The Third Grave (Savannah #4) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,135

look her in the eye. “You only married him because you didn’t want anyone to suspect we were together. Just in case this all came out.” He touched the side of her face with the muzzle of his gun and she didn’t even flinch because that was the thing about Ashley, one of the things he loved about her. She was drawn to danger, liked the adrenaline rush of it all, the reason she’d agreed to go along with his plan all those years ago. Well, that and the promise of a fortune once his old man kicked off. How lucky for her she’d found a husband, a cover, with enough money to keep her happy.

If not satisfied.

She, like Tyson, was a restless soul and that, more than anything else, had bound them together for more than two decades. He drew the pistol down her jawline and she just stared at him with those wide, curious eyes. God, he was getting hard just looking at her. “It didn’t hurt that he had a buttload of money.”

“Stop it!” She threw herself to her feet and, lighting another cigarette, walked to the window at the front of the house.

“We’re in this together,” he reminded her, following her to the window, hearing the floorboards groan against his weight, smelling the dust mingling with the acrid scent of burning tobacco. As he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight, wedging her firm buttocks into his crotch, letting her feel his erection as it began to harden.

“Stop,” she whispered, but didn’t sound convincing.

He didn’t. Instead he pressed his gun between her breasts, and she didn’t push him away. Because she wanted him. Yeah, she was angry, but oftentimes over the years her anger had sparked to passion. Hot. Intense. Heating his blood. As it did now. That was the thing about Ashley. She always wanted him. He nuzzled the side of her neck and she moaned, tossing her head back.

“I hate you.”

“You’re a liar.” He kissed her nape, touched his lips to the shell of an ear. “And a bad one.”

“My lies saved your ass,” she reminded him. She curled a finger over the barrel of the pistol and said, “Those girls did not need to die.”

Who was she to get so uppity, so goddamned righteous? “Collateral damage,” he said with a sneer, and walked away from her. God, didn’t she get it?

“Because it was Rose you really wanted.”

“She’s Dad’s only other heir. Right? We’ve discussed this about a million times.” He threw her a disbelieving look. “Don’t be so high and mighty, Ash. It’s like you’re trying to play the virgin after fucking the whole damned football team!”

“I’m telling you, all this killing’s got to stop!”

“It will!” he snapped, then caught himself and softened his voice, made it a little more cajoling. “I promise, babe. Then when this is all over, you can get the divorce and we can be together.”

“And my kids?” she asked, walking back to the fireplace.

“They’ll be with us, of course.” That was a lie and she probably knew it. Her bratty daughter and son were the problems. After having the first—the girl—that’s really when Ashley had changed. When she’d become a mother and gotten all domestic, throwing herself into the role of rich suburban mother of two; she’d even started that stupid mommy blog. “So now,” he said, “we have to track down Rose.”

“You should have thought of that when you decided to kill Owen!”

“He never would have talked.” Tyson knew that much. He closed the gap between them. “Not after keeping it a secret for twenty fuckin’ years. And once he knew for sure what had happened to the other two, he would’ve kept his secret to the grave.”

Ashley squashed her cigarette on the hearth. “So why do you care now?”

Was she really that stupid? “Because with all the media attention, someone, somewhere might figure it all out.”

“The press?”

“Yeah!” Finally, she was getting it. “And it starts with that fuckin’ Nikki Gillette! There was a reason she came to see you tonight, you know. I mean, she already interviewed you, right. And now, tonight she was back. You know she’s like a dog with a bone when she goes after someone. And right now she’s after you. She’s dangerous. To you. To me.”

He looked around the huge, open room, up to the rafters and then again to the windows, outside where he sensed danger lurked. He’d been a hunter for years, had stalked