Need Me (Dark Obsession 3)

“Yes,” her voice had turned icy, “it was your mistake. But it was mine, too. I never should have come here. I’ll find someone else.” She gave him a curt nod. “Forget you ever saw me.”

She turned on her heel and once more aimed for the door—and freedom.

“Forgetting you won’t be easy,” Devlin said. “No hope of that.”

But she wasn’t stopping now. He’d insulted her, attacked her…and she’d just wanted his help. He had no idea how afraid she was—every single moment—and she needed the fear to stop. She hadn’t been able to sleep for a full night, not since before Jeremy’s death. Her nerves were shattering, and the terror had to stop. Julianna grabbed the door knob, yanked that door open, and hurried outside.

“Julianna, wait!”

No way. Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. The word pounded through her head as she rushed for the elevator. But he was right behind her. She could hear his footsteps and her heart just raced harder in her chest. She jumped into the elevator and her fingers stabbed at the buttons.

Before the doors could close, he stepped inside with her.

That space was way too small for the two of them.

But the doors had just closed, and now they were alone in that elevator.

“You need to know,” Devlin began. “When I take a case, I make it a point to learn every secret that my client may have. I never go into any situation blind. Not anymore. When you do that, deadly mistakes happen.”

“You’re not taking my case, so it hardly matters.” She thought they’d already gotten that clear. “There are plenty of other bodyguards in the city. I’m sure they’ll take my money without even thinking twice.” And without digging into her past. She didn’t want Devlin knowing her secrets. She didn’t want anyone knowing them.

Why was the elevator so slow? She craned around him, trying to see the control panel.

“Why do you think someone’s after you?”

Seriously? “Oh, I don’t know…maybe because I woke up in a pool of my dead husband’s blood. Someone drugged me and just left me there. And then, let’s see, maybe it could be the emails I’ve been getting. Those lovely notes that say I won’t get away with my crimes. That I’m next. Could be that,” she muttered.

The elevator chimed. The doors opened. Yes. She was on the ground floor and home free.

“Julianna…”

She shook her head and marched through the lobby and out into the night. It was late, the street was pretty much deserted—and, lucky her—she’d gotten a parking spot just a little bit down the block.

Her heels clicked on the sidewalk. The cold wind caught her hair, tossing it behind her as she hurried. Going to VJS had been a colossal mistake. For the first time, Sophie had led her astray. Fumbling, Julianna pulled her car keys from her purse. Her fingers closed around them, and she remotely unlocked the car.

“Has anything else happened?”

She almost jumped at his voice. He was far, far too close.

And Devlin was reaching out to her again. Not roughly, but, carefully curling his hand around her.

“Julianna, please, just stop.”

He’d rather gritted out the please request.

But she stopped. Her fingers slid over the keys. It was getting colder and she thought she even felt the light drop of snowflakes on her.

“Has anything else happened to make you think that you’re in danger?” Devlin demanded.

Her finger pushed the button to start her car’s ignition. The engine growled to life. She shook off Devlin’s hold and turned to go—

Her top-of-the-line, way-too-expensive luxury car erupted into flames. A loud boom filled the air, making her ears instantly ring even as Julianna was tossed back, flying from the force of the blast. But she didn’t fly far because Devlin grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her and turned so that his body was shielding hers when they hit the ground.

She couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in her ears. She could see Devlin’s face. His mouth was moving but—

“Are you all right? Dammit, Julianna, talk to me!”

She could feel something wet sliding down her cheek. She knew it wasn’t tears. She’d cried all of those out already. So it had to be blood.

“Julianna?”

“This…” Julianna managed to say. “This happened.”

The furrow between his brows deepened.

Her fingers curled around his arms. “You asked…” Dear God, her car was burning. Well, what was left of it, anyway. “You asked what happened to make me think I was in danger…This happened.”

Someone had just wired her car to blow. If she’d been in it, or, hell, maybe if she’d even been a few steps closer, Julianna knew she would have been dead.

“I’m taking your damn case,” Devlin growled.

Good. Because she really wasn’t in the mood to die.

