Hot as Hell (9 page)

She flexed her hands under his. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Your choice, babe. But I’m thinking I can last longer than you can.” Now there was a damn lie. If he grew any harder, his lower half might explode. “You know what you need to do.”

“Call Detective Sommerville and have her lock you up?”

“What’s the password?”

“I am not playing this game.” Lexy turned her head to the side and stared at the curtains at the back door.

All an act. He could feel the excitement churn inside her. The pink flush to her skin gave her away.

He nipped at her exposed breast. “Say the word and we’ll get back to business.”

“You mean sex.”

“Oh, I definitely mean sex.” He caught her lips in a long, drawn-out sexy kiss.

“Well?”

She sighed. “You win.”

“We both do.”

N
oah dragged Lexy out of bed and down to the police station before eight the next morning as promised. Since Lexy could not go into her room to retrieve her clothes, she wore sweats, sneakers, and a T-shirt Noah grabbed from the spa’s gift store after forcing Tate to open the place.

Noah knew her sizes. She was not surprised, since Noah seemed to know everything.

“For a small woman, Detective Sommerville sure does put away a lot of coffee,” Lexy said in a whisper when the detective left the stale-smelling interrogation room for the second time in forty minutes.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “She’s not getting coffee.”

“Then what is she doing?”

“Watching us from behind that shaded glass.” Noah nodded in the general direction of the long wall across from him and to her left.

Lexy stopped fooling with the string holding up the waistband of her pants and followed his gaze. “Really?”

“Don’t you ever watch television?” he asked.

“Sure. But rooms like this are for when the police are shaking down perps.”

He lowered his chair back to the floor. “Let’s agree that you’ll never use that phrase again.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m still waiting for you to agree.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he mumbled under his breath. “Look, in case you haven’t noticed, you are the suspect in this scenario.”

She squinted trying to see who was hovering on the other side of the dark glass before turning her attention back to Noah. “Me?”

“Why exactly do you think we’re here?”

“Because we found a dead guy on the floor.” She wanted to add “duh?” but refrained, since it sounded juvenile.

“A dead guy you just happen to know. You keep forgetting that condemning little fact.”

Lexy lowered her voice just in case Detective Sommerville or any other detective was watching and listening. “I told you I saw Henderson at the spa.”

“You can stop pretending now. Detective Sommerville isn’t buying it. No one with a pulse would.”

“You were much more pleasant before we…” She waved her hand in the air. “You know.”

A smile inched across his lips. “I love when you do that.”

“What?”

“Go from a wildcat in the bedroom to Little Miss Priss outside of it. Hell, you climbed all over—”

“I am not a priss.” She used her least prissy voice to make her point.

“Whatever you say, Alexa Annabeth.”

She refused to concede on this issue. She was not a prude or anything even close. She ran her own business, battled Noah on even turf without backing down, and enjoyed mountain biking and hiking. Right now she was running a covert investigation.

Sure, years before, her mother had sent her to ballet classes and etiquette classes and every other class regularly attended by wealthy little girls. Lexy had stomached her parents’ country-club life until she turned thirteen and rebelled. Since her parents never bought into the trappings of their wealthy lifestyle, the rebellion fizzled. In its place formed a tacit family agreement to refrain from engaging in the outspend-the-neighbors philosophy that ran rampant on their street.

Then there was the part that had nothing to do with her upbringing. It dealt with the here and now. Chatting about her personal life while half the police officers of southern Utah listened in did not qualify as her idea of fun. Some private conversations were better suited to the bedroom. This counted as one of them.

The door opened again and Detective Sommerville walked in. From the stupid grin she was trying hard to swallow, Lexy figured she picked up on Noah’s sex comments.

“Can we leave now?” Noah asked as he tipped his chair back again.

Detective Sommerville stopped smiling. “Not until the two of you start telling the truth.”

“Think of how much less fun that would be for us.”

“Noah.” Lexy thought about kicking him as part of her warning, but feared she would knock his chair over. And they needed to be upright and on their game to deal with this detective.

“Listen to your girlfriend, Mr. Paxton.”

“Fiancée.”

Lexy decided she strayed enough the night before and tried to restake old ground. “He means ex-fiancée.”

“No, I don’t.”

