Confessions. Cynthia Eden

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СКАЧАТЬ been so stoic at that graveside. He’d stood apart from his siblings. She’d wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him and try to comfort him. As a friend.

      But...they didn’t even have friendship between them, not anymore.

      “It’s because of your parents, isn’t it?” Scarlett murmured as she rubbed at the tension that had knotted the base of her neck. “Their death brought you back.”

      Back from his missions. From the life that she didn’t know anything about.

      But...

      He carried a scar now. Small, thin, white, the wound marked the skin under the curve of his jaw. But he was damaged by more than just that scar. When she gazed in his eyes, she could see the new shadows that he carried. The new secrets.

      “Ava was seventeen when they died,” he said, voice low. “She needed us. She...took their death hard.”

      Ava was his baby sister. A surprise that had come to their family. “She was there, wasn’t she?” That was the story Scarlett had read. Ava had been at the ranch house when intruders came in and shot her parents. She’d been there, but she’d escaped.

      “She was there.” Grant’s voice was grim. “And she still blames herself. She thinks that she could have saved them.” He raked a hand through his hair. “If she’d tried, she would have died, too.”

      Scarlett found herself creeping toward him. Then, because she couldn’t stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him. He was stiff and still in her embrace. “I’m sorry. They were good people.”

      He didn’t hug her back, and she began to feel foolish. Hugging him had been an impulse, and obviously, the wrong one to follow. She started to retreat.

      Then his arms rose. He curled them around her and held her tightly against him.

      And it was like coming home. Being in his arms felt right—when it was wrong. All wrong. The past was over. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago.

      “You still smell like vanilla.”

      His voice was a growl. His body was so warm and hard.

      “Every time I smell vanilla, I think of you.” His voice was a rumble that seemed to vibrate right through her whole body.

      She tried to pull away then. Nothing good would come from getting in too deep with Grant. She had to protect herself. She was already in enough trouble as it was.

      But he wasn’t letting her go.

      Her head tilted back. She stared up at him.

      “No other woman has eyes like you do.” His voice was still that low, sensual rumble. “So dark and deep. And every time those eyes lock on me, I wonder...how deep does she see into me?”

      “Grant...”

      His gaze fell to her mouth. “I always liked the way you said my name.”

      His head was lowering toward hers. Despite everything, Scarlett wanted him to kiss her, because it had been far too long since she’d felt his lips against her own.

      But she was terrified. He couldn’t kiss her. She wouldn’t, couldn’t repeat the same mistakes from her past. And getting personally involved with Grant McGuire would be a huge mistake.

      Because Grant couldn’t love her. He never had, and he never would.

      “Let me go,” she whispered, even though just an inch separated their mouths.

      “What if I don’t want to?” He surrounded her. “Don’t you want to see if it’s as good between us now...as it was then? Because I do.”

      It would be as good. Their chemistry had always been electric. Her body yearned for him.

      Mistake. Mistake. She’d been charged with murdering her ex-fiancé. She’d barely been released on bail. She couldn’t do this.

      “Let me go,” Scarlett said again.

      Surprisingly, he did.

      She backed away from him, a few quick, desperate steps. Scarlett sucked in fast gulps of air.

      Grant watched her. “You still want me.”

      Desire faded with time. It had to fade. Ten years should have killed it, but...

      It didn’t.

      “And, just so we’re clear,” Grant continued, as his pupils expanded to swallow the green of his gaze, “I can’t look at you without wanting you naked and in my bed.”

      She lost the breath she’d taken.

      “Just so we’re clear,” he murmured again.

      They were more than clear. Her heart was racing. Her body aching. “We...can’t.”

      “I think we can.” His head tilted as he studied her. His gaze, burning with desire, swept over her. “I think we will.”

      She could only shake her head. “Don’t you wonder? I mean, even a little bit...”

      He waited.

      “How can you be so sure I’m not dangerous? That I’m not a threat to you?”

      He started stalking toward her. Instinctively, Scarlett backed up. She retreated until her shoulders hit the bricks that lined his fireplace.

      “Baby, do I look like I’m afraid?”

      He’d never looked afraid—of anything or anyone. But he was also very, very different from the boy she’d known. “What happened to you?” Scarlett asked him softly.

      “War. Death.” His voice was grim. “So trust me when I say that I can handle any threat that comes my way.”

      She swallowed. She felt trapped, more caged than she had when she’d been back in her prison cell.

      And he wasn’t even touching her.

      “Grant...I need us to keep the past—”

      His eyelids flickered.

      “In the past,” she finished softly. “Too much is on the line. I have to find out who killed Eric. Why he was killed.”

      Grant’s jaw hardened. “I will find out. I’ll clear you.”

      And then she’d owe him. That knowledge was there, pushing between them.

      He sighed softly then took a step back. “I need to know about your fiancé’s enemies.”

      He wasn’t my fiancé. Not at the end.

      “Eric...he was a tax attorney. He got along great with his clients.” She rubbed her chilled arms. “He didn’t have enemies.” He’d been a likable guy. Making friends СКАЧАТЬ