Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

Belatedly, she realized he was thinking about his brother. “How long ago did your brother-?”

“Six months.”

She waited, unwilling to press him for details, knowing the pain might still be too raw.

Mickey gathered her close to rest his cheek against the top of her head. “He was my kid brother, two years younger than me. Growing up, he wanted to do everything I did. He followed me through Little League, varsity football and the police academy. Brian hadn’t even hit his twenty-eighth birthday. He’d been married less than two years. He wanted to be just like me, and it got him killed.”

Iris pulled away far enough to study his face. “You don’t really believe that’s true.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “The irony is he wasn’t even on duty that night. Went down to the corner store after dinner. There was some kid trying to hold up the joint, and he had the clerk at gunpoint. Brian tried to talk the kid down, almost had him, when another guy shot him in the back.”

Mickey stared dully into space. “He never even saw it coming. Thought he was dealing with one kid when there was a whole gang involved.”

A tear slid down Iris’s face. From Mickey’s story, his brother’s death had been a tragedy in every sense.

Mickey focused on her once more, his own cheeks damp. “I buried myself in work to escape remembering that Brian’s gone. Every time I remembered, it reminded me I couldn’t feel anymore. Iris, I don’t know that I can even name what this is when I’m with you. I can’t trust it enough to make promises-”

Iris laid her forefinger against his lips to shush him. “What is it with you and promises? Why can’t there just be us, right here, right now?”

“In the moment.” He kissed her finger and smiled. “Is that what you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I want.” She twined her arms around his strength, vine to his tree. “I want you, like this, feeling whatever it is you feel for me. Because whatever it is, it’s enough for now.” She stretched up on her toes to kiss him.

The coffee on his lips and tongue tasted dark and bitter but refreshing as she hungrily explored his mouth, drawing a guttural purr from him. With a shadow of a smile, she trailed kisses across his stubbly chin and throat until she reached his delicate ear. Pulling him to her, she nibbled his earlobe while her hands massaged his nape and her fingers furrowed into his hair.

“God, do you know what you do to me?” His lips whispered across her cheek.

“Tell me.”

His hands gripped her waist. “This.” He lifted her up and seated her on the kitchen counter. “And this.” He hiked her skirt up until her bare thighs felt the cool granite surface. He held her gaze trapped in his. “And this.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the lacey bra beneath.

She pulled him to her breasts, and he complied with her unspoken desire. His hands cupped and warmed her while he kissed along her clavicle. Her nipples puckered in response and his thumbs teased the taut buds. She gasped, and he answered her request by sliding her straps down her arms. Since she still wore her open blouse and jacket, this left her arms trapped at her sides, but she didn’t mind. It only heightened the experience as he laved her breasts with agonizing care and detail.

Leaning her head back against the upper cupboard, she surrendered to his ministering mouth. Meanwhile, his hands spread her thighs as far as her skirt would allow them to open. Fingers whispered across her heated flesh, and she remembered how she’d longed to have him take her while she was bound.

He stepped back to look at her, his hooded eyes glinting in the fading daylight. “Is this what you want?” He bent down to press his warm mouth to the inside of her knee.

Her whole body responded with a reflexive jerk that made him pause and look up at her again. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

Mickey chuckled. “I’m so glad tonight the guard is on the outside of the door.” With that, he bent to taste her flesh again.

Iris closed her eyes, willing to forget there was any world beyond the host of sensation she experienced as he suckled his way up her inner thigh.

Reading the giant red nine-fifteen on her alarm clock, Iris knew she was going to have to let Mickey return to the dangers of the real world. She looked over at him, sprawled across her bed, dozing in relaxed contentment.

Not even that damn gun on his pillow could unnerve her anymore.

They’d spent a few blissful stolen hours pretending, lingering over each other as if neither had a care in the world. Mickey had played her to a crescendo in the kitchen-her skin still heated at the memory. Afterwards, he’d carried her to the bedroom, where they’d made love at a torturous snail’s pace, discovering every nuance they could reveal about each other. These few hours had been heaven.

But now it was time to face their responsibilities. They both needed answers from Cosmo-Iris to learn the truth behind the alexandrite, and Mickey to catch the killers. She snuggled against Mickey’s side, trailing her fingernails across his muscled chest. He responded with a hum of approval before he opened his eyes to regard her.

“Why would Cosmo try to con Robert Donovan?” she asked. Not that she expected Mickey to have the answer.

“And why would Robert Donovan hire Turner to kill the people involved with purchasing these gems?”

A sudden chill swept over Iris, making her shudder.

Seeing it, Mickey enfolded her in his warm arms. “It’s going to be all right. I’ll find your father tonight. We’ll solve this, and no one else will get hurt.”

“I delivered Donovan’s message. Cosmo was so pleased, but then it never seemed to lead to anything.” She touched Mickey’s chiseled jaw. “I put him in harm’s way. I can’t do the same to you.”

“I thought you didn’t care what happened to me.”

“I lied,” she admitted with a sidelong glance.

Those sensuous lips of his eased into that cocksure grin that always made her weak-kneed. “I’m glad. I don’t know what this is between us, Iris Fortune, but it’s good, isn’t it?”

“It is.” She returned his sweet kiss.

“And I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” Mickey climbed out of bed. “I’m going to shower.”

She let him go, knowing instinctively that he needed some time and privacy to change back into the trickster persona that had kept him alive this far. But it didn’t escape her that even after all her protestations, he’d somehow managed to make her a promise-one he couldn’t possibly control. One that would endanger him to keep.

Later, Iris watched Mickey get dressed. “You haven’t changed your clothes since yesterday morning.”

“Like I said, my place stopped being safe. Maybe I’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

“I could come with you now,” she suggested. “The shops will be open at the casinos. You could buy a few things.”

“Iris, no.” He came toward her, his eyes soft in the twilight shimmering from the window. “We’ve been over this. I’ll try to find Cosmo, and you stay here with Foote at the door and keep an eye on those gems.”

A smile threatened, and she pursed her lips against it. She’d known he would insist on leaving her behind, but felt it important she air her dissatisfaction.

“Now don’t pout,” he said.

“Was I?” David would never have put up with her pouting, but Mickey was amused by it. Actually, his amusement riled her more. “But, Mickey-”

“N-O. If you don’t behave, I’ll have Foote put you under house arrest.”

She slumped back against the headboard and pulled her knees to her chest. “You didn’t used to tell me what to do.”