asked about her but listened when friends talked. Nicole’s two closest friends, Lindsay and Kendall, were married to homicide detectives in his department, so he caught bits and snatches of information from time to time. Business was doing well. An upcoming art show in January. Beth was crawling.

Ayden had managed a few dates over the summer and fall. They’d been nice diversions but nothing had made him want a second or third date. None of the women had compared to Nicole.

“Shit.” All or nothing had gotten him a fat load of nothing.

His phone rang. “David Ayden.”

“Ayden, it’s Lindsay.” Her voice sounded like a whisper.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah. I just don’t want Nicole to hear me. She’s in the bathroom.”

He gripped the phone. “What is it?”

“It’s not good.”

Ayden’s mood darkened as he listened to the details. “Send her to my office. And tell her if she doesn’t come I’m sending a squad car for her.”

Chapter Two

Tuesday, December 23, 10:15 A.M.

Nicole gripped the DVD in her hand as she climbed the staircase to the second-floor offices of the county’s homicide department. Today, there weren’t many people on the floor, which usually buzzed with ringing phones and chatter. The silence gave the place an eerie quality that underscored the tension radiating from every muscle in her body.

As she moved down the carpeted hallway her mind slipped back to the day she’d met Claire Carmichael.

The breeze of the San Francisco Bay had left her skin chilled as she’d pushed through the front door of the new age shop. Bells above her head jingled and the delicate scent of lavender hung in the air. Her hands trembled.

Her body ached inside and out and bruises darkened her arms. Last night with Richard had been the worst ever. Unprovoked, he’d hit her. She’d tried to calm him, but he’d been inconsolable. He’d pinned her on the floor of his office and savagely raped her. He’d told her over and over that she was his until he decided he was finished with her. She knew then if she didn’t leave he would kill her.

As the shop’s scents enveloped her, her heart was hammering in her chest as she clutched her designer bag close to her. She glanced out the picture window half expecting to see Richard striding toward her. She wouldn’t have long before he realized she was gone. And if he found her…God, she didn’t want to think how he’d punish her for this rebellion.

“Hello?”

“Be right out.” The woman’s voice was strong and cheerful and Christina remembered when her own voice sounded like that.

Christina drew in a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. She repeated the mantra several times before beaded curtains behind a display case full of crystals and unicorns fluttered open.

A smiling woman with kind eyes moved toward her. She wore a loose-fitting dress and had tied her hair up in a bun. She wasn’t much older than Christina but possessed a grace and wisdom that stretched far beyond her years.

“Can I help you?”

Christina moistened her lips. “I saw you speak at the community center a few months ago.”

The woman’s eyes sharpened. “On domestic violence.”

“Yes.”

“I remember you. You stood in the back of the room.”

“Yes.” It was all she could do to speak without breaking down into tears.

“You’re in trouble.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Yes.”

The woman moved past her, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED and locked the front door. “My name is Claire.”

“I remember. Claire Carmichael.”

She smiled. “Good memory. Come in the back and we can talk.”

“I’ve got to get out of town. I don’t have much time.”

“Does your husband know you’ve left?”

“It’s just a matter of time.”

“Then we’ve got a few minutes.”

“I have to warn you, my husband is Richard Braxton. He’s a violent, evil man. If he finds out you helped me, he’ll be angry.”

Claire didn’t hesitate. Bracelets jangled on her wrist as she wrapped her arm around Christina’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry about me, honey. I can take care of myself. Now let’s figure out how we’re going to get you out of San Francisco.”

Nicole paused and closed her eyes. I can take care of myself. Claire’s words haunted her. Nicole brought evil into Claire’s life and she’d died horribly because of it.

She moved toward Ayden’s office, knowing she’d do whatever she could to avenge the woman who had been so kind to her.

Nicole stopped at the office in the corner. On the wall rested a placard that read SERGEANT DAVID AYDEN. The door was ajar. She couldn’t see Ayden but she could hear his deep, rich voice. It sounded like he was on the phone. Nicole drew in a breath and knocked.

“Yeah, come in.” He sounded gruff, annoyed.

Feeling like an interloper, she pushed open the door. Ayden stood with his back to her, the phone pressed to his ear. He wore a white button-down shirt and khakis. Clipped on the left side of his dark belt was a cell phone and on the other side his gun. A lean waist accentuated broad shoulders and military straight posture.

When the door hinges creaked he turned. His expression was dark until he saw Nicole. For a brief instant there was a softening in his blue eyes and then it was gone. “Let me call you back.” He hung up the phone. “Nicole.”

“Hi.” Her voice sounded hoarse and full of emotion.

“Lindsay called me and told me about the DVD.” He moved around the desk. There was an edge about him as he moved and he radiated an energy that suggested that he knew how to fight if need be. He was a good father who had been a good husband. But under the calm facade lurked a warrior.

Suddenly she felt awkward. She held out the DVD. “This is what I received.”

Frowning, he nodded. He took the DVD from her, careful not to touch her. Behind his desk was a small television equipped with a DVD player. He popped it in. “Can you handle this?”

She hated the idea of seeing Richard’s face again. “Yes.”

Ayden nodded and hit PLAY. His expression grew savage as Richard spoke. After the recording ended he shut it off. “I’ve heard enough about Braxton but have never seen a video of him.”

Nicole swallowed. “He had quite a presence in person. He could silence a room when he entered.” She remembered all the parties they attended and the strained expressions of the people he did business with as he spoke to them.

Ayden’s jaw tightened and released. “I’ve already placed calls to the lawyer’s office in Alexandria. Charlotte Wellington is not being cooperative. She’s pledged to protect her client and has told me she won’t release information to anyone but you. If I want the information, I’ll have to get a search warrant.”

She frowned. “It’s almost Christmas.”

“And there’s not a judge to be found to sign a search warrant under these circumstances. None will be back until Friday at the earliest.”

Nicole felt boxed into a corner. “I can’t let Claire’s parents go another Christmas without closure.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her black leather jacket. “This is so like Richard.”

Ayden’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything.

She didn’t want to drive up I-95. The roads would be jammed with holiday travelers and the weather forecasters called for snow. And then there was Beth. She couldn’t drag the child along with her. Lindsay would watch her, but her friend already had a hectic schedule. Despite all the reasons not to go Nicole heard herself saying, “I’ll drive up there now. If I hurry I can be back by this afternoon. Lindsay said she’d watch the baby.”

Ayden’s frown deepened. “You don’t have to do this. We’ll have a court order by the weekend.”

“Claire went out on a limb for me and it cost her her life. This is the least I can do for her.”

“The traffic and weather are going to be a nightmare.”

She managed a shrug just to show him she could handle it all. “It won’t be that bad.” She checked her watch. “I’ll call you when I get back to town.”

No way in hell was Nicole going to the Washington, D.C., metro area by herself today. He wasn’t going to let scum like Braxton jerk her chain like this. “I’m coming with you.”

She shook her head. “No. I can do this alone.”

Nicole had to be one of the strongest women he knew. And one of the most beautiful. Even now, standing this close to her made his heart tighten.

“I’m going.” His statement had force behind it. “Let me make a couple of calls.”

“Ayden, you don’t have to do this.”

He reached for his phone and dialed a number. “Yes, I do. Besides, I wouldn’t trust that car of yours to get around the block let alone up and back to D.C. today.”

She straightened. “It’s a good car.” Claire had given it to her.

He grinned. “We’ll take my car.”

She started to pace back and forth. He could see that this whole mess with her late husband was tying her into knots. If he had his way, he’d dig the guy up from his grave and knock the crap out of him.

Detective C. C. Ricker picked up her line. “Ricker.”

Ayden filled Ricker in on the details. “You can cover the fort today?”

“No sweat. Do what you need to.”

“Thanks.”

He hung up and moved across the room to get his coat off the back of his door. As he passed he caught Nicole’s scent. Soft. Delicate. Like her. She wore faded jeans and a loose sweater but neither hid the curves of her figure. Her hips had rounded a little since her pregnancy but it suited her. He much preferred this look to the images he’d seen of her when she’d lived with her husband. The one picture that stuck in his mind had been taken at a charity ball. Her too-thin frame was clad in a red designer gown and her long, ebony hair and makeup had been professionally done. As stunning as she was, she’d reminded him of a plastic doll not a woman.

Now thick hair hung in a loose shag around her face and she wore only a hint of makeup. The combined effect made it hard for him not to stare. He’d hoped maybe these last few months would have tempered his response to her but they hadn’t. If anything, it had magnified.

He shrugged on a gray overcoat. “Let’s get going.”

“Ayden, please stay. You don’t have to do this.”

“My boys are out of town and there is nothing happening here. And, like you said, we’ll be back by dinner.”

A crease knotted her forehead. “I don’t like taking help.”

“There is pride and then there is foolishness. Besides, we both know Braxton was a sneaky bastard. Who the hell knows what is waiting for you up there?”

She nibbled her lip. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Braxton was never honest or predictable and there is no reason why he should start being upfront now.”

She considered his words. “You’re right. I’m rushing in like a fool.”

“You’re no fool. You’re trusting and kind. He knew that when he made the tape and he is taking advantage of it.”

He pressed his hand into the small of her back and guided her out of the office. They moved past the cubicles, down the steps, and out to the parking lot where his dark Crown Vic was parked. A blast of cold air cut across the asphalt making her wince. Her leather coat wasn’t heavy duty and he almost chided her for the choice. He stopped himself. She didn’t need another man telling her how to live her life.

Ayden opened the door and she slid into the cold interior. He moved around the front of the car, got behind the wheel, and fired up the engine. He turned on the heater but cold air blasted them. “It’ll take a moment to heat up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your lips are blue.”

She arched an eyebrow. “It’s the newest shade this season.”

He grinned, put the car in gear and headed toward the main road. “Pink looks better on you.”

A silence settled over the car as he maneuvered through the traffic on Parham Road and got onto the interstate. Soon, they were northbound on I-95. “With luck it’ll be less than two hours.”

The heater finally was pushing out warm air and she held her hands to the vent. Her nails were short and her hands chafed.

“You’ve been working in the darkroom again.” He kept his gaze on the road ahead but out of the corner of his eye he saw her turn to him.

“How’d you know that?”

“Your hands. Looks like you’ve been using developing chemicals. And I remember you saying the commercial stuff is mostly digital now.”

She curled her fingers as if to hide their rough edges. “I heard you were a good detective.”

He wanted to keep the conversation light and away from Braxton. “So I’m right.”

“You are. I’ve got a show opening in January. Nothing huge, but it’s a start.”

“Congratulations. That’s no small feat. You must be busy.”

A half smile tugged at the edge of her lips. “Most days I barely have time to brush my hair. Between the baby and the business and the art there’s barely time to breathe, but somehow it’s all coming together.”

No mention of a man. Good. “You’re still doing mostly portraits?”

“You remembered?” She sounded shocked.

He remembered everything about her. “You said something once about not doing landscapes anymore. That people were more your style now.”

She relaxed when she talked about her work. “That’s right. Something in me changed, so it stands to reason the art would change as well.”

He fumbled to find more things to talk to her about. “How’s Beth doing?” He’d thought he was over the baby phase in his life and didn’t want more children, but he’d fallen for that little girl as hard as he had for Nicole.

Nicole’s eyes glistened with pride. “She’s great. She’s crawling now.”

“Tearing the place up?”

“Every chance she gets.” She shifted toward him. “How are the boys?”

“Great. Zane was accepted to Virginia Tech.”

“Wonderful. And Caleb, he should be looking at college soon.”

“He wants to go to Tech, but his grades are borderline. We’ll see.”

If his two teenage sons were in the backseat they’d be busting a gut laughing watching their old man struggle to make conversation. He never lacked for words when it came to them or to work. But with Nicole the sentences did not flow. He wanted to talk about the kiss they’d shared in April and if she was ready for more now. But he didn’t want to push her. So he lapsed into silence and kept his mind on the thickening traffic. At the horizon a thick band of gray clouds promised snow. As awkward as all this was, he’d never have let her go alone.

As minutes passed, he noticed that Nicole folded and unfolded her fingers a few times. Something was on her mind.

Finally, she turned in the seat and faced him. “I owe you an apology.”

That caught him short. “How so?”

She moistened her lips, hesitating, as she seemed to gather her thoughts. “Back in April. When you kissed me.”

Her candor surprised him a little. He cleared his throat. “Nothing to apologize for.”

“I gave you really mixed signals that day.”

“You had a lot on your plate. It’s okay to not always know what you want.”

She sighed. “It’s not that simple. I mean, I really liked it when you kissed me. It was a great kiss.”

“But…”

“But it felt like everything between us was happening so fast.”

“You’re right. We were getting close quickly.” He’d welcomed the fast pace.

She smoothed her hands over her jeans. “My courtship with Richard was very quick. I jumped in without thinking. I swore I’d never do that again.”

He didn’t like any comparison to Braxton. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I’m messing this up. I know you would never hurt me.”

When Ayden’s wife had been alive, they could read each other’s thoughts. With Nicole it was all uncharted territory. Frightening and exciting. “So your point is?”

“When you kissed me, I hadn’t felt like that in a really long time. It just about knocked me off my feet. And I guess that kind of intensity scared me.”

“Fair enough.” Gratefully, his voice remained steady.

She moistened her lips. “I’m not in a position to make any promises or commitments, but if you want to get together again, I’d like that.”

He gripped the steering wheel, praying he kept the car on the road. “Define together.”

She didn’t answer right away. “Sex.”

As much as he wanted her in his bed and his life, he hesitated, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“I don’t know. I guess that video kinda rattled my world. I mean, the feelings for you have always been there, but the video reminded me we only have today.”

“Okay.” He could barely process this. “Are you sure this isn’t about getting back at Braxton?”

She thought for a moment. “No, it’s not.”

He believed her. “Okay.”

“I’ll warn you. It’s been a while and I might not be any good at it anymore.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“How do you know?”

“The way you kissed me in April.”

“Oh.” A frown creased her forehead. “That was good?”

“Yeah.”

She tugged at a loose thread on her cuff. “Just remember I can’t make a commitment.”

“What makes you think I want one?”

She blinked. “Because that’s the kind of guy you are. Rock solid. The marrying kind. I don’t know if I’ll ever marry again.”

She was right. He did want her long term. But if this was all she could give him, then so be it. “All right.”

“All right, what?”

“I accept your terms. Sex with no commitment.”

Surprise widened her eyes a fraction. “I don’t believe you.”

He glanced at her and held her gaze just for a moment. “I’m fine with that.”

Nicole blushed. “Oh.”

“Surprised?”

“Well, yeah.” She shook her head.

“What’s the term? Friends with benefits?”

She laughed. “Yeah.”

“We’re still friends, I hope?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then we’ll work the benefits out.”

She shoved her fingers through her hair. “Okay.”

