Bed Of Lies Read online

  Dean King

  Tempting Beauty

  “Where are you going?” That voice. It sent shivers down her spine. So strong, so deep and oh so sensual, an undeniable tremor of excitement raced through her entire body.

  She looked up, her eyes wide and she was helpless to look away. It was him. Her heart pounded hard and slow at the same time against her ribcage. Her secret lover. But his voice held an edge she didn't recognize. Sharp, yet caressing. She didn't know if she should fall into his arms, or run as fast as her legs could carry her. He was so tall, his hair was longer and blacker than she remembered. It lay in shiny waves, and her fingers itched to feel it again.

  “Am I not worth waiting for?” His fingers gripped her chin tilting her head back, forcing her to look at him.

  “Where were you?” She didn't recognize her own voice. “I didn't think you would come.”

  His fingers tightened. “Like you never showed up all those weeks ago. I started to think you hadn’t enjoyed our night as much as I had.”

  “I did enjoy our time,” she looked away. “But I…I had something to…”

  “Save it,” he cut her off. “We have more important things to deal with tonight.” She shivered and her eyes drifted closed despite her battle to prevent it.

  His laughter was mocking and she flushed with embarrassment. “Are you that ready for me?” His sweet taunting breath brushed her glowing cheek. One of his hands rested on her arm in a gentle caress.

  Nina looked away, mortified because he was so right. “I just don’t like these other people touching me,” she said quietly. Her eyes fell to the blond who was picking himself up off the floor glaring at them.

  “I don’t like other people touching you either,” Rafe was ready to kill when he'd seen Rick trying to fondle her. It didn’t matter that Rick was one of Frank’s best customers. No one had the right to touch her. Now, as he stood with her in his arms, he watched her beautiful eyes as they followed his lips. He wanted to smile as her tongue came out to run along her lower lip, moistening it nicely.

  A ROGUE® Book

  Published by: Book Surge.™

  An Amazon company

  If you purchased this book without its' cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” the publisher and neither the author has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Copyright © 2004 by DEAN KING

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2007901566

  Publisher: BookSurge, LLC

  North Charleston, South Carolina

  All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  All persons and events are purely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 10: 0-9719751-4-0

  ISBN 13: 978-0-9719751-4-9

  The name Caliente® and its logo ARE TRADEMARKS of Rogue.™

  First Printing: April 2007

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Printed By Book Surge

  To everyone who believed in me. This is my baby and I’m so excited. Thank you, my family and friends, thank you for understanding, thank you for having faith in me. But most of all, thank you for pushing me when I would’ve given up. Enjoy!

  Bed of Lies

  A novel by Dean King

  EDITED IN PART BY ROBERT WAGNER

  and SHERYL MANBECK

  Rogue

  © 2007 A Caliente Book

  Prologue

  Peter squinted through the fogged windshield of his car. A late March storm blanketed the usually clear and dry city. It was late, nearly ten at night. Thick dark clouds rolled overhead, obscuring even the faintest signs of what was supposed to be a full moon. Typical for early spring in Houston. And he hated it.

  Rain fell in heavy torrents splattering the pavement outside and he was loathe getting out in it. To make matters worst, this was a high crime area of town, only the most desperate or insane people could be found here. And here he was, actually thinking of braving the unsavory elements just to speak with his debauched boss. This was the last place he wanted to be, but he had great news that would boost their chances of winning the gubernatorial election at the end of the year. Peter had no choice: either head inside this hole-in-the-wall, or kiss his new career goodbye. The forlorn building sat staring at him from under a sagging roof, its entrance marred by broken door frames and light fixtures. This place was so very different from the magnificent Six Bow Lounge, where his boss could usually be found talking politics with his cronies.

  Peter sighed hard, there was no help for it, he had to go inside. The kingmaker had him by the throat. This was his test; he knew it without being told. Politics was a game, it was who you knew that got you in the door, but it was what you knew about them that kept you there. He had to prove himself worthy enough to be in the game. His hands tightened on the black leather of the steering wheel. He wouldn’t fail, even if it meant helping a depraved old man gain the governor's mansion. He would do it, what ever it takes.

  Peter sucked in his breath and held it, then blew out hard; pulling the wide rim of his brown hat low over his forehead he got out of the car. Running to the door of the dilapidated bar, he darted inside. Standing in the doorway, he squinted in the thick yellow smoke filled haze, and then spotted his reason for being here. His gut churned with disgust and saliva pooled under his tongue as he made his way to the fat, pathetic form slumped over a table in a dark corner towards the back. He tried to keep the grimace from his face, but with every step his leather shoes slid through wetness, then something sticky popped and clung to the bottom of his two-hundred dollar shoes, and for him, escape seemed too far away. “Sir?” It was a quiet hiss; it was as much as he would allow himself. Taking a furtive look around, he slid into the cracked red leather seat in front of his employer. Palms sweaty, and his fingers all thumbs, he fumbled with his blue and white striped tie, accidentally pulling it too tight around his neck.

