And with that in mind, she slipped from his bed—their bed—showered and dressed, thankful now she’d thought to bring a change of clothes. She didn’t want to waste the time it would take to head back to her hotel to dress. She was excited about the plans she had put into motion yesterday, couldn’t wait to tell him later today.
She closed the door quietly behind her, punched the button for the elevator, thinking back on the conversation she’d had with her editor yesterday. Rachel had been very enthusiastic about Misty’s new erotic suspense venture. She had to remember to thank Tucker for his very marketable characterization of her story idea. Rachel’s enthusiasm was exactly the support she’d needed to see the rest of her plan through. Feeling confident and happier than she could ever remember, she climbed into the taxi. “Sunset Realty, please.”
FOUR HOURS and one bid later, Misty let herself back into her hotel room. She was flying high, still amazed at what she’d done. But the little house was perfect. Not right in town, but close enough to sustain the vibe the city had spurred to life inside her. It was entirely different than New York City, which she loved, but she was ready for this change. More than ready. New York would always be there for her, like the steady friend it had always been to her. But new adventures beckoned. She thought she’d be more unsettled about making such a huge decision, such a huge change, yet she felt nothing but the exhilaration and anticipation of getting on with this new phase in her life.
Of course, the neighborhood she’d ended up falling in love with probably wasn’t anything like Canyon Springs, but there had been other families there judging by the scatter of bikes, basketball hoops and skate-boards she’d seen. She had no idea if she’d be joining them in raising her children there, but it was great knowing she could. They could. Of course, that was providing Tucker didn’t completely freak when she told him what she’d done.
Not that they had to move in together. Not right away, anyway, she thought with a private smile. He could get his own place in the city, get started with his new job. They could date.
That made her laugh. She and Tucker…well, they’d skipped right past the dating stage hadn’t they?
Now, all she had to do was pray her bid was accepted. And pray Tucker was as excited by her decision as she was. This was all moving so fast, if she let herself think about it too much, she’d be overwhelmed. But it felt right. Just like what was happening between her and Tucker. Jumping in with both feet…not to mention hands, mouths…well, it had worked out pretty bloody well so far. Maybe where love was concerned, there were no rules.
Love. What an immense, fantastic thing.
For perhaps the hundredth time today, she relived the moment he’d told her he loved her. It gave her a hot thrill every time. And she’d never gotten the chance to say the words to him…but she could take care of that right now.
She slipped her purse and the file folder of papers she’d collected from the agent onto the table by the door. The bed was empty, but his clothes were still where they’d landed when he’d peeled out of them at four this morning.
The desk chair was still in the middle of the floor.
Rather than be embarrassed, thinking about what they’d done in that chair, what she’d allowed him to do to her, it aroused her all over again. Which was why she’d left it there after he’d gone yesterday, so she could look at it while she’d stayed in their bed and worked…and remembered everything he made her feel. What they did together would never see the printed page…but there was no denying that the things he’d shown her, taught her about herself, would—should—influence her work. She’d become a Misty Fortune heroine in truth instead of only in fiction.
“Well, they say write what you know,” she murmured, a wicked smile curving her lips as she walked over to the chair and ran her hand along the back of it. She shuddered in renewed arousal, hoping he didn’t mind continuing their little exploration of her fantasies. And his. For as long as they both wanted to.
With that thought in mind, she slipped out of her clothes, and still smiling, scooped up the other two strands of beads where they’d fallen from the bag to the floor. She slipped them over her head, then plucked two of the silk cords from the floor…and headed to the bathroom where she heard the shower running.
Steam billowed as she stepped into the tiled room. He didn’t hear her come in, so she didn’t say anything right away, content to watch him through the glass door as he stood beneath the hot spray, running soap over his body. But within minutes she was already dying to touch him, to be the one running her hands over that slick muscled body. So she clicked open the door and slipped in behind him.
He didn’t startle when she slid her hands down his back, then around his waist, pressing herself up against him. A little moan slipped out of its own volition at the contact. She didn’t think she’d ever have enough of him.
“Hi,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.
“You knew I was here.”
“As it turns out, I like being watched.” He turned, his slick skin all slippery and warm as it rubbed over hers. “By you.” He took her mouth without even opening his eyes, pushed his fingers through her hair and stepped back, taking her with him, so the water streamed over both of them. His kiss went on…and on, until she could barely stand upright, her need for him so strong.
Without speaking, he pulled the beads off and let them fall to the shower floor. The silk cords followed a moment later when he grabbed her hips and lifted her from her feet. He backed her against the tile, thrusting inside of her even as she wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his head to pull his mouth back to hers. They growled and groaned, panted and gasped, then growled some more as he continued pushing himself inside of her.
Her orgasm was like a hot whip of pleasure, lashing at her repeatedly, wrenching one sobbing moan after another from somewhere deep inside her. Tucker buried his face in the curve of her neck, water beating on his back as he grunted his way through his own climax, pushing, pulsing, pushing some more, until they both collapsed breathlessly against the wet tile.
