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  He bit at the top of her breast and then cried out, his hand going to her hips and lifting them just enough to give him total access to her depths, locking them together as he spasmed within her, again and again and again. She cried out, not with a physical orgasm, but with an emotional intensity, a sense of shared purpose, and a sense of connection she’d only ever read about in books.

  Afterwards, he lay beside her, holding her and tracing his fingers through her hair.

  “Thank you,” he said, after a while. “I’m—I didn’t mean to use you quite that much. You seemed to enjoy yourself, though?”

  “I wish everyone who used me did it so well,” she said, only realizing after the words were out how they said so much more than she meant them to.

  He rolled up onto his elbow and she lay back, blinking to clear the moisture that had shown up in her eyes, utterly uninvited. His hand came to her belly, incredibly soft and gentle. She still couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For whatever happened.”

  “It’s not your fault—” It was almost a reflex, now, wasn’t it? But he cut her off right back.

  “Clearly it’s not, because I’ve known you for a day and haven’t done anything that I need to apologize for.” He paused. “At least, not that you’ve told me about. But I’m sorry that it’s something you even have to think about. I’m sorry that there are dudes out there who would treat a lady like that.”

  She shrugged, keeping herself together by the skin of her teeth. “It’s not just dudes. I’ve used people, too.”

  “You using me right now?”

  Caroline looked him in the eyes, finally. She didn’t see any judgment in his gaze, just an honest question. “Maybe a little? The itch needed scratching, but— there’s more there. At least, I think there is. The potential for more, anyway.”

  God, she was acting like an idiot. This guy was not the settling down type, and she was being an idiot to even imagine a world where there was more to this than her helping this guy figure out who was using him to steal money from his motorcycle club and then watching him ride off into the distance. Getting incredibly well laid was just a nice perk that she’d be a fool not to take advantage of.

  He nodded quietly and didn’t say much of anything in return. He lay down again and was silent. After a few minutes, she heard him start to snore gently. She took the chance of kissing him lightly on the lips, then got dressed again and went back out to the kitchen.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  While Mason slept, Caroline stared at the numbers, trying to make sense of how someone could have done this. She’d told Mason the truth—she was much more of a financial advisor than an actual accountant, and she was definitely not a forensic accountant, one of those pros who went into mobster’s accounts and figured out how they were laundering money or skimming the funds.

  But what she needed to figure out what how someone had done this. From there, she could figure out who had access to the information that was needed to frae him, and then it was just a matter of narrowing down the list of people with access to the person who was guilty. At least, that was how it worked on CSI.

  The odds were good that the only thing she should do from here was to tell Mason to take this all to the police. The problem was that she might as well tell him to shove the ledger up his ass and wait to see how long it took for someone to start blackmailing him to steal bigger and bigger sums from the club.

  He’d said that she wouldn’t find proof of illegal activities in the paperwork he’d brought her. That was a far cry from saying the cops wouldn’t be able to find proof. Even in Vermont, there were a couple of forensic accountants in the police department. She’d had to talk to them on occasion when clients from Second Chances turned out to be doing things more nefarious than she’d been told about.

  Setting up a bank account took fake ID at least, and if he was writing checks, he had to be depositing them somewhere. One of those check cashing joints took a hefty percentage, and someone who’d stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars wasn’t going to be sharing that money if they didn’t have to. Most of the local banks wouldn’t open an account online, but some of the online companies would. With a smartphone that let you do mobile depositing, someone could pull that off.

  But thinking it through, Caroline felt her guts twisting with nervousness. This wasn’t the act of someone who’d seen an opportunity, grabbed a bunch of cash, and made a run for it. This was deliberate and careful.

  She had no doubts that drug dealers, no matter how “soft” their dealings, had the connections to buy whatever fake paperwork was necessary to open a bank account. Someone who had the foresight to cover their tracks, to set someone else up as the obvious fall-guy—that was someone who was dangerous.

  “We should go out to lunch,” Mason said from right behind her, and she jumped nearly a foot in the air, choking back a scream. “And then I’ll take this mess off your hands. Call it a good day’s work. I know Munch said that you usually charge a consulting fee for stuff like this, and I’ll get that to you as soon as I get everything sorted out.”

  She waved a hand. “You came to me at work. It’s covered by my salary.”

  “Which must be pretty pathetic. Do-gooders usually get paid crap.”

  “Not all rewards are monetary.” Holy crap, did she always sound like this much of a prissy brat? She at least managed to stop herself from pursing her lips and giving him a superior little glare across the bridge of her nose.

