Gray sighed. “I can’t be involved in this, Mick, and neither can you. I’ll give you the key to my apartment. You can go stay there. The police will notify you when an arrest has been made.”

“The hell you say! And where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to make sure Faith stays out of harm’s way,” he said evenly. “Hopefully this will all be over quickly.”

“You’re leaving?” Mick asked incredulously. “You’re going to let some piece of ass deter you from catching your partner’s—your brother’s—killer?”

In a blur, Connor flew past Gray and shoved Mick against the wall, his hand twisted in Mick’s shirt. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. That’s my sister you’re talking about. Why don’t you do what Gray told you and get the fuck out of here.”

Pop strode over and pulled Connor away. Though he appeared calmer than Connor, his eyes blazed with anger. “Back off, son. Me and Mr. Winslow here will have a little chat. And then he’s going to clear his ass out of my office.” He turned to Gray. “You need to get on out of here. You’re supposed to be protecting my daughter.”

Gray started to dig around in his pocket for a key to his apartment, but Pop waved him on. “I’ll take care of making sure Mr. Winslow has a place to stay. You focus on your job, and we’ll do ours. I’ll be in touch and let you know how things are going and when it’s safe to come back home.”

Gray nodded then turned to Micah. “I need you to tell me where.”

Micah walked out to the front with Gray and picked up a tablet of paper and a pen and jotted down an address. He tore off the piece of paper and handed it to Gray. “Just head straight down Seawall Boulevard out of town. You can’t miss it. Just about the time you think you’re going to fall off the other end of the island, you’re there.”

“Thanks,” Gray said. “Look, keep me posted okay? You weren’t here this morning, and the guys are pretty pissed over this. I don’t blame them, but I need to be kept in the loop, and Pop is adamant that Faith not know any of what’s going on. If I had to guess, he’s not going to be calling much.”

Micah nodded. “Will do, man. Let me know if you need anything.”

By the time Gray arrived at the beach house, it was close to sunset. He pulled onto the paved circle drive and parked outside the steps leading up to the front door. As he got out, he eyed the bags he’d packed but decided to wait and bring them in later.

He jogged up the steps and tapped at the door. Déjà vu settled over him as he recalled doing the exact same dance at her apartment earlier that morning.

This time when she didn’t answer, he didn’t waste any time letting himself in to make sure she was all right. He stepped into the spacious living room and took in the masculine decor. Definitely a bachelor pad. Didn’t have a woman’s touch at all. He briefly wondered if Damon had planned to join Faith here and scowled at the thought.

When his gaze lighted on the French doors leading out to the deck, he saw an arm draped over the side of a lounger. Faith’s hand dangled and brushed the floor.

He hurried, and when he got close enough, he could see that she was curled up asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he eased outside, closing his eyes in appreciation when the gulf breeze blew over his face.

But as his gaze lowered to Faith’s sleeping form, his appreciation only grew. She looked beautiful. One hand dangled from the lounger, the other curled underneath her chin. Her chest rose and fell gently with each breath, and the breeze lifted the blond strands of her hair and blew them around her face.

All the way down here, he’d convinced himself that he’d tell her the truth no matter what Pop wanted. But now that he looked at her, so fragile and innocent, he understood why Pop wanted to protect her. Hell, he wanted to protect her. Wrap her in cotton and make sure nothing ever hurt her.

She wanted to be taken care of, and what man wouldn’t want to? She was sweet, soft and delicate in all the right places. As he stood watching her, she stirred and moved restlessly on the lounger. Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked as she looked at him, and then her eyes widened in surprise.

“Gray?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing here?”

He bent and ran a finger down her arm. “I hope you haven’t been lying out here all day. You’ll burn.”

“Was in the shade most of the day,” she mumbled. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?”

She shifted and sat up in the seat and continued to regard him with sleepy eyes.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said simply.

Her expression was disbelieving.

“I know I’ve acted like an ass,” he said. “The fact is, Faith, you threw me for a loop.”

He knelt on the wood deck, shifting his weight to alleviate the discomfort on his knees. She placed a gentle finger over his lips, and he was shocked into silence.

“Let’s go inside to talk,” she said.

He rose and held out his hand to help her up. Her hair, tousled by her nap, blew in the breeze, and he reached out to snag a tendril, unable to resist touching the silky tresses.

She turned and walked inside, leaving him to follow. He watched the gentle sway of her hips, and he imagined himself between her thighs, his hands curled around those hips as he thrust into her.

His throat tightened, and he swallowed against the uncomfortable sensation.

When she entered the house, she turned and looked over her shoulder at him. “You coming?”

He moved forward, the knot growing a little larger in his stomach at the thought of what he was about to embark on. He was continuing, not ending, his chain of deception, and he was looking to start a relationship steeped in those lies.

The cooler interior air brushed over his face as he stepped inside. Faith padded barefoot into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“You want something to drink?” she asked. “There’s beer, wine and some juice.”

He shook his head then said, “No, I’m fine.”

She poured herself a glass of juice then walked back into the living room where he stood. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

He observed the slight tremble of her lips, something she tried to disguise by raising the glass to her mouth. She was nervous. Hell, so was he, but he didn’t want her to feel uneasy with him.

He reached out and cupped his hand under her elbow. “Let’s sit down.”

She gazed at him with troubled eyes as if fearing what he’d say. Unable to help it, he leaned in, cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her to him. Her glass pressed into his stomach, mashed between them as he captured her lips with his.

He swallowed the whispery sound of surprised pleasure that escaped her mouth. He tasted the tangy orange on her tongue, absorbed her flavor and savored it with every swipe of his tongue over hers.

When he pulled away, her unfocused gaze met his, confusion outlined in the depths of her eyes. Her mouth, now puffy from his kiss, tempted him again. Later, he told himself. He’d sample every inch of her skin.

He nudged her backward until her legs met the edge of the couch. Then he sat her down. Opting to stand, he moved a few steps back and began pacing, unable to control the anxious energy flowing through him.

“I made a mistake in pushing you away,” he said.

Her green eyes widened. She set her glass on the end table then folded her hands in her lap, clutching at her fingers until the tips were white.

He stopped pacing and looked directly at her. “I want what you want, Faith. You, in my bed, in my arms, my way.”

Color surged into her cheeks as she reacted to his blunt statement.

He moved toward her, kneeling in front of her. He gathered her hands in his and raised her fingers to his lips. “I’m not easy, Faith. I’ll push you. I’ll demand things of you that you may not be sure you can give. If we do this, you’ll give everything to me. In return, I’ll cherish your gift. I’ll see to your every need. I’ll take care of you.”