Dangerous Kisses (Siren Publishing Classic) (7 page)

She lifted a shoulder and met his gaze. “From what I know about Brandon, he loves this place, too. If I’m not mistaken, I believe he holds a few more shares in the company than Walter and Joan, too, and therefore primary control now that Paul is gone. Maybe he will decide to reopen, keep it going.”

“Paul’s shares will fall to Marie, though,” Drake pointed out. “That means the control will fall into her hands. I don’t how much you know, but things have been pretty rough between them for a while now, worse than they’ve ever been.”

“You’re referring to his affair with Joan.” She made a sound that might have been laughter, but sounded closer to a scoff. “I can’t believe him. What was he thinking?”

“Who knows?” Drake sure as shit didn’t. He would’ve never thought in a million years that Paul would cheat on Marie, no matter how unhappy their marriage had become.

Megan stopped walking and turned to face him, shielding her eyes from the sun with the palm of her hand. “I’ll admit that I’ve never cared much for Marie. I’ve always thought Paul could do better, find someone who would make him happier. Even so, she loved him. Somewhere in that bitchy black heart of hers, she cared for him deeply. She knew what this place meant to him, how hard he struggled to build it and keep it running. I’ve got to believe that, if she can find a way to keep it going, she’ll do it, if for no other reason than to keep his memory alive.”

She had pulled her long hair into a ponytail, and a stray strand had escaped. Drake pushed that hair behind her ear, enjoying the way her head angled into his touch. “I hope you’re right.”

He didn’t tell her about his idea of how to save the aquarium if it came down to it. He wasn’t yet sure he could pull it off. He had a small inheritance in the bank. Nothing substantial, but money left to him by his late grandmother that he had never touched. He had been stashing money in the bank for years, too, scrimping and getting by on bare necessities so he could save every penny he could put back. At first, he hadn’t known why he was doing it. Something he couldn’t define had compelled him to start, and he had continued to see it through. When the rumors of a possible buyout had started to trickle down the grapevine, he had started thinking. He didn’t have near enough to purchase the place, wasn’t even sure he had enough for a substantial share, but he did have enough to weasel his way in if Marie and Brandon stayed on board.

* * * *

Drake amazed her. He hadn’t once mentioned his own part in this, how if the aquarium closed for good he would be out of a job or what he would do if that happened. With his background and degrees, he could easily find another job that would be far better than his position at the aquarium. She knew he had signed on at the aquarium, stayed all these years, because he loved it. He had to be feeling like a part of himself had been ripped out last night with little hope of being repaired.

By the light of day, he looked ten times more dangerous, more forceful, and god help her, more appealing than ever. Flashbacks of last night hit her as she studied him. Her gaze fell to his hands, to his long fingers that had curled around her wrists and held her against the wall. Her attention slid to his right thigh, and her pussy spasmed in remembrance of the hard, toned muscle pressing against her sopping pussy lips. She pulled her focus back up, locked her gaze on his lips and her own tingled with the need to taste again, to be devoured again.

She pushed last night from her mind and started walking. “I hope I’m right, too.” She paused at the front door of the building, allowed him to open it for her, and stepped inside.

The sense that she had just stepped into a morgue swept over her as she moved into the eerie silence of the empty lobby. On a normal day, the lobby would be filling with people in less than an hour. Employees would bustling about, making the last preparations for the nine o’clock opening time.

Today isn’t a normal day.

“Everyone must be at the tank.” Drake’s hand came to rest on the small of her back. Electric bolts zinged through her at the possessive touch, looping through her system and tying a knot of need in her pussy. He steered her toward the employee doors across the lobby and down the hall to the tank room.

Megan heard voices as they walked inside and topped the stairs. She caught the tail end of a sentence that surprised her even as the hope she had been feeling grew stronger.

“…after the mess is cleaned up, I want to reopen, as early as tomorrow if at all possible.”

Megan stepped further into the tank room, her attention instantly landing on Bandon’s back where he stood talking with Cusack at the edge of the tank.

Cusack’s gaze flicked her way, moved passed her, and filled with an immediate distain. “As it stands right now, I don’t see a reason why you can’t.” His focus moved to her again, but his words were obviously meant for Brandon.

“You’re talking about reopening tomorrow?” Drake dropped his hand from her back and walked passed her, his steps nearly silent as he strode onto the metal grating around the tank.

Brandon turned to look at him and nodded. “I want to and the sergeant here has just told me I can.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want it to seem insensitive, our reopening so soon after Paul’s death, but frankly we can’t afford to be closed. We’re losing money every second there isn’t a customer in this place.”

“The reports of Paul’s attack hit the news hard last night,” Megan commented, joining the men at the edge of the tank. “It was still on every channel this morning.” She had turned on the television while she quickly dressed before leaving her apartment. Every local news broadcast had highlighted the attack. “I’m surprised the parking lot out there isn’t full of people trying to get in.”

“When it hits the news that they can, they will be,” Brandon predicted. “And I know this will sound tactless but, from a business standpoint, we need to take advantage of the publicity.” He turned toward Megan and took her hands in his. “This place was Paul’s heart and soul. We both know that. He died here last night, but he was doing what he loved most. I want to see that continue.”

Megan smiled, comforted by his consoling words. “Then we will do what we can to see that it happens.” She pulled her hands from Brandon’s and moved closer to the edge of the tank. Deep below the slightly pink water, the tiger shark swam slowly around the circumference of the tank as if today were just another day.

It was an accident. A horrible one that left no one at fault but the shark.