  “Of course they’re not,” he said, laughing. “A person could be motivated by a sense of community, or a higher purpose. They might even feel like they’re making a positive difference in the world, doing what they do.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Yeah, I get it. I wear the leather, I wear the patches, I’ve got the ink. I look like the bad guy on TV. But I’m not, you know? Not any more than I think you’re the stuck up accountant image that you try to project.”

  He shrugged, but she was seeing more tension in him than she liked. “Some philosopher said a thing once about how if you stay in society and reap its benefits, you have to live by the rules of society. I think that’s a bunch of crap. If you’re not comfortable with that, then we should part ways, no harm, no foul.”

  “I—” His shoulders and face were relaxed, but his hands were bunched into fists, his knuckles ice white. She had no idea what to say, and her mouth took over. “You’re in my house.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That can be fixed.”

  “No—” It wasn’t just the sex that made her call out to him, made her reach out for his hand and take it, even though it was still a tight fist. “You’re right. That was a priggish thing to say, and I’m sorry. I— Teddy’s never been willing to talk to me about why he spends so much time with his ‘brothers and sisters.’ We were close, when we were kids, but then something happened, and we weren’t close any more. And I tried to talk to him about why, and got a whole lot of ‘you wouldn’t understand.’”

  Mason’s hand was slowly relaxing in hers. “If it’s what I think—you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Well that’s just fine, Mason, but I would try. Even if I didn’t understand, I would try. And right now, no one’s giving me the chance.”

  She watched his eyes close, saw him take a long deep breath, and then another, and finally his fingers opened up, twining around hers. “As a breed, we tend to have trust issues. Makes it hard to find a place to stick. Makes us sensitive to— to guessing that people are thinking a certain way about us.”

  “I get that,” she said. “When I said that you’re in my house? What I meant to say was that if I thought you were all that stuff, I wouldn’t have let you in the front door. I don’t know all that much about you, but I believe that I can trust you. And I don’t— I don’t trust all that easily either. So I’m sorry for punching your buttons, and I’ll try not to do it again. Okay?”

  He pulled her to her feet, kissing her hard, as if they had
n’t just fucked until she was aching. She whimpered against him, and his hands tightened in her hair. “Damn, woman,” he said into her neck. “Are you trying to make me hard again already?”

  He tilted her head back, the better to expose her throat, and she sighed. “Call it a pleasant side effect?”

  “Pleasant for you,” he growled, and she laughed. He hugged her close, then, and there was an intensity to it that she hadn’t felt in all their sex. And then he stepped away, kissing her lightly on the corner of her mouth, and smiled. “I do mean it, though. You’ve shown me what’s going on. It’s up to me to sort it out from here.”

  “I’m going to make a suggestion you’re going to hate,” she said.

  He nodded. “The cops?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was thinking about it. Weighing the risks.” Mason sat down on the couch in the living room, and Caroline followed him. He was relaxed against the arm of the couch, staring off into the distance. She wanted to curl up into his shoulder, relax against him, but that was something she’d never permitted herself to do before. To be supported by someone else.

  She didn’t know if he saw the desire in her eyes, but he put his arm up on the back of the couch and shifted to make himself more comfortable for her. She took the invitation for what it was and let him draw her in, snuggling close to him. Just for now, she thought. Just for today. She could enjoy this while it lasted, and then let it go when she needed to.

  “If I got to the cops,” he said, his arm tightening around her, “There’s a lot of possibilities. They could take my word that someone’s setting me up and investigate. Or they might not look past it. Someone who thought this far might have put other things in place. Made it look like I was the one who got her social security number to set up a bank account. And if they don’t do that, if they do investigate, and they do see through whatever smoke is in place, then a lot of good men and women who are just doing what they can to get by are going to be in trouble. I don’t want to do that. Not just because they’re my brothers and sisters, but because they’re good people.” He pressed his lips to her hair, and she almost purred. “I have to do my best to deal with this on my own. Going to the police is the last possible option.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Does it really?”

  She took a deep breath and told the truth. “I don’t know if I’d be strong enough to do it, in your shoes. But yeah, it does make sense. I get why you’d do it that way. So how are you going to find out who’s doing all this?”

  Another kiss on her hair, and her eyes were closing. “That’s why we’re going to lunch, and then I’m leaving. Whatever I do, it’s going to be dangerous, and I don’t want anyone involved in it who doesn’t have to be.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  She mumbled a protest, but even she knew it didn’t make sense. He stroked her hair back from her face and shifted again, making her more comfortable. She felt something fall over her back and shoulder, and knew he’d pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around her.

  She woke up, and she knew he was gone before she even opened her eyes. Her head was on a pillow, and her legs were weighed down by the dog, but what told her she was alone was how quiet the house was.

  It shocked her, how much that hurt.

