Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2) - Page 4

Frightened of his intentions, I hesitate to give him the name.

“What is his name, Cas?”

I swallow. “Detective Wolfe.”

“Jim Wolfe. That bastard son of a bitch. Did he blackmail you with the photos?”

“He said he’d make them public if I didn’t cooperate.”

“He was bluffing,” he says through thin lips. “He was manipulating you, trying to scare you into complying. He wasn’t going to leak anything when he believed he had a chance of getting to me through you.”

He scrutinizes me. “You couldn’t know that though.” His expression turns calculating. “Why didn’t you agree to spy for him? Weren’t you worried about those photos being splashed all over the news?”

Heatedly, I say, “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about who saw me naked.”

“Well, I do,” he says through gritted teeth.

My voice rises in volume. “I had bigger worries to deal with.”

He throws the taunt at me. “Such as what I’d do to you if you ever tried something so stupid as to spy on me?”

“Such as being arrested for murder!”

He freezes. The silence stretches. The light of the lamp no longer feels warm and soft. The shadows are cold and hard with sharp edges.

“Murder?” he says in an eerily soft voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Nick Kruger, my ex-boss, was killed in a heist, half of his face shot away.”

His jaw sets in a hard line. “It’s a lie.”

“I saw the photo, Ian. I saw his brains blown over the floor.”

“Fuck.” He sits down next to me and takes my hand, placing it in his lap. “They had no right to make you look at that.”

I pull my hand away. “They showed me the photo of the assailants.” I pause. “Three men in Phantom masks.”

“Jesus.” Tilting his head to the ceiling, he drags his hands over his head. When he looks back at me, he’s not trying to hide the turmoil in his eyes. “It wasn’t us. We don’t kill for money.”

I study his face. “No? Are you telling me killing is beyond you? Because not so long ago you told me you wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a person, not even a woman.”

He grinds his teeth. “Killing isn’t beneath me, baby doll. You better believe that, but I won’t kill for things that aren’t worth it. Money definitely isn’t worth a life.”

“But you will kill.” I hold my breath, willing him to say no.

“Only if it matters enough to me.”

My chest deflates as he kills my hope. “What matters to you?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Family. The people I care about.”

He’s serious. He’s dead serious. A shiver runs over me. “The photo of the three men… How do you explain that?”

“Imposters.” His eyes turn hard. “They must’ve seen an opportunity while we were in the vicinity and decided to pose as us.”

I don’t know if I believe him. I don’t know what to think any longer. Avoiding his intense gaze, I study my hands, but he doesn’t let me escape.

He grips my chin and tilts my face to him. “I’ll get those photos back.”

“I told you, it’s not the photos I’m worried about.”

“No.” His voice is grave. “It’s being an accomplice to murder.” He drops his hand to the bed, curling his fingers into a fist. “This time, he’s gone too far.”

“Who?”

“Detective-fucking-Wolfe.”

Ian said Detective Wolfe’s name is Jim. More apprehension tightens my stomach. “You know him.”

“He’s a big shot detective with a special unit in Pretoria. He’s been on my case since day one. You can say he’s developed an obsession with catching me, and he won’t stop at anything. I’ve become a stain on his reputation.”

“Shit.” I rub my hands over my face. “He’s not going to give up.” I know it instinctively. In his own way, Wolfe is as determined as Ian. He may not be as dangerous, but he’s not less unscrupulous.

Ian puts an arm around me. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

I shake him off.

Cupping my face, he forces me to face him. “What I’m not sorry about is kissing you, and I’ll never be sorry about being inside you.”

Just like that, my body catches fire. A flame runs over my skin. He has the ability to crush me with a single look, even when I’m so mad at him that I want to slap him. Even when I’m frightened of him. Yes, even when I don’t know what to believe.

“I’m going to get those photos back,” he says in a gentle tone, “I swear that to you.”

As if those damning photos are the biggest of my burdens. Being here and what the future holds for me is a much heavier worry. The weight of it bears down on me, dragging me into a very scary and dark place.

When Ian pushes me down, I don’t resist. I don’t stop him when he stretches out over me and cups my head between his broad palms, tilting my face to meet his lips. For now, I allow myself to be weak. While I don’t have answers or solutions, I let him part my lips and kiss me like he means it. As despair sucks me deeper, I allow myself to drown in his skillful caress.

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Beauty in the Stolen Erotic
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