Read Online Dangerous Games by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online Page A

then repeated, “Hello?”
    “Did I wake you?”
    She didn’t immediately recognize the voice. Only a select few had her cell phone number and this didn’t sound like any of them.
    “No,” she mumbled, “I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.” Up on her elbow now, Rayne dragged her hand through her hair, trying to pull herself together at the same time.
    “Have you made up your mind yet?”
    Now she recognized the voice. She sat up, awake as adrenaline poked its long, reedy fingers into her bloodstream. How the hell did he get her number? The man was becoming annoyingly resourceful.
    “Garrison? What are you doing calling me?” she demanded.
    In contrast his voice was calm, patient. “We had an arrangement.”
    “Yes, but not one that began at—” she paused to look at the clock that she’d pushed against her lamp in her search for the cell phone “—six in the morning.”
    “Sorry, I guess I’m still running on back east time.”
    He didn’t sound sorry, she thought, annoyed. He sounded sexy.
    Rayne wiped away the thought. She didn’t need this. “Well, I’m not. Call back at a decent hour—after you’ve adjusted your clock.”
    About to snap her phone shut and terminate the connection, she heard him say, “Rayne, please.”
    Swallowing an oath, she sighed. Something in his voice, other than the tone, stayed her hand. Maybe his sincerity spoke to her.
    Or maybe her brain was still fogged over, she thought, annoyed with herself.
    “All right.” She didn’t bother hiding her grudging reluctance. “I’ll see what I can do to help you. But not at six in the morning. I’ll talk to you later.”
    With that, she ended the call.
    Punching her pillow into submission, Rayne tried desperately to get back to sleep. But the sound of his low and sexy voice refused to vacate her mind.
    And when a half sleep finally began to descend on her, it only served to heighten her reaction to the man.
    “Damn.”
    Giving up all attempts at a comforting sleep, Rayne laid on her back a moment longer, staring at the ceiling, the import of what she was about to undertake weighing heavily on her mind.
    The only consoling fact was that she knew she wasn’t doing it because of Cole. She was doing it because of Eric. And because something just didn’t feel right to her about the case.
    She couldn’t put it in any better terms, even to herself. This didn’t change the fact that when she’d heard of Eric Garrison’s indictment for the murder of his former girlfriend, she’d first thought it was someone’s poor idea of a joke. The Eric Garrison she’d known was too squeamish to kill a bug, much less a person. It had to be a mistake.
    But when everyone seemed satisfied with the arrest, and when the body of evidence was put together, the D.A. felt they had a solid case, she knew everyone else took the notion seriously.
    She still couldn’t. And because it was someone she knew, she had to prove it to herself. Quietly, if possible. Without stepping on anyone’s toes. She wasn’t the reckless, the-hell-with-the-whole-world girl she’d once been, not giving a damn about herself or tomorrow. Now she knew she was part of an integral whole, that what she did affected others, most importantly, the people she loved.
    But she still wanted answers.
    With a sigh, and feeling half dead, she dragged herself upright in bed, swung her legs out and let them dangle over the side. Getting her bearings was hard, even under the best circumstances, and these weren’t them. She’d never been one of those morning people, waking up eager to greet the day. She’d always met it reluctantly, her consciousness kicking and screaming as it was brought to the fore.
    Today was no different.
    Slowly the day of the week penetrated the layers of fog that still swirled around her brain. It was Saturday. Saturday, and she’d missed the opportunity to sleep in.
    “Damn you, Cole Garrison,” she said vehemently. He could have waited another hour