Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2) Read online

  Turning to face her, he absorbed every detail of the dress she wore, replacing the horrific images of Alex that were still haunting him. She was so incredibly sexy. Just as breathtakingly beautiful as he remembered, leaving him as captivated as the first time he’d seen her. More so, if that were possible. Again, he longed for the right to lift her in his arms, back her against the glass and bury himself inside her.

  You’re too late.

  Jesus, he hoped that was another one of her lies.

  “Don’t,” Kat whispered when he stepped closer. There wasn’t much force behind the word, more of a desperate plea. She shivered as if he’d touched her, the desire in her eyes impossible to miss, the throbbing of her pulse in her neck giving her away.

  “Don’t what? Look at you?” he asked, letting her hear the slight laugh in his voice, sounding foreign to his own ears because it had been so damn long. “Isn’t that the point of your dress?”

  “Don’t,” she warned again, stumbling a little in her haste as she backed up. Or drunkenness, he thought. He hadn’t realized he’d lifted his hand, reaching for her, couldn’t tell whether she was relieved or disappointed when his hand stopped in midair, just before he would’ve touched the exposed skin of her neck. And how easy it would have been for him to move his hand down from there, slip it under her dress to cover her breast. Even though he dropped his hand, it didn’t stop him from taking in the rest of her body, his gaze soon lingering on her stomach. A mistake, he realized a second too late.

  “I told you I wasn’t,” she snapped.

  When their gazes met, Stephen could only hope his expression was unreadable, none of his turmoil evident. “Yeah, I know.” But he’d hoped. Hell, he’d prayed she was pregnant, tying them together. And then had immediately felt guilty. She was still so young, eleven years separating them. She had a life she was just beginning to live. And his life…a living hell was the best way to describe it. And it was about to get so much worse.

  “Nice threat by the way,” she hissed, throwing every ounce of venom she could muster in those few words, though he refused to rise to the bait.

  She was referring to the voicemail he’d left. The one that went something like: “Goddammit, Kat, you have fifteen fucking minutes to answer me or I will hunt your ass down and make you pee on that fucking stick right in front of me!”

  Admittedly, not his finest moment.

  Ten minutes later, she’d sent a text.

  Test is negative.

  And he’d very nearly wanted to drown in despair. He’d held the phone, staring at the words, knowing they were better off, yet wanting a child that didn’t exist with an intensity that had shocked him. It was a long five minutes before he’d been able to respond.

  Truth, Kat?

  Truth, Stephen.

  And with those words, he’d wondered if he’d ever see her again. Ever hold her again. Ever feel like he had the right to go after her when he got his life back together.

  “Three days, Kat. It took you three days and countless phone calls to respond,” Stephen said, his voice amazingly calm, none of the fury in his voice that he’d felt then.

  “I was too scared to take the test.”

  Her admission surprised him. Kat never gave up anything unless it was tortured out of her. She shouldn’t have had to go through that alone, not without him reassuring her that everything would be okay, one way or another.

  All those weeks ago, he’d done what he thought was right, what was best for her. But the doubt creeping in told him he may have been so very wrong, especially when she crossed her arms around herself, seeming so lost and alone. “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t call me that.” Apparently, the moment was over. “Just tell me why you’re here.”

  So he did, hating that he had to tell her this. “The story is about to break.”

  ***

  Kat sucked in a breath, closing her eyes. Which only made her head spin. Too much alcohol, not enough sleep. Seeing Stephen again when she’d never really expected to. Along with the bomb he’d just dropped. Kat leaned against the counter, wondering if she’d ever be free of this nightmare that had taken up far too much of her life? “Let me guess. Emma Anderson.”

  Stephen’s terse nod confirmed her suspicions. The woman he wanted to kill. She couldn’t say she blamed him.