He was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Unsure of what else to say, he sunk into a silence and kept his attention on the I-95 traffic. Snow had started to fall and it was getting harder and harder to see. The traffic was beyond thick now and cars were bumper to bumper the last few miles.

Soon they took the eastern side of the beltway around the Washington, D.C., metro area and took the Old Towne Alexandria exit. They wound their way through snowy cobblestone streets until they reached the law offices of Wellington and James. Ayden parked the car in the firm’s lot.

“This weather isn’t looking so good,” he said.

The clouds were gray and plump with moisture. “Do you think we’ll be able to get back tonight?”

“I don’t know. We’ll know better when we get a look at the roads after this meeting.”

“Maybe it’ll go quickly?”

He wasn’t optimistic. “Let’s hope.”

They got out of the car and he met her on her side. Nicole was very aware of him—his scent, the way he towered over her, and the firm pressure of his hand on the small of her back. A jolt of energy shot up her arm.

He guided her into the law offices of Wellington and James. The building was located on Union Street and was at least a hundred years old. It had a brick facade and steps and black wrought iron railing. The front door was painted a bright red and a brass knocker hung in the center. A full lush green wreath with a velvet crimson bow hung from the door.

Ayden pushed open the door and they entered the lobby. The reception area was small but nicely decorated. It wasn’t to her tastes—very colonial and very old Virginia. But it was nice. A Chippendale couch and chair hugged the exterior walls and an Oriental rug warmed the floor. A mahogany desk with a state of the art phone sat across from them. It all looked antique and expensive.

“This would have been the kind of place Richard would have chosen,” she said. “It would have suited his ego to know he had an old firm that was well connected. He always insisted on the best.”

“We’ll see.”

Despite the wreath on the outside door, no Christmas decorations adorned the interior. And no one sat at the receptionist desk to greet them. They stood there for a couple of minutes before Ayden cleared his throat. Seconds later they heard quick, purposeful footsteps in the back hallway.

A woman appeared. She was dressed in a sleek dark suit, white shirt, and tasteful pearls. Rich, full, auburn hair hung around her shoulders and framed an oval face. A high slash of cheekbones made her look like a model.

Nicole shifted her stance when she got a good look at the lawyer. This woman would have been Richard’s type. He liked polish and sophistication. The bastard had tried to ingrain that same sleekness in her. On their first date he’d suggested that a change in her eye shadow would enhance her eyes. And like a fool she’d changed the shade for him.

Nicole glanced at her faded jeans, old sweater, and scuffed leather jacket. She took a perverse satisfaction in her disheveled appearance, knowing Richard would have been appalled.

“May I help you?” The woman’s voice was as cultured as her appearance.

“I’m Nicole Piper,” she said clearly. “I received a package from your office. You have something for me.”

“I’m Sergeant David Ayden. I called earlier,” Ayden added.

The woman lifted a brow as her gaze settled on Ayden. “You called about Christina Braxton.”

“I no longer use that name,” Nicole said.

The woman’s gaze flickered to her, but she showed no reaction to the comment. She was clearly accustomed to hiding her thoughts. “My name is Charlotte Wellington.” She extended a manicured hand. She possessed a surprisingly strong grip. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Ms. Wellington released her hand and took Ayden’s. She held his hand an extra beat, a subtle appreciation glowing in her eyes.

Nicole felt a pang of jealousy but tamped it down. Ayden wasn’t hers. She had no holds on him.

Amusement flickered in Ms. Wellington’s eyes when she looked at Nicole. “If you two will follow me into the conference room, I will get your file.”

The two followed Ms. Wellington down a short hall. Off to the side was a small conference room with a round table. The walls were painted cream and paintings of various English hunt scenes decorated the walls.

As Nicole shrugged off her dark jacket, Ayden moved behind her and reached for it. This close, his scent enveloped her and his fingertips brushed her bare skin at the nape of her neck as he pulled the jacket from her. The innocent touch set her nerves on fire.

Ayden seemed unmoved as he draped it over an empty chair. Her heart was racing. He shrugged off his own coat, laid it over hers and took the seat beside her. Broad shoulders brushed hers.

“This should be interesting,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

She wasn’t even close to okay. “I just want this over with.”

“It will be soon.”

Ms. Wellington returned and sat at the head of the table. “Please excuse the lack of staff today. I let everyone go early for the holidays.”

“Thank you for staying to see us,” Ayden said.

“Are the roads as bad as I think?” she said easily.

“Not too bad yet, but they’ll be a mess soon enough,” Ayden said.

Ms. Wellington nodded. “They’re calling for five inches.”

Nicole tempered her rising temper. She’d lost all patience for polite conversation since she’d left Richard. “Can you tell me what Richard left me?”

“Yes.” She removed an unopened manila envelope from her folder. “Mr. Braxton retained my services about eighteen months ago.”

“In July?” Ayden asked.

“Yes. He stopped by only briefly and appeared to be in a rush.”

Nicole’s insides tightened with anger. Her husband had been in a rush to get to Richmond, so that he could kill her. “May I see the envelope?”

Ms. Wellington pressed long fingers over the folder. “First I will need to see identification.”

“That may be a problem,” Nicole said. “As I said, I have changed my name.”

The woman lifted a brow. “Do you have anything that identifies you as Christina Braxton?”

“No. I didn’t bring anything with that name on it when I left California. My driver’s license says Nicole Piper. And you addressed the envelope to Nicole Piper.”

Ms. Wellington pursed her lips. “But I’m to give this information only to Christina Braxton. Unless you have identification, I cannot release the information to you. Mr. Braxton was very specific. He only wanted me to give the envelope to Christina Braxton.”

Frustration ate at Nicole. Everywhere she turned Richard was screwing with her life. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Can you give me your social security number?” the attorney asked.

Nicole drew in a breath. She rattled off the number.

Ms. Wellington raised an eyebrow and nodded. “And your home address in California?”

Nicole held a tart remark. “Twenty-three Pacific Breeze.”

“Correct again.”

Nicole leaned forward. “And just to save you the trouble of asking, Richard’s middle name was Alonzo. His mother’s maiden name was Rodriguez and his birthday was May second.”

Ms. Wellington met her gaze and held it a moment. “You’ve made your point.”

“May I see the folder?” Her patience was ready to snap.

“Just sign here. It’s simply a statement that shows you’ve accepted responsibility for the contents.”

Nicole took the pen and paper. “Which name should I sign?”

“Christina Braxton.”

Aware that Ayden was watching her she signed her old name, adding flourish to the C and B as she’d done in the old days. She pushed the paper back toward the attorney, grateful to have it away from her.

“I will leave you two alone,” Ms. Wellington said. She tucked the paper in a file and rose. “Just let me know when you’re finished.”

“Thanks.” Nicole didn’t raise her gaze from the envelope. When the attorney had closed the door behind her Nicole looked at Ayden. Suddenly she was afraid. “I can’t open it.”

She knew Richard. He had brought her up here to terrorize her. That’s what he liked to do best.

Seeming to understand her hesitation, Ayden nodded. Grimfaced, he ripped open the sealed edge with his thumb and glanced at the contents. “Damn it to hell.”

Chapter Three

Tuesday, December 23, 1:00 P.M.

“What is it?” Nicole felt her throat tighten with dread.

Ayden laid the pages face down. “Pictures.”

Her heart felt as if it would explode in her chest. “What kind of pictures?”

His jaw tightened and released. “Pictures of a murder scene. Claire Carmichael’s murder scene.”

She felt sick. “Taken by the police?”

“No. The killer.” He laid his hands on the pictures, clearly unwilling to let her see them.

She blew out a breath. “How do you know that?”

Ayden tapped his thumb on the table. A small muscle pulsed in his tight jaw. “She’s still alive.”

Nicole raised a shaking hand to her lips. She didn’t want to picture her friend at the mercy of a killer, but dark, frightening images flashed in her head. Nicole knew Claire’s face had been cut dozens of times with a razor.

Smoothing unsteady hands over her thighs she tamped down the fear that clawed at her. She was so glad that Ayden was here now. “Is there anything that tells us who the killer is?”

“Not at first glance, but forensics and the San Francisco police need to go over these.” He glanced in the envelope. “There’s also a key on the bottom.”

“A key?”

He pulled the key out and handed it to her. She picked it up and studied it.

“A safety deposit box key?”

“That’s my guess.” He fished in the envelope again. “There’s a card in here as well. It gives the name of a bank.”

Bitter anger roiled inside her. “So he’s sending us on a scavenger hunt?”

A hunter’s intensity radiated from Ayden. “It appears so.”

“This is so like Richard. So damn controlling.” Tears threatened. “I’m so tired of him ruining my life.”

Ayden laid his strong, calloused hand on hers and held her gaze. “Richard Braxton is dead. He has no more holds on you. You are in control of all this right now. You can stop now and we can turn this over to the local cops.”

“No. No. I want to end this once and for all. Like I’ve said before, I owe Claire this much.” She straightened her shoulders. “Let’s go to that bank.”

Something akin to pride glistened in his eyes. “All right. We’ll go to the bank now.” He checked his watch. “With luck, we’ll be on the road back to Richmond in an hour.”

She nodded but she didn’t believe that they were going to be headed south in sixty minutes. Something deep inside her whispered that their journey was only just beginning.

They rose and Ayden helped her on with her coat. He called out to Ms. Wellington.

Ms. Wellington appeared from an office at the end of the hallway. She moved with confidence and efficiency yet didn’t seem rushed. A neatly plucked eyebrow arched. “Have you gotten everything you needed?”

Ayden studied the woman. “We have for now. But I may return to ask you a few questions.”

“I won’t share information about my client. Attorney-client privilege.” She was so full of righteous indignation.

Anger sparked in Ayden’s eyes. He pulled out the pictures and held them up so that only Ms. Wellington could see them. “Have a good look at these, Ms. Wellington. Your client is responsible for this.”

She glanced at the pictures. For a moment her well-cultured veneer cracked as the horror of the images penetrated her brain. But just as quickly, Ms. Wellington cloaked her emotions and she met Ayden’s gaze. “I had nothing to do with that.”

He hoped the pictures scared her. “But Mr. Braxton did. I believe he or his associate killed this woman.”

“I don’t know anything that can help you.”

Nicole was the one who spoke up. “Her name was Claire Carmichael and she helped me escape my husband. If not for her I’d be dead now, I know that. What you see in that picture … that’s what Richard—your client—did to punish her for helping me.”

“As I said, I had nothing to do with that,” she said evenly.

“We didn’t say you did,” Ayden replied. “But your client did, and I would hope you would help police put that monster behind bars.”

Ms. Wellington swallowed. “I can’t reveal discussions I had between my client and me, but if there is another way I can help, then I will, of course.”

Ayden didn’t seem all that mollified, but he accepted her statement. She likely didn’t have anything to do with the murder but she was protecting the killer. “We’ll be talking again soon. Can you tell me where this bank is?”

She glanced at the card. “Just around the corner, not one hundred yards from here.” She gave them directions and followed them to the front door.

“There’s a small inn two blocks from here on the Potomac. Layfette House,” Ms. Wellington said. “In this mess the roads will be gridlocked by now. Most people don’t know about the inn so it will be the last to fill up.”

Ayden nodded as he turned up the collar of his jacket. “Thanks.”

Nicole and Ayden left the lawyer’s office. Outside the air had turned bitterly cold and the snow fell faster. The heavy downpour wouldn’t let up for a while. Nearly an inch of snow had accumulated on the streets and a white blanket covered Ayden’s car.

He captured Nicole’s elbow and they headed out into the snow. They opted to walk the two blocks instead of taking the car and risking not finding another parking space.

In this historic section the snow, combined with the green wreaths on the town house doors, brick sidewalks, and candles burning in the windows, made the area all the more charming. If not for this dark errand she and Ayden had been given, she would have loved to have slipped her hand into his and walked these streets and savored the beauty.

But she would do neither.

Flecks of snow dusted Ayden’s blond hair. Blue eyes bore into her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I want to believe that.”

Warm calloused fingers wrapped around her chilled hand. “Believe it.”

With him this close, touching her, she knew that she could do anything. Somehow everything would be fine and she didn’t need to be afraid. She felt hopeful. “Okay.”

They walked on the hundred-year-old brick sidewalk down Union Street. In the distance, the Potomac River meandered past as the snow accumulated along its icy shores.

Within minutes they were at the bank doors. Ayden reached forward and pulled on the brass handle. The door was locked. Confused, he checked his watch. “They shouldn’t be closed.”

Nicole glanced to the left and spotted a sign. “Closed early for snow. Will reopen tomorrow. I can’t believe this. The roads aren’t that bad yet.”

He removed his cell from his pocket and dialed a number. “Let me call the state police and see how the roads are doing. If they’re okay we’ll head home and come back tomorrow.”

She hated the idea of having to leave and return, but resolved that it would have to be done. “Okay.”

Ayden asked for a Captain Lou Fraser and waited only seconds before the other man’s deep voice cut through the lines. Ayden’s eyes softened when he smiled and spoke to the man who was clearly a friend. When he smiled, it took years off his appearance and made him, well, dashing. She found her heart beating faster as she stared at him.

He hung up the phone and looked at her. “The interstate is a nightmare and the alternate, U.S. Route One, is just as bad. If we leave now we’ll be sitting in our car for eight hours.”

Her heart sank. She’d never spent a night away from Beth. “I’ve got to get back to my baby.”

“You can call Lindsay and let her know. Beth will be fine with her.”

“I know. I just don’t like being separated from her.” Feelings of worry always plagued her when she thought about her child. That was par for the course with motherhood. But now in the face of Richard’s evil all she wanted to do was hold her baby.

“She’ll be fine,” Ayden said. “And you will be fine.”

“I know.”

“The inn Ms. Wellington mentioned is a block from here.”

She sensed any hotel in this tony section of town would be expensive and she was forced to admit, “I can’t afford a room. My budget is tight.”

“I’ve got it covered.”

“That’s kind of you, but I can’t have you pay for me. You’ve done so much.”

“I don’t mind helping.”

She sighed. “I appreciate this, I really do. But it seems since I left Richard someone has always had to help me. It’s hard being grateful all the time.”

He studied her a moment. “After Julie died, everyone jumped in to help me and the boys. It was great at first. I don’t know how I’d have made it without the help. But it got old after a while. I just wanted to get back to some kind of normal.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case anymore.”

He studied her. “The county’s valor awards are coming up in the summer. What if you take the headshots for the program? We don’t have a budget to pay you, but…”

She smiled, grateful. “I’d be happy to take those pictures.”

“Then we’re even.”

“I doubt that will ever happen.”

“Let’s see if they have a couple of rooms at this inn.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to get warmth in his fingertips.

“Right. Yes.” His logic was doing little to soothe her frantic feelings but she had no choice.

They backtracked their steps and drove to the inn, which was at the river’s edge. The three-story brick building, like the rest of this area, was at least a couple hundred years old. Green wreaths with red bows hung in all the windows and single candles flickered in each. They ducked under a blue awning that extended from the entrance over the sidewalk and hurried up the stairs.

