Page 73 of White Lies

She smiles. “We do the same things you do, Nick Rogers, but better, because we’ve been practicing. Have fun with Faith this weekend.” She disappears, and I’m already back at the window and dialing Beck.

“I just paid Faith’s past-due bank note and six months in advance,” I tell him. “I like to know my enemies when I make them. And I pay you a lot of money to tell me who they are.”

“I found a secretary at the bank who was at a party your father attended three months before he died. That same secretary visited Reid Winter Winery a year before Meredith Winter died. The interesting part about this is that that same weekend, Faith’s agentandher ex were at the gallery where she just had that show.”

“With Faith?”

“Faith was in L.A.”

“That’s odd.”

“Yes. It is.”

“It gets even stranger. Her uncle was in Sonoma that weekend, staying at his cottage without his wife.”

“You think he was still fucking Meredith Winter?”

“I damn sure wouldn’t rule it out.”

Which will absolutely kill Faith. “How does the secretary connect to that bastard, Montgomery, I’m dealing with?”

“She’s his boss’s boss’s secretary. I don’t know what your father got himself into, but it’s dirty. I’m gambling on that murder connection. And I’ll figure it out, but you need every bit of evidence when I do to take this to the police. You still believe Faith Winter is innocent.”

“I don’t remember saying either way.”

“Well, let her tell you if she’s innocent or guilty. We need two bodies and two autopsies. If she’s innocent, she’ll request one on her mother. If she’s not, she’ll refuse.”

“Just keep working this,” I say and end the call, leaning a hand on the window.

Faithisinnocent. The problem is, I’m not. I’ve lied. I’ve deceived her. And eventually, I have to tell her. And when I do, I’m at the risk of losing her, but I’ve never lost anything I wanted in my life. And I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want Faith Winter.

…

I’m standing in the private hangar when Faith’s plane pulls to a halt, and the minute the doors open and she steps into my view, adrenaline surges through me. Her eyes meet mine, and I feel this woman like I’ve felt no other. I’m obsessed with her when I have never been obsessed with anything but success. With how she looks. With how she feels. With how she tastes. With the way she trusts me when I trust her. The way she doubts me when I doubt her. I have read people as well as I read Faith, but no one has ever read me the way she reads me. And out of nowhere, I think:I’m falling in love with her. Which is insane. I don’t believe in love, and neither does she, and she’s new to me. I’m new to her. But when does someone know they are in love? A day? A week? A year? It doesn’t matter. It’s not love. Whatever the hell this is, though, Faith feels it, too. I see it in her eyes. She lowers her lashes as if battling what I’m battling.

I watch her inhale and let it out before her lashes lift and she starts walking down the stairs, her eyes on mine, and in them I see an echo of what I am thinking. We need to fuck this out of our systems. Fucking makes everything better. I meet her at the bottom of the steps, and in the quiet of the private hangar, I do exactly what I want to do. I mold her to me, and I kiss her like the starving man I am. And she tastes like everything I have ever wanted and didn’t even know I wanted.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, tearing my mouth from hers.

“Yes,” she whispers, and I swear this woman’s voice gets me hard and hot. I want her mouth everywhere, most definitely on my damn cock, and that’s her fault for being so damn good at putting it there.

I grab her bag from the flight attendant and waste no time guiding Faith to the parking lot. Once her bag is in my back seat, I walk her to the passenger side of the vehicle, and when she’s about to get inside, I pull her to me again and kiss her. “I’m really fucking glad you’re here.”

“Is this where you say ‘too fucking glad’?”

“This is where I take you home and get you naked before I find a way to piss you off and it never happens.”

She laughs, soft and sexy, and slides into the car. I’m inside with her in a few beats, and before I start the car, she says, “Can I get the bad stuff over with real quick?”

I angle toward her. “What bad stuff, Faith?”

“Anything with the bank?”

“I filed papers. They filed papers. I’m filing more papers. Bottom line, I made a big move, and I’ll know more on Monday about how that plays out.”

“What big move?”

“Legal stuff,” I say, not about to tell her about the money. Not now. I’ll swim in the shit I’ve created all at once and with a plan. “And I’m asking you to trust me enough to set it aside until Monday. Okay?”

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