Cusack had been half right on the phone last night. What happened to Paul had been a horrible accident, but no one had been left at fault, not even the shark. It didn’t know it had done anything wrong. It only knew Paul had somehow provoked it to attack, and it had reacted in its natural, instinctive way.

“We’ll have to drain the tank first,” she said aloud to no one in particular. “It will be easier to capture the fish, rays, and the smaller sharks. We can work on moving the big boy to the holding tank while that’s happening.”

“Terry and Mark are in the control room about to start on that now,” Brandon told her.

“We might have to tranquilize the tiger shark,” Drake said, moving next to her. “I don’t like doing it, but it could be the only way to move it safely.”

Megan glanced at him. “Let’s not if we don’t have to.”

He nodded once. “When Tracey gets back, we’ll put her operating the lift. You and I will go diving, guide the shark into the harness, and make sure it’s secure before Tracey starts to lift it. You up for that?”

In other words, am I up for going diving with the fourteen-foot tiger shark that attacked Paul last night?

“Yeah, I’m up for it. Let me go suit up and we’ll get started.”

* * * *

Drake ran a hand through his hair and gazed into the now-empty shark tank. It was late afternoon by the time they got the fish, rays, and sharks moved to the holding tank. Everything had run smoothly like clockwork, each act methodical and skillfully achieved. Terry and Mark didn’t have the extensive education or experience that he and Megan had, but they understood what to do and listened when instructed how to do it.

“We’ll take a quick break, then get this tank cleaned out so we can refill it and get everything back in.”

They would be here half the night. He had expected that. What he hadn’t foreseen was being rushed to get the job finished so the exhibit would be ready for viewing tomorrow. It could be done, it
would
be done, but they still had a lot of work ahead of them to make it happen.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned and couldn’t help but laugh. Megan had pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, bent over at her waist, and was shaking her head like a dog, her long blonde strands slinging water everywhere.

She straightened, met his gaze, and grinned.

“Feel better?”

She nodded. “Much. If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to get started on cleaning out these grates around the tank. I’ve still got too much energy for a break.”

Drake waved a hand toward the grating beneath his feet. “Be my guest. Some way to spend your first day of vacation, huh?”

She pursed her lips, seeming to think about that for a moment. “You know I’m enjoying myself. I prefer not to think about the circumstances that put me here, the reason we’re having to do this, but working here again, even for today, was just what I needed.”

Drake suspected he knew exactly what she needed, and it didn’t fall under the category of any sort of work, but he kept the comment to himself. Paul had been right about their shared ambition. His friend had also been right when he said they were channeling it in the wrong direction. He knew because he had spent the last year doing it himself. Burying himself in work had kept his mind off of Megan, off the need churning inside him to be with her, to fuck her.

You could have fucked her last night.

Yes, he likely could have. He didn’t believe she would have stopped him if he had attempted to take it that far. But what would it have done to her? The uncertainty of that was what had forced him to stop. He didn’t want to hurt her, at least not in any way that didn’t deliver her insurmountable pleasure, but did he want to keep her? Hell, did she even want to be kept?

For all he knew, the submissive vixen in his grasp last night had been out for a one-night stand. He could go for that, but he had walked away from her last night wondering if it would be enough.

He watched Megan pull on her diver gloves as she rounded the top of the tank, his gaze drinking in every spectacular contour and toned muscle her wetsuit put on a mouthwatering display. He was letting his attraction to her run the show. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but a part of him he didn’t yet want to acknowledge was starting to whisper that the sensations clawing at his insides went deeper than mere lust.

And that could be a bad thing.

Across the top of the tank, Megan kneeled and laced her fingers through the grate. She lifted the first section, the muscles in her arms flexing as she set it aside. Her brows drew together, and she flattened a hand on the floor, leaning over to peer inside the narrow trough surrounding the top of the tank.

“Drake.” She didn’t look up when she spoke. Instead, her focus remained transfixed inside the trough. She reached her free hand inside, seemed to struggle with something for a second, then sat back on her heels.

The titanium serrated-edge diver’s knife she held up in front of her face made his blood still in his veins.

* * * *

Megan stared at the knife and felt bile rise in her throat. The water in the trough hadn’t been deep. She had spotted the black handle of the knife lodged in a crack in the cement, not realizing exactly what it was until she wrenched it free. Finding a diver’s knife in the employee area of an aquarium was no cause for alarm. Every employee who worked with the sharks and other fish would own one.

But they wouldn’t have one with blood caked on the handle.

Drake’s heavy footfalls clanked on the grate as he hurried toward her. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze slammed into his. The look in his eyes was indefinable, but something in it had her pushing to her feet.

“Stop Tracey and Mark at whatever they’re doing.”
Damn it
, the scene had already been compromised.
Why the fuck didn’t Cusack and his boys find this last night?

Because they hadn’t been looking at it as a murder scene. Cusack had told her he hadn’t seen any evidence that would suggest the attack had been anything other than an accident.

She glanced at the knife in her hand. It damn sure looked like evidence of something else to her.

“Megan, that’s my knife.”

Megan stumbled back a step, her eyes widening as she gaped at Drake. Fear collided with confusion in her blood, sending it pumping furiously through her veins. “It’s yours?”

He nodded slowly. “Look at the bottom of the handle. It has my initials carved into the titanium end cap.”

Megan’s hand wanted to shake as she turned the knife to get a better look at the handle. The letters D and R had been etched into the end cap. She gulped and met his gaze again. “Tell me you dropped this.”