Ayden pushed through the front door and instantly a rush of warm air greeted them. To their right a fire crackled in an ancient fireplace, an Oriental rug warmed an old plank floor, and hunter green walls gave the room an old-world feel.

Across the room stood a ten-foot Virginia Pine Christmas tree. Faux electric candles and strings of dried apples draped the tree and miniature glass teardrop ornaments hung from the branches. The place smelled like apples and cinnamon.

Ayden guided Nicole to the desk across from the tree. Behind the thick wooden desk stood an older man with thinning gray hair and dark-rimmed glasses. He wore a blue suit, white shirt, and a red tie. A red silk handkerchief peeked out from his breast pocket.

The man glanced at Ayden and immediately straightened. “Yes, sir?”

“We need a couple of rooms.” Ayden slid his hand into his pocket.

A couple of rooms. Despite their conversation in the car, he was trying not to rush her. She was touched by his concern, which made Nicole want him more.

The clerk’s gaze darted between the two as if he was trying to figure out what they were about. Nicole could just imagine the thoughts racing through the clerk’s head. She looked like a bohemian artist with her dark hair, turquoise scarf, and leather jacket, while Ayden looked like the poster child for conservative with his dark knee-length coat, white button-down shirt, and khakis.

“We don’t have a couple of rooms,” the man said. “We’ve had an influx of calls in the last thirty minutes. The beltway is clogged and a lot of folks are trapped in town for the night.” Ayden frowned. “But I do have one room. It’s a small. Just one double bed.”

Ayden glanced at Nicole. “What do you think?”

Nicole tripped over the pros and cons. Should they stay? Go elsewhere? Maybe the roads weren’t that bad. They still might get home. And then there was the promise of sex that hung between them. She heard herself say, “We’ll take it.”

Ayden seemed to swallow a smile. “Any port in a storm?”

Nicole nodded. “Right.”

“Any luggage?” the desk clerk said.

“No.” Ayden spoke with a stern confidence that allowed no room for questions.

Nicole felt herself blush. This all felt so illicit though it was anything but. Perhaps it was because she had not been with a man in almost two years, but it wasn’t like she was a silly virgin. There’d been Richard, of course, and before him a couple of boyfriends. But the idea of just lying in the same bed with David Ayden made her mouth go dry.

Nervous energy shot through her as she watched him accept the room key. She stared at his rough, calloused hands and her mind skipped to an image of those same hands touching her bare skin. She’d not been touched in so long.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Uh, yes.”

He smiled. And again he looked so different, so attractive. “Me, too. There’s a restaurant over there.”

“Sounds good.”

They moved into a tiny café. The place was nearly full, but there was one table by the window. The hostess took their coats and promised to have the table ready in a few minutes.

“I need to call Lindsay and let her know where I am.”

“Sure.”

She reached inside her oversize purse crammed full of pacifiers in zip-top bags, spare diapers, toy keys, and a wallet held together with a rubberband. She glanced up at Ayden a bit apologetic. “My cell is in here. Somewhere.”

“No rush.”

Her hand skimmed the bottom and her fingers brushed the phone. She snapped it up. “Gone are the days when all I needed was a couple of bucks and my driver’s license.”

“That’s traveling light.”

“That’s what I did after college. I’d pick up and go into the mountains and shoot sunrises and sunsets. Often I just slept in my car.”

He frowned. “That’s dangerous.”

“I never thought twice in those days. Now I think twice, three times.” She pushed her bangs off her face and dialed Lindsay’s number.

On the fourth ring she heard Lindsay’s breathless, “Hello.”

“Lindsay, it’s Nic. How’s it going with the kids?”

Ayden turned away to give her privacy.

In the background, Nicole heard banging pots. On that end the noise had to be deafening. “Is that Beth?”

Lindsay chuckled. “And Zack and Jack.”

“Your head must be ready to explode.”

“I’m used to the noise at the women’s center. So when are you going to be back?”

“Tomorrow. The roads are blocked by snow.”

“We barely have a dusting down here. But I’m not surprised you guys are getting it up there. D.C. always gets more snow.”

“So you’re okay with Beth for the night?”

“Of course. She is a doll.”

The genuine kindness in Lindsay’s voice eased her nerves. This would have been impossible without Lindsay’s help. “Thanks.”

“So,” she said, dropping her voice a notch. “You and Ayden having a good time?”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “He’s very kind.”

“That’s not what I’m digging for.”

Nicole glanced over at Ayden, who’d turned toward her as if he sensed he was now the topic of conversation. His gaze bore into her and then flickered away. “I’ve got to go.”

“Which is code for he’s standing right there and you can’t talk.”

“Exactly.”

“Before you go, remember the man is nuts for you and a little fun might be just what the doctor ordered.”

“Thanks for the advice.” She hung up to the sound of Lindsay’s laughter.

Outside snow coated the large deck that overlooked the Potomac River. They moved into the restaurant. When Ayden sat across from her, she leaned forward. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”

“Stop saying thank you.”

“Right.”

The hostess seated them at the table by the window. They had a stunning view of the river and the snow falling outside.

A tall officious man wearing an apron over his white shirt, black vest, and pants appeared at the table. He greeted them in French.

Without thinking, Nicole responded in French. The waiter raised an eyebrow. In French he said, “Ah, you speak French, madame.”

“Oui.” As she conversed with the waiter she was aware that Ayden watched her. When they’d placed their drink orders, the waiter left.

“I’m impressed,” Ayden said. “Where’d you learn to speak like that?”

“My parents and I lived in Paris for three years. I was about fifteen. Dad worked for a magazine and he was the Paris editor for a while.”

“I never knew that about you.”

She folded her hands in front of her. “It was a great time.”

“I’ve never been to Europe. My folks’ idea of a vacation was Virginia Beach for a long weekend.”

“I’ve heard it’s fun.”

“To a fifteen year old it was paradise. You miss Europe?”

“Yes. Someday I hope to take Beth there.”

The waiter arrived and served Ayden his coffee and Nicole her glass of wine. Normally, she never drank, but today she needed to settle her nerves. The waiter took their orders and left.

Absently, Ayden lined up the fork and the knife until they were straight like soldiers. “So where else have you lived?”

“After Paris we were in London for a while and Rome before coming to L.A.”

“You speak Italian?”

“Yes. And German. I have an ear for languages.”

“Your parents have passed away?”

“Yes. They were older when I was born. They died shortly after college. I used my small inheritance to start my first business.”

“I don’t know as much about you as I thought.”

“You know all the bad stuff. You know about Richard and all the darkness that went with him. You’ve seen the worst. Believe me, it wasn’t always like that.”

“So what other hidden talents do you have?”

She’d not had wine in so long the few sips had already melted through her. It was nice not to have such a bare-knuckle grip on everything. “I’m a decent baker. Mom insisted I learn to cook. She was Irish and old-world in some ways. A good woman knows how to cook. And I love to camp. Like I said, I didn’t think twice about picking up and heading into the mountains alone for a few days.”

He frowned. “You met Lindsay in L.A.”

“We knew of each other. But we didn’t hang out much. She was so driven and I was just a free spirit.” A smile played on her lips. “Funny. Now I’m the one that’s uptight all the time and she’s the most relaxed I think she’s ever been in her life.”

“I can’t guarantee you’ll be the free spirit you once were. Kids have a way of changing things.”

“How have the boys changed you?”

“I used to ride a Harley.”

She laughed outright, trying to picture him sitting on a bike. “When was that?”

He hesitated as if he didn’t want to admit how long ago it really was. “A few years back.”

“Were you with the department then?”

“No, that was college. I did a couple of years at the community college and then joined the department. I finished up going to school part time at VCU.”

“And the rest is history?”

“Right.”

“How long have you worked homicide?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Long time.”

“Yeah.”

She sipped her wine, wishing it would wash away all the worries and fears and leave her with this relaxed cozy feeling forever. “What’s a favorite Christmas memory you have?”

He frowned and for a moment seemed pensive. “I think it was the year the boys were about four and five. Both were so excited about Santa. But I was working a lot in the weeks up to Christmas and I was hardly home. Julie and I barely saw each other. I had to work on Christmas Eve. I arrived home about six A. M. Julie was up making coffee. I kissed her when I heard the boys’ feet hit the floor. They came downstairs like they were possessed. I remember feeling bad because I hadn’t had time to put the tree up for Julie. Then I saw the light in her eyes. She was so excited. I followed her to the closed living room doors. When she opened the doors it was like she’d opened it to a dream. The tree was up, lit, decorated, and surrounded by gifts. Like magic. Later I told her I was sorry I hadn’t gotten her a gift and she told me my presence was present enough. The boys were jumping up and down begging to get inside. And I remember feeling so damn lucky.”

She could see the memory brought him sadness. “Hey, let’s make a promise right now not to talk about the past or the future tonight. Let’s just keep things in the present.”

Ayden smiled. “That would be good.”

She traced the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “So what do we talk about?”

He sipped his coffee. “How about us? We didn’t come to any conclusion.” The glimmer in his eyes reflected growing desire.

Nicole sipped her wine. In the car she’d been tense and tight. Now she felt relaxed, open, brave even. She wanted Ayden. He not only made her feel safe and secure but sexy and confident.

If she didn’t act on her feelings now, she’d lose her nerve. “How about we just stop talking and go up to the room?”

Ayden’s shocked pleasure gave her the satisfaction of knowing she still had the power to make a man go weak at the knees. She’d forgotten just how exhilarating that felt.

His gaze on her, Ayden signaled the waiter. “Box up our lunch and send it up to our room … in a couple of hours.”

Nicole didn’t hear what the waiter said. She was only aware of Ayden rising. She stood and together they moved toward the elevators.

Charlotte Wellington sat in her office staring at her phone. Beside it was a half-full glass of scotch. In college she’d dreamed of being a lawyer and making a difference. She’d hung out her shingle and expected to take the world by storm. And for a time she’d tasted stunning success. She’d quickly made a name for herself, purchased this building, and hired three other associates.

And then two years ago, the bottom had fallen out. The interest rate of the subprime loan she’d taken out to buy this building had adjusted. Her monthly payments had gone up by almost two grand. Nothing that should have been too devastating, but through a series of flukes, she’d lost her top five clients. She’d been faced with no income and rising expenses.

Charlotte had let go two associates and sublet a few of the office spaces; however, the changes hadn’t been enough. She’d been faced with bankruptcy.

The thought of poverty terrified her. She’d grown up poor, knew what it was like to skip a meal, and she’d worked hard to create Charlotte Wellington and she’d fight tooth and nail to keep what she’d had.

And then Richard Braxton had walked into her office eighteen months ago with a huge retainer check and made three simple requests: mail a letter to his wife, hold a sealed envelope until she arrives, and when she claims the envelope, make one phone call.

Simple, easy, quick money. Almost too good to be true.

But she’d been too desperate to look too closely or ask too many questions.

Charlotte had gratefully accepted the check and mailed the letter. She’d all but forgotten about it until today when Detective Ayden had called.

In the last year, the firm had begun to regain ground. She’d refinanced the building and had just been hired for a high profile criminal case. Things were looking up.

And then Detective Ayden had shown her the pictures that she’d held in the envelope for more than a year and a half.

Devastating images of blood and pain and tears burned her brain.

Charlotte swirled the amber liquid in the crystal glass and then took a hearty sip. She’d had nothing to do with that woman’s murder but still she felt the slice of guilt.

Now, she had one last task to perform for Richard Braxton and she could wash her hands of the man. Dial a number, let the phone ring three times, and hang up.

Charlotte picked up the phone. What was Braxton planning? She tapped her fingers on the phone’s numbers. Her gut was telling her not to make this call. But she’d accepted the fee and agreed to fulfill her contract to her client who’d come into her life when she was most desperate. That had to be worth something.

She picked up the phone and dialed all but one of the numbers. Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared at the buttons. Just push the last number. Her nerves tightened.

Quickly she hung up.

Charlotte sat back in her chair. Images of the woman in the pictures flashed in her mind again.

The woman’s eyes had been haunted with pain and fear. She’d known she was going to die. Her agony must have been incredible.

Charlotte gulped the rest of her scotch. She couldn’t take her gaze off the phone, nor could she summon the courage to complete the call.

Chapter Four

Tuesday, December 23, 2:30 P.M.

Ayden and Nicole didn’t speak as they rode the elevator in silence to the third floor. Amazed at the blend of nerves and desire in his gut, he guided her to the door and opened it with the key.

Nicole walked into the room. Her movements were careful, deliberate. He knew she wanted the sex; knew she was primed for it. But he wished he could read her mind or the subtle expressions on her face.

Ayden closed the door softly behind him. He wouldn’t worry about tomorrow. It was all about now.

Nicole dropped her purse in a chair and faced him. She smiled and moistened her lips as she shrugged off her jacket.

He was so hard he could barely think. He’d long thought he was past the wild passions that drove his teenage sons to distraction. Now it was all he could do to string two thoughts together.

She moved toward him and stared up at him. Her deep brown eyes telegraphed her desire. She slid her arms around his neck and rose up on tiptoes. He banded his arms around her narrow waist and drew her against him. Her full breasts pressed against him.

Driven by a primal desperation, he leaned his head down and kissed her. The first kiss was gentle. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. But the taste set him on fire.

Ayden tipped his head forward and rested his forehead on hers. His heart raced in his chest. “I want you so much.”

Nicole knew that he wanted her. She could feel his desire rolling through him and tensing his muscles. And still he held back because he seemed afraid she’d somehow break. She needed to show him that she was a flesh and blood woman.

“I am not a piece of glass.” Her voice sounded husky. “I’m not fragile and I’m tired of people treating me like I am.”

To add weight to her words, she kissed him on the mouth again, teasing the edges of his lips with her tongue. When it opened she explored his mouth.

Her kiss tore down whatever barriers stood between them. Groaning his desire, he kissed her back, taking control of what she’d started. He threaded his fingers through her hair and fisted it in his hands. He drew her head back so that her neck was exposed and he kissed the hollow.

Nicole arched back, pressing her breasts up for him. She was still nursing her child part time so her breasts were full and ripe with milk. Her nipples hardened.

Ayden drew his head back and stared down at her breasts. Desire burned in him as he leaned down and unfastened the snaps that trailed down the center of her blouse. With each snap, a bit more of her pale skin became exposed to his gaze. When the V of her blouse dipped below her breasts, he unfastened the bra’s hook between them. The soft peaks tumbled free with a small bounce and he bent his head and kissed her nipples.

Nicole sucked in a breath and arched her back. “You are driving me nuts.”

“Good.”

Smiling, she stepped back from him. He watched with keen, sharp eyes as she unfastened the last of the snaps of her blouse and let the fabric fall from her shoulders. She wrestled free of her bra.

She stood before him half naked and nervous, aware that her body was not the sleek, narrow figure that she’d once had. She’d grown curves and a fullness that she’d not been able to lose after the baby.