  She’d known the story would break. And soon. She’d been dodging Emma’s phone calls for weeks now. But she wasn’t yet prepared to deal with the fallout. With being hounded by the press, evading questions she didn’t want to answer. Having to relive everything when she was still trying to bury it herself. Last time she’d been pursued by the press, Ethan had changed her name. She’d been able to disappear into anonymity.

  This time she wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Sneaking another glance at Stephen, she felt a heartbreaking sadness that it all came down to this. Whatever negative side effects this would have on her life, it would affect his much, much worse. Possibly destroy it. The tension emanating from him was thick, the silence pressing in on her after the noise from the nightclub.

  Guilt slammed down on her with the force of a tsunami. She’d started these chains of events, never imagining the repercussions of her actions would be this wide. This strong and proud man she’d been half in love with, destroyed.

  God, how he must hate her.

  “I didn’t want you caught off guard.”

  She tore her gaze from the wall. Stephen’s piercing blue eyes seeming to glow in the dark as they pinned her with laser-like focus. She wanted to ask him where the hell he was six weeks ago if he was so worried, when he shoved her into another man’s arms and walked away. But she was too upset, too exhausted. Emotions raged inside her…too many words to describe them. Regret. Pain. Anger.

  But it was easier to hang on to the anger than to feel the pain.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Like hell you will, sweetheart.”

  The words, spoken softly, had her gut twisting. She wanted to yell at him to not call her that again, but that would let him know how much she still hurt, how much heartbreak she still felt even as she tried to tell herself it was anger. But she knew the truth. Losing him gutted her, had shattered what was left of her heart. He went on about her lies, but Stephen, well he’d told the worst lie there was, didn’t he?

  We’ll work this out…

  “We should talk.”

  No way in hell. “You should go.” She turned from the counter, glanced briefly at Stephen as she scooted closer to the hall, toward her bedroom, needing to escape. Then she ran, closing the door softly behind her before going into her miniscule bathroom, sucking in deep gulps of air, praying he’d be gone by the time she came out.

  No such luck.

  Stephen stood in the middle of her bedroom as if had every right to be there. And as much as she tried, she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the bed, imagining all sorts of things she shouldn’t be imagining. Because she knew what that led to, didn’t she?

  A broken heart.

  A weekend fling that would still be haunting her dreams weeks later.

  As if reading her thoughts, she felt Stephen’s body going on alert. And that quickly, the atmosphere changed, as if all the air had been sucked out of the apartment, leaving only tension and awareness in its wake.

  “Look at me, Kat.”

  She didn’t dare. She knew what she’d see, knew she’d be powerless against it. Crazy that she could feel this way considering everything. The rough command in his voice wrapped around her, his need as obvious to her as her own. She was afraid to move, even to take a breath, fear that he’d pounce freezing her in place. This hold he had over her, the deep, all-consuming sexual pull between them, undiminished even as she told herself she hated him.

  A lie.

  Her body still craved his with an intensity that shocked her. It pissed her off. Or would have if she wasn’t strung so tight, if her body wasn’t suddenly aching for him, vibrating with need s
o powerful in its intensity, overwhelming in its completeness.

  It was the alcohol, she told herself.

  “I don’t know if the story Emma’s about to run exposes Alex’s identity.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered, sucking in a breath as she glanced at him. Nausea hit her full force, replacing her desire with the need to comfort as she finally understood the hell he was going through tonight, the barely controlled rage that emanated from him at the club. He sat on the edge of her bed, his head in his hands, looking just as tortured as she felt. Fighting the urge to go to him, wrap her arms around his body, she said, “Please don’t tell me he’s still undercover.”

  She’d done the right thing, she told herself. Had cleared her father of murdering her mother. And learning the truth gave her peace. Or should have. Yet, she’d never felt as alone as she did in that moment, a reminder of everything she’d lost.

  Stephen met her gaze, but didn’t give her the answer she’d hoped to hear. “He is.”

  “But he was here,” she blurted.

