Sinister Intentions & Confiscated Conception

by Heather Graham

  “Let’s see if I can remember exactly how to do this,” he teased.

  Oh, he knew. He knew every inch of her body, and he seemed ready to prove it.

  Jared planted her hands on the bed just above her head. He slid his fingers up her shirt, inch by inch. Because she was watching him so closely, she saw his eyes darken. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

  “It’s still drying in the bathroom.”

  “A convenient place for it.” He slid up the T-shirt. “It saves me a step or two.”

  But it didn’t seem as if saving time was a huge priority. Those slow, clever kisses continued at a very leisurely pace. He ran his tongue over her skin. And drove her mad.

  When she reached for his shirt, Jared simply clamped onto her hands again. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her breath was thin and shallow now. Every inch of her was humming from anticipation. “So, what exactly are we doing?”

  She should have known that he wouldn’t skirt around a challenge like that. Jared unbuttoned her jeans and stripped them off her. Her panties soon followed. And then he showed her what he had in mind.

  Jared placed one very wet kiss on the inside of her thigh. The upper, upper inside. A place where his hot breath was just as arousing as the kiss. Then, he latched onto her hips and put his mouth to work right on the feverish center of her body.

  Rachel almost jumped off the bed.

  “Come here,” Jared murmured, his voice a gruff whisper. “Let’s do something that doesn’t have a thing to do with stopping.”

  Rachel quickly realized he planned to finish what he’d started. While the idea greatly appealed to her, she wanted more. “I prefer making love to be a mutual satisfaction kind of thing.”

  “Don’t think for a minute that I won’t be enjoying this. I will.”

  She tried to go after his zipper, but Jared stopped her by gripping her wrist. He kissed her, stealing her breath.

  Rachel managed some profanity. Nothing that even she could understand. But then, words weren’t needed. The way he used his mouth said it all, and her response let him know that. She slid her leg over his shoulder, pressed herself closer to his mouth and just took what he offered.

  Jared was very good at offering.

  He kissed. Nipped. Used his tongue until the pleasure closed around her. Rachel grabbed onto handfuls of the sheet, trying to anchor herself.

  She felt the upward spiral start. The rise. The swirl of sensations so immense, so right that her body could hardly contain it.

  Then, Jared somehow took her even higher.

  He savored her, and let her know that this gave him as much pleasure as it did her, even though Rachel thought she could argue that case later. And when he was done with her, when she could take no more, he gave a clever flick of his tongue and sent her flying. In that last desperate second, she called out his name.

  Jared gave her some pleasant aftershocks with a few more of those well-placed kisses. Still, Rachel forced herself to come back to earth as quickly as possible so that she could return the favor.

  With her body still trembling and her breath racing, she held Jared’s shoulder to get him moving in the right direction, but he stopped her again.

  A groan escaped from deep within his chest. He took her hand, kissed it and moved off the bed. Out of her reach. He walked to the other side of the room, turned and looked at her.

  “Get some rest, Rachel.”

  “Hold on.” She didn’t intend to let him get away that easily. “Are you saying that you’re not going to join me on this bed?”

  He nodded. Not easily. But it was a nod. “It’s for the best.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me,” he clarified.

  It was some clarification, all right. And it riled her. “I know what you’re doing, Jared. You’ve given me some great sex, but what you haven’t given me is yourself.”

  He stared at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I repeat, you gave me great sex. Still, you’re holding back. You figure if you don’t make love to me—really make love to me—if you only give instead of take, then you’ll be able to stop yourself from getting too close to me again. It doesn’t work that way.”

  He groaned again and pressed the back of his head against the wall. “I know what’s happening between us, damn it, but I also know it’s something that’ll have to wait. We have too many things to work out first for us to get into a discussion about our future.”

  True enough. There were more obstacles than she cared to consider. But even the obstacles couldn’t make her put aside what she felt for Jared.

  No.

  She was falling in love with him all over again, and that scared Rachel almost as much as the other obstacles they faced. But admitting that to herself didn’t do a thing to help answer one huge question.

  What was she going to do about it?

  Chapter 11

  Clarence Esterman ran his fingers over his slender gold ink pen and read through the letter that his attorney had just handed him.

  “When did you receive this?” he asked Lyle Brewer.

  “Less than an hour ago. Your assistant, Gerald Anderson, dropped it off at my office since you weren’t allowed personal visitors today. I figured it was important so I brought it right over.”

  Oh, it was important. Critical, even. And it angered him to the point that Clarence’s hand tightened. He snapped the expensive gold pen in half and cursed when the black ink oozed over his fingers.

  Brewer quickly handed him a handkerchief, causing the guard on the other side of the glass doorway to take a step inside. “A problem?” the guard inquired.

  Clarence gave him a sappy, sweet smile that no one could have interpreted as sincere. “Not unless you consider shoddy manufacturing something that’d concern you. They don’t make pens like they used to.”

  The guard cast uneasy glances at both men before he went back to his original position and shut the door between them. With that distraction out of the way, Clarence returned his attention to the letter.

  So, Lieutenant Dillard had made the connection to Dr. Sheridan. It was a tough break.

  Especially for the doctor.

  Randall Sheridan had been prompt about repaying his debts, but he wasn’t indispensable. Quite the contrary. He was a loose end in desperate need of elimination. Measures should have been taken days ago to do away with him. Soon, Clarence would personally find out why they hadn’t been.

  Clarence reached over and plucked the pen from his attorney’s hand. Best to make this direct. And cryptic. After shredding all those incriminating documents, he certainly didn’t want to give the prosecution anything they could use against him.

  He jotted down a couple of key phrases at the bottom of the so-called report. Instructions that Gerald would have no trouble interpreting. By noon, the doctor would be dead, and Lieutenant Dillard would be receiving a rather nasty ultimatum.

  Clarence refolded the single sheet of paper, inserted it into the envelope and sealed it. “It’s best that you’re not involved in this,” he told Brewer, when his attorney cast him a questioning glance. Clarence handed him the envelope. “You’ll take that to Gerald Anderson immediately. He’ll know what to do with it.”

  Brewer nodded. “There was one other thing—”

  