Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

Foolish to react this way. It wasn’t like Cosmo had just abandoned her. He’d been doing it her whole life. “I really need to harden my heart,” she muttered as she let herself into her apartment.

“And here I was hoping to soften you up with a little gift.”

The voice from her living room, decidedly masculine and somehow familiar, scared her flat against the door. Someone had broken into her home. Heart pounding, she drew two steadying breaths while a dangerous curiosity battled with the natural temptation to flee. Curiosity finally won.

Iris peered around the corner and her pulse hopscotched again at the sight of Mickey. His dress shirt and jeans, both in black, made a bold contrast against the soft desert colors she’d chosen for her furniture, carpet and walls.

She dropped her purse and the papers onto the little table near the door. “Do you think it was wise to come here?” Thank heavens she sounded level-headed, not giddy with the potential chaos of having Mickey Kincaid anywhere near her.

“Like you’ve never caused a man to act foolishly,” he practically purred. He appeared completely relaxed as he reclined against the sage-green pillows of her overstuffed sofa. His lips curved into a knowing smile. She remembered how those lips had nuzzled her ear last night, and she wondered how they’d taste.

No. No. And no. Iris tugged off her gray suit jacket, then regretted the choice when his hooded eyes narrowed even further on her black lace camisole. She couldn’t tell whether he was giving off pheromones or she was, but the room was thick with desire.

This man was dangerous, in all the wrong ways. But then, David had never looked at her with that open hunger that promised a banquet if shared.

Somewhere in the back of her endorphin-fogged brain, a synapse fired to tell her Mickey was exactly the person she needed right now. Giving herself a mental shake, she tossed her jacket on a chair. “The best gift you can give me is leaving.”

“Not a chance.” He rose, sending a tremor through her.

Not fear, no, was that…anticipation? God, she needed to get a grip. “What do you want?”

“Answers.” He stopped and nudged a box on the floor with his foot. “But aren’t you going to open your present?”

Despite her better judgment, she stepped forward, curious.

Mickey chuckled. “It won’t bite you. At least I hope not.”

Warily, she unfolded the top of the box. “It’s Edgar. Why do you have him?”

“Cosmo left him with me last night before he took off. I thought I’d bring him to you.”

“To me?” Her laugh sounded brittle, even to her. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

Mickey refolded the box lid, as if he feared the inquisitive rabbit would leap out and attack him. “It’s your dad’s pet. I figured you’d want to take care of him.”

“Well, you figured wrong. Let one of my dad’s other daughters take care of him.” She ran a hand through her hair, but that only further loosened her French knot.

“Ah, so now you know.”

Her hands stilled. “What, you mean you knew? Did Cosmo tell you?”

He hunched his shoulders as if embarrassed he’d revealed so much. “No, but in my business it pays to know everything you can about everyone around you. I’ve got sources as good as any the police have.”

Dandy. Cosmo hadn’t even bothered to hide his bigamy well. Anyone with a suspicious nature could have learned the truth years ago. Obviously, she hadn’t been suspicious enough.

Agitated, she plucked the pins from her hair and finger-combed it as best she could while she walked to the dining room. The mirror over the breakfront confirmed that she’d made a mess of her shoulder-length curls. She’d have to fix it before she saw David later.

Mickey trailed behind her. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, prayerlike.

Her gaze swept up to catch his reflection. That hunger in his eyes had transformed to a longing that was more than carnal, but even as she glimpsed it, he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked away.

Maybe she’d imagined it.

“Where’s your boyfriend this evening?”

“My fiancé works. I’m meeting him later.”

“Works on the weekend, huh? Fool.”

“And your lifestyle is so much better?” She raised a brow at him.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He grinned wolfishly. “Even if I worked hard all day, I’d make damn sure to get back home to you as quick as I could. If David could see you like that and still remember what he does for a living, well, I’m just saying…” He shrugged.

Her body warmed to his words as well as the appreciative gleam in his eye. David, with all his pretty speeches, had never heated her blood and shut down her brain the way this guy did. It was sheer animal magnetism, and that was bad.

Even though she liked it.

Iris slipped out of her high heels and walked back to the living room. “What is it you want, Mr. Kincaid?”

Mickey watched the sway of her hips. Oh, yeah, he wanted a lot of things from Iris Fortune, only that wasn’t in the cards. He gave a soft lazy laugh as he followed her. “There’s no rush, is there? Aren’t you going to offer me a drink or something?” When she turned to glare at him, he winked at her.

She froze for a moment then thawed with a chuckle. “Why not? The bar is over there. Make yourself a drink, make yourself at home for that matter.” With a wave she seemed to forget about him and sank onto the sofa, her legs curled beneath her. He mixed two gin and tonics while she removed her pearl bracelets, rings and earrings, and dumped them on the coffee table.

Stepping behind the sofa, he handed her both drinks as she reached up to undo the clasp of her necklace. “Hold these and let me do that for you.”

She leaned back to consider him, her brandy-colored eyes fringed with dark lashes lifted in surprise. Soft curls, the golden red of an angel, fell back to reveal a mile of ivory throat tapering to nearly bare shoulders. His gaze roamed over her breasts, which curved into the lace confines of that sexy little camisole that did nothing to hide her erect nipples.

An erection of his own responded. Great, but now was not the time. He needed information from her, not a night in her bed. Although…

He teased them both by sliding his fingers along her clavicle and up her throat to her nape, while his other hand bunched her hair to one side, the silky texture a welcome torture. Leaning close, he breathed against her ear and smiled when she visibly shuddered. Finally, he undid the catch on her necklace and released one end to let it slip into the valley between her breasts. His gaze locked with hers, he slowly withdrew it, the pearls gliding against her soft skin.

Noticing her closed eyelids, he leaned close. “I’m available any time you need help undressing,” he whispered.

Her eyes shot open to consider him speculatively. Mickey held his breath-time itself seemed to stop. Finally, Iris offered his glass to him. When he took it, she turned her palm over to receive the pearl necklace. He laid it in her hand.

“Sit down, Mr. Kincaid. You want something, and whatever it is means more to you than sex.”

“Am I that obvious?” He rubbed his temple and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “I must be slipping.”

“Don’t play me. Last night you told me Cosmo stole ten million dollars in gems.” She sipped her drink. “How do you know that?”

“The people I work for hired him to pick up the goods, only Cosmo never delivered. I don’t know if he’s trying to sell the gems or if he’s trying to get my employers to pay him a higher fee. Either way, he could wind up dead-like the guy in his car.”

“You know about that?”

“He’s the jeweler who authenticated the gems. I think your dad was looking for easy money, but he doesn’t know the type of people he’s up against.”