“God, you are beautiful.” His gaze drilled into her as he stripped off his jacket and laid it on a chair. Carefully he removed his gun and phone from his waistband and laid them on his coat. He stripped off his shirt and the protective vest under it. He moved toward her and cupped her breasts again. He teased the tip of her nipple with his tongue and she closed her eyes and let the sensation build again.

With fumbling hands, Nicole reached for his pants’ button. She unfastened it and the zipper and slid her hand over him. He was hard and ready and she knew neither of them would last much longer.

He pulled her hand away. “It will be over before it starts.”

“Come into me now.”

“I want this to last.” The words sounded as if they’d been ripped from him.

“We have all night.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He backed her up until the back of her knees pressed against the back of the bed. She fell back against the mattress and scooted to the center. Ayden was on top of her in an instant. He straddled her thighs and unfastened her pants. Carefully he unzipped the jeans and she lifted her hips so that he could tug the fabric off her. He tossed them on the floor.

She wanted him inside her now. Waiting was not an option for her.

Ayden pulled off his undershirt and threw it aside. Again he kissed her breasts and licked at the soft pink nipples. Soon he moved to the hollow between her breasts and then began to kiss the tender flesh of her belly.

As if reading her thoughts Ayden smoothed his hand over her hips. “I love your body.” He noted a small butterfly that she’d had tattooed on her hip a few months ago. “What’s this?”

“A bit of rebellion, I suppose.” She grinned. “I feel a little silly now when I think about it. Most people will never see it.”

He kissed the butterfly. “Very sexy.”

Nicole pushed his pants down his hips, exposing him. The invitation was too much for him to guard against. As she cupped her breasts, Ayden pulled in a breath and pushed into her.

Nicole was tight, wet, and so soft he thought he’d come in that instant. God, but he wanted to savor this moment. He’d learned not to count on tomorrow or the next time. He’d learned that all he had was now.

He moved inside of her slowly at first. She groaned her pleasure and, lifting her pelvis, took all of him to the hilt. She smoothed her hand over his buttocks and cupped his flesh. He pushed into her harder.

A primal fierceness grew stronger and stronger in him and soon there was only her and their desire. He moved in her faster. She matched him stroke for stroke, goading him and begging him for more.

She was a polite, civilized woman but her lovemaking was hot and frantic. Desires he’d held at bay for so long broke free and with a groan he shoved inside of her.

Nicole undulated and moved, driving them both toward insanity. She circled her lush breasts with her fingertips and he could stand it no longer. He moved faster and faster.

She moaned and arched her back, calling out his name as she gripped the sheets with her hands.

He came inside of her, draining every ounce of himself into her.

Ayden collapsed against her, resting his face in the hollow of her neck. Their heartbeats hammered against each other. Both their bodies were slick with sweat and they breathed hard as if they’d just finished a long race.

Nicole traced circles on his back and finally when he had the strength, he rolled on his side. He pulled her against him, spooning his naked body against her backside. Possessively, he draped a hand over her body and cupped her breasts.

“That was wonderful,” she said. Already her voice sounded sleepy.

He nuzzled his face into the hollow of her neck. She smelled of roses and lingering desire. “Yeah.”

Within seconds her breathing slowed and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He’d not felt such a sense of rightness in a very long time. In this moment, there were no bad guys, no stresses, no worries. Just this soft, loving woman asleep in his arms.

I love you.

He wanted to whisper the words in her ear. But knew now was not the time. She might have given him her body, but her heart was another matter.

When the phone rang, Denny Smith was startled from a nap. He’d dozed off in front of the wide-screen TV, the fall football game highlights blaring around him.

He jumped to his feet. For a moment he didn’t recognize the ring and was confused. And then it hit him that the ringing came from the phone that had been on the charger on his hip for eighteen months. He had never been without the damn thing that had remained stubbornly silent.

He moved to the phone and noted the incoming phone number. Braxton’s attorney. As instructed he didn’t answer the phone but waited for the ringing to stop.

Braxton had come into Denny’s life eighteen months ago with a suitcase full of cash and a request. When the phone rang, it was time to kill Christina Braxton.

Braxton had made him swear to keep the phone for five years. If the phone didn’t ring in those five years, he was off the hook and could keep the money.

But if the phone rang, Denny was to find Christina at an Alexandria bank. He was supposed to abduct her and kill her. Braxton had paid extra, demanding that her death not be quick. Once Denny delivered her body to a guy named Vincent, he’d get a final bonus.

He’d figured the whole scenario was odd. Why not just off the bitch? Be done with her. Denny’s number one rule was to keep it simple.

But Braxton had a gripping obsession with his wife. The woman had infected him. He still hoped that he would get her back and return to California with her. If anyone was going to kill his wife, Braxton had said, it was going to be him. He would be the one to drain the light from her body.

The hit was just insurance in case Braxton failed, which he’d not planned on doing.

But Braxton did die. He’d been killed in his attempt to steal his wife. Dumb bastard. He’d made the whole scenario too damn complicated.

“Simple is the way to do things. Not complicated.”

Denny had expected Christina to take Braxton’s bait soon after his death. But she hadn’t. And he’d been forced to wait.

Some would have written the deal off when Braxton had died. After all, who kept a promise to a dead man?

But Denny prided himself on honor. A man in this business was only as good as his word.

Denny pushed out of his reclining chair and went to the armoire across the room. It was made of walnut and its lines were plain. It was easier for him to think when things were uncomplicated.

From the armoire he pulled out a gun safe, dialed in the combination and pulled out a.22 revolver. The gun was hardly fancy or high-powered. A TV crook would have picked a semi-automatic or something exotic. But those kind of guns jammed and they left shell casings.

His .22 could kill just as easily and he avoided complications. He slipped on his gun holster and stuck the gun inside. He shrugged on a brown leather jacket that made him look like a biker.

Denny stopped by a wall mirror and combed his hands through his thick black hair. His first stop would be the bank. That’s where the attorney was to send the woman. Braxton had promised she’d be delayed at the bank at least two hours. Plenty of time for him to nab her.

Chapter Five

Tuesday, December 23, 4:00 P.M.

Nicole wasn’t sure how long she’d dozed. She only knew that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt more relaxed or content. The restless energy that had dogged her for so long was gone. In this room, with Ayden’s body spooned against hers, all felt right with the world.

Ayden traced his hand along her naked thigh. His touch wasn’t possessive, or seductive even. It was familiar, tender, as if he’d touched her a thousand times. For a moment, promises of a future with Ayden whispered in her head. They were sweet, alluring, and tempted Nicole to open her heart. She stopped. She and Ayden had right now. And now would have to be enough.

She rolled on her back and the sheet slipped away from her full breasts. Ayden had propped his head up on his hand. “How long have you been awake?”

He smiled. “Just a little while.”

She suspected it had been more time than that.

Ayden moved his hand to her flat stomach and traced circles around her belly button.

Her heartbeat kicked from slow to high gear. She traced her hand down his flat abs, stopping just below his waist. Already he was hard and ready for her.

“How about you roll on your back,” Nicole said. She scrambled to her knees. Dark hair brushed her shoulders and caressed the tops of her breasts. She wasn’t sure that he would. That he would let her be in control.

Amusement and a warming desire sparked in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” He rolled on his back and tucked his hands behind his head. He didn’t take his gaze off her and reached forward to brush her hair aside so that he could see her breasts.

Nicole moistened her lips and straddled him. His erection brushed her inner thigh. She laid her hands on his chest and smoothed them down his flat belly as she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. The searing kiss brought his hands up to her hips and he cupped her buttocks.

Heat rose up in Nicole. She wanted to take her time, to savor their lovemaking, but already she burned to have him inside of her. He teased her nipples until they were hard.

Hoping to temper her desire, Nicole leaned back out of his reach. Her heart thumped wildly. She was so moist. She kissed him hard on the lips and he threaded his hands through her thick dark hair.

Her hand slid down his belly until it wrapped around his hardness. She could tease him and not lose herself to the pleasure.

A growl rumbled in Ayden’s chest when she wrapped her fingers around him. “You’re driving me insane,” he said.

“That’s the plan.”

In a quick move he freed himself from her and rolled so that he now had her under him. He straddled her.

“I’m in charge,” she said with breathless excitement.

“Maybe some other time when I’m not about to explode.”

Some other time. This wasn’t just one night for Ayden. He wanted more. Nicole wasn’t sure that she could give him that, but for now she wanted him so badly that she refused to argue.

She smiled and opened her legs. He pushed inside of her and she gripped the sheets as he moved faster and faster in her.

When the explosion came, they collapsed against each other, their bodies slick with sweat.

Denny quickly discovered that the bank had closed early because of the snow. He’d been thrown for a second before he remembered the lawyer. She had seen Christina Braxton, otherwise she would not have called.

He smiled. He’d wanted to meet Charlotte face to face for more than eighteen months. He’d done some checking when Braxton had tossed out her name. She’d come up hard like him and had scraped her way to the top. She wasn’t no country club miss. She was trailer park. Like him.

He’d kept his eye on her and checked on her from time to time. He’d never approached her. Just watched from afar when the mood struck. She was a looker. Long legs. Red hair. More than once he’d imagined that red hair splayed on a pillow as he buried himself between her creamy white legs and strangled the life from her.

Now that he was actually going to meet her, he felt a bit nervous. As tempted as he was to try her out this afternoon, he knew he wouldn’t. The job came first.

Keep it simple.

He arrived at the law offices of Wellington and James just before five. He wasn’t sure if anyone would be there. Most of the town had cleared out because of the snow and holiday. But when he tried the front door he was pleased to discover it was unlocked. Braxton had said that Charlotte Wellington was a hardworking woman. In fact, if she’d not been working late that summer night, Braxton wouldn’t have hired her.

Denny pushed through the door, careful to be as quiet as possible, and then he locked the front door behind him. Better he had surprise on his side.

He paused at the doormat by the front entrance and wiped his feet before crossing the carpeted floor to the hallway that led to the back.

The place looked very fancy, high-end. Classy. For Denny, he didn’t care so much about the class. As long as he had his cars to work on and money for good beer, he was content. He worked just enough for people like Braxton so he didn’t have to get a real job.

Denny reached to the holster in the hollow of his back and pulled out the .22. He screwed a silencer on the tip. He also carried a knife and brass knuckles but hoped neither would be necessary.

The offices down the narrow hallway were all dark except the last on the left. Good. He moved down the hallway, his soft-soled shoes soundless on the hardwood floors.

He tensed when he heard the rustle of papers and the squeak of a chair. Quick and easy was all he was asking for. He put his gun behind his back.

Denny paused inches before the threshold. From this angle he could see Charlotte, who sat behind her desk, her head bent forward. This close he could see that her skin was as pale as a china doll’s and her reddish hair hung loose around her shoulders like spun silk. She wore a frown and her right hand clenched her pen.

He moved to the doorway and watched as her gaze flickered up to him. First, green eyes sparked with surprise, then confusion, and then fear. He liked the fear.

“May I help you?”

Even her voice sounded rich.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in such a rush to get back to his car. Christina Braxton wasn’t going anywhere until the weather broke.

Simple, you dumb bastard. Keep it simple.

The voices chanted in his head. The last time he’d ignored the voices he’d almost gotten arrested. That had been in New York five years ago. And since then he’d faithfully heeded the advice. But today, he resented them. New York was a long time ago. And didn’t he deserve a little fun?

A touch of complicated wouldn’t hurt.

“Do you work for Wellington or James?” The question was meant to rattle her cage some more.

Charlotte lifted a neatly plucked brow like she was queen of the world. “I am Wellington.”

He didn’t mind the spark of anger. She had pride, a great rack, and she was smart. Not such a bad combination. “Sorry, Ms. Wellington.”

She rose and he could see that her dark skirt hugged a narrow waist and hips that rounded out just right. “What can I do for you, Mr. …?”

“Smith. Mr. Smith.” Denny let his gaze flicker over her figure. So nice.

He moved into the office knowing that invading her space would set her on edge. Experience had taught him how easy it was to unnerve someone just by getting too close. Upsetting Charlotte gave him a perverse pleasure. “You the only one here today?”

“No, I’m not.”

The faint flicker in her glance told him she was lying. “Come on, there’s no one else here right now.”

Charlotte Wellington reached for the phone on her desk. She wasn’t one to play games. Too bad.

Smiling, he swung the gun out from behind his back and pointed it at her. She needed to understand that he was in charge. “No phone.”

She dropped her hand, but to her credit, remained as calm and cool as if they were the best of friends. A rack. Brains. And now balls, so to speak. He liked breaking this one.

“What do you want? I don’t keep much cash on hand.” She kept her gaze direct as she nervously moistened her lips.

“Not looking for money.” He moved closer until he was only a foot from her desk. This close he could smell her perfume. Rich. Spicy. “You sure don’t look like any of the lawyers I’ve ever worked with. Mind if I call you Charlotte?”

She raised her chin. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And no, you may not call me Charlotte.”

That bit of sass made him laugh. “You should be complimented, Charlotte. It’s meant as one.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You got a first name, Mr. Smith?”

“Denny. Denny Smith.” Why not give his name? She’d not be telling anyone.

She was doing her best to look unruffled but he could see that she was scared. The rapid rise and fall of her chest. The way she fisted and unfisted those long, manicured fingers. “No reason to be scared, Charlotte. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What do you want, Mr. Smith?”

“It’s the holidays, Charlotte. Why are you working here all alone?”

“I’m not alone.”

“Charlotte, come on. I know when you’re lying. I always know when people lie. I kinda have a gift for that.”

“I’m working today because there’s a mountain of paperwork that needs to be done. My boyfriend is going to be here soon. We have a party to go to.”

In all the times he’d checked up on her, a boyfriend had never materialized. The gun still trained on her, he sat in the leather chair across from her. He crossed his legs. “Sit.”

Charlotte hesitated just a fraction and then sat down. She tapped her index finger on her desk.

“I can almost hear your mind working.”

“Really?”

“You’re wondering what I’m going to do.”

“I’m wondering when my boyfriend is going to get here.”

“You don’t have a guy. Your life is this office. I know. Because I’ve been watching you.”

Her skin paled and her eyes darkened for a moment. “What do you want, Mr. Smith?”

He shrugged. “You called me, Charlotte.”

“What do you mean, I called you? I’ve been working all day.”

“Three rings, Charlotte, and then a hang up. If you’re the only one working here today, you called me.”

Tension tightened her spine and she sat so straight he thought he’d hear her spine crack. “I called a number.”

He was really enjoying himself. “My number.”

Fear did flicker in those green eyes now. “I hung up. We never spoke.”

“I’ve been waiting for that call. You see, we had a mutual friend. Richard Braxton.”

