Too Many Secrets

TWO

She cleared her throat, preparing to say something, even if it was stupid. This had to be the longest she'd gone without speaking.

"I'm assuming Derek sent you." His grin made his eyes twinkle.

Are his eyes green? That wouldn't be a good thing. She'd always loved to stare into a man's dreamy, green eyes.

Her mind quickly came out of the clouds and consumed his question. Who was Derek? Well, since she was already in character—whatever character he thought she was—she'd play along. She nodded instead of verbally replying. Where was her voice?

His smile widened. "Please don't be scared. Loosen up a little. I'm going to have brandy, would you like one?"

She shouldn't, but... She didn't have to drink it. Instead, she'd just act like it. That would be good enough. She gave him another nod.

His long, lean fingers plucked off the bottle cork of the crystal decanter and poured the rich amber colored liquid into two crystal goblets. He brought the drinks to the table and rested one on a coaster in front of her.

"I'm not used to talking to myself." He chuckled lightly. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

She swallowed, moistening the cotton dryness in her mouth. "Britt," she squeaked.

His dark eyebrows drew together. "Your name is Britt?"

She cleared her throat. Russell, what is wrong with you? "Yes. My friends call me that. It's short for Brittany."

When his expression relaxed, relief poured over her. His sensual grin returned and made her body weak. She silently cursed the effect. Perhaps it was the heat in the room. Why else would her brain refuse to work? She was a police detective, not a simpering female who swooned at the first smile from a good looking man.

"It's great to finally meet you, Britt—or do you want me to call you Brittany?"

"Britt is fine."

He arched an eyebrow. "I actually like Brittany. It's such an angelic name. It makes me think you're an angel from Heaven sent here to put me on the straight and narrow."

She bit her tongue from snickering. That was a line she'd heard before. All through the two years of college, and then at the Police Academy, she'd been propositioned one way or another and heard almost all the pick-up lines in the book. She'd ignored the sleazy men her father had warned her about and concentrated on her studies. But this particular pick-up line took her by surprise, mainly because a man of his caliber would actually use it on a woman.

"So, my shy woman," Mr. Reeder's voice took on a hint of humor, "if you don't mind, I want to call you Brittany because it fits the petite and delicately beautiful woman sitting at my table."

Once again, his compliment took her off guard. Against her will, her heart pounded faster against her ribs. With a shaky hand, she lifted the drink to her lips and pretended to sip. She noticed his gaze wandered over her red, silk dress again, and then to her legs. Why was he so bold with his inspection? She didn't think she'd spilled food on her dress during the brief time she was at her father's, and soon-to-be stepmother's, engagement social.

"So you're one of Derek's friends." He took a quick drink of his brandy, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "Tell me, Brittany, how long have you known Derek?"

Brittany should be drilling him with questions, but since he thought she was someone else, playing along was essential. She'd already led him to believe she was new, so she quickly thought up an answer. "About two weeks."

He took another sip of his drink. "Derek can be a jokester at times, don't you think?"

"Why do you say that?"

"He told me he was fixing me up with a girl he'd just met, but he didn't tell me how gorgeous you were." He winked.

Her face heated quickly, and she inwardly cursed her body's reaction. Good grief! She had never acted this way before. It must be the heat in the room, for sure. There was no other explanation for it.

"So, what's your specialty?" he asked.

She inhaled sharply. What in the crap is he talking about?

"You know," he continued, sitting in the chair across from her, "Derek wouldn't have fixed us up if he didn't think you could please me in some way."

She about choked on her own saliva. "Pl...please you?"

He laughed deeply. "Yes. Isn't that why you're here? To entertain me?"

Brittany's mind swam with ideas. He couldn't possibly mean that. Yet, what else could he mean? Did he think she was a call girl or something? No way! Three years ago, her precinct cracked open a prostitution ring. Could Seattle possibly have another one?

Anger flowed through her and she bit her lip. She couldn't blow her cover, yet. She hadn't gotten any answers about the murder, so she had to keep pretending. So now she needed to figure out some kind of specialty. "Well, I...I can give a really good massage."

