Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(99)

“Yeah. I run a rape crisis center here in town, Joan’s House.”

Next to him, Keelie stiffened, almost imperceptibly.

Tori kept on talking, her voice calm, easy. “There was a bequest made a while back and when it came, there was also a framed print of your work. A picture of the shrine of Joan of Arc at Beauvais.”

Zane managed, barely, not to turn his head and look at Keelie.

She’d asked him if it was okay to print that out. Not all of his images had been posted online but she’d seen that one once, when he was showing Zach some pictures from a trip to Europe. She emailed him about it, months later. Asked if she could get a copy to print and frame.

He’d sent her the framed picture he’d had on his wall instead.

“It’s hanging on the wall in the community area,” Tori said. “There’s no religious affiliation. Some of the girls go to the church across the street. Others . . . not so much. But we talk about Joan. A lot. The peasant who became a warrior. We’ve all got some hidden strength inside us. That’s what Joan’s House is about—finding it.”

“Sounds like a good place,” Zane said softly, sliding his hand down, closing it around Keelie’s.

“It is. We do a lot of good there. We’ll be able to keep doing it for a long time.” Then she turned her head to Keelie, lifted a brow. “I wasn’t able to send you a thank-you card, but . . . well, thanks.”

Then she turned, headed off down the hall.

Keelie busied herself staring at her shoes.

Zane didn’t see the point in saying anything.

Then there wasn’t any time. The sound of heels clicking had them both looking up. It wasn’t Tori.

No. It was time for Keelie to face her stepbrother on the stand. A witness for the prosecution, a rebuttal witness. He’d claimed never to have touched a woman in violence. Keelie knew otherwise.

As they started down the hallway, he squeezed her hand. “You’ll do fine,” he said calmly.

“I know.” She nodded, smiled. Then she looked up at him. “And when we’re done, maybe you can think about dealing with some of your secrets.”

He grimaced. Then, tugging her to a stop for just a moment, he pressed a kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”





Turn the page for a preview of Shiloh Walker’s

BUSTED

Coming May 2015 from Berkley Sensation!





Week One

The first time Trey Barnes saw her it caught him by surprise.

Not because he knew her.

Not because of anything she did.

But because it had been six years since a woman had caused this kind of reaction in him.

Six years.

So it was a punch in the gut when he walked into the Norfolk library for the kids’ reading program and saw her. His tongue all but glued itself to his mouth and his brain threatened to do a slow meltdown.

The woman was kneeling down in the middle of a circle of kids, a smile on her mouth. A mouth slicked wine-red and he suddenly found himself dying of thirst.

It had also been six years since he’d touched a drop of alcohol, but in that moment, he found himself imagining a glass of wine. Wine . . . wine-red lips, wine-red sheets, and that long body, skin just a few shades lighter than milk chocolate.

“Come on, Daddy!” Clayton jerked on his hand. “Let’s go! I want to go play.”

His son’s voice dragged him out of the fantasy, rich and lush as it was, and he shook his head a little to clear it. A heavy fullness lingered in his loins and he was glad he’d gotten used to looking like a bum. The untucked shirt had fit him well enough when he bought it years ago, but the weight he’d lost after Aliesha’s death had stayed off, so the shirt hung loose on his rangy frame. Loose enough that he figured it would hide the hard-on that had yet to subside.

A few minutes surrounded by chattering preschoolers ought to do it, he thought.

Clayton let go of his hand as he got closer and he reached up, nudged his sunglasses down. As he’d retreated farther and farther into hermit mode, fewer people recognized him, but he rarely went anywhere without something to hide his face. Between the hair he rarely remembered to cut and the sunglasses, people didn’t often recognize him these days.

A shrill shriek split the air as two kids started to fight over a book.

That’s going to do it, he mused. Blood that had burned so hot a minute before dropped back into the normal zone.

Only to jump right back up into the danger zone.

Miz Sexy Librarian was standing in front of the two kids.

And f*ck . . . her voice was a wet dream.

“Now I know you two weren’t raised to treat books that way. Do you do that at home?”

Two pint-sized little blond heads tipped back to stare up at her. Trey barely noticed them because his gaze was riveted on the plump, round curve of her ass. How could he not notice that ass? She wore a long, skinny skirt that went down a few inches below her knees and her stockings were the kind with a seam that ran up the backs of her legs.

He passed a hand over his mouth.

Hell of a way to realize he could still get aroused—in the middle of the children’s section of the very public, very busy Norfolk library. Gritting his teeth, he focused on the ceiling. Would counting sheep help?