He straightened the cuff of his pant leg, which had gotten a little twisted when he’d walked here. “The bank was closed, so I decided to come to you. I need to know where Mrs. Braxton is, Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s heart hammered in her chest and it took all her resources not to show her fear. But when she thought about the pictures in the file that Detective Ayden had shown her, she nearly cracked. Since she’d made the phone call, she’d done a few Internet searches, trying to find out what had happened to Claire Carmichael. The San Francisco Chronicle told her what she’d needed.

Those images of Claire swirled in her head now as she faced the man. She was grateful she didn’t know where Nicole Piper had gone. She prayed she’d fled this damn city. “She left here about two hours ago. I don’t know where she went.”

He relaxed back in his chair and tapped his index finger on the butt of his gun. “Getting the truth out of someone with the first question is sorta like hitting the lottery, Charlotte. A one in a million shot. And in my thirty-eight years, I’ve never hit the lottery.”

She laid her long fingers on her desk. Keep him talking. Don’t panic. “I promise you, Mr. Smith, that I don’t know where Christina Braxton went. Her late husband instructed me to leave her alone when she opened her package. He then told me to call you. I’ve done only what he asked.”

“Was she alone?”

Her lips flattened. She didn’t want to tell him anything. But a sprinkle of truth always made the lies more believable. “There was a man with her.”

Mr. Smith scratched his chin. “You think they left the city?”

Her voice remained steady. “Yes.”

“Please. The roads are a mess.”

“She was determined to get home. Chances are they’re stuck on the beltway somewhere.”

“I don’t think so, Charlotte. My guess is that they’re in a hotel or restaurant. What was the man’s name?”

“Ayden. I think he was her boyfriend.” She wasn’t certain about that one. It was just a vibe she’d gotten from them. She debated whether or not to tell Denny that Ayden was a cop, and then decided not to. If she didn’t get out of here alive, it would be better for Ayden if Denny wasn’t expecting to meet an armed cop.

Mr. Smith seemed to consider what she’d told him. “My bet is they landed in one of the four hotels near here.”

“I told you they left.”

“You’re lying.” He leveled his gun at her heart. The amusement in his eyes vanished and they hardened with a look that chilled her.

Simmering panic exploded. She arched back in her chair trying to press herself through the leather. “Look, we both work for the same man. There’s no reason to kill me. I’d be a fool to withhold information from you.”

He leaned forward. “Christina Braxton is trapped in this town somewhere until morning. I’ll find her within an hour.”

“Then just leave me. I won’t say a word. I swear.”

“Like I’m gonna buy that one. Besides, I like you when you’re afraid, Charlotte. It makes your pale skin blush and the sharpness in your gaze fade.”

Silent, she stiffened.

“Stand up, Charlotte.” He rose and gestured upward with his gun.

Charlotte’s legs felt like rubber and she could barely draw in a deep breath. Even as images of the Carmichael woman flashed in her head, she rose and met and held his gaze. “I don’t want to die, Mr. Smith.”

“Who does, Charlotte?”

“I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” Maybe she could get him to lower his guard. “Denny, please.”

The smile deepened in his eyes. “Take your blouse off, Charlotte.”

A rush of cold trickled down her back. “What?”

“Take it off, slowly.”

She lifted her chin. “No.”

“I’ll only ask one more time.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “No.”

Without fanfare, he fired. The bullet struck her in the side, tearing through her flesh like hot steel. For a moment she just stood there stunned, as adrenaline pumped through her system. And then the pain came in a hard punishing wave and she dropped forward on her desk.

His expression remained so damn calm. “I should just kill you. But I’ve thought about this moment for so long. And it is Christmas. Take your jacket off.”

Blood seeped from her wound and stained her blouse. Pain robbed her of breath. He was going to rape her and then kill her. Terror nearly paralyzed her. But she dug deep and summoned the shreds of her courage.

Carefully, she rose and started to unfasten the buttons of her jacket.

His eyes glistened. “Don’t rush it, baby. Don’t rush it.”

It took little effort to wince as she shrugged it off. She glanced down and saw a letter opener and made a point to drop her jacket over it.

“Take your blouse off.”

She started to unfasten the pearl buttons of her blouse. His gaze settled on the swell of her breasts. She used that moment to place her hand on the jacket over the opener.

“Lace bra,” he said. “I knew you wore lace.”

Charlotte pretended to wince and double forward. Her hand over the hidden letter opener, she dropped to the floor and pulled both the jacket and opener with her. She curled up in a ball and dug the opener out.

Slow, purposeful footsteps creaked against the floor as he moved around the desk. “Get up, Charlotte.”

She gripped the letter opener. She’d never be able to kill him or stop him, but if she could delay him long enough, she could escape through the bathroom door located next to her desk. This building was old and the walls and doors were thick.

The soft-soled shoes appeared by her face. “Get up, Charlotte. You’re being dramatic. That bullet didn’t hit any vital organs.”

In one swift move she jerked the letter opener forward and rammed it into the top of his shoe. The man screamed and fired his gun. This bullet went wide and hit the floor by her head.

“Shit.” He recoiled a second.

She scrambled to her feet and dashed to the bathroom. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back against him. Pain attacked every nerve ending in her body.

“Not smart, Charlotte,” he hissed. He shoved her forward against the desk so her stomach dug painfully into the wood. He pressed the gun to her head as he fumbled with the hem of her skirt.

She screamed. Tears rolled down her face.

He jabbed the butt of the gun into her wound and she nearly blacked out from the pain. Somehow she remained conscious. Her fingers brushed a crystal paperweight on her desk.

Denny pushed his thigh between her legs.

Seizing the few seconds she had, she gripped the paperweight and swung back with it with all the force she could muster. The blunt edge caught his jaw and tossed him off balance. Hair ripped from the roots as she tore free and dashed to the bathroom. This time she was able to slam the door and lock it.

“Damn you,” he muttered.

She pressed herself against the wall farthest from the door and dropped to her knees. Her entire side was wet with blood.

She waited for a pounding or the pop of bullets. Neither came. Outside there was a deadly calm. And then she heard the scrape of furniture over her floor.

“I got to hand it to you, Charlotte. You’re a whole lot more than I expected.” He sounded breathless. He was hurting. Good. “That fancy desk of yours is in front of the bathroom door, in case you’re wondering. You aren’t going anywhere, but don’t worry, I’ll be back when I take care of Christina. Then we’ll finish what we started.”

Charlotte glanced down at the plume of blood growing on her silk blouse. “Monster.”

“Happy holidays, Charlotte.” His voice sounded so pleasant, as if they were old friends. “And I’ll be sure to lock up on my way out and leave a note saying you’ll be closed until next Monday. Don’t want anybody stopping by.”

She listened as his uneven footsteps faded down the hallway. In the distance the front door closed.

Gripping her midsection, Charlotte pulled herself up and moved to the door. It was jammed shut.

She was trapped.

♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥

Chapter Six

Tuesday, December 23, 5:00 P.M.

Ayden sat in the darkened corner of their hotel room watching Nicole as she slept. Making love to her had rekindled everything he’d felt for her and more. He’d do whatever it took to protect her.

He glanced at the envelope they’d picked up at the law offices. He’d gone into the hallway and called San Francisco PD and spoken to a Detective Rio about the Carmichael murder. California authorities had theorized that Braxton had killed the woman but they had never been able to prove it. He told them about the photos and the twisted treasure hunt he and Nicole were on now. With luck they’d nail the killer and Carmichael’s family would have closure. Rio had been excited about the development. The Carmichael case had haunted him like few other murders had. Before he’d hung up, Ayden had promised to call as soon as he had more information.

Ayden cringed when he looked at the horrendous shots. No one deserved to die like this.

Rage roiled inside of him. Now more than ever he wanted to get to that bank and find evidence linking this murder to a killer. Whoever had killed Claire Carmichael deserved to rot in jail. He replaced the pictures in the envelope.

He glanced at Nicole. No wonder the woman had been afraid to commit to him. She’d lived with the devil. God only knew what horrors she’d survived. He’d been arrogant and wrong to expect so much from her so soon.

He knew now he’d give her as much time as she needed. If light and easy was all she could give, he’d take it. He wanted her in his life, even if the terms weren’t his.

Nicole’s hand slid leisurely to his side of the bed and when she realized he wasn’t there she rolled on her back and then sat up. The sheet dropped from her breasts and he felt his insides tighten.

For a moment her eyes looked a little wild, confused, as if she didn’t know where she was. And then her gaze settled on him. Instantly, the wildness vanished and a lazy smile tugged at the edge of her lips. She lifted the sheet casually over her breasts but the left side dropped low enough for him to see the soft mound just above her nipple.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked. Her voice sounded husky.

Already, he ached to touch her. He wanted to take her in his arms, make love to her again, and banish all the violence she’d suffered from her memory. “Not long. An hour maybe.”

She studied his face and frowned. “You look worried.”

He deliberately smiled. “I always look worried. It’s part of the job.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Dropping the sheet, she rose. She walked toward him naked, her gait relaxed and familiar, as if they’d been together for years. She sat on his lap, draped her arm around his shoulder, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Ayden wrapped his arm around her narrow waist. He grew harder, if that were possible. “At the rate we’re going, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Lightly, she kissed his neck and then nibbled his ear with her teeth. “That such a bad thing?”

He chuckled. “I’ll find a way to survive.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “Good. I like having you around.”

They moved to the bed and made love a third time. This time he took his time. The fever that had consumed them before had eased and they were able to explore each other’s bodies leisurely. He’d forgotten how exhilarating the discovery process could be.

Ayden loved touching her. He loved her scent. The way her belly convulsed a little when he kissed her. The butterfly tattoo on her hip.

Nicole’s heartbeat raced as Ayden touched her body. In no rush, he took his time kissing every inch of her bare skin. Calloused hands cupped her breasts and teased her nipples into hard peaks. Fire shot through her body and she instantly grew moist.

She hissed when his hand slid from her breast down her belly.

“Nicole, you are so beautiful. So lovely.”

Here, now, she felt beautiful. The doubts and fears Richard had tried to brand into her had vanished.

She ached for him to touch her and to bring her desire to a climax. “Please.”

He glanced up, his gaze skimming over her to meet hers. The devil’s glint sparked in his gray eyes. “Not yet. There’s no rush, darlin’.”

Purposefully, he slid lower. Nicole moaned as he kissed the most sensitive spot between her legs. He cupped her buttocks and lifted her hips as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Nicole’s head dropped back against the pillow. So wrapped in desire, she was helpless to speak or move.

Nicole slid her fingers through his thick hair. The fire inside of her had reached a peak and she knew if he didn’t enter her soon, she’d go mad. “David.”

The single word held a wealth of meaning that he clearly understood. He rose up and stripped his pants off. And then he straddled her and in one steady thrust he entered her. She wrapped her legs around him, taking him in as deeply as possible. He moved inside of her, his thrusts hard and sure. She matched his rhythm, willing to accept what he offered.

When her release came, she called out his name and he drove into her to the hilt. Their bodies clenched in a hard spasm that seemed to last forever and then in a rush the tension fled their bodies.

Ayden collapsed against Nicole. Sweat from both their bodies mingled. Their heartbeats hammered in unison.

He held her for a long time, content to trace his finger up and down her arm and to kiss her hair. He whispered in her ear. “You are beautiful. I love touching you.” The endearments made her smile.

Later they opened the boxed lunches that had gone untouched until now. They sat on a towel on the floor, picnic style.

She’d slipped on her sweater and panties, and he’d slipped on his trousers. “I don’t want any of this to end. If it wasn’t for Beth, I’d never leave this room.”

Ayden didn’t want to destroy the magic of this afternoon either. He would have gladly locked them both inside for as long as humanly possible. But there was a life out there that neither could deny. And there were problems that had to be addressed.

“I understand,” he said. “But we both know there are things we need to talk about.”

She dropped her gaze to the half-eaten sandwich in her hand. Some of the light faded from her eyes and he could have kicked himself for dousing it. “You want to talk about Richard.”

“It’s not something I want. But it needs to be done.”

Nicole set down her sandwich. Even as she nodded her agreement her shoulders tensed. “What do you want to know?”

He tightened his jaw. Like it or not, he had to think like a cop now. “Anything you can tell me. I’m trying to figure out what kind of game Braxton is playing.”

“Richard was very stylish and sophisticated. Appearances were everything.”

“He owned his own business.”

“Yes. Though I couldn’t tell you what he did. Many times he’d have a dress sent to me along with a note. ‘Be ready by six.’ I learned to do as he said and not question. I met some of the men he did business with but they rarely spoke in great detail around me.” She sighed. “All of the men who worked with Richard were afraid of him. I only remember one questioning him. And he vanished from the party within minutes. His body was found by the Golden Gate. He’d been shot.”

Ayden nodded. “San Francisco police suspected Braxton in several unsolved murders.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he committed them all. He didn’t like being crossed.”

“Tell me again how you met.”

“When we met I had a small photography studio in San Francisco. I was living hand to mouth but I didn’t care. I was having a ball and some of my work was starting to catch on. Local art galleries were carrying my work. I had a bit of a following.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

“Richard ducked in to avoid a rainstorm. He was very charming and asked me out. I agreed. For a time it was like magic. Flowers every day, small gifts, phone calls. When he asked me to marry him, it seemed so natural. I saw us growing old together.” She frowned. “But after the wedding things changed almost immediately. When I spent time with my friends or working, he would get angry and annoyed. Said I didn’t love him. I don’t know why I felt like I had to prove my love to him, but I did. So I gave up my friends. Soon I was so isolated. Then he really started to criticize me. And then he hit me.”

Ayden was adept at keeping his expression neutral but it was hard. It angered him that Braxton had treated Nicole so viciously. “I wish I’d been there to protect you.”

She shook her head. “I probably wouldn’t have listened. I thought if I tried a little harder I could fix his anger.”

He touched her cheek with his hand. For a moment neither spoke and then softly he said, “Would Vincent have killed Claire for Braxton?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “He would have done anything for Richard. He was intensely loyal. But I don’t think he did.”

“Why?”

“Because Vincent was very efficient. He did the job he was paid to do and there was no emotion. He didn’t waste time inflicting pain. Claire’s killer was angry. And she suffered. No matter what Richard said on that video I think now that he killed her.”

“What do you think is at the bank?”

“It would only be guesses now. But knowing Richard, probably another clue or even nothing. Jerking me around like this—controlling me—would have given him great pleasure. He knew driving north on the interstate would have terrified me. He knew I’d have no one up here to rely on. He should have been laughing in hell right now.” A smile lifted her lips. “What he hadn’t expected was you being here with me.”

He took pleasure knowing his presence would have driven Braxton insane. “I doubt he envisioned the scenario that’s played out.”

She smiled. “No. He didn’t.”

“Do you have regrets?”

“About us?” She sounded surprised by the question. “None. Never. You?”

“None.” He chose his words carefully. “This is what I’ve wanted for a very long time, Nicole.”

“I know.” She grew silent. “I’m sorry again that I pushed you away in the spring.”

“Don’t be.”