  The hot day had turned into a steamy night; the room reeked of tobacco, sweat and mildew. His nose wrinkled, stale beer and the acid scent of strong urine were slowly suffocating him.

  Droopy, red rimmed brown eyes looked up from a half empty glass of some kind of brown liquid. “Peter?” Mayor Martin grumbled, flicking lank gray hair out of his pale flaccid face. “What the hell are you doing here? You know better than to disturb me.”

  “Sir, you wanted news on your opponent, Judge Conroy,” Peter kept his blond head down.

  Water from the rim of his hat dripped to the table in a puddle, then dribble to the floor. He didn’t care, he wouldn’t remove the hat. He couldn’t risk being seen. His grip on the edges of his wet coat was so tight the white of his knuckles showed. Fear was something he was not afraid to show, acts of cowardice had gotten him out of many bad situations.

  To be seen here would mean the end of his budding career and he could not afford that. Getting Mayor Martin elected against the popular incumbent and a pristine female judge would prove his worth to the kingmaker and those of his ilk. It would solidify his place in the world of golden gains, he swallowed hard and closed his mind to his conscience.

  It didn’t matter that Martin was a closet homosexual who preferred teenage boys. More important was the fact that Martin's wife and children were involved, innocent victims. Pawns, bargaining chips to be used for future favors. Peter's blue eyes narrowed, yes, this was his chance to prove himself, and damn it he would do it.

  Peter couldn’t help the small smile that teased his lips. The king
maker himself had the same taste as Martin. It was very useful knowledge, but he was no fool, these were secrets he would keep until the time was right.

  Martin's blurry brown eyes narrowed. “What news?” he growled. “It’d better be good. What if someone followed you?”

  Peter licked his dry lips, and cast a quick glance over his shoulder, his shoulders sagged with relief. No one in the small group of bedraggled people was paying them any attention. “I wasn't followed,” his cramped fingers clenched and unclenched on the soiled table top. “I was careful.”

  “Well, spit it out!” Martin growled.

  “Judge Conroy has a secret,” he whispered, trying to ignore the mayor's pungent liquor and garlic breath.

  “If you don't tell me what it is then I'll never know now will I?” Sarcasm dripped from his thick wet lips.

  “She had a baby…” Peter began.

  “Oh for Christ sake!” He barked, one corner of his sagging pink lips lifted in a snarl. “I knew that! She and her husband have three children. You're supposed to be looking for ways to ruin that lily white reputation of hers.” One meaty fist banged with startling force on the small oblong table, rattling its contents.

  “I know,” Peter muttered, losing what little patience he had left. “I was in a small bar east of here two nights ago. A woman was reading about the judge wanting to run for governor. She started sprouting about how she knew the judge. How she had a secret the judge would pay her to keep.”

  “Are you going to make me wait all night?” Annoyance tightened his droopy jowls.

  “I paid the woman,” Peter said in hushed tones. “It seems this woman worked for the judge's father in North Carolina. One summer Mrs. Conroy came home from law school in her final year with only one semester to go, crying to her father that she was pregnant and that it didn't belong to the man she was dating, her future husband, John Douglas Penrose III. Being devout Catholic, she couldn't get an abortion, so she hid out until the child was born. One year after the birth, she graduated and married as if nothing had happened. The woman says Conroy’s father helped her get rid of the kid.”

  Martin stilled, stunned into silence. “Are you sure?” Came the urgent hiss. “How old was she?”

  “She was pretty old, it seems in her youth she was a party animal. She took her time deciding what she wanted to do with her life, and then her father convinced her to become a lawyer. I’d say from what the woman told me she had to be in her late twenties.” Peter looked around then cleared his throat. “But that's not all.”

  Martin sat up straight and leaned in closer, his beady eyes dark with anticipation.

  “The baby was fathered by a teenaged black man. More than likely the boy was under age, his father was a judge at the courthouse the same time Mrs. Conroy was doing her internship there.”

  “Yahoo!” Martin yelled, and slammed his fist on the table, the glass rattled and was sent rolling, Peter caught it. “Jackpot! You did well, Peter. Thanks, boy!”

  “The woman wasn't clear about what happened to the baby girl. She thinks there was talk about smothering it, or dropping the kid off somewhere. But she did give me some possible leads.”

  “Go for it, boy! Find out all you can. I'll have Judge Conroy eating out the palm of my hand when we break this story.

  One

  NINA MANCHESTER STOOD IN front of the mirror in the unisex bathroom at work and stared at her reflection. Senior Financial Consultant, the title felt good. A tear slipped from one eye and she clenched her teeth against it. Reaching up, she ripped off her glasses and tossed them into the stainless steel sink and leaned her hands on the cool marble. Today was supposed to be a great day for her. She gave a small snort and her nose started to burn as more tears threatened to fall. Taunts from her co-workers rang in her head. She‘s just wasting away, a dried up old prune and no man would want her, that’s why they gave her that job. The laughter hurt almost as much as the words. Nina’s throat threatened to close as tears of self-pity consumed her.