The detective sat down with two thick file folders stacked in front of her. “I’ve taken the opportunity to check into both of your backgrounds.”

The detective opened the top folder and scanned whatever was in there. Even if Lexy could read upside down, which was not one of her skills, it would not have helped. The detective held up the tip of the folder so the contents stayed just out of view.

“All of that is about us?” Lexy asked.

“Of course.”

Noah’s eyebrow rose. “You’ve been busy. Must have been a slow night shift.”

“Except for the murder, you mean.”

Noah gave the detective a look of reluctant admiration. “Well, yeah.”

Right or wrong, Lexy had enough of the death talk. “How is it possible you collected all of those documents in just a few hours when all you know is our names?”

Lexy suddenly regretted providing even that much information when she checked in at the resort. She had toyed with the idea of using an alias, but Tate seemed harmless and the idea struck her as a bit too television-drama for her taste.

Now she wondered about that decision. Next time she went on a mission to track down the truth about Noah’s ass—something she vowed would never happen again—she’d pay in cash and use the name Natasha.

“Mr. Carr was kind enough to fill in some of the personal information we needed on both of you,” the detective said.

“Hate that guy.” The front legs of Noah’s chair hit the cement floor with a crack.

“What did he give you?” The idea that Tate knew her personal business made Lexy want to take a long, cleansing shower. Then strangle the guy.

“Information and plenty of it,” said the petite woman with the big gun strapped to her side.

Lexy refused to be intimidated. “Meaning?”

“Tate gave you our addresses, credit card numbers, and that sort of thing?” Noah waited until the detective nodded in agreement to glare at Lexy. “I told you Tate was a leaf-eating jackass.”

A mix of shock and disgust slammed through her. “That information is private.”

“Not to Utah’s finest,” Noah grumbled.

The detective scanned the pages and pages of notes in front of her. “Correct.”

“Why do I feel the need to contact a lawyer?” A kick of satisfaction went through Lexy when she saw the other woman frown. “Or maybe my Congressman?”

The detective turned her attention to Noah. “Mr. Paxton, I see you’re in the security business.”

“Yes.”

“You’re familiar with guns and weapons.”

“Since Henderson was killed with a lamp, I’m not sure why that’s relevant to anything.”

“It’s a simple calculation. A man is dead and you know how to kill.”

“Not with a lightbulb.”

Deep down, Lexy knew Noah had seen the worst of the world. The only information he had provided about his military career was a brief description of Sniper School. Between the gun expertise and his comments about killing, she had an idea of his life before her.

It was whatever was happening in his head right now that was her bigger concern. In some respects, she saw him as a scam artist. Finding out about his ex-wife and his possible involvement in a felony in the same week drove that point home.

Then there was this other side of him. The loving side. The part of him that accepted her parents and brought her a comfort and happiness she had never known. She wanted to believe—no,
needed
to believe—all of that was real.

But now was not the time. Not with Detective Sommerville listening in and looking to close a case fast.

“How about I give you a scenario to consider? I’ll tell you what I think and you tell me how close I am.” Pages crumpled in the detective’s fist as she spoke.

“Guess this means we can’t leave yet,” Noah said to Lexy.

The other woman cleared her throat and started spelling out her theory. “Your girlfriend—”

Noah slapped his hand against the desk with a smack. “Why does everyone in Utah have trouble with the word fiancée?”

Lexy snorted. “Yeah, I wonder.”

“As I was saying.” The detective talked louder, enunciating her words until they bounced off the cement walls. “You find out your girlfriend, fiancée, or whatever you want to call Ms. Stuart, is at a secluded spa with another man.”

Lexy had no choice but to interfere. “Wait a second.”

“You come here to drag her back home—”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Noah said.

Lexy thought about rolling her eyes, but refrained since no one was looking at her anyway. “Oh, right. Sounds exactly like you.”

The detective treated them both to a quick frown, but kept right on talking. “You find them together, decide Ms. Stuart has been cheating, or at least engaging in a serious flirtation, and you get furious.”

Lexy was tired of being the loose woman in this scenario. “Did you miss the part where I said wait a second?”

“You have every reason to be angry with Ms. Stuart for betraying you. And, understandably, you’re jealous of Tate Carr.”