He had promised himself that he’d be patient, but with Nicole it was hard. He feared if he weren’t careful she’d slip through his fingers and they’d return to Richmond and all this would be just a sweet memory. “I’d like to see you when we get back to Richmond. And I don’t mean as friends.”

“I don’t want to make promises. I just don’t know what I can give over the long term.”

Ayden would be lying if that remark didn’t disappoint. “I know. Let’s just take it one step at a time. We can go at your pace.”

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I think I can do that.”

Nicole’s lips tasted sweet. He was very aware that she’d made no commitments.

Denny had altered his appearance after he’d left Charlotte’s office. He’d changed out of the black wig and glasses and chosen an auburn one. He’d slipped on a turtleneck and tweed jacket over his T-shirt and selected a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from the collection in the trunk of his car. He lost time bandaging his foot, which had a deep puncture wound. It ached like a son of a bitch and he knew he’d definitely double back and pay Charlotte back for the inconvenience.

Now he looked more like an attorney than a biker. The change in appearance meant few would question his presence. And, in case he couldn’t get back to Charlotte, he wouldn’t be connected to her attack.

It had taken him more than an hour to visit three of the four hotels in a mile radius of the bank. No one at the first three hotels had heard of a Christina Braxton or a guy named Ayden. No one recognized the picture he had of her. He was tired and getting frustrated when he reached the Layfette House just after eight. Irritated, he was ready to be done with this job. The pain in his foot had migrated up his leg.

Denny welcomed the heat of the lobby as he moved gingerly across the carpeted floor to the front desk. A young woman stood behind the counter. She was young, heavyset, and had dark hair and chocolate eyes. He smiled, knowing that most women liked the way he looked when he was dressed like this. Chicks digged the brainy types.

He laid his right hand on the counter but didn’t lean too close so that he didn’t invade the woman’s space. “Good evening.”

She smiled. Her teeth were crooked and her mascara a bit too thick for his tastes. He’d liked the way Charlotte had looked. Clean, simple, elegant. He couldn’t wait to return to her.

“Good evening, sir.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

She frowned. “We can’t give out the names of our guests.”

Everyone said that but the fact was that desk clerks didn’t make much money and for a couple hundred bucks they’d toss him all kinds of information.

He laid Christina’s picture on the table along with two one hundred-dollar bills. “She’s my sister. She lives in New York and came home for the holidays. Long story short, she and Mom had a fight during the big family meal we were having. See, we normally eat on Christmas Day but Mom has cancer and was in the hospital until yesterday. Anyway, figured it was best to eat today seeing as she’s so weak. We got the table set and the turkey and trimmings on the table when Mom asks Chris, my sister, if she’s going to ever get married. Chris got all mad and stormed out. She’s always been dramatic.”

The desk clerk seemed to sympathize with his story. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Are you sure? My job is to find her so we have peace on earth. It’s a big family dinner. And frankly this could be Mom’s last Christmas.” He dropped his voice a notch. “The cancer’s spread to her bone.”

The woman’s eyes softened a little as her gaze dropped to the picture and the money. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t really say.”

Not an out-and-out no like he’d received at the other hotels. “It’s Christmas and you could really help me out.”

She nibbled her lip.

He pushed the money toward her. “Mom has been crying for the last couple of hours. Dad is near tears. It’s a mess.” He nudged Christina’s picture toward her. “A little extra change couldn’t hurt this time of year.”

She glanced from side to side and then laid her hand over the bills. She pulled them toward her.

Denny’s first reaction was to slap his hand over hers. He didn’t want her to take the money until she told him what he wanted, but he played it relaxed like a novice might. “So you’ve seen her?”

“She checked in with a man this afternoon. She came down for soda about a half hour ago and then went back to her room.”

He leaned forward. “What’s the guy’s name?”

She glanced at her computer screen and punched a couple of buttons. “David Ayden from Richmond.”

David Ayden. That fit. “I didn’t realize her boyfriend had come with her.” He smiled. “Are they still here?”

“Yes.”

“That’s excellent.”

“I can’t tell you the room.” She glanced from side to side. “Then people will know we talked.”

“No sweat. I’ll just take a seat in the bar and wait. They’ve got to come out sometime.”

She lowered her voice. “You’re not going to say I told you anything.”

He pretended to lock his lips closed and toss away a key. “Just between the two of us.”

Charlotte checked her wristwatch. Denny had been gone almost an hour. She’d half expected him to double back and kill her but the lapse of time told her he’d gone after Nicole. She said a prayer for the woman and hoped Ayden could save her.

For as long as she lived, she’d regret that phone call. But regrets had never gotten her anywhere and they wouldn’t get her out of this room.

As bad as she felt for Nicole she knew she had a little time to figure out an escape plan. If she got out of here, she could help Nicole. She kicked off her high heels and rose from the bathroom floor.

Every inch of her body ached. The bleeding in her side had slowed and the blood had started to clot and crust on her skin. She’d not bleed to death today, but the pain in her side did not ease her fears.

With a wince, Charlotte unfastened the pearl buttons of her blouse, peeled back the silk, and inspected her wound. The left side of her blouse was crimson and wet. With trembling hands, she slid off the blouse. The first glance at the blood and wound nearly made her stomach reel. She’d never been fond of the sight of blood, especially her own.

Faint heart never won… The words had been her mother’s mantra for as long as she could remember and it had been hers since the day she’d decided to leave the trailer park behind. She grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the spindle, rose up gently and turned on the tap. She ran the tissue under the water and then squeezed out the excess. She placed it on the blood caked over the wound. Immediately, she yelped. “Damn it!”

The pain took her breath away and for a moment she had to pause and wait for her heart to stop thundering in her chest.

Gingerly, she dabbed the wound until the area around it was clean. A tentative touch to the skin told her that the bullet was in her, lodged deep inside. There was no getting it out now. She’d cleaned it as best she could. Her best bet now was to find a way out of this room.

She’d tried the door several times but the desk Denny had shoved in front of it ensured it wouldn’t budge. She pressed her ear to the door.

“Help! Can anyone hear me?” There was no answer but she shouted for another five minutes before pain and fatigue got the better of her.

No one was going to save her. It was up to her to get out of this damn bathroom.

She wondered if Denny had found Nicole and Ayden. The Layfette House was an out of the way, romantic place few knew about. Most tourists went for the chain hotels.

Though the couple had tried to play it cool, the sexual chemistry between them snapped.

“You’re getting soft, Wellington,” she whispered. Normally, she didn’t encourage romance. Fanciful and foolish as far as she was concerned. But it was Christmas after all.

Now she prayed her moment of weakness had saved the couple’s lives.

A wave of dizziness washed over her. Her vision blurred. She moistened her lips as she closed and opened her eyes. She focused on the wallpaper, a hunt scene that featured strong greens and reds. She’d chosen it because she’d seen it in a magazine. It had looked expensive and spoke of old money.

The time and effort she’d put into decorating a bathroom now seemed so foolish. “Gracie Jane Wells, Grannie always said your high ambitions would come to no good. And look where it got you. Dying, alone, and during the holidays no less.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Not so much from dying, which she didn’t want to do, but at the waste. She’d scrimped and saved and worked so damn hard to get out of the trailer park and make herself into a person worth knowing. And now a job that had bothered her from the beginning was biting her in the ass.

“I ain’t dying today.” Wincing, she straightened herself up and glanced around the bathroom again. The vent on the ceiling was too small for her to fit through even if she could have climbed on the pedestal sink and hoisted herself up there.

There were no windows. The only way out was the door and it was jammed.

She stared at the door, hating the thick walnut that she’d been so proud of when she’d purchased the place. The old wood was as hard as iron and it would take an ax to penetrate. Even if she had an ax she doubted she’d be able to wield it.

She laid her head against the cool wood. “I’m not dying here. I am not dying here.”

Raising her head, she ran her manicured hand over the smooth wood. That’s when she noticed the hinges on the door. Why the devil hadn’t she noticed them before? Brass pegs secured each of the three brass hinges. If she could remove the pegs, the door would fall open. Once it was open she could crawl over the desk and get to her phone.

The middle peg was the easiest to reach, so she started with it. She tried to pull it free of the hinge, but it didn’t budge. She tugged harder, her hand slipped, and she snapped the French manicured nail on her index finger. “Shit.”

For a moment she was incensed. She’d just had her nails done last night. And then the absurdity of it all made her laugh. Good Lord, she was bleeding, trapped, and most likely would have to face down a killer. And she was worried about a damn nail. She laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Finally, she stayed her nervous laughter. She’d have to find something to jab the hinge free. She didn’t want to be here when Denny returned.

Charlotte needed something stronger than her finger to wedge the peg out of the hinge. Glancing around the room, she saw nothing that would work except the sharp heel of her pumps.

Grimacing, Charlotte leaned over and picked up the shoe. The pumps had cost her three hundred dollars a few years ago and she’d lovingly cared for them like children.

She started to work on the peg. In seconds the soft leather ripped. She cringed and then reminded herself dead women didn’t wear shoes.

Chapter Seven

Wednesday, December 24, 8:00 A.M.

Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt, well, complete. She loved Beth and couldn’t imagine her life without her child, but last night with Ayden had filled a need that went beyond the mind-blowing sex. For the first time, the idea of a life with him didn’t scare her.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off her hair. She dressed in yesterday’s clothes and dried her hair quickly with the hotel’s blow dryer. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ayden was standing with his back to her. He’d dressed and stared out the window. His cell phone to his ear. Under his white shirt she saw the outline of his bulletproof vest and frowned. She didn’t like the idea of him being in danger.

“The roads have been cleared and salted, so we’ll be able to get on the road. It just depends what we find at the bank,” he said into the phone.

At the bank. Richard. For the last few hours, she’d felt so much like her old self—a vibrant, twenty-nine-year-old woman. And then the thought of Richard’s name made her feel a hundred again, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

Ayden hung up. He smiled and winked. “It’s going to be okay.”

In that moment the weight drifted from her shoulders and she felt as if she could do anything. She would get through this. She would survive. And life would be good again. “Let’s go.”

Charlotte worked on and off through the night on the doorjamb. Her side pinched each time she shoved her hand up and jammed the heel into the peg. Sometimes it was so painful she had to stop and rest. A couple of times she’d sat down and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Now, however, she was wide awake. She’d removed the middle and bottom hinges and now had only the top one to tackle.

She lifted her gnarled, scuffed shoe over her head and jabbed the heel under the peg. The upward motion made her grimace but she kept working. Slowly the peg started to budge.

“Come on, you son of a bitch. Move!”

Charlotte shoved with all she had and the spindle wriggled free of the latch and fell to the floor with a loud ping. She cast her shoe aside and yanked on the door handle. The lock remained fused but the other side opened several inches. It wasn’t enough for her to squeeze through.

Charlotte rested her head against the door and swallowed. “Please just get me out of here.” It was the closest she’d ever come to a prayer. Until now she’d never asked God for a favor because, well, she never figured he listened. “Please.”

She straightened her shoulders and pulled against the doorknob. This time the door opened more. It was a tight squeeze, but enough for her to get through.

Charlotte pressed through the opening, crying in pain when the hard wood grazed her wound. She tumbled out into her office onto the floor. She curled her fingers into fists. “Take that, you son of a bitch.”

She glanced up to her desk to the phone. Half pulling and half climbing up the side of her desk she laid her hand on the phone receiver and lifted it. The line was dead.

“Damn.”

She moved around behind her desk and dug her purse out of the bottom drawer. She burrowed her hand deep in the leather sack until she found her cell phone. She dialed 911 and waited for the operator.

“Nine-one-one. State your emergency.”

Charlotte had never been more grateful to hear another human being in her life.

Denny sat in the lobby drinking his eighth cup of coffee. He’d waited in the lobby an hour for Christina and when she’d not appeared he’d decided to put his time to use. He got his laptop from the trunk of his car, found a corner of the lobby and hooked up to the hotel’s WiFi service.

He searched the Internet for anything he could find about Christina Braxton, aka Nicole Piper. Her Web site showcased impressive pictures, and newspaper accounts detailed that she’d survived.

Too bad she had to die.

His mind drifted to Charlotte. He wondered how she’d fared last night. No doubt time alone coupled with her injury had subdued her. He smiled. He looked forward to doubling back to the law firm.

Denny turned his attention to Ayden. Ayden, it turned out, was a decorated cop who’d proven he was more than worth his salt. Not good. He’d have to be careful when he snatched Christina because he’d prefer not to tangle with Ayden.

Now as he sat in the lobby watching the guests checking out, he knew it was a matter of time before he saw Christina and finished this damn job that had taken far too long.

Ayden pulled open their hotel room door. “I’m sorry to say good-bye to the place.”

Nicole glanced back into the room at the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Me, too.”

“Maybe we should come back sometime.”

The offer hung in the air. She knew Ayden wanted so much more. And something inside her whispered again that the time had come to take a chance. “Sounds good.”

He grinned and pressed his hand into the small of her back. He guided her to the elevator and pressed the DOWN button.

His touch on her back was light, but the points of pressure sent shivers of delight down her back.

The doors dinged open, he kissed her on the lips, and they stepped inside the car. The doors closed behind them.

Ayden stood straight, not touching her but close so that she felt the energy radiating from his body. She missed touching him, missed the connection they’d shared in the room. She slid her hand into his and he gently squeezed it. He rubbed her palm with a calloused thumb.

“I love you,” he said.

Speechless, emotions swirled in her. She’d never heard anything so sweet and so frightening. She wanted to love him, but still feared the vulnerability and pain that came with it. She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the lips.

He stared at her as if trying to peer into her mind. “I don’t expect you to say anything back. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

“I want to be fair to you. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know.”

The doors to the elevator opened and they walked into the lobby and moved to registration so Ayden could check out.

The Christmas tree in the lobby winked and sparkled in the corner. As Ayden gave the clerk his information, she headed toward the tree. She loved this time of year and she loved looking at the different trees. She touched one of the teardrop glass balls hanging from a branch, mesmerized by the way the morning light hit it.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Nicole turned toward the unfamiliar male voice and smiled. The guy wore wire-rimmed glasses and had reddish hair. He looked nice enough, but instinct had her tensing and moving away. “Yes.”

The guy looked at her. “Do I know you?”

“No.” She glanced over at Ayden, who stood at the front desk. She couldn’t go running to him every time a man spoke to her. Still, maybe she’d wander over to the large fireplace. “Excuse me.”

He moved and blocked her path. “My name is Denny Smith.”

“Okay.”

“No, but I do know you, from California. You’re the photographer, Christina Braxton.”

Nicole’s stomach dropped. Her heart pounded in her chest. “No. I’m not Christina.”

“You sure? I’m a photography collector and I’m certain I bought some of your work in San Francisco.”

“My name is Nicole Piper.” She didn’t feel the least bit flattered. She felt as if the past were sucking her in again.