  He’d said he’d leave, to keep her safe, but she hadn’t thought he’d just disappear. She thought maybe he’d at least give her a goodbye kiss. But no. Guys like that— they weren’t big on commitment. He’d told her as much himself. And it was just as well that he hadn’t seen the puddle of drool under her cheek when she woke up. She blinked rapidly, wiping at her eyes. Allergies. Bad this year.

  And then there came a knocking on her door. Her heartbeat kicked up into a rumba. She hadn’t been kidding when she said that the person behind all of this could be dangerous, and there was a reason he’d left. But if he was gone, and there was someone dangerous at the door, would she be able to defend herself?

  Before she had to debate on grabbing the cast iron frying pan from the kitchen, she heard Mason’s voice on the other side of the door. “Caroline? It’s me. Are you okay? Are you awake?”

  She pulled the door open with a quick yank. He slipped inside, his saddlebag slung over his shoulder again. “Where did you go? Is everything okay?”

  He glanced at her, clearly confused. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You were gone,” she said, her arms slipping around her waist. “I woke up and you were gone. I thought— I thought you were gone.”

  “For lunch,” he said, gesturing at the saddlebag, “And to move my bike. It’s distinctive, if someone’s looking for me, and I thought it would be better off parked somewhere, you know, where it wouldn’t lead directly back to you.” He reached out and touched her hair, delicately and softly. “I’ll say good-bye. When it’s time to go. I’ll say good-bye.”

  The moment of tenderness rocked her back on her heels. He smiled deeply, calm and steady, into her eyes, and everything inside of her just melted. All the hurt, all the pain, all the times she’d screwed up with guys, said the wrong thing or been in the wrong place at the wrong time or just had that moment when everything she said fell completely flat as everyone stared at her in total confusion—all of it fell away, and she stood before him, naked and safe and peaceful.

  When he leaned in and kissed her, it was rough, hard, and fast. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, his tongue telling her that he wanted to lick her mouth, instead of asking.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening to him with a sigh, letting him deep inside. “I’ll say good-bye,” he said again, his voice harsh. “I promise, Caro. I won’t leave you wondering. You’re worth so much more than that to me.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she said. “I’m a pain in the ass. I’m demanding. I’m awkward in social situations. I don’t know anything but numbers.”

  “You’re a wildcat in bed, and you’re trying to help me out of what could be the worst situation in my life.” He grinned, touching his forehead to hers. “I don’t know what’s come before for you, and I don’t know what comes next for me, but I’m here now. I’m not going yet.”

  She relished him for one more moment, and then took the step back that they both needed. He tried to hold her for a moment, but then released her with a quiet nod.

  “So what’s our next step, do you think?” Mason said. “I could just start hitting heads together until someone talks, but that’s not the most reliable plan, especially if you think this guy could be dangerous.”

  “I think we find the account these are going to,” Caroline said, smoothing her hair down and finding a smile. “We find out who opened it. And that tells us who the ringleader is.” She sighed, looked away, and looked back. “It is possible that there’s more than one of the brothers involved. Something this complex, going on this long… it’s very likely we’ve just uncovered the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Okay. How do we do that?”

  She thought a moment, and then she started to smile. “I think I know a guy who knows a guy.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  A normal person wouldn’t have worked on Saturday just to keep client files up to snuff, update the company blog, and search out new resources that might be of help to the start-ups in their area. But then, no one at Second Chances was exactly normal. Caroline knew exactly where she’d find Jack. She didn’t even text ahead.

  Mason insisted on driving in with her, just in case she encountered any kind of trouble along the way. She didn’t argue. It was sweet. And she couldn’t argue for the danger of the whole situation on one hand, and then refuse the need for protection on the other. It wouldn’t fly.

  He did agree to wait in the car, though, while she went inside to talk to Jack.

  Jack was at his desk, and he didn’t look up when the bell jingled. They kept the office door locked on Saturdays so that they could actually get some work done, so jingles meant
that someone was coming in with keys, which, on Saturday, was either Caroline or Jack. Everyone else found better ways to spend their weekends and worked later during the week. “Caroline,” he called out in greeting.

  “Jack,” she called back. It was only when she picked up the chair in front of his desk, dragged it around to the side, and plopped down into it that he looked up. “I need a favor,” she said.

  “So, you’re asking me to find out what account these were deposited to, who did the depositing, and who owns the account? As well as anything else I can find out?” Jack whistled through his teeth. “Caro, that’s a hell of a tall order.”

  “I know it is,” she said, smiling to herself at the way he’d picked up the nickname, the same way Mason had. “I’ll owe you big time.”

  “It’s not just that it’s hard to get information. This stuff is protected for a reason.”

  “They’re using his dead sister against him.”