Sunset Flare Read online

  “I won’t be able to concentrate until you do.”

  “I’m not kissing you.” The words tasted like soot coming out of his mouth.

  “Why not?” The offended tone in her voice was adorable.

  “I’m not a man of the night you can order around.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “Now who’s being dramatic? Seriously.”

  “I will help you with the files. Nothing more. Before, during or after. That’s my deal.”

  “Your deal is boring.”

  He didn’t disagree, but held his hand across the table, waiting for the right time to make her breathless, as she put it. “Deal?”

  “I didn’t even want to know what was in these stupid files until you. Technically, it’s all your fault and you owe me. A kiss, in case you can’t read between the lines.”

  He stared her down and repeated, “Deal?”

  “Fine,” she sneered, shaking his hand. “You kiss like an amateur anyway. Like an inexperienced—”

  Gunner sent her a look to stop the insults. He took a step back and turned slightly toward the door. She clamped her mouth shut and sat back down, eyes locked on his.

  Sitting down beside her, his knees knocked into hers. Desire exploded in his chest, and it took all his strength not to lie her on the couch and kiss her senseless.

  Izzy huffed, shoving his leg away and curling her legs underneath her, out of reach. Good thinking. “Keep your hands to yourself, butterfingers,” she snarled.

  Gunner cleared his throat, and reached for the file, only to have their fingers meet on top of the file.

  “You’re doing this on purpose,” she accused, slapping his hand. “I can’t work with you if you’re going to be all handsy.”

  Handsy? Oh, a long night looked promising.

  “Tell me about this file.” He pulled the coffee table closer, looking over the mess she’d made. Cookie or cake crumbs, he wasn’t sure which, lay sprinkled across the surface and more than one dark circle screamed coffee stain. Was she sure she’d read the pages and not mistaken them as napkins?

  Izzy turned serious. “From the files I read the other day—”

  “Two.” She’d read two files.

  She turned her head to glare at him before continuing. “I’m pretty sure there are things missing from my file. I’ve seen my sister’s files and they’re documented like a biography. Every aspect of our lives, each year, each month, sometimes days, are noted in order, but mine isn’t like that.”

  Gunner picked up the pages as she spoke finding them scattered out of order. Twenty-something years all mixed together.

  Oh, Popsicle.

  “It begins with our birth...” She leaned over and ruffled the pages more. It was all Gunner could do not to grab her hand. “...nothing much of importance.” She passed him the pages. “Except the documents proving I’m not Robert’s daughter. The blood test.” Her fingers traced over the paper he held. “It hadn’t felt real until my parents revealed the truth a year back. Some days it still doesn’t. I’ve known Carl’s my dad for so long, and kept the truth hidden from my parents while watching three adults know, pretend and ignore the truth of my paternity. It was surreal. That could be why I can’t call Carl dad. Why I keep my distance...” She looked up at Gunner suddenly, horror sketched across her face. “Wow,” she said slowly. “I did not mean to say that.” She laughed, rising to her feet. “Do you want a drink? I haven’t had a drink in days.”

  He nodded.

  “Scotch?”

  “Sure.”

  He skimmed the papers she’d given him, glancing up between sentences to catch her stretching her lean body as she retrieved glasses from the top shelf in the cupboard. She filled their glasses with ice and knocked her hip against the fridge to shut it.

  Sexy. Gorgeous. Kissable.

  “There are pieces of my file missing, such as the time I’d been missing,” she called over. “No newspaper clippings, no police reports, nothing. I know the story had gone town-wide so why no articles? No report? Not even a notation from Robert.”

  She passed him his drink before crawling back onto the couch. “Suspicious right? Wait, there’s more.” She set her drink down and it sloshed onto the papers. “Oops.” Using her hand, she dabbed the liquid. His mind couldn’t decide whether to cringe at the mess she was making or notice the silky flesh her shorts exposed, testing his lack of restraint.

  He took a mouthful of his drink, letting the liquid burn a path down his throat.

  “It’s here somewhere. Ah-hah!” She turned to him. “I printed this off myself. It’s the article from a local paper after they found me. There’s no mention of Corbin allegedly being in the bush with me. Wouldn’t the first papers have said that? Or did Robert make sure they didn’t? And why would he get involved and keep Corbin’s name out of it? Unless they were hiding something.”

  “Corbin?”

  “Yes. I followed him. Remember, I told you the other night.”

  She’d mentioned a brother but he’d assumed she’d been referring to Marc.

  “He supposedly died not long after that. I heard my parent’s excuses, claiming that hiding him protected him from Robert. But why only Corbin? Why keep the rest of us with Robert if he’s so dangerous? And if they were worried about only Corbin’s path with Robert, my sister Anya, was very close to her dad, why not whisk her away, too?”

  Plausible inquiries.

  “Unless it wasn’t Robert they were hiding Corbin from.”

  Gunner had perceived the direction she was headed long before she’d even said it.

  “I think Corbin leaving had something to do with the night I went missing. I might have been young, but even then, I thought Corbin died because of what we saw. Who we saw. What we heard. The doctors kept telling me no and eventually I stopped talking about it. But just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. That I haven’t thought about it every day since.” She leaned back against the plush cushions.

