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Tehya was silent for long moments. "She's a pretty girl," she finally said softly.
"Are you falling, Ice Man?"
It was a nickname Tehya used with fondness, as she did now. But it reminded him how dangerous Mikayla was to his self-control.
"That has nothing to do with the truth," he told Tehya. "They're both sticking to their story and I need to get to the bottom of it. See what you can find out for me."
"Will do," she promised. "It's going to take a few days, though. The team is on mission and I'm providing backup intel."
"Understood." The mission came first. "Work on it when you can." The link disconnected as Nik turned the bike to the interstate, taking the exit to the house he had rented. He was going to have to finish this, quickly. Otherwise, the little fairy stealing his self-control was going to end up stealing his heart as well. 65
Mikayla pulled the Jeep into her driveway, glanced at the house next door, and saw the lights that blazed inside as well as the glow of the back porch lights. It was well after dark. She had deliberately stayed at the shop as long as possible, trying to restore the defenses she had never had to worry about falling at a man's touch. But no man had ever affected her as Nik Steele did.
Shaking her head at the thought, she lifted her keys from her purse, pulled the strap over her shoulder, then stepped from the Jeep.
As she closed the door and hit the automatic door locks, Nik's front door opened. Leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, he watched her. He looked tall, forbidden, shadowed.
Turning from him, she hurried up the sidewalk to the house, her gaze moving carefully along the yard, the porch, watching for anything out of the ordinary. She wasn't as wary as she normally was. She wasn't as frightened. Nik was watching her. He was there, and for some reason that gave her a sense of security that she hadn't even felt when her three bruiser brothers had escorted her into the house, checked it out, and made certain all her doors and windows were locked. Nik was dangerous. He was more dangerous, she felt, than anyone who could possibly be waiting in the shadows.
Unlocking her front door, Mikayla stepped inside, closed the door, punched in her security code, then locked the door behind her. The house was too silent. She felt completely alone and too restless.
The urge to step back outside and walk to the one next door was overwhelming. It was an urge she forced herself to ignore.
She'd waited until late to come home for a reason, hoping she would be tired enough to just go to sleep.
It looked as though that wasn't happening anytime soon, though. Moving to the small office area between the living room and kitchen, she dropped her purse to the small end table by the door and moved to her computer. Powering it up, she moved to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of sweet tea, and walked back to the office.
By the time she took her chair, the computer was loaded and ready to go. The file marked: "NELSON" glared at her from the desktop. How could she further her research into Maddix Nelson? She'd pulled everything she could find on him as well on Eddie Foreman, and still there was nothing she could use.
The best she had been able to find had been a few articles mentioning production and material problems with a few jobs. Nothing that wasn't found with countless other construction companies as well.
Propping her elbows on the desk, she covered her face with her hands and wondered where she should go from here. There was nothing to tie Maddix Nelson to Eddie Foreman's murder other than the fact that Mikayla had witnessed it. And no one believed her.
She was at a dead end.
Maddix Nelson was going to get away with murder.
A heavy sigh slipped past her lips as she stared at the still-unopened file. She was concentrating so hard on it that when the firm knock came at her door she nearly jumped 66
out of her skin.
She stood up, her eyes going to the clock on the computer before swinging to the door.
She knew who it was. She could feel him with every fiber of her being.
"Mikayla." The rasp of his voice, like sandpaper over velvet, stroked up her spine with sensual destruction.
That didn't keep her from moving across the room, her fingers punching in the code to the alarm before she unlocked the door and pulled it open. He wasn't wearing riding leathers anymore. He wore snug jeans and a white shirt tucked into the low-riding waistband. Long sleeves were rolled to the elbows and a hint of light-colored chest hair peeked from the buttoned edges of the material at his chest. His long white blond hair was loose, falling around his hard-boned face with delicious rakish appeal.
"It's almost eleven, Nik. What do you want?" she asked wearily, tiring of the battle inside her to resist his magnetic appeal.
"We need to talk." He stepped into the house without an invitation.
"We can't talk tomorrow?" Sometime when her willpower was stronger perhaps?
That would definitely be a better time to talk as far as she was concerned.
"No. We need to talk tonight."