It was long minutes later, when their bodies stopped shuddering, their breathing became less labored, that he finally lifted his head and dropped a heartbreakingly sweet kiss on her lips. “Hi.”
She smiled. “Remind me to always start my day in the shower with you.”
He let her feet slide to the floor, then slid his hands up her arms and into her hair, pulling her to him for a longer, more drugging kiss. “I think we can work that out.” He tasted her mouth again, then her chin, then her jaw and her ear, then her mouth again. “You’re like this addiction. I can’t get enough of you.”
She kissed him, smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.” She held his gaze. “I love you, Tucker.”
His eyes went darker and hotter, if that was possible. His hands tightened almost painfully on her shoulders as he continued to stare into her eyes, speechless. “Again,” he finally managed. “Say it.”
She slipped her arms around his waist, kissed his chin, his cheek, the corner of his eyes, which closed as a hiss of pleasure streamed through his lips. “I love you,” she whispered against his ear.
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, let him pull her tightly into his arms. She felt his heart thunder beneath his chest, almost harder than when he’d been buried deep inside her.
“It’s…insane,” he said hoarsely, “how impossibly fantastic that makes me feel. How you make me feel. Insane.” He tipped her head back, looked into her eyes. “But it’s even better to be able to say it back to you. I love you, Amethyst Fortuna Smythe-Davies.” He kissed her smiling, was grinning even more widely when he lifted his head. “I want to whoop and holler, I want to open the windows and shout it to the world. How wild is that?”
“Pretty wild,” she said, her heart expanding with so much feeling she thought it would burst. “Beautifully, wonderfully, wild.” She kissed his heart. “And I’m happy to hear it, because I have something else to t
ell you, about where I’ve been this morning.”
“Did you talk to your editor yesterday?”
“As a matter of fact, I did, but that’s not—”
“What did she say? Did she go for your new idea?”
“As a matter of fact, she loved the idea.”
He hugged her, turned them both around and let the water spray them both in the face, making them splutter even as he kissed her.
She was laughing as she ducked back out of the spray. “Have I mentioned that I enjoy your enthusiasm about my work?”
“I could say the same to you.”
“Good, because I’ve been dying to ask you how it all went last night. Any additional clues? Did the laser analysis reveal anything new?”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, and with him, she thought perhaps everything would, he turned her so her back was to him, then tipped her head back so he could massage shampoo into her hair as he talked. She could have told him she’d already washed her hair this morning, but she was too busy groaning. “Your hands are pure magic.”
He stepped in closer and slid them down her back to cup her buttocks. “So I’ve been told.”
She wiggled her backside. “Pretty cheeky, ducks.”
He laughed, then pushed her head under the spray to rinse the suds, kissing her quiet when she spluttered.
When they came up for air, he went on with the conversation as if nothing had happened. She loved that about him, too. Playful, unpredictable, dedicated. Hers.
“Well, a couple of things happened. They pulled the taxi driver in but he couldn’t positively ID Ralston in a lineup. He thought the guy he saw might have been shorter. Ralston willingly underwent a polygraph, which did back up his assertion that he wasn’t involved, not that a lie detector test is one hundred percent reliable, but the case against him is getting shakier all the time. The laser analysis was interesting, fascinating really, but not as forthcoming as we’d hoped. Except it did indicate that the shooter was likely shorter than Ralston, or had shorter arms anyway.”
“Like a woman’s arms maybe?” Misty asked, fascinated by the whole process. “Any luck finding the girlfriend?”
Tucker shut the water off and pulled two heated towels into the shower, wrapping one around her body, the other around her hair.
“You know,” she said on an appreciative sigh, “for someone who escaped the suffocating pampered lifestyle of her youth and embraced her absolute independence—” she lifted onto her toes and kissed him hard on the mouth “—I’m discovering there is something to be said about being pampered after all.”
Tucker merely bowed and opened the shower door for her.
“What about your towel?” she asked.
He stepped out behind her, then pulled her back against him, rubbing her towel-clad body over him with such enthusiasm, she giggled, making her towel turban collapse.
“There,” he announced, setting her away from him. “All dry.”
She’d never tire of him. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in my life.”
“Great, isn’t it?” He tugged her back against him when she turned toward the counter for her comb. He kissed the side of her neck, then behind her ear. “I want you all the time,” he said a bit breathlessly.
“It’s honestly amazing, isn’t it?” she responded, knowing exactly how he felt.
“Honestly,” he agreed, kissing along her neck, down to her shoulder. “Amazing.”
Laughing again, she swatted him away and moved from his arms. “Let me pull a comb through this mess before it’s a rat’s nest. And you can tell me about the girlfriend.”
Tucker took the comb from her hand and began working on the curls in the back as he stood behind her. “As far as we can tell, there really isn’t one.”
Misty tipped her head back as he pulled the comb in long smooth strokes through her hair. Could nothing this man do to her not feel like heaven? “So, no other clues about the other lipstick?” she asked between sighs of contentment.
“Not yet. It doesn’t match any of the shades Denton had at the house either.”
