Mine to Keep (Mine #2)(10)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Sunlight glinted off his blond hair, and his gaze swept over her. “It’s good to see you, too.” He surprised her by pulling her into his arms and giving her a big hug. “Damn good. Because the last time I saw you…” A rough sigh broke from him as he eased back a bit and stared down at her. “You were lying unconscious in a hospital bed.”

That response surprised her. “You came to see me in New York?” The time after her abduction was a blur for her. She’d gone too long without food. Spent too much time in the darkness.

She’d come too close to death.

Alex nodded. “I needed to see for myself that you were all right.” Now he frowned. “Weston didn’t tell you I was there?”

No. He hadn’t.

Alex dropped his hold. Stepped back fully. This time, when his gaze swept over her, his attention locked on her left hand.

Or, more specifically, on the ring there.

“I’m sure…” Reese cut in, clearing his throat from behind them, “that Trace was more concerned with Skye here healing…and not giving her a full visitor listing.”

Alex didn’t glance at the other man. “Should I congratulate you, Skye?”

Her throat felt dry. There was something about his tone. A hard edge that worried her. “Yes,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “Trace and I—we’re together now and—”

“As if he’d have it any other way.” Alex’s growled words definitely held anger.

“Watch it,” Reese warned him. “Cop or no cop, you—”

Alex shook his head and kept staring at Skye. “As good as it is to see you—awake, aware, and not looking like death anymore—I’m actually here on business.”

They were still standing in the doorway. Skye backed up and bumped into Reese. “What kind of business?”

“I transferred to homicide.”

Uh, okay. She circled around him and shut the door. Her fingers flipped over the lock.

“Thought it was time for a change.”

“Congratulations.” That was the right response, wasn’t it? From the sound of things, he’d taken a new job, so she was supposed to congratulate him.

Just as he should have congratulated her.

Alex’s gaze cut to Reese. “Can your guard give us a minute? We need to talk, alone.”

“I don’t think—” Reese said.

“It’s fine, Reese.” She walked toward him and patted his arm. “Why don’t you just go and—well, take a few moments to relax?” Right, like the guy ever relaxed. She’d sure never seen it.

One brow lifted, but Reese gave a curt nod. “If you need me, I’ll be close.” Then, after one last, measuring glance at Alex, he was gone.

Alex didn’t speak, not at first. After a few tense moments, he exhaled and asked, “Still under guard duty?”

Because she’d thought the exact same thing, Skye’s words held bite as she told him, “It’s just a precaution, only for a few days. We just wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any trouble from the press.”

“And the fact that Weston has a shitload of enemies? Deadly enemies? That has nothing to do with the bodyguard detail?”

His tone was scaring her. “You said you had business to talk about…” And he was homicide now. Oh, damn, this couldn’t be good.

“Does the name Ben Sharpe mean anything to you?”

Ben. The man’s face flashed before her. The feverish intensity of his eyes. The certainty in his voice.

He’s here. Watching. I know!

“You know him,” Alex said, apparently reading the truth on her face.

“We met last night,” she said as she rubbed at the knot of tension in the back of her neck. “Briefly.”

He stepped closer to her. “And was Weston there for this little meeting?”

“Ah, yes. He was. Trace and Ben knew each other from—”

The front door swung open with a creak. Her gaze flew to the door. She’d been sure that she locked it—

Trace stood in the doorway.

Of course, he’d have his own key.

“Griffin.” Trace bit out the cop’s name. “You moved fast.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Guess you heard, huh? Or did the bodyguard call you and tell you to haul ass over here?”

“I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t have to haul ass that much.” Trace closed the distance between them. He put his body next to Skye’s but kept his attention on the detective. “You shouldn’t be questioning Skye. She doesn’t even know Ben.”

Alex’s brow shot up again. “Really? Because she was just telling me that she did. Skye said that she met him last night, with you.”

The tension between the two men was palpable.

“What is going on?” Skye demanded as she threw her hands up in the air. “Why are you asking these questions about Ben?”

But she already knew. The twist in her gut told her the truth, and she didn’t really want to hear it. She didn’t want to hear Alex say—

“Ben Sharpe’s body was found this morning, tossed away like garbage in an alley.”

Her hands fell to her sides.

So it would seem that Ben hadn’t been so crazy after all. “He said someone was watching him,” she whispered.

“Did he now…?” Alex drawled.

Her knees were trembling. “How did you know we were connected to him?”

“It was pretty easy to follow the dots.” Alex inclined his head toward her. “The guy had a picture of you—some grainy shot torn from a newspaper—in his pocket.”

She’s your mistake, and she’s going to destroy you. Ben’s words replayed in her mind.

“And, of course, there was the business card.” Now Alex’s attention shifted to Trace. “Your business card, Weston. A card that was gripped tightly in the dead man’s hand.”

Her heart raced in her chest. “Wh-when did Ben die?”

“The medical examiner says it was last night, sometime between midnight and two a.m.”

Trace had been gone after midnight.

“Now…see…that’s not really the question that I expected you to ask,” Alex said, and his gaze was right back on her. “Maybe something like…how did he die? But jumping straight to when…that’s not what most folks usually do. Unless, well, unless they’re trying to work out an alibi.” He paused a beat. “Are you doing that, Skye? Are you trying to work out some kind of alibi?”