Page 2 of Deceit & Desire

An off-duty deputy? It took me a little longer to spot him than the suits, but also check. The deputy was trying so hard to look casual, but his haircut, his sharp gaze, and the way he carried himself all screamed cop despite his best efforts not to look like one.

“Shit. You were serious. We’re obviously in trouble, here, and I need you to tell me how bad it really is right this instant.” I gripped the front of Roman’s black button-down shirt in my fists and tried to shake him. He didn’t budge, not even a little bit.

One corner of Roman’s mouth lifted in an amused half smile, but he shook his head, his dark hazel eyes glittering with authority and dominance. “No.”

“No?” I dropped my grip on his shirt and took a half-step back, desperate to put some space between us. I couldn’t think straight with him standing so close to me, radiating heat like a furnace and smelling like coffee and cedar and leather and sin.

Trying to regain some sense of control, I smoothed my silk blouse and straightened my pencil skirt, silently cursing my throbbing feet, still trapped in the same pair of black Louboutin stilettos I wore to the office. I went straight from the office to my apartment to grab clothes, and I was cutting it close enough on my flight time that I didn’t dare take the time to change clothes before I left.

Watching my every move like a hawk, Roman gave me a slow once-over, his smile widening and turning wicked before he spoke again. “No. Just do what I told you and play along, Zoe. A crowded airport terminal is not the place for the discussion we’re about to have.”

I was opening my mouth to argue when he stepped around me toward the luggage carousel.

“That your bag?” He pointed at my Gotham duffle as it rounded the bend to our left.

I nodded. “How’d you guess?”

Roman shrugged, and I couldn’t help staring at the way the muscles of his broad shoulders strained the fabric. “Simple, really. The bag screams money and privilege. It’s fancy and sleek and as black as your heart.”

He could have kicked me in the gut and it wouldn’t have hit me harder than that assessment. My chest tightened, and I struggled to suck down a calming breath. “Excuse me?”

“Did I fucking stutter? You heard me, Zoe. Let’s go.” Roman stepped forward and grabbed my bag with effortless grace, then pivoted and pressed a hand against the small of my back, guiding me toward the exit.

I waited until we were on the sidewalk outside the terminal to cut a sideways glare at him. “I didn’t come back to Montana to play some kind of twisted game with you, Roman. I came here to see my father. Tell me what’s going on.”

After spending the last ten years in sweltering Miami, the higher altitude and dry air of home burned my lungs. It was strange, sucking down gulps of air that weren’t thick and soupy with humidity.

Roman tried and failed to stifle a growl of frustration, shaking his head at me. “You saw the men who are following us. If you don’t stop badgering me to talk about what’s going on before we get back to the truck, I’ve got half a mind to throw you in the deep end and let you take your chances with the suits and the cop. Is that what you want?”

“No!” I sighed, running a hand through my hair in frustration as I scurried to keep up with his long, purposeful strides toward the parking garage. “I just want to know what I’m in for, Roman, and you’re scaring the shit out of me with this close-lipped, cagey behavior.”

Roman pressed his hand into the small of my back, urging me to walk even faster as we hurried toward the parking garage. “That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said all day. You should be scared, darlin’, because you and I are both in seriously deep shit.”

I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists at my sides. “How deep, Roman?”

Roman’s nostrils flared as he huffed out a snort of frustration, then looked away, checking over his shoulder to see if we were still being followed. “Deep enough that there’s a solid chance we might never see the light of day again. There. You happy?”

I crossed my arms, stifling the urge to scream with frustration. “No. What about the news that we’re in way over our heads would make me happy?”

Roman threw me a hard glare, then, his mouth twisting with distaste before he spoke. “You got your way. That usually does it for you. Now, can you please use that brilliant business executive head of yours and have some patience? Let me wait to fill you in on all the facts of the matter in a safe, enclosed environment where we won’t be at risk of incriminating ourselves by discussing what’s going on.”

If he’s worried about us incriminating ourselves, that can only mean one thing: somebody’s poking around, asking questions and looking into our past. Shit, shit, shit.

When I left ten years ago, I left Montana for a reason, and it took me too long to realize I should have listened to that voice in my head that warned me to leave as soon as my plane touched down in Bozeman.

All the blood drained out of my head and the world spun around me like a vomit-inducing, out-of-control carnival ride.

I should have stayed in Miami, sick father or not.

My legs went numb, and I couldn’t feel my feet. I stumbled and would have crashed in a heap on the pavement if not for Roman’s strong arm winding around my waist, holding me upright and all but dragging me the last few steps to the parking garage’s elevator.

Swearing under his breath, Roman jabbed the up button and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator. It felt like forever before the doors finally slid open and we stepped inside.

“I need you to keep it together just a little longer, Zoe. We still have an audience.” Roman stroked my back in soothing circles with one hand as he hit the button for the top deck of the parking garage with the other.

I leaned into his side, too exhausted and shaken to reject his comfort, especially when I spotted the off-duty deputy striding purposefully toward the elevator.

“Oh, god, he’s going to try to catch the elevator with us. Hit the door close button, quick, before he can get here,” I murmured the command, keeping my voice low so only Roman could hear me.

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