Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies by Cynthia Cooke Page B

even now, even as he stared into her brilliant eyes, flushed cheeks, and plump red lips…he still wanted to kiss her. To yank her up against him and ravish that mouth and remind her how damn good they’d been together, to show her exactly what she’d thrown away.
    But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed her away, disgusted with himself.
    “Yes, I was at the warehouse,” she said, her eyes glittering. “And yeah, I turned off my GPS. But I did not see Becca. I was not the reason Emerich got away. But you never believed that. You doubted my loyalty! You all did. And you clearly still doubt me. So excuse frickin’ me if I don’t have a lot of faith in you right now, either. Deal with it . I have.” She whirled, and stalked away from him.
    Fists clenched, he stared after her incredulously. So this was all his fault?
    “We could have talked about it. Sorted it out,” he said, striding after her. “But instead, you chose to run away, to lose yourself. You just threw us away like yesterday’s—”
    He broke off his tirade abruptly. It didn’t matter if she felt betrayed or if he felt hurt and abandoned. Because neither of them could change the past—his doubts about her, her doubts about him.
    The worst part of all was that she was right. All this time, he’d been absolutely certain she’d warned Becca. That she was the reason Emerich had gotten away.
    Damn. What if he’d been wrong?
    He caught up to her and grasped her arm again, more gently this time.
    “I’m not leaving,” he said firmly.
    She turned back to him looking wary, worn out, and defeated all at once. “Kyle—”
    “Don’t even bother,” he said, slamming closed the lid on his unwanted emotions, receding back into that cold, professional they both wanted him to be. “Just open the damn box.”
    …
    Reluctantly Genie stared at him. She could see it was no use arguing, or trying to keep Kyle from seeing whatever her father had left her. She placed the box on the kitchen counter and opened it.
    It was like she’d been sucker-punched. The first thing she saw was a bundle of pictures of her mother, tied together with a pink ribbon. Pictures of her smiling, young, on her wedding day, and one with her holding her three babies. With an uneven breath, Genie set them aside. Beneath them was a newspaper clipping. An article about the disappearance of a scientist.
    She frowned, lifting it to read the caption. The scientist’s name was Tom Garrison.
    “Who is that?” Kyle asked, looking over her shoulder.
    Genie shook her head, and handed him the article. “I don’t know.” She continued looking through the box, but there was nothing else of interest. Without untying the ribbon, she gingerly placed the pictures back into the box and carefully closed the lid. As Kyle scanned the article, she wondered how she was going to slip away from him to go to the other side of the island and find her father. His guess about her reasoning for her renewed interest in ditching him had been absolutely correct, and the man wasn’t about to willingly let her out of his sight. As he perused the clipping, she thought about what he’d said earlier.
    And what he hadn’t said. Or done.
    He’d wanted to kiss her. She was sure of it.
    He’d been furious at her, probably even hated her, and yet he’d still wanted to hold her and kiss her. His desire , his heat, had been rolling off him in hurricane force waves. It wouldn’t have taken much and she’d have given in to him, given in to her own desires.
    Not good. She had to stay strong, to stay on course, and send him away. But his want, his need for her, had roared through her, and settled deep in her midsection, making her insides flutter and throb with the hope of it. Hell, she’d wanted him to kiss her. No matter how much she’d been railing against him, letting him get under her skin, hating the very thought of him being there with her, reporting back to Cameron, she’d needed him to kiss her. To pull her into his