Mine to Take by Cynthia Eden Read Free Book Online Page A

be very, very careful. In New York, it would be easy for him to stumble. For her to discover more about his life.
    About the last ten years.
    There were some things that she’d truly be better off not knowing. 
    ***
    “I need a list of your lovers,” Trace told Skye when she returned to his car that evening. He’d just pulled up, seemingly at the perfect time, but she knew one of his agents must have contacted him and told Trace that she was calling it a night.
    Exhaustion pulled at her, but his growled demand…
    I need a list of your lovers.
    “This isn’t show and tell,” she mumbled as she felt her cheeks flush. “I’m not asking for—”
    “The detective—Griffin—was right. The man after you could be an ex.  Someone who had you once, and doesn’t want to let go.”
    She glanced out of the window. The city passed her in a blur. “It could be an ex, or it could just be some nut-job who saw me on the street.  Maybe someone who even saw me dance. Sometimes, people get dancers confused with the characters we play.” She’d been plenty of people, over the years. A sleeping beauty. A wicked witch. A swan. A—
    “The list of your lovers will be the starting point for us. You’ll find that my resources are much stronger than the detective’s. I can find these men, clear them—or—”
    “They aren’t guilty.” 
    The car eased to a stop. Then turned right. Reese was up in the front. She inched forward. This wasn’t the way back to Trace’s penthouse. Not unless Reese was taking a different route home.
    “Tell me their names.”
    She glanced over at Trace.  “They’re not even in the city, okay?”
    There was only one ex-lover for her in Chicago, and he was sitting far too close and taking up far too much room in the vehicle.
    One dark brow rose. “It’s not hard to hop a flight or a train to Chicago.”
    No, it wasn’t.
    Rain began to fall, splattering against the window. Her shoulders stiffened. Fine, if he wanted the list, she’d give it to him. In all its short and sweet beauty. “Robert Wolfe. He was…he was a choreographer that I met years ago.” Brilliant.  Determined.  Way too exacting.
    “Who else.”
    The impatience in his tone grated. It wasn’t like she had a four page list.
I bet he does.
“Evan Meadows, he’s an actor.” One who’d made it pretty big recently. “But he’s in California now so I don’t see how he could possibly—” 
    “Keep going, Skye.” His voice was clipped.
    There wasn’t very far that she
could
go.  “Mitch Loxley.”
    The car’s interior got very, very quiet.
    “Say the name again,” Trace growled.
    “Why? You heard me the first time.”  She glanced out the window once more.  A frown pulled her brows low. This definitely wasn’t the way to the penthouse.
    “You slept with your doctor?” Trace demanded. His voice was low and cold.
    Sometimes, he did that. When he was angry, his voice would drop to that lethal softness.
    “He wasn’t my doctor at the time.”  She’d been so alone, and Mitch had been the only one there for her.  Always smiling.  Coming by with doughnuts and flowers.
    One night, drinks had led to something…more.
    “Why aren’t you with him now?”
    “Because I couldn’t stay in New York.”  Her lease had been up, and she hadn’t had the cash to renew it, not after all her medical bills. Insurance had only stretched so far.
    “The
fucking
doctor…”
    Her head snapped toward him. “Look, who I’ve been with shouldn’t matter—”
    “It matters to me.” Gritted. “It matters a great deal.”
    She would never figure him out. “You’ve been screwing your way through every model or actress you could find, so don’t act like some ex-lover I had does something to you. We both know I made your ancient history list a long time ago.”
    He leaned toward her. In the darkened interior of the vehicle, she wished that she could see his expression. But he was still hidden by shadows.  “It does