Ayden’s phone rang as he tucked the credit card slip in his wallet and slid it and his card into his pocket. He flipped open the phone. “Detective Ayden.”

“This is Charlotte Wellington.”

Her voice sounded fragile. It didn’t fit the image of the strong, cold woman he’d met yesterday. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a man. Dark hair wearing a T-shirt and biker jacket. Calls himself Denny. He’s looking for Nicole. He shot me.”

His senses went on full alert. “Shit. Where are you?”

“My office. I’ve called nine-one-one and they’re sending help, but you need to protect Nicole. This guy is dangerous and I think her husband sent him. Go find her. I’ll be fine.” She hung up.

Ayden’s gaze swung over the lobby. He spotted Nicole standing by the tree. A man was talking to her. Her back was to him and he couldn’t see her face. He didn’t fit Charlotte’s description but Ayden wouldn’t take a chance. Without hesitating, he unclipped the strap on his gun holster and started to move toward them. “Nicole.”

Just as he did, the man pulled out a gun and stuck it in Nicole’s side. She flinched and tried to move away. But the man yanked her against him. He dragged her toward a service exit.

In that moment, Ayden realized the man was going to kill Nicole.

Chapter Eight

Wednesday, December 24, 9:02 A.M.

Nicole struggled to free her arm as the stranger dragged her to a metal door. “Let go of me!”

Denny jabbed the barrel of the gun in her side. “Make a sound and I will kill your friend by the reception desk.”

A scream died in her throat as the service door slammed behind them. “What do you want?”

“Your husband sent me.”

Nicole jerked against his grip. “My husband is dead!”

“He hired me before he died. I’m kinda his insurance plan.” He fired at the lock and the bullet mangled the metal before bouncing off. Nicole cringed. Denny didn’t flinch as he pushed her down the tunnellike hallway that led toward stairs.

The air in the hallway quickly grew colder and she could smell the scent of garbage. They were headed to a back alley. She twisted free, lost her balance and pitched forward toward the stairs.

Denny grabbed her arm again, saving her from falling. “Careful, you could have broken your neck.”

If he’d meant to kill her quickly, he would have let her fall. If Richard had hired him then whatever he planned was going to be painful. This time she did scream.

The sound echoed in the hallway and Denny cursed. “Shut the hell up.”

Anger roiled inside her. “Drop dead.”

Ayden’s voice could be heard issuing orders from the other side. Frustrated, the man dragged her down the stairs at such a rapid pace she had to take the steps two at a time.

Behind them, she heard pounding on the door before it crashed open with such force it slammed against the wall.

Ayden. She screamed, “David!”

Denny glanced back but didn’t break stride. “He won’t get to us in time. I’ve got a car parked outside in the alley by the service entrance. Cooperate and that sweet baby of yours will grow up.”

Her heart leapt with grief and fear. “How do you know about her?”

“I discovered a whole lot about you and your boyfriend.” He shoved her toward a metal door. “Sounds like you’re getting your life back on track. Too bad.”

Denny reached for the door handle and twisted it. Outside she could hear the scrape of a snowplow and the honking of a horn.

If they got through this door, she’d be lost to her daughter and Ayden forever. Her heart hammering against her ribs, she reached down and grabbed the gun with her free hand. She twisted it away from him as she drove her foot into his shin and down on his foot. Pain drained the color from his face and for an instant he hesitated. “Goddamn, bitch. Let go.”

“Go to hell,” she hissed.

Denny grabbed her arm. He was stronger, but a fierce energy rolled through her as if she were possessed. She was not going to leave her child an orphan.

He wrestled the gun free from her and shoved her back against the metal door. Her head hit hard and for a second pain blurred everything.

He whirled her around so that she faced the door. “Now get your sweet ass outside.” She felt the jab of metal in her ribs.

Nicole righted and drove the back of her head into his nose. He screeched in pain and grabbed a handful of her hair. “I’m gonna enjoy taking you apart inch by inch.”

“Let her go.” Ayden’s command echoed from behind them.

The man jerked Nicole around so that the two of them faced Ayden. He pressed his gun to her temple.

“This is between Christina and me,” the man said easily. “Let us go, Detective.”

“No.”

The blood trickling from Denny’s nose made him sniff. “You’ve got two boys. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”

Nicole’s gaze locked on Ayden’s. He had the gun pointed right at them and there was steel in his eyes that she’d never seen before. It was a hard, cold look.

Claire. Lindsay. Now David. She’d brought such terror into so many lives.

“You’re not taking her,” Ayden said.

Denny pointed the tip of the gun barrel to Nicole’s head. “You can’t stop me.”

Even if Ayden fired, Denny could easily put a bullet in her brain. She couldn’t expect Ayden to save her alone. She jerked forward, trying to break his hold.

Denny’s iron hold didn’t budge. “Stop it.”

“Let her go,” Ayden said.

Denny shook his head. “Can’t do that. There’s a hell of a bonus waiting for me when I deliver her body to the right people.”

Ayden took a step toward them, the gun steady. “You’ve been seen. Too many people can identify you.”

The man laughed. “I can change my appearance in seconds. When I leave here I’ll be a different man in less than a minute.”

“You aren’t leaving here with her.”

“She’s not worth dying for. She’s not worth making those boys of yours orphans.”

Nicole screamed and yanked hard against the man’s grip. She managed to shift her weight slightly to the left. Ayden fired his gun. The bullet hit Denny in the shoulder and the impact knocked him off balance and into the door behind him. Blood splattered Nicole’s face.

Denny fired his gun. The deafening sound cut through her ears. The bullet struck Ayden in the chest. He dropped to his knees before he fell forward.

Nicole screamed as she watched Ayden hit the floor. Tears burning her eyes, she started shrieking and jabbed her elbow into Denny’s injured shoulder. He grimaced and the pain doubled him over.

She grabbed his gun and tried to wrench it free of his grasp. Pain had loosened his grip and the metal gun handle started to slip from his fingers. She nearly had it free when Denny grabbed her hair and jerked back her head. The force was so great she stumbled and fell to her backside.

Denny whirled on her and trained the gun tip right at her temple. He was going to fire. Rage and anger had wiped all reason from his eyes. He was going to kill her.

Seconds passed like days. She saw every detail in excruciating clarity. The blood on his shoulder. The beads of sweat on his forehead. The rapid rise and fall of his chest.

The deafening sound of gunshot exploded and echoed in the hallway. For a moment Nicole wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. And then a plume of blood blossomed on Denny’s shirt and he fell back against the wall. He slid down the wall, his eyes wide with shock and anger.

Nicole didn’t hesitate. She scrambled to her feet and yanked the gun from his hand. Clutching it tightly, she kept the gun trained on Denny as she backed up.

Ayden was standing now, his gun also on Denny. As they moved toward each other, she could see that his face was ashen with pain.

“You’re not dead,” she said. She nearly wept with joy.

“No.” He sounded as if he were in great pain.

“Your vest,” she said, remembering.

“Yeah.” He knelt beside Denny and checked for a pulse. “He’s dead.”

Denny lay on the floor. His eyes had glazed over and his shirt was stained crimson.

“Are you all right?” His voice sounded hard and abrupt.

“Yes.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“No. Just bruised.” There was no tenderness in his gaze. She wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her it was all going to be fine but he didn’t. He was all business.

Ayden flipped open his phone and called 911. He reported the facts to the dispatcher. He hung up. “The receptionist upstairs already called it in like I told her.”

She nodded as she stared down at Denny. “Richard sent him.”

“It was all a trap.”

“Yes.”

Neither he nor Nicole moved. She was stunned by the violence. Ayden was wired from the adrenaline.

The Alexandria cops opened the service entrance and entered, guns drawn. Half a dozen uniforms moved swiftly into the small area, first confirming that Denny was dead and then turning their attention to Ayden.

Ayden lowered his gun to the ground and raised his hands as he identified himself. Slowly he pulled out his ID.

Cold air from the alley swirled around Nicole. Her teeth chattered and she could barely breathe. Her hands trembled.

She was aware of someone asking if she was okay, aware of the cops questioning Ayden. She answered questions from the local police. Painstakingly, she recounted her story and Richard, her flight and his attempt to kill her.

She glanced toward Ayden as he spoke to the local cops. His head was bowed and his face grim as the other cops spoke to him. Then, as if he sensed her gaze on him, he looked up. His gaze softened and held hers. Seeing the hole in his shirt made by Denny’s bullet triggered a replay of the morning’s terrifying events. She tried to offer a quivering smile but in the end had to look away.

Richard had reached out from the grave and smashed her life. She wondered how many other traps he’d set for her. How many other killers were out there waiting to finish what Richard couldn’t? What would Ayden do the next time something like this happened? Would he have to kill for her again?

God, death had stalked her since she’d met Richard. She would never escape it.

“I’d like to take you to the hospital.” The ambulance attendant’s voice cut through the haze in her brain.

“What? No. No hospitals. I want to go home.”

“You’re pretty banged up. The doctors need to check you over.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want to go home. I want to see my daughter.”

The guy had kind eyes. “You can’t drive.”

“I have a ride.”

She’d come with Ayden. He would have to drive her home. He was a good man. He’d take care of her. But was it fair to let him? Was it fair to care for him, knowing that Richard may have set other traps for her?

The energy around her shifted, felt more tense, and she looked up. Ayden was standing before her. He had removed the vest but the bullet had left a gaping tear in the shirt underneath.

He knelt in front of her. “How are you?”

Nicole lifted her chin. “I’m good. I’m good.”

“We can leave now.”

Leave. It was magic to her. “I want to see Beth. I want to hold her.”

Ayden kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

The safety deposit box had a note in it. It was written in Richard’s handwriting and addressed to Christina. It read: Christina, I love you so very much. No one can love you like I do. We will be together forever. Your loving husband, Richard.

Nicole’s hands trembled as she balled the note into a tight wad.

Ayden laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not true. You are free of him.”

She nodded. “God, I want to believe that.”

“Believe it.”

But as she glanced at the bloodstains on her shirt, she couldn’t summon his confidence.

The two-hour drive home was tense and quiet and Ayden was aware that Nicole was still wound tight. She had every reason to be. To think her ex would have sent someone like Denny to kill her eighteen months after his death.

Ayden had tried to discuss what had happened a couple of times but she’d not wanted to talk. She was withdrawing back into herself and it scared the hell out of him.

The woman he’d made love to last night had been alive and vibrant. This woman was scared and sullen. And she was shrinking away from him.

They pulled up in front of Lindsay’s house and Nicole was out the door before he could come around to her side of the car. She hurried to the front steps and rang the bell.

Ayden caught up to her. “You don’t have to rush. Beth is okay. We’ve both spoken with Lindsay.”

Nicole tapped a nervous hand on her thigh. “I know. But I’ve got to see her.”

He’d learned long ago never to get between a mother and her child. The bond was too powerful and strong.

Lindsay snapped open her door, took one look at Nicole, and immediately wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry.”

Nicole offered a wan smile. “I’m okay.”

But her tense tone said otherwise and Lindsay picked up on it immediately. “Come in and see your baby.”

Nicole moved into the house. “Thank you.”

Lindsay and her husband, Zack, had renovated the whole place. The front room was decorated in a mismatched collection of furniture that Lindsay had collected at flea markets and antique stores. The pieces shouldn’t have worked together but they did. The casual relaxed style was very inviting.

Zack came out of the kitchen. His tall body and broad shoulders filled the doorframe. Short black hair accentuated rawboned features. He had the lean body of an athlete. In his big arms Beth looked so small and helpless despite the wide grin on her face. She was gurgling and grabbing at Zack’s ear. But the instant the child saw Nicole she pouted and started to whimper.

Nicole went to her immediately. “Oh, baby girl.”

Zack looked confused. “I swear she was fine while you were gone. She and Jack were best buds.”

Nicole buried her face in the little girl’s curls, inhaling the scent of baby soap and milk. Beth calmed immediately when Nicole kissed her on the forehead. “Hey, sweet girl.”

“Why don’t you two come into the kitchen for a cup of coffee?” Lindsay offered.

Ayden wanted that. He wanted to sit down with Nicole and get her around friends. He wanted to see her nerves calm and he wanted to see the light return to her eyes.

“I’m taking Beth home. Thanks, Lindsay, but I just need some quiet.”

Ayden glanced at Lindsay and Zack’s worried expressions. “Your car is still at the station.”

“I brought it back,” Zack said. He went to retrieve the spare key Nicole always left with Lindsay.

Nicole smiled. “Thank you.”

“Nicole, don’t go home now. You need to be around friends,” Lindsay said.

“Honestly, I will be fine.” A part of her worried that they were all in danger just by her very presence.

“I’ll follow you home.” Ayden’s voice was hard, unwavering.

“A good idea,” Lindsay said.

“I’m fine,” Nicole said.

Ayden was aware that Lindsay and Zack watched them closely. Lindsay’s gaze sharpened as she stared at the two and it seemed in seconds she’d guessed something more had happened in D.C. So be it. Hell, he wanted them and everyone else to know that Nicole was his.

He loved her. He wanted her in his life forever.

“I’m following you home,” Ayden said again.

Nicole glanced at Ayden, realizing if she wanted to go home it would have to be his way. “Okay.”

With Beth balanced in her arms, Nicole dug her keys out of her purse. The paramedics had washed the blood from her face and hands but the would-be killer’s blood still stained her shirt. He had no doubt her arms would be bruised.

Just the thought of Denny sent anger shuttering through his body. He half wished the guy was still alive so that he could kill him again.

Nicole loaded Beth in her car seat, kissed both Lindsay and Zack, and thanked them before slipping behind the wheel of her car. Ayden got into his car. He followed her home.

Nicole lived on the second floor of a historic building in the city’s historic district. Called The Fan by locals, the area was home to young couples and artists. He didn’t like her living here. The crime stats were too high for his comfort. A woman alone and her baby … it just wasn’t safe.

“Let me come up with you. I can stay until you get the baby settled,” he said.

Sadness had drained the life from her. “That’s okay. Really. I’m fine.”

He studied her. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Shutting me out. Let me help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

She shook her head as she glanced at Beth’s smiling face. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Don’t shut me out.”

“It might be better that way.”

“Why the hell would you say that?”

“I thought I was free of Richard, but I’m starting to believe that I will never be free of him. He’s managed to taint what we had. What if there is another Denny out there waiting? What if he hurts you or your sons?”

“Don’t borrow trouble.”

“I don’t want to. But I can’t ignore it.”

He rattled the change in his pocket. Yesterday, they had been so close. He truly had felt that nothing would ever come between them again. And now here they stood, a sheet of glass between them. They might as well have been a thousand miles apart.

“I want us to be together, Nicole. We can move past this.”

Tears welled in her eyes. He saw genuine hurt and confusion and it nearly broke him. “You deserve someone who doesn’t have so much baggage.”

“Hell, I’ve got enough of my own damn baggage. And whatever is eating you is affecting us both. It’s our problem.” He softened his voice. “Let me help you.”