“Hmm,” Misty said, wheels beginning to turn as Tucker continued his incredibly relaxing ministrations. “What if…” She trailed off, letting her thoughts continue to spin out, until a theory rose from the swirl. She turned, plucking the comb from his fingers and laying it on the counter, her thoughts exclusively on the case.
Tucker grinned so widely, she paused. “What?”
“You get this almost fierce look of determination when the creative brain kicks in, then you just light up when things click into place.”
She gave him a mock arch look. “I’m so glad I can amuse you.”
He shrugged, unrepentant. “I love watching you work.”
She smiled. “Good, because I think I may have a lead for you.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the counter, wholly unconcerned with his state of undress. She rather liked that about him.
“Oh you do, do you?”
She swallowed a snicker, knowing he couldn’t have realized her thoughts. “I was just thinking, all along we’ve assumed it was Ralston’s girlfriend because of the lipstick on the jacket. But you say the shooter has shorter arms than Ralston. And the cabbie says the guy who got out at the gate was maybe shorter. So, what if it wasn’t him wearing the jacket…but her?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Well, maybe Ralston’s telling the truth and he wasn’t there that night. All we know is that his jacket definitely was. So was the lipstick. Which means the wearer of the lipstick was there, probably wearing his jacket. A jacket he swears he left in his club. So what woman has access to his club, knows his routine?”
“We’ve been down that path. His assistant fits that profile, but she’s been questioned at length, as have others who know them both, and we can’t link them together. And yes, they got a warrant, but no match on her lipsticks either.”
“Did you check her purse? If she was wearing it that night, it was likely she had it with her.”
“Yes.”
“Damn.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Okay. There’s something else that’s been bugging me about all this. Why would the girlfriend kill her lover’s wife, presumably to clear the way for them to be together, then plant the jacket at his place, framing him for the crime?” Her eyes went wide as the sudden realization hit her. She snapped her fingers, then pointed at Tucker. “Unless!”
He grabbed her finger, and grinning, pulled her to him. “Unless what?”
“Did anyone test the lipstick on Ms. Denton?”
Tucker frowned. “You mean the lipstick she used. Yes, it didn’t match.”
She smiled slyly up at him. “No, I mean the lipstick on her actual lips. What I’m wondering is, is there more than one shade of lipstick on Patsy Denton’s lips?”
“Meaning—”
“Meaning it wasn’t Ralston’s girlfriend, but Patsy Denton’s.” She mockingly blew on her fingernails and buffed them on her towel. “Crime of passion after all. Only Patsy Denton’s jealous lover was a woman.”
Tucker just shook his head. “Incredible.”
“But possible.”
“Oh, I’m not saying it’s not. Not at all. In fact, it makes perfect, if twisted sense.”
“You know what they say, truth is stranger than fiction. And if anyone can vouch for that, I can.”
He dropped a fast kiss on her mouth, then headed to the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“To put a call in to Mig and Henderson, tell them to reinterview Patsy Denton’s employees, dig a little deeper into her personal life. You hungry?”
She stopped in the bathroom doorway. “Again?”
He paused in the middle of dialing and shot her a very wicked grin. “Why, Ms. Smythe-Davies, how very naughty of you.”
She gave a little curtsy. “I try. But honestly, Tucker, you’ll never make a decent Brit.”
He
simply smiled and finished his call to Mig, then put in another to room service and ordered a startling amount of food.
“I can see one of us has an appetite,” she said, heading to the closet.
He surprised her by literally leaping across the bed and snatching her off her feet, making her squeal. They both landed in the middle of the unmade bed, with Misty sprawled on top.
Her towel had come off at some point, and their damp skin clung to each other. As usual with him, she was once again breathless and laughing. “What was that for?”
“Mig told me to thank you for your insights. He thinks you pegged it.”
“And he suggested tackling me to the bed as his way of showing appreciation?”
“Oh no, that was because you mocked my hunger.” He kissed her fast and deep, until she was gasping for more than air. “So I thought maybe you needed a demonstration about why I have to eat like a horse to maintain my energy levels.”
She laughed, then batted her eyelashes and tried her best Southern drawl. “Why, I’d much rather discuss another element of your…personality that has equine-like comparisons.”
Tucker burst out laughing as he rolled her beneath them. “Okay, okay, I surrender.”
She batted her eyelashes again, though it was hard not to laugh. “Why, whatever do you mean, suh?”
“I promise to leave the Brit accent to you, if you promise to leave the Southern belle routine to the Southern belles.”
She widened her eyes in mock offense, then tugged her hand up between them, stuck it out, and very calmly said, “Deal.”
Tucker eyed her closely. “I’ve been had.” She simply batted her lashes at him again. Smiling, he took her hand, turned it palm out, dropped a hot kiss there, then pulled one of her fingers into his mouth, making her gasp.
He let it slide out slowly. “Deal.”
“Well,” she said, taking a moment to let her heart get back to normal. “Remind me to seal deals with you more often. And speaking of deals, there’s something we need to talk about.”
Against the Odds Page 19