Chapter Two

“I hardly think that I need to stay at your place.” Julianna’s words were calm. Almost excruciatingly polite. She stood in his home, her hands folded in front of her, her clothes torn and dirty, and smeared blood was on her cheek. “I have a home where I can stay, you know. I don’t need—”

“Until I can figure out more about your case,” Devlin gritted out, “I want you staying with me.”

A freaking car bomb. How the hell did that relate to the stabbing death of her husband? He’d felt the lance of that heat across his skin. Devlin knew just how damn close they’d both come to serious injury. Someone was definitely out to get Julianna, and if he hadn’t thought she was innocent before, well, he was sure leaning that way now.

She looked vulnerable standing there. Delicate. Fragile.

And too beautiful by far.

Julianna was one of those women who seemed to have a perfect, untouchable beauty. Cheekbones made of glass. Skin creamy and smooth. A slightly curving chin, a button nose, but lips—lips that were full and sinful. Her lips were currently unpainted, but they’d been a slick red when she first walked into his office.

Too sexy.

Now the only red on her…that was the faint blood that smeared across one high cheekbone. She’d been cut during the explosion. He hated that she’d been hurt. Devlin pointed down the hallway. “You can use my bathroom to clean up.” The cops had rushed to the scene. He and Julianna had been grilled, again and again. He’d actually gotten lucky because Detective Faith Chestang had been leading the investigation. That woman knew how to get shit done at the PD. She also knew to keep him in the loop on this investigation, just as VJS would be sure to keep her updated on all the intel they uncovered.

Julianna’s head was tilted down. Some of her blonde hair had come loose from the twist at the back of her head. Those tendrils slid against her cheeks.

“Julianna?”

She glanced up at him and when he met her gaze, it was as if he’d just taken a punch to the gut. Julianna’s eyes were so deep. A dark chocolate, but flecked with gold. Gorgeous eyes. Eyes that seemed to see into him, and Devlin couldn’t have that. He didn’t want anyone seeing the particular sins he carried in his soul.

“Do you ever feel like…” Julianna began, her voice soft, “you’re trapped in some kind of nightmare? And no matter what you do, you just can’t wake up?”

He’d been there, a time or twenty. “Your nightmare started when you woke up to find your husband’s dead body.”

She laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. “No, the nightmare began after I said ‘I do’ to my husband. By then, it was too lat

e.”

Devlin tensed. He’d suspected this might have happened—and it fucking pissed him off. “He hurt you.”

She turned away. Her steps were slow as she headed to the bathroom. “Let’s just say I didn’t exactly cry over his body.”

“What did he do?”

She didn’t answer. Julianna continued down the hall, presumably going to the bathroom. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. If he was taking her case—and he was—then he needed to know all the details of her marriage. Even if those details made him want to go out and kill Jeremy Smith. You can’t kill the dead.

If only. Devlin turned and headed into his home office. The space was filled with top-of-the-line computers that would give him access to nearly everything. Early in life, he’d discovered his talent with computers. They’d opened doors for him. Shown him a whole new world.

A world of secrets and lies. People pretended so often, they hid their true selves, but with his computers, he could find their secrets.

Devlin sat down at his desk. In seconds, he’d pulled up the news stories about Julianna’s trial.

Socialite charged in murder of developer husband.

Police arrest wife…charge her with the murder of billionaire Jeremy Smith.

She’d been tried quickly in the court of public opinion. After all, she’d been alone in the house with her husband. Her fingerprints had been on the knife. Her husband’s blood had been found on her clothes.

And witnesses had come forward. Folks who’d been too willing to share that the gorgeous Julianna and her prominent husband hadn’t exactly been living in wedded bliss. There had been stories of jealous rages. Arguments. A secret lover…Jeremy’s step-daughter, Heather Aslo, had only been too happy to point her well-manicured finger at Julianna. She’d been sure that Julianna committed the crime.

Devlin leaned forward. He needed to access the police files on her case. So maybe he was bending—breaking?—the law a bit. His fingers flew over the keyboard. He’d get the information that he needed.