  “When?” Stephen asked, the urgency in his tone impossible to miss.

  “After the funeral.”

  And she could see by the look on his face that that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear either. “What’s going on, Stephen?” she asked carefully, walking closer to him, dread forming in the pit of her stomach. “You haven’t talked to him?”

  He didn’t answer her, instead asked, “What did he want? When he came to see you?”

  “Alex was…” Devastated. A ball of rage and anger so powerful he’d been unable to hide it. He’d wanted to know what happened, every tiny little detail and the guilt that Kat had felt exploded in an instant and she’d fully begun to understand why Stephen had walked away. She’d ruined them all. Their family, their integrity…

  “Just to talk.”

  “About?”

  She stifled her sigh. “Everything.”

  Stephen seemed to accept that with a nod. “Do you know where he went after?”

  “He was gone when I woke up the next morning.”

  Silence. Not that it had been particularly loud. “It wasn’t like that,” she hissed. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? “When was the last time you talked to him?”

  “Since before then.”

  And Kat knew instantly it had been since the night his grandfather—the judge—had tried to kill her. And her heart broke all over again for Stephen, knowing how close him and Alex were. She’d had an inkling the night Alex had shown up, but she’d thought for sure he’d be with his family by now.

  What other damage had she caused? Or would she cause? Alex was still undercover and now that cover was about to be blown. If he didn’t survive…

  Don’t go there.

  But it was too late. She already had.

  “Did you to talk to his captain? Are they getting him out?” The words sounded hollow, as if uttered from a distance instead of from her own lips. Her hands started to shake and there was nothing in front her to hold onto. Or to hide it.

  “They can’t find him.”

  Stephen’s words seemed to come from as far away, echoing in her head. She thought she whispered, “Oh God,” but wasn’t sure if the words ever made it past her lips.

  Chapter Four

  Kat was sprawled on top of him when Stephen woke, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other resting against his chest, under her head. He breathed in her scent, too afraid to open his eyes, his dream disappearing in a puff of smoke. The feel of her skin against his had heat spiraling through him, his erection straining against his jeans. Finally, he opened his eyes, relieved when she didn’t disappear, a small sliver of peace in the hell that had become his life.

  He reached for his phone on the nightstand, hoping against hope there’d be word of Alex. Nothing. Jesus, how long could it fucking take to find one agent? Unless that agent didn’t want to be found…

  He shoved away the pain that thought caused, even as he wondered if he’d ever see his brother again. Kat moved slightly, her hair tickling his chin and he pulled her closer, seeking comfort as the light gray of dawn filled her bedroom. Only a couple hours had elapsed since he’d caught her just before she’d passed out, though he felt like he’d been asleep for days. He couldn’t wait any longer, didn’t want to live through it anymore.

  Not without her.

  He’d been in the process of making a change, getting ready to go after her, four interviews over the past two weeks, doing his damnedest to secure another position one-hundred and fifty miles from home, bringing him closer to Kat.

  Hope, finally. He’d been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now the tunnel was black, the light not just extinguished, but destroyed. Keeping his own position without a fight would be hard enough. Finding another?

  Nearly impossible.

  Kat snuggled closer, her defenses against him disappearing when she slept. They always had, from the first time he’d ever slept in her bed. It was truly the only time she ever trusted him.

  Not true, he thought. She’d trusted him just before she’d been kidnapped. For a few blissful hours before everything went to shit and unfortunately, he couldn’t repress the memories. The look of horror on her face. Ethan nearly ripping Kat from his arms. Kat clinging to Ethan, holding on for dear life.

  Stephen closed his eyes again, the moment he lost her was akin to a knife piercing his heart. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent, the scent he swore he could still smell in his bedroom. An overactive imagination, he knew. Or wishful thinking, perhaps. But damn, she felt perfect in his arms. And he wondered if he had any chance in hell of keeping her there. For all Ethan’s threats, he obviously hadn’t taken steps to make Kat his.