She stepped back into her apartment. “You can’t. I’ve got to do this.”

Ayden wasn’t going to beg. Some problems had to be worked out alone. But it was killing him to see her pull away. She smiled sadly and softly closed her door.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and fisted it. It was all falling apart and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Chapter Nine

Thursday, December 25, 8:00 A.M.

Nicole tossed and turned all night.

Several times nightmares woke her up. You are mine forever. Richard’s words reached out from the past and there were moments she could almost imagine his hot breath on her face.

At one A. M. she had sat up in bed soaked in sweat and fear. She was certain she heard footsteps several times. She ran to her front door and checked the locks. She also peeked in on the baby, who slept peacefully in her crib.

She and Beth were safe.

And yet the fear clung to her like a wraith.

At dawn, she had swung her legs over the side of the bed and gave up on sleep. Checking Beth again, she padded into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. As the pot dripped and spit she glanced at her hands. They were clean now but the memory of the would-be killer’s blood was sharp and clear.

She’d been so excited about this Christmas. This Christmas was to be her new beginning. Her fresh start. And Richard had found a way to ruin it all.

Nicole pushed away from the counter and her untouched coffee and walked into her tiny living room. She stared at her tree, now a reminder of her own foolishness.

Her cell phone rang and automatically Nicole started. She picked it up from the kitchen counter and checked the number. Lindsay.

Nicole cleared her throat hoping her emotions wouldn’t reflect in her voice. She flipped open the phone. “Lindsay.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Nicole made herself smile. She would not let her mood poison Lindsay’s Christmas. “Merry Christmas to you.”

“Is Beth up?”

“Not yet. I think you wore her out.”

“It wasn’t me; it was Jacob and Kendall.” Jacob was Zack’s partner and Kendall his wife. “Jacob tossed the kid around like a sack of potatoes—all of which she loved.”

A faint smile tipped the edge of her lips. “I noticed Kendall painted Beth’s toenails again.”

“Sinful Ruby Red. It’s Kendall’s new favorite color. She said every girl should be glamorous at Christmas.”

Kendall was always dressed to the nines. Nicole glanced at her own plain short nails. “Kendall’s going to get my girl hooked on manicures and pedicures.”

“She has a stunning outfit to give Beth at the party tonight. So cute.”

The thought of the party did not excite her. “Beth is going to be spoiled rotten.” Despite her efforts to sound happy, sadness leaked into the words.

Lindsay picked up on it immediately. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” The lie tripped off her tongue as automatically as it had in the days she’d been married to Richard.

“Bull. You sound like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

Lindsay’s perceptive mind missed little. “I’m fine. Just trying to get my feet back on the ground since yesterday.”

“Don’t let him do this to you. It’s what he would have wanted.” Her voice cracked.

She straightened. “Lindsay, don’t let this get to you. It’s not your fault.”

“The bastard managed to reach out from the grave and ruin your Christmas. I blame myself for giving you that stupid letter.”

“This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing. Richard was a clever man.” Tears filled her eyes and she had to tip her head back to keep them from spilling.

Lindsay sniffed and Nicole pictured her friend swiping away a tear. “Ayden filled Zack in on the details. Richard tried to kill you.”

“But he didn’t.” She’d been unable to boost her own spirits, yet here she was trying to cheer Lindsay up.

“When I think of all you’ve been through…”

“And I’m still standing.” She couldn’t bear the sadness in Lindsay’s voice.

“That’s right, you are still standing.” The steel was returning to Lindsay’s voice.

“It’s all good.” She didn’t believe that but wanted Lindsay to.

Lindsay changed tactics. “Something happened between you and Ayden.”

Nicole didn’t speak, not trusting her own voice.

“I was right!” There was no missing the triumph in her voice. “Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nicole, I am not going to let you give up on David.”

“Lindsay, let it go.”

“You weren’t like this in college.”

She didn’t want to ask but did. “Like what?”

“Closed off. You were so open and expressive. Richard taught you to bury your pain and retreat. He taught you how to be afraid.”

That made her angry. “I am not afraid for myself. But I am afraid for the people in my life. I can’t put them in more danger.”

“We can all take care of ourselves.”

“That’s what Claire said.”

“Stop doing this!”

Nicole could picture Lindsay’s green eyes blazing. “God, Lindsay, would you just let me deal with this on my own?”

“Nicole, I can’t let anything go. Just ask my husband.”

The hint of humor in Lindsay’s voice cut through some of her dark mood.

“Ayden is a good guy. And I could tell by the way he looked at you last night that he is crazy about you.”

Her heart constricted and this time the emotion erupted to the surface. The image of Ayden’s face when he dropped her off last night flashed in her mind. His features were stony and hard but she’d sensed the unbearable sadness in him. Guilt ate at her. “Lindsay, please stop.”

“No, I will not, Nicole. You have a chance to reclaim your life fully. Not just career-wise and mother-wise but romantically with a great guy.”

More images flashed. This time she saw Denny shoot Ayden in the chest. “David could have been killed.” A sob caught in her throat. It was hard to say the words out loud because it made her feel like such a coward. “I’m afraid to love him.”

“Don’t be.” She softened her voice. “Love makes life so worth it all.”

Nicole didn’t speak.

“Stop hiding out in your apartment and rejoin life.” Her voice had grown gentle again. “If you don’t take a chance and try to love Ayden, Richard will have won.”

That last statement infuriated Nicole.

Beth started to fuss in her crib. “Beth is awake. I’ve got to go.”

“Will I see you at the party tonight?”

“I’ll think about what you said.”

“Don’t think. Do.” Lindsay hung up.

Beth’s wails grew louder and Nicole went to her. The baby was standing in her crib gripping the side rails. When Nicole’s gaze met hers, she cried louder and started to jump up and down.

Smiling, Nicole picked up the child and held her close. “It’s okay.”

Almost immediately Beth stopped crying and grinned. She grabbed a chunk of Nicole’s hair with her chubby hand.

The weight of the baby’s diaper felt heavy in her hands. “Your diaper is about to explode.”

The baby tossed her a sloppy grin that held no hint of apology.

Nicole laughed and took the baby to the changing table. She laid her down and unsnapped her one-piece sleeper. As she pulled the little feet off, her gaze was drawn to the bright red nail polish that Kendall had put on Beth’s toes.

The splash of color had her smiling. “Your aunt Kendall is going to turn you into a diva after all.”

The baby kicked and laughed. Nicole removed the soggy diaper and cleaned the baby up. Within ten minutes the baby was dressed in a clean outfit and laying in Nicole’s arms. Nicole steadied a bottle in the baby’s mouth and the child greedily slurped.

With Beth in her arms, the stresses and worries of last night faded. As long as she had Beth, she would always be at peace and she would know the love of her child.

But what of the passion she’d shared with Ayden? He’d revived a part of herself that she’d thought dead. Lost forever. He was offering a full life to her. One filled with her child’s love as well as passion.

Lindsay’s words replayed in her head. Don’t let Richard win.

Ayden sat in his house in the family room, staring at the tree he and his boys had decorated. The job was a sloppy mess at best. The lights were uneven, none of them had bothered to put ornaments on the back of the tree, and the tinsel clung to branches in thick clumps. Julie would have been appalled.

Ayden rose and walked to the collection of pictures on his mantel. Julie had seen to it that the boys had had their picture taken on Santa’s lap every year. Often he’d been working and been unable to help her with the boys but she’d steadfastly gone each year.

Last year when he’d stood here and stared at the pictures he’d wished so hard for his old life back. He wanted what he’d had so much he could taste it.

Now, as he looked at the pictures, he knew the past was dead and buried. No amount of wishing was going to bring it back. And for the first time, he didn’t want to look back but forward. His thoughts turned to Nicole.

She had her whole life ahead of her. She had so much in life that she could embrace. But she was trapped by her past. He knew from personal experience that no amount of talking or begging was going to make her look forward. Lord only knew how much his friends and family had lectured him about letting go. About moving on.

And now he was ready to move forward and the woman he loved couldn’t.

As much as he wanted to march over to Nicole’s house and push, cajole, and persuade her to embrace life, he knew it would be for naught. She had to want it. And the sad truth now was that she didn’t.

It was Christmas Day. The boys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. He had no desire to go to the Kiers’ open house after his shift.

He sipped his coffee. It had grown cold and bitter.

“Shit.”

He reached for his coat, determined to head to the office and bury himself in work. The doorbell rang. Irritated by the intrusion, he set the cup down and moved toward the door. He snapped it open, ready to send whoever it was away.

To his shock, it was Nicole.

Nicole had never been as nervous as she was right now. Embracing life had never been so frightening but she knew if she didn’t go for it now, Richard would have won and she’d always regret it.

“Nicole, what are you doing here?” Ayden’s face was a stone mask and revealed no hint of emotion.

That didn’t help. She’d hoped he’d see her and take her into his arms and tell her that he loved her. Instead, he stood rigid, his hands fisted at his sides as if he were bracing himself.

“I came to see you,” she said.

“Where’s the baby? Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Yes. She’s fine and with Kendall.”

Nicole felt like she could jump out of her skin. Good Lord, where was the brave, fearless woman who used to camp alone in the mountains? “Can I come in?”

“Why?” His tone was cool, distant.

Nicole hadn’t expected this. She’d expected him to welcome her with open arms. Refusing to retreat, she held up a neatly wrapped box. “I have a Christmas gift for you.”

That seemed to darken his mood. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” She kept her smile bright. “Can I come in?”

He stepped aside. “Sure.”

Ayden closed the door softly behind her. Her gaze went to the tree. It was a disaster and yet it was wonderful. “I love the tree.”

His look was openly skeptical. “Why?”

Despite all the hits this family had taken, they’d taken the time to put up a tree. “It is a signal of hope and life. And it’s a pure reflection of your boys and you.”

Silent, he glanced at the tree as if seeing it with fresh eyes.

Fearing that her emotions would turn her into a blithering coward, she handed him the box. “Here.”

He took the package but made no move to open it. “Thanks.”

“Open it.”

“Nicole, what’s this all about?”

“Open it.” She’d resolved when she’d started this trek that there was no going back.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes. He tore at the paper as if he wanted the accursed gift open so that he could acknowledge it, and then, as quickly as possible, send her away.

As the paper ripped, he found himself staring at a cereal box. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I already ate breakfast.”

“Oh, don’t look at the box.” She laughed. “It was the only box I had that the gift fit in. Open the box.”

She’d taped the box securely and it took him a few frustrated seconds to peel the layers of tape off so that the lid opened. He reached inside and pulled out a flat square object nested in tissue paper.

Nervous anticipation bubbled inside of her as she watched him toss the cereal box aside and with long, lean fingers rip the tissue paper from her present. It was a framed picture, only he was staring at the back of it.

“Turn it over.”

He hesitated, sighed, and complied. It was a picture of Nicole and Ayden taken at Beth’s christening. Nicole held Beth and Ayden’s boys flanked them.

“Lindsay took the picture with my camera. I would have set the whole shot up differently. And I would have coaxed a fuller smile out of Zane. And the frame and mat were all I had on hand this morning. The colors are all wrong for that picture.”

Ayden closed his eyes. “Why are you giving me this?”

She nibbled her lip. “That’s the day I told you I couldn’t see you anymore.”

He stared at her with an intensity that made her skin itch. But he did not say a word.

“I was still reeling with a lot of emotions then and I wasn’t whole enough to care for anyone other than Beth at the time. But I’m different now.”

Ayden still didn’t speak. And a muscle in his jaw started to pulse as if the hold on his patience was slipping.

God, she felt like a fool. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“No.”

“Right.” He wasn’t going to make this easy. It had to come from her. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her worn jeans and then pulled them out. “This year was about healing for me. Getting my feet back on the ground. And I did a good job of that.”

He continued to stare but his jaw had relaxed a fraction.

“And then that damn letter arrived and I felt myself sliding backwards. It was as if the last eighteen months had never happened. I felt like a wreck all over again.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Just hearing him speak gave her the courage to keep talking. It wasn’t so much his words that she heard but the tone of his voice. This tone wasn’t exactly ecstatic but the anger had faded.

“After what happened in that hotel hallway … well, I just felt even more like I was back at square one. I was just so damn afraid.”

“Of me?” Bitterness coated the words.

“No. I was afraid of opening my heart again and then watching Richard destroy another person I cared for.”

He set the picture down. “What’s your point?”

“I’m trying to fix this and I’m just making a mess of everything.”

“You’re trying to fix our friendship? Our affair?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean no. I’m trying to fix us. I’m trying to tell you that I love you. And that even though I may seem like a coward at times I am doing my level best to tell you that I do have a backbone and that I can stand up for what I want. I want you—”

He closed the gap between them in an instant, cupped her face with his hands, and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was hard and searing and so full of emotion she forgot the entire speech she’d practiced on the way over here. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her. He banded his arms around her waist and held her so close she could feel the beat of his heart against her chest.

Finally, the kiss ended but they remained entwined in each other’s arms. “I love you, David Ayden.”

He traced her jawline with a calloused finger. “I love you too, Nicole. And I will take you on whatever terms you have.”

“Actually, I came here to make an honest man of you, if you’ll have me.”

A grin tipped the edge of his mouth. “An honest man?”

“Well, it seems like the honorable thing to do.”

“I wasn’t expecting marriage.”

Her heart sank a little. “So you don’t want to get married?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do want marriage?”

He kissed her on the lips. “I’m saying I don’t want it if you don’t. Life isn’t quite so black and white when I’m with you.”

She nibbled her lip. “That’s the thing. I do want it. Despite all the past …stuff…I believe in marriage. I believe in us being married.” His eyes filled with so many emotions she couldn’t begin to name any of them. “I’m making a mess of this.”

“You’re doing just fine.” He pulled away from her and crossed the room to a desk in the corner. He opened a drawer, pulled out a small box, and returned to her. “I’ve had this since April. I saw it days before the christening and thought it was perfect for you. I hoped one day to give it to you.”

Tears filled her eyes. Good God, he’d bought her an engagement ring days before she’d shot him down. “I’m so sorry.”

He brushed her tears away with his thumb. “Don’t be sorry. You were being honest. You weren’t ready. I wasn’t crazy about what you’d said that day but I understood.”

He cracked open the box to reveal a stunning ring. It wasn’t a traditional solitaire diamond but a gold band embedded with a string of small diamonds. She stared at it amazed. It was perfect.

“I thought about a big single diamond, but I figured that just wasn’t you. When I saw this ring, it just seemed to suit who you were.”

Tears streamed down her face.

“If you don’t like it…”

“I love it. You know me better than I know myself.”

He pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on her ring finger. “Will you marry me, Nicole?”

More tears followed. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

They made it to the Kiers’ party that night. But they were late.

ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

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Copyright © 2008 by Kensington Publishing Corp.
“Christmas Past” copyright © 2008 by Mary Burton

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ISBN: 1-4201-0757-7