  Gunner shifted to look at her but didn’t move closer to her. The distance would keep their hands and mouths to each other. He needed to keep it platonic.

  “Who did you see?”

  “I don’t remember anymore. The picture is foggy, the face long gone. A blurry memory the doctors told me hadn’t been a memory at all.”

  “Do you remember what the people you saw said? Or what they were doing?”

  She shook her head. “No. But they talked a lot. More than one man showed up, but I can’t grip any details.” She looked at him and sighed. “How do I put this together if I can’t remember anything? What’s the point in reading my files if nothing jogs my memory?”

  “Trying is tougher than ignoring. Don’t give up so easily.”

  “Did you fight? Whatever you’re hiding from—” She held her hand up. “—and don’t try to deny it. The cameras in the bush, no photos, living alone in the woods. You might be keeping your enemy away, but you’re not fooling me. Did you fight before you settled there? Before you gave up?”

  He couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers. “Did you ever consider I like my life?”

  “Do you?”

  No.

  He didn’t answer but, instead asked, “Do you want my help?”

  “Does your help mean your life is off limits?”

  He answered this time. “Yes.”

  She quietly debated his terms for a moment before diving back into her past. “The second I found out about Corbin being alive I tried to fly him here. I also wanted to fly there. But my parents gave strict orders to give my brother space and time. It’s been over a year since we found out he’s alive and he’s only now agreed to meet with my parents. Am I crazy? Be honest. Am I grasping at straws, looking for a reason to explain my fear rather than accepting I’m simply weak?”

  “You’re not weak.”

  “You saw me out there. I’m a mess. How can the terror I feel be a hallucination? All in my head? I don’t accept it.” She took a deep
breath. “You’re an outsider. What do you think? Am I crazy or is it possible I saw something? Something they sent Corbin away for and destroyed the parts of my files with the truth. My truth.”

  What a messed up family she had to leave her guessing about her past instead of being up front with her. They might not be in the mafia, but if her suspicions were right, he’d bet they were involved in some criminal activity. Unless it all revolved around Robert. Maybe Eliza and Carl were truly blind. What were the odds?

  “I don’t know for sure, but I can go through these with you looking for any signs of a connection.”

  “You sound so positive.”

  “So do you, but you lace it with fear.”

  “Weakness.”

  Gunner tossed her files on the table. “You know what, I’ve had enough of hearing about your weakness. Stand up.” He stood and walked to the open area of her living room. When he looked back at her, she hadn’t moved. Instead, she stared at him. She seemed startled by his abruptness. He said, “Get over here.”

  “Why?” Her eyes lit up. “Is this your move? Are you going to kiss me? Give me a little taste of what’s to come?”

  He groaned. “You sound like a horny teenager.”

  “With you this close, I feel like a horny teenager.” She jumped up then and eagerly skipped over to him, skidding to a stop in front of him and clasping her hands together.

  “I’m going to teach you to protect yourself.”

  Her smile dropped. “I meant I’m emotionally weak.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve already told you that you aren’t, but you are a sissy.”

  She gasped.

  “You can’t even push me into a pool. That I’m standing only inches away from. Pathetic.”

  She gasped again. “You’re like an oversized, terrifying giant and I’m like a sweet little mouse. Giants and mice don’t battle each other.”

  “And people trap mice and stomp on them.”

  Izzy’s mouth dropped open. “Who stomps on a mouse? Do you stomp on mice? Is that what you do in your spare time? That’s awfully giant of you.”

  “Front and centre, Caliendo.” He pointed directly in front of him.

  A seductive smirk found her lips. “Damn, where was this man in the hot tub?”

  “And get your head out of the gutter.”

  She stopped in front of him. “Dude, my head lives in the gutter. It has permanent residency there. Sometimes visiting down south...”

  She continued babbling on and Gunner couldn’t think of a better way to shut her up than pinning her to the floor. So he did just that. In the quick move he intended to teach her, he had her flipped down and onto her back.

  Her surprised shriek echoed across the room, followed by a groan. He lay fully across her body and seized her hands. “For the next ten minutes I want you to stop talking, listen and follow my instructions. Understood?”

  She dropped her smirk. “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?” she asked innocently.

  “Sexual.”

  She sucked in her lips, giving him a serious face. “Yes, sir.”

  “Better.” He stood, pulling her to her feet. “Quiet, listen, follow exactly what I say and learn.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE SUNRISE OFFERED glimpses of soft illumination through the sheer curtains. Morning had arrived. It was almost six.

  All night he’d given himself ten-minute intervals to doze off and rejuvenate his mind between hours of mentally filing and storing the information in Izzy’s file. He’d abandoned his drink and kept the coffee maker topped up instead, refilling his mug and maintaining a steady, absorbing pace. But now, the sun had begun to rise and he wondered if he’d fallen asleep longer than intended? He couldn’t remember the last hour he’d glanced at the clock.

  If he didn’t move, he’d be late. Unless, of course, Anton and Marc had headed down earlier this morning. It wouldn’t be the first time. Right now, in his predicament, being late seemed like the least of his problems.