“Have you spent any time with Tate?” Noah asked.

The detective’s jaw clenched hard enough to make her voice tight. “You’re furious with Ms. Stuart for her behavior, but you’re even angrier at this Henderson guy for daring to touch what’s yours.”

“Do I look angry to you, detective?” Noah asked in a voice as disinterested as his relaxed sprawl in his chair.

But the detective would not be deterred. “Maybe a fight starts. Something you’d expect from your background and the circumstances.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lexy asked, wondering if the detective managed to find out something worth knowing about Noah.

The detective ignored the tension moving around her. “But then everything gets out of control.”

Noah tapped his keys against the table. “Kind of like this theory of yours?”

“You lose it and hit Mr. Henderson harder than you mean to. Maybe he comes at you so you don’t have a choice but to fight back.” The detective’s small smile never reached her eyes. “It’s an accident or self-defense. Either way, it’s understandable and we can work with it.”

“It’s ridiculous.” Lexy did not know everything about Noah, but she knew he did not kill a man and then go out for a light dinner and some dancing.

Noah compartmentalized his life, shutting off the terrible parts, but he was not cold and unfeeling. She just refused to believe that. Scammer or not, there was something under all that muscle.

And then there was the part where she was with him almost every second from the time she left her room the evening before. The only thing on her floor at that point was a carpet and a bunch of clothes.

“Is this something you’re reading from a bad novel?” Noah leaned over as if trying to take a peek at the detective’s notes.

The detective proved faster. She rolled the pages into her palm to hide whatever hid there. “If you tell me about the fight, about what really happened in Ms. Stuart’s room last night, I can do something.”

“Like what?” Noah asked.

As far as Lexy was concerned, now was not the time for Noah’s odd sense of humor. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I might be able to help you, Mr. Paxton. But I can’t do that if you don’t level with me.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“After all, no one could blame you for protecting your fiancée.”

Noah shot Lexy a huge smile. “Notice how she used fiancée that time.”

“Because she’s trying to trick you.” Either way, Lexy thought the semantics battle was misplaced at that moment. “And we are not arguing about our relationship status now.”

He shrugged. “Seems like as good a time as any to me.”

“Self-defense. Defense of Ms. Stuart here. Tell me the scenario. We’ll see if we can make it work with the forensics.” The detective clenched the papers even tighter as she butted back into the conversation.

“You want me to lie?” Noah asked.

“I want to understand what really happened. Why we found a man on Ms. Stuart’s floor. Believe it or not, Mr. Paxton, I’m here to help.”

Lexy knew a line of crap when she heard one. “You can’t possibly think Noah did something to Henderson.”

For the first time during the conversation, the detective looked directly at Lexy. Almost through her. “Give me another theory to explore. For instance, we could talk about the papers found in your room, Ms. Stuart. Would you like to hear my theory about those?”

Lexy had feared this moment would come. Despite her protests, Noah had not let her grab any personal items before the police arrived last night. She was not in the state of mind to plan ahead and sneak items out. Now she had an even bigger mess to hide.

“My papers are confidential.”

“Some. Others struck me as more personal than work-related. And some of them are missing.” Detective Sommerville glanced over at Noah. “Anything you want to say about that, Mr. Paxton?”

Noah did not even flinch. “No.”

“You’re blaming Noah for the fact your people lost my papers?” Lexy asked.

“We have photographs of the scene. You can see certain items in some shots and not in others.”

“There were a lot of people in and out of the room last night,” Noah said.

“But, interestingly enough, the documents in question disappeared right after you were allowed to go into the room and get a sweater for Ms. Stuart.”

“Coincidence,” Noah said in a clipped tone.

Lexy peeked over at Noah. If papers were taken from her room, that was news to her. And if Noah had them, he wasn’t talking.

The mess just got messier.

“I’m still digging, but I warn you both that I’ll figure out all of the connections. I’ll get to the bottom of this situation.” The detective’s soft, even tone proved far more threatening than the yelling she’d engaged in the evening before.

“Maybe you should check into Henderson’s past instead of mine,” Lexy suggested.

“I plan to do both.”

Now there was a case of “be careful what you wish for.” Having the detective dig around at all spelled trouble. Lexy wanted to be the only person in the room poking around into Henderson’s past.