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"I have never lied to you," he snapped.
"Then you don't have to find a way to delay or avoid the question. " Her slim shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, though her demeanor was anything but.
Rubbing the cloth over the scented soap, his luscious little lover began washing delicate, silken flesh with rough strokes. Khalid almost winced at the force she used. He would have stroked her, caressed her, washed her with delicate sensuality and much pleasure.
"Deerfield believes you and your brother Abram shared, then murdered, his first wife. "
Khalid's gaze jerked up in shock. "This has nothing to do with the investigation. "
Marty watched as Khalid turned his back on her and soaped a cloth with a bar of creamy soap that she knew was made especially for him.
When he was finished, the soap was slammed back onto its small tile shelf. With rough, furious strokes he began to wash himself silently, his shoulders tense, the air in the shower suddenly thick with tension.
"It's not your place to decide if this pertains to the investigation," she informed him. "Vince Deerfield knows about it, and he was particularly volatile over the subject. I want to know what happened, Khalid. "
"This has nothing to do with us. " His tone was icy. Despite the warmth of the water flowing over her, Marty could feel the chill of it licking over her flesh.
"Do you really want me to get my answers in other ways, Khalid? Do I have to search for them?"
She watched as the cloth stilled for a moment. When it resumed, it was with efficient deliberation. He washed, tossed the cloth to the corner of the shower, then stepped beneath the spray once again to rinse.
Amazingly, he was hard. His cock stood out stiff and heavy from his body, the thick, engorged crest throbbing enticingly as rivers of water and suds flowed around it.
Marty resisted the urge to lick her lips as she jerked her gaze to his face.
A flush stained her face as she caught him watching her, his black eyes narrowed, the sign of emotion in his expression being the glimmer of hunger in his black eyes.
"There is no need for you to search for answers," he said, his voice still cold. "I told you. Lessa has no more to do with this than Abram and I had to do with her death. It requires no more explanation than that. "
"I'm sorry, but it's not that easy. " After wringing the excess water from her hair, she reached for the shower door as she stared back at him intently. "I need to know what happened, Khalid, and I need more than you gave me as an explanation for your brothers' behavior. Otherwise, I'm going searching for answers whether you want me to or not. "
"Is that a threat?" he asked, his tone snapping with ire.
"It's an alternative," she informed him. "It's information I deserve to know, whether it's part of this investigation or not. If a woman died because she was a lover to you and to your brother, then as your lover now, it's something I need to be aware of. Something I deserve to be aware of. "
"Damn it, it has nothing to do with you," he growled, the anger she knew was brewing in him shading his voice.
"It has everything to do with me. " Emotion erupted as her voice rose slightly, the pain she was beginning to feel tearing through her now. "You have all of me, Khalid. You have parts of me I swore I'd never give a man, and you share them. Don't you bloody well tell me that I have no right to the answers I need. Don't you dare even think you have a right to deny me those answers. "
Marty was shaking. She felt the tears rising to her eyes and stepped quickly from the shower, slamming the door behind her as she placed a stranglehold on the screaming pain beginning to radiate through her.
Why this hurt so desperately she couldn't fully explain. She was fighting to protect him. She had lain her own career on the line even before becoming his lover to protect the innocence she believed in. To protect the man who already held a part of her heart.
He'd refused point-blank to ever discuss the time he had spent with his family in the Middle East. She'd assumed it was because of the ill feelings he harbored toward them. She had never imagined it was because someone had died, that there had been a woman, one he had shared with his brother, whom he hadn't been able to forget.
That was what hurt. She'd seen the look in his eyes, the sudden chill that had filled his expression. Khalid felt something for the mysterious Lessa. There was a part of him that still belonged to her.
How the hell was she supposed to fight a dead woman for his heart?
Jerking the towel from around her body, she dried quickly before heading to the bedroom. She dressed quickly as well. Panties; loose, dark blue pajama bottoms; and a matching T-shirt that fell well below her hips. Sitting down on the side of the bed, she gripped the thick socks she held in her hand and fought to breathe past that hurt.
She felt chilled, uncertain. Naked.
God, what was she doing to herself? She felt as though a part of her was splintering from the inside out in pain.
"Why is this so important to you?" His voice was low, brooding, as she jerked her socks on.
Marty lifted her head and stared back at him in pain.