He continued to give her his devilish grin, the one he probably used to charm many women. She liked the way the corners of his perfect mouth lifted, because it made her heart thud a little quicker. The feeling wasn't totally uncomfortable. In fact, it was almost relaxing.

She didn't consider herself pretty in any way, but she'd had the kind of toned body the guys in college liked—physical enough to take them on at anything. Being around three brothers kept her in shape, and she competed with them in most of their sports. However, she knew even in high school, that if a guy didn't like her for her mind, he wasn't worth it.

Mr. Reeder would be the type of man who went out with a woman just for her good looks. Then again, she was sure he'd be able to get any woman he wanted. All he had to do was smile.

Trying to shake away the burning interest in this man that grew inside of her like Jack's magic beans in his fairy tale story, she decided it was time to take control of the situation. How else would she find out if he had anything to do with Hillary Banks' murder?

She tilted back the goblet of brandy to her mouth, and pretended to drink again. After placing it back on the coaster, she rose from the chair and walked toward him. She motioned to the chair for him to sit.

He followed her direction and sat. Hesitantly, she placed her fingers on the muscular cords of his neck, just inside his bathrobe. Warm sensations shot through her, and she bit her lip from groaning aloud. Her fingers nearly melted against his smooth skin. This is going to be harder than I thought.

Dropping his shoulders, he tilted his head forward. "Umm...your fingers are magical."

Encouraged, she smiled and rubbed his neck gently, experiencing that feeling of control she'd always enjoyed. The clean spice, manly scent of his body sent strange signals to her brain, and her own tension began to unwind.

She needed to start drilling him for answers. "So, Austin. Can I call you Austin?"

"Yes. I like the way it sounds when you say it."

He was such a flirt! She smiled. "So, Austin, how long have you known Derek?"

When she pushed her fingers a little harder into his neck muscles, a deep moaned escaped his throat. Against her will, shivers of delight skipped across her skin as warmth spread through her middle. Stop this insanity, Russell. He's just a normal man...who is built like Adonis and is the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes on.

"Derek and I were in college together, so I've known him quite a while."

She needed to know more. "I wonder why he wanted to set us up?"

"Because Derek knows I don't have time for a real relationship." Austin chuckled. "How pathetic is it that I don't even have time to find my own dates?"

"Has he set you up with other women?"

"Yes."

"Who was the last girl?"

"Hillary." His voice was lower. "But since I'd known her from my past, we just became friends. It's too bad what happened to her. It's hard to believe someone I'd gone out with could be murdered."

Brittany's spirits lifted. Finally, the topic she wanted to discuss. Was it a coincidence? She'd figure that out later. Right now, she'd ask him more.

"Yes, Hillary's murder came as a complete shock to all of us. It makes me wonder why anyone would want to kill her."

"I don't know," he mumbled, sleepily.

"Did you know her very well?"

"A little."

"Did you like her?" she probed.

"Oh, she was nice enough, I guess. But more often than not, she nagged me. I just don't have time for women like that," he said in softer tones.

She gritted her teeth. That wasn't telling her anything...not really. What she really needed to know if he was involved with Hillary right before she died? In Hillary's apartment in Edmond, Brittany had noticed the woman owned several pieces of expensive jewelry, and she owned three closets full of fancy clothes. Yet, the girl had only worked as a secretary. Brittany and Kurt suspected Hillary was some rich man's mistress.

Brittany blinked with wide eyes as the puzzle pieces began fitting together. What were the odds she'd found Hillary's killer already? Mr. Reeder was wealthy. He'd known Hillary before she died. Brittany wondered if this Derek guy had something to do with the murder, too. Was it some kind of love-triangle?

She dared not ask, but it was her duty as a detective to find out the truth. Part of her didn't want to think a handsome, rich man like Mr. Reeder could be a cold-blooded killer. There was only one way to find out.

"Austin? Were...um, were you and Hillary lovers?"