  He didn’t want to move from his stretched out position on Izzy’s sofa. Not because the comfort of the cushions eased his body into a cozy solitude—this sofa had been purchased in regards to looks not comfort. His damn back ached like an old man’s, and his neck could thank his arm for propping underneath, saving him from neck cramps. Soreness, another minor problem compared to the bigger picture: he’d fallen asleep with Izzy.

  Hell, he hadn’t a clue how he’d ended up in this position without his body alerting him. Heavy sleep never seized him during the night. Not anymore. This, right here, right now, with Izzy curled up beside him, limbs tangled, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his chest, were all signs his ordinarily attentive body was going soft.

  As he tilted his head, a whiff of her sweet scent kissed him good morning. He gently moved strands of silky hair off the side of her face, tucking it away and shifting to get a better look at her.

  This scenario wasn’t anything like the night they’d spent at the cabin where fear had overcome her and he’d been on high alert in case her fears were more real than she believed. Today felt personal, triggering strange sensations inside him. It didn’t help that he noticed how perfectly she fit in the crook of his arm, or the heat searing his skin from where her fingertips had snuck through the slits between the buttons of his shirt.

  He dropped the stupid ass smirk into a snarl. He needed to get out of here. Now. He should have packed up her files and left her after he’d shown her the couple defense moves to practice in case the day came when she might need to defend herself. Unfortunately, he didn’t doubt the day would come. She wasn’t an ordinary person and not simply because her trust fund could buy an entire province food for a year. That, in itself, singled her out. But her roots were where the real danger lingered, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

  He sighed, annoyed with his deep thoughts at this early hour. He was in need of caffeine, a shower, and a deep reality check.

  What in the hell was he doing sleeping with her? Not sexually even, emotionally. He bloody hell emotionally had slept with her, even if she hadn’t a clue. He’d ignored all the signs that pointed to bad news: staying here longer than he should have, not wanting to move.

  Shit.

  He was experiencing feelings for her.

  Shit

  Emotional, heart flipping, body numbing, caring, protective, loving feelings.

  Shit!

  His jerky movement woke her.

  Could this morning possibly get any worse?

  He needed out. Now. Then he needed distance between them or a chaperone. Yes. A chaperone was exactly what they needed between them and the best men for the job were Anton and Marc. If Izzy and Gunner planned on acting like goddam teenagers who needed an escort supervising their interactions, then he planned on making sure they weren’t ever alone again without one.

  He stilled as her supple body stretched across him before easing back alongside him in flawless harmony. He thought again about that cold shower.

  Her eyes fluttered shut again, her long lashes sweeping her velvety skin. “Are you leaving?” she murmured.

  His eyes dropped shut at how damn sexy her morning voice sounded and he muttered an unfriendly, “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She rolled away from him, curling her backside against his front. It was all he could do not to moan and wrap his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. But he didn’t move.

  Damn, he was in trouble on so many levels.

  Time stretched by and her breathing steadied again. She’d fallen back to sleep. He started to curse himself again when, finally, his body conducted some common sense and climbed off the couch.

  He grabbed his coffee mug, running his other hand over his face, and headed into her kitchen. No doubt Anton would be awake and there’d be silent disappointment awaiting him. He deserved it, but this would be the last time.

  He set the mug in the sink, tur
ning on the faucet and splashing cold water against his face. Just the morning wakeup call he needed because when he returned to the living room, he was more prepared for Izzy.

  “Did you find anything?” Her voice sounded half asleep.

  He sat on the edge of the coffee table beside her. “Yes.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and a long yawn escaped her lips. “What?”

  Even if he explained her file in detail, she’d forget in her groggy state. “Listen, come by the library today and we can talk there.”

  Good, parental guidance in motion.

  “Marc will be there. I don’t want him to know I’m evaluating my file.”

  And fail.

  Izzy sat up, leaning against the couch and rubbing her overly drowsy eyes. “Tell me now.”

  How could he squeeze the details of her entire life into the course of ten minutes? He couldn’t. But he detailed the holes that didn’t make sense, and the missing parts that might be incorporated into others files in the basement. In the end, he told her to come to the library’s basement and read the files until something clicked. He prayed she would take his advice.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  IZZY DIDN’T SHOW. Gunner had given her two days of space. He’d hoped she’d convinced herself into coming back to the library’s basement where the files waited for her.

  But she was a no show.

  Good. Good riddance, in fact. He didn’t need the extra hassle of figuring out her past. Hell, he hadn’t needed the hassle of pulling off an all-nighter to read her goddamn file in the first place. And for what? Absolutely nothing. For her to simply throw away her opportunity to find the answers she’d been searching for her whole life.

  Bullshit. That woman ticked him off to his deepest core. Maybe spoiled rotten had been an accurate term. Careless. Wild. Brat.

  Anton, Marc and Gunner quit working just before six. Marc had a prior engagement and instead of handcuffing Popsicle back to the chair, he had locked the library and told them to charge supper to him. They could choose one of the on-site restaurants they frequented or could order in. They chose to order in.