there were witnesses,” she said.
“Parents and kids having dinner. When the bullets started flying, they dove for cover. They were scared, hysterical. I doubt any of them could say exactly what happened.” Especially not when Danny-O was directing the investigation. “Here’s how it’s going down. I’m accused of killing your brother and shooting Agent Borman.”
“Did you?” she asked. “Did you shoot the other agent?”
“Yes.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“Alive and recovering,” Payne said. “He’s a hero.”
“And you’re the goat.”
She leaned her back against the wall and regarded him steadily as if she were weighing his words against her standard of truth. He trusted her instincts. Though raised in an atmosphere of base treachery, Eden had a finely tuned moral compass.
“If you had met my brother on the street,” she said, “and he recognized you, would you have killed him?”
“If it came down to him or me,” Payne said, “I’d shoot.”
She frowned, considering. Then she glanced at her wristwatch. They were both aware of the ticking clock. Soon, the Verone family would gather for the funeral in the upstairs sanctuary. “Why did you come here, Payne?”
“I wanted to see you.”
She brushed away his comment. “I’ve never heard of a fed who was so sentimental. There must be another reason.”
“Surveillance.” By observing those who attended the funeral, he might be able to connect the dots and figure out the connections that led to Danny-O. “Your brother was killed for a reason. I want to know why.”
“Why does this make a difference to you?”
“Until I have proof to implicate Danny-O and Luke Borman, I’m out in the cold.”
“Because the feds think you’re the corrupt agent who’s working with the Verones.”
“Eden, we don’t have time to talk about this. Not right now. I want you to meet me after the funeral. I’ll be at this motel.” He handed her a card. “I’ll wait until four o’clock.”
“Before four o’clock,” she repeated. “At this motel.”
Eden glanced at the card, aware that he was literally trusting her with his life. If she betrayed him by giving his location to her grandfather, Payne would be trapped in a motel room with no escape. The Verone family would take their revenge without mercy.
It was what he deserved for deserting her. A slow and horrible death. But she knew, in her heart, that she would never cause him to suffer. Besides which, he might have another motive in revealing his location. What if Payne expected her to pass on the name of his motel? He might be arranging a sting to catch the Verone assassins. Or, if she came alone, he might be plotting to kidnap her, using her for leverage against her family.
With sudden alarm, she realized that Payne’s apparent trust might have something to do with Josh. Did he even know about their son? His son? Though he hadn’t mentioned Josh, this might be part of a plot to steal her child. So many devious possibilities lay beneath the surface. As a daughter of the Verone family, she had learned to navigate the Byzantine twists and turns of the criminal mind. She must always beware of murky deceptions.
And yet, as she had stated, Candace Verone was dead. She was Eden Miller, a law-abiding citizen who expected honesty.
She looked up at Payne again. Frankly, she demanded, “Why should I come to this motel? Why should I believe a single word you’ve told me?”
An infinitesimal twitch at the corner of his left eye was the only warning before Payne closed the space between them with a few quick strides. His arms surrounded her. His mouth slanted across hers.
Furiously, she fought his kiss. She twisted her body, but his strength was too great. He held her even more tightly. Her breasts crushed against his chest.
Eden wrenched back her head and prepared to scream.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
His dark eyes shone with mesmerizing light. He was the man she had dreamed about, night after lonely night, the only man who had ever touched her soul. God help her, she wanted his kiss. With every fiber of her being, she yearned for him.
He held her nape gently. His lips pressed against hers.
Her resistance ebbed, swift as the retreating surf across smooth, shimmering sands. Her eyelids closed in a swoon. Lifted beyond reality into a netherworld, she welcomed the flow of passion through her veins, awakening dormant sensation. Her arms clung to him. She kissed back, releasing years of longing.
He was alive and in her arms. She treasured this precious moment.
He ended their kiss and stepped away from her. Silent as a shadow, he went through the door and closed it behind him.
Eden was left wondering if this meeting had really happened. Her fingertips touched her moist lips where the taste of Payne still lingered. She had to see him again. Slipping the card with the name of the motel into her bra, she went to the door and prepared herself to face her brother’s funeral.
Outside, at the end of the first hallway, Sister Max stood waiting, fidgeting with her rosary. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Eden nodded. “How did you come to be friendly with Payne Magnuson?”
“Like you, I first knew him as Peter Maggio. When you two started seeing each other, he came to me for advice.”
“Why?” What sort of man sought dating advice from a nun?
“Well, he couldn’t very well talk to your grandfather. Gus Verone had let it be known that you were off-limits.”
Eden was well aware of her grandfather’s decree. Most men ran in terror when they learned her name was Verone. But not Payne. He hadn’t pursued her, but he certainly hadn’t pushed her away. “He told you about our relationship?”
“Remember, my dear child, that you were very young. Only nineteen. Only a year out of high school. And he was a grown man of twenty-four. He didn’t want to take advantage.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth,” said Sister Max. “You had to grow up more quickly than most girls. In your nineteen years, you’d experienced more than your share of sorrow and responsibility. I assured him that you were capable of making your own decisions and taking care of yourself.”
“You were correct.”
Sometimes, Eden thought she’d been born an adult. She’d met Peter, now known as Payne, with her eyes wide open and would never regret their earth-shaking nights of passion. She wasn’t sorry for moments that felt so right, lovemaking that brought her a son, Josh, the light of her life.
“Now, you have another decision,”
