Page 90 of Guarded from Treachery

Beneath me, I feel Matt hardening, his length nudging at me.

I wriggle my hips and he jerks beneath me. One big hand comes to my breast and plumps it, his fingers lightly plucking at my nipple.

Delicious sensations flood through me, chasing away my fear and anxiety and replacing them with arousal and breathless anticipation.

Maybe we could sneak in a quick round in the bedroom before Dante gets here?

Matt didn’t say when he was coming over. We might have time.

Then the doorbell rings.

Crap. I guess not.

As Matt heads to the door to answer it, he adjusts himself, hiding his rather obvious erection. Unfortunately, I’m only wearing a thin T-shirt that doesn’t do much to disguise my nipples, so I grab the throw draped across the back of the couch and hug it to my chest, doing my best to look casual about it.

Right. Like clutching a blanket to my chest is normal? If it was cold, maybe. But Matt’s apartment is a balmy seventy degrees and definitelynotblanket weather.

Once Matt sits back down next to me, he casts a quick glance at the blanket. At first, he looks puzzled. A beat later, realization dawns. A satisfied smirk curves his lips.

Dante takes the armchair across from us and looks first at Matt, then me. Amusement lights his eyes for a moment. A beat later, his expression sobers. He takes a deep breath and lets it out before saying, “So. I’ve been talking with the police and the FBI all morning. And we have lots of news.”

Matt slides his arm around me and tugs me into his side. His body is rigid with tension. “And what did you find out?”

Dante lifts his chin at Matt. “I spoke to Cruz. And he gave me the majority of the information.” To me, he explains, “Cruz is a friend of ours. He works in the local FBI office. So he’s kind of an unofficial liaison to B and A.”

I nod at him. “Okay.”

“Well.” He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. “Fortunately, once the two men from the store realized the extent of the charges they’re facing, they were eager to talk. In fact, Cruz told me that they were throwing their colleagues under the bus as fast as they could in hopes of leniency.”

Matt scowls. “Leniency? They held a gun to a pregnant woman. Threatened to shoot her. They should be locked up for as long as possible.”

“I agree,” Dante replies, “and trust me, they’ll be punished. Cruz mentioned lengthy sentences for assault, attempted kidnapping, breaking and entering… But if they get out a few years sooner by talking—” His lips compress into a line. “I know it’s not ideal.”

“But if it stops the people behind this,” I say, “then it’s worth it.” I meet Dante’s gaze. “Did they know? The two men? Or were they hired on the dark web, too?”

“The fucking dark web,” Matt mutters under his breath. A beat later, he flashes me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Isles. I’m just?—”

For a second, my attention shifts back to Matt and how sweet he is. Not once have I complained about him cursing—I don’t do it much, myself, but I’m definitely not offended—but he still insists on trying to avoid it when he’s around me.

“I know.” I catch his hand and give it a little squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“They weren’t hired online,” Dante answers. “Finally. In a stroke of luck, or maybe a foolish act of desperation, they were actually hired in person. Darius Whitley and Hank McMaster were long-time employees of the man who partnered with Remington. And when it came down to them taking the fall or the millionaire who hired them, they didn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus.”

Nervous flutters erupt in my chest. “So itwasMr. Remington behind it?”

“Remington and an attorney named Stewart Day.” Dante glances at his phone again. “Day is a partner with a firm in Dallas.Apparently, he and Remington were fraternity brothers. And when Day was going through a costly divorce a few years ago, they came up with the idea together.”

“Are they certain?” Matt asks. “Whitley and McMaster could be making this up, after all. Trying to find someone else to pin the blame on.”

Dante shakes his head. “Cruz said they provided other names, too. Nurses. Doctors. Whitley even knew about Milton Oaks and his involvement with the fertility clinic. The FBI arrested half a dozen people based on Whitley and McMaster’s information, and a nurse and doctor already confessed to everything.”

A grim smile touches his lips. “Apparently, they had no problem going along with this sick plan when they were getting paid. But once they got in front of the FBI interrogators… it was a whole different story.”

Matt’s jaw could cut glass. “And what about Day? Is he in custody?”

“He is,” Dante confirms. “They brought him in last night. He’s not talking yet, but according to Cruz, the evidence against him so far looks good.” He pauses. Frowns. “The FBI discovered some… interesting findings when they searched Day’s property.”

The way he says interesting doesn’t sound promising to me. It sounds sinister. Scary. And something I’m sure not to like. My voice wobbles as I ask, “What did they find?”

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