  She had been working here for three years and she’d just been promoted to Senior Financial Consultant. Being put ahead of everyone who had been here years before her, made it even harder then it had been before. They’d all hated her before, this would give them more reason to pull pranks on her and laugh at the way she dressed. She stiffened her shoulders and lifted her head, she was her own person, so what if she wasn’t pretty? So what if she dressed different? Apparently it didn’t matter to the people who hired her. And if it didn’t matter to them then she could careless what her co-workers thought.

  She stared into the mirror, it was crystal clear but all she could make out was her outline. Without her glasses she couldn’t see a thing. Nina turned on the cold water and splashed her face, as the door opened and someone enter the restroom. She didn’t look up because she didn’t care, she just wanted to go home and share her good news with people who loved her.

  “What the hell do you mean the shipment got lost?” The voice was loud, whoever the man was he sounded ticked. “Get Tim on the line.” He breezed by her and she inhaled. The scent of him was wonderful, almost intoxicating. He disappeared into one of the stalls at the other end of the restroom but she could still hear him. He was trying to figure out what was going on with some shipment.

  The door opened again. This time Nina looked towards it, and she was relieved. She made out the small form of her secretary.

  “Oh, Ms. Manchester,” Sharon came towards her, but she didn’t stop. She enveloped Nina in what felt like a huge embrace for such a tiny woman. “They were mean to say that to you.” She ranted as she patted Nina’s back. “I gave them what for, I told them what asses they’re being and I said you are so smart you could think them under the table. I said they were the stupidest bunch of idiots god ever created and that you deserve that job!”

  Nina laughed, and pulled away. “Thank you,” she said and gave Sharon a small squeeze before releasing her. “Thanks you so much, but you don’t need to fight my battles for me. I can handle them.”

  “I wanted to,” Sharon declared. “Those asses need to be taught a lesson. As for Edgar,” she clenched her fists and gave a growled. “I could wrap my hands around his fat throat and just choke the mean life out of him.”

  “That’s a sin Sharon,” Nina reminded her.

  “It’s a good sin, I’d just be helping God out. Getting rid of scum like Edgar is a blessing.”

  Nina shook her head then she grabbed Sharon’s hand. “You are going to the fourth floor with me aren’t you?”

  “Me?” Sharon squeaked and Nina laughed, already relieved.

  “Yes you, I won’t take the job if you don’t come with me.”

  “Oh Ms. Manchester, that just melts my heart. You are wonderful.”

  “Of course it means we have to move out of our cramped little office, and you would have to get a pay raise, then we’d be among those stuff shirts you are always complaining about.”

  “Hey as long as one of those stuffed shirt’s is Wayne I’m all for it.” Her cheeks pinkened and Nina smiled.

  “You still like him?”

  “God, do I ever, have you seen those big blue eyes? And his sandy blond hair, straight as a bone but it falls so nice, I can’t wait to see how it feels sliding through my fingers. He may not be a fitness freak but he looks like he might do a little working out. I’d let him work out on me any day.” She winked at Nina.

  And Nina laughed outright. “You might want to start our packing before you let him know your intentions.”

  “Don’t be surprised if I have us packed before you can make it back to your old desk.” She spun around and headed out the door.

  Nina couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t have friends, she didn’t need the trouble friends could bring into her life. But every now and then she did get the urge to be able to laugh and talk with people her own age. People who were interested in the same thing she was. Though where she would find anyone who liked numbers was beyond her
.

  “Excuse me,” she turned sharply. The man who had come in earlier was standing in front of her. She squinted to try and get a better view of him, but it was useless. Instead she just smiled, and hoped he was smiling too.

  “Yes, may I help you,” she said politely.

  “I need to dry my hands and you are standing in front of the paper towels.”

  “Oh,” her cheeks took on a charming flush as she stepped aside. “Excuse me.”

  Rafael Montoya gave her a slight grin, he moved forward and grabbed two towels and dried his hands. He frowned when he turned to see her standing there. As if waiting for something. He thought for moment, and then he saw the glasses in the sink in front of him. He lifted them to give them a quick once over. Then his eyes shot to her hands, they were folded in front of her and she looked uncomfortable. He decided to put her out of her misery and give them back to her. “Are these yours?’

  “Yes, but I’ll just wait till you finish.”

  “Here you go, I’m finish.”

  She reached for them but she didn’t out them on. He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help over hearing you received some kind of promotion today?”

  When she smiled, dimples deepened the corners of her lips. She wasn’t a bad looking girl, if you could get past the squinting eyes, and the sixties school teacher look. She was young, that much he could tell, but anything else about her was hidden.

  “Yes, I was promoted to Senior Financial Consultant.”

  “Congratulations, which office? There are at least five companies in this building.”