Page 63 of His Deadly Lies

I show Carter the room, taking a slow stroll around the perimeter before landing right back in front of Rafel’s desk, where he’s conversing in low tones with Archie, our tech guru.

“I’ve been tasked with checking the stops where we’ve lost goods previously,” Rafel tells me without hesitation.

And I have to wonder who set him on it. Papa, more than likely.

“Here is a map of the stops, as well as several other suspicious activities we’ve marked as hits,” Archie continues as he slides a sheet of paper toward me. “Seemed like the most likely places for someone to approach the drivers, using their families as collateral.”

I stare at it, grabbing a pen and marking Meridian on there.

Someone drugged me. If that doesn’t count as something suspicious, then I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

“It’s a smaller circle than I thought,” I say out loud. “Most of the targeted stops are along Highway 60 from Arizona to here.”

A small radius, always along the same route, and getting closer to a cluster of bright red dots added by my man. “What’s here?” I ask, pointing.

“Industrial facilities. A handful of them.” Rafel digs into a stack beside his desk and hands off the folders. “Before you ask, yes, I pulled all the ones that are large enough to house the goods cleanly. You’ve got six buildings total.”

“We thought it would be a good place to start, on the ground,” Archie agrees.

He looks like a surfer dude from California, and he’s the most talented person I’ve ever seen when it comes to computers and technology.

“Also, I’m running a search for your reporter,” he continues. “When I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“We’ve got this covered, Miss Mia. We’ll figure it out.” Rafel is adamant.

I’m much too aware of Carter pressing closer behind me when I loop my arms around Rafel in a loose hug. “You are brilliant, and I don’t deserve you.” I smile at Archie. “Either one of you.”

Both are true statements.

Rather than answering me when I lean back, Rafel sets his sights on Carter and narrows his eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns the older man. “The moment I’m cleared, you’ll be relieved.”

His defensiveness has me grinning. “And it can’t happen too soon. This one drives like a grandmother,” I reply. Turning, I slap the folders against Carter’s chest so that he’s forced to take them from me. “I’ll keep you posted, Rafel.”

Carter follows only a few footsteps behind on our way out.

This time when the elevator doors close, I allow a secret smile. “Your hands are full of paperwork,” I tell Carter. “Maybe now you’ll be able to keep them to yourself.”

18

CARTER

KEEP MY HANDS TO MYSELF.

She wants to talk about accomplishing the impossible?

There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself, especially when I can still feel her on me. Still taste her.

Even with the folders, I want to let them flutter to the ground like dying leaves and take her again. Just to feel the way her legs tighten around me as she presses her heat against my hardness. Just to revel in the softness of her skin and maybe cross another line, a toe over, and taste other parts of her besides her mouth.

Such a pretty girl. And the mouth on her.

There is something about Mia that tantalizes me. Gorgeous, off-limits, untouchable, and utterly intoxicating.

My eyes land solidly on her ass as she keeps her back to me, the space in the elevator tight and hot, making it hard to breathe. Once we’re upstairs, I grab her by the back of the neck, the tips of my fingers biting lightly into her skin, and steer her down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“You’re not going anywhere until you eat,” I ground out.

“You planning on spoon-feeding me?” she asks.

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