  Unless she’d said no?

  Was it too much to hope? Stephen tightened his arms around her again, as if sheer will alone would keep her where she belonged. She stirred then, her hand slowly sliding up his chest until her fingers tangled in his hair. He couldn’t hold back the groan from escaping his lips as she mumbled his name.

  Unfortunately. Kat’s entire body stiffened. Instantly she was a frantic tangle of arms and legs as she fought to escape him. Stephen sighed and let her go, missing the feel of her body before she was fully out of his arms. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she stood, struggling to simultaneously tug down her dress and close the V. Or tried to.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.” He was able to keep the laughter out of voice, but even he could hear the gruffness and longing. It didn’t have the intended effect. She scrambled further away, halted by the chair behind her. Stephen shot his hand out, catching her wrist just before she fell. Still, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Without relinquishing his hold, he stood, cradling her cheek with his other hand, gently pulling her closer.

  “Let me go.”

  Never, he thought, even as he let his hand fall to his side. Kat stepped back, slower this time so she wouldn’t fall. And damn it, she still wouldn’t look at him.

  Her doorknob turned, Stephen’s entire body going on full alert. He reached for his gun on the nightstand, immediately grabbing Kat and shoving her behind him.

  Ethan.

  Walking into her bedroom as if he had every right to be there. His gaze instantly locked on Stephen’s, his entire body going rigid. Ethan’s shock was obvious, quickly overtaken by a hate so pure and all-consuming, Stephen couldn’t help but be a little surprised. They still worked together. Far from friends, but they’d maintained a professional civility over the past few weeks. Apparently finding him in Kat’s bedroom pushed Ethan past his breaking point.

  Not that Stephen cared. Instead he wanted to roar with frustration. He’d wanted, no needed, more time with her. Needed to clean up the mess he’d made with her last night, clear the air between them. See if there was still anything between them, something they could build on, despite the fact he had nothing to offer.

  “Here to finish the job your grandfather started?” Ethan sneered.
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  “Ethan!” Kat hissed. “That was uncalled for—”

  “Like hell it was!” Ethan returned, his full attention on Kat now, his body nearly shaking with the force of his anger. “Do you need a recap of how many times his family has put you in danger? How many times they’ve tried to kill you?”

  Unfortunately, Stephen couldn’t deny the truth of Ethan’s cruelly fired comment. Guilt over what his family had done still tore him apart, undiminished during the past six weeks. Kat’s face paled before turning red with anger. “And do you need a reminder that Stephen was the one who pulled me from that fire seconds before I would have been burned alive? Jesus, Ethan, how can you be so heartless?”

  “Heartless? I’m being heartless? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he roared, rage and fury dripping with every word.

  “Enough!” Stephen intervened, stepping between Ethan and Kat, a position he never dreamed he’d be in. “Take it down a notch, Ethan. Her grandmother is asleep in the next room.”

  “Another victim of your honorable grandfather,” Ethan spat. “Should we take count?”

  “Enough, Ethan.” Kat stepped around Stephen, her voice harder than he’d ever heard it before. She pushed against his chest, forcing him out of her bedroom as she followed. “If you can’t be civil, you’ll need to leave.”

  But Ethan wasn’t done. As soon as they were in the kitchen, Ethan whipped around. “After everything this man has done, I can’t believe you’re defending him!”

  “I haven’t done anything.” Stephen stepped in front of Ethan again, his hope of being able to diffuse the situation rapidly deteriorating. But he’d show no weakness in front of Ethan. He also refused to lower himself to Ethan’s level, hurting Kat in the process.

  “Bullshit! You very nearly destroyed her! Where the hell have you been for the past six weeks? When she woke up screaming in the middle of the night? When she was crying out for—”

  “Damn it, Ethan!” Kat yelled, louder this time as she grabbed his arm, demanding his attention. “I could ask you the same thing, so knock it off.”