The Wharf Read Online Free Page B

Brody. The guy had it all in the looks department, including a killer bod, but she’d known that before their face-to-face meeting. She’d seen pictures of him and had even had her P.I. do a little surveillance on him in Crestview.
    Brandy, the female P.I. she used, had gone a little overboard with some of the private pictures she’d gotten of Ryan with her long lens.
    When Kacie had shuffled through the photos, including quite a few shirtless ones and even a grainy picture of Ryan coming out of his shower, she’d accused Brandy of forming an obsession over her subject.
    Brandy, a lesbian in a committed relationship, had just winked.
    Kacie’s physical attraction to Ryan made up only part of the equation. The guy had rescued her from a scorching sauna. What girl wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by that?
    And then there was the way he had looked at her.
    She glanced down at the body that for years had compelled her to sip diet sodas and munch raw veggies, while her two sisters and her mom could seemingly eat whatever they wanted and still maintain their svelte figures.
    Ryan had eyed her as if he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and throw her down on the nearest bed or bend her over the nearest kitchen counter or take her against the wall—any wall.
    She pressed her cheek against the cool glass of the mirrored elevator.
    “Are you going to faint? Because I can carry you back to your room—piece of cake.” He snapped his fingers.
    The elevator doors whisked open and she stepped into the hallway, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll save you the strain on your back.”
    His eyebrows jumped to his hairline and he cocked his head. “You’re as light as a feather.”
    Great. How many weaknesses and insecurities could she reveal to him in the course of one night?
    She invited him into her room and immediately abandoned the idea of the glass of wine. After the accusations against, and subsequent suicide of, his father, Ryan’s mother had turned to drugs and alcohol. Kacie didn’t want Ryan thinking she was a lush on top of all the other flaws she’d put on display that night.
    Crouching in front of the little fridge, she asked, “Water? Something else?”
    “If you’re still having that wine, I’ll have a beer—and I’ll pay you back.”
    “I decided against the wine. Do you still want the beer? It’s on the house.”
    “I still want the beer, and I’ll still pay you for it.”
    She wrapped her fingers around a chilled bottle and held it up. “Is this okay?”
    “That’ll do.” He reached over and took it from her and then twisted off the cap. “Now, tell me about that doll.”
    She snapped the lid on a diet soda and perched on the edge of the bed. “Like I told you before, the little Walker girl had the same doll. A strand of Walker’s hair was found on the doll, and it was stuck on top of the blood smears. Walker’s defense team and the prosecution went back and forth on this point. Walker’s attorneys claimed that it wouldn’t be unusual for a piece of their client’s hair to be on his daughter’s doll, and the prosecution argued that it got there during the murder.”
    “It was a significant piece of evidence.”
    “Yes.”
    “So, who sent you the doll and why?”
    She pleated the bedspread with her fingers. “I think Walker sent it to me as a warning.”
    As Ryan sat next to her on the bed, she proceeded to tell him about her meeting with the ex-con and Walker’s threats against her.
    When she finished, he whistled between his teeth. “You’re telling me earlier tonight you met with some ex-con who said he had info that Walker was after you?”
    “Yep.” She took a long pull from her can of soda, the bubbles tickling her nose.
    “Damn, you live dangerously, woman.”
    “That’s what I do. Do you think it was any picnic going to interview Walker at Walla Walla on visiting day?”
    His gaze left her face and made a detour to her body before returning. “Umm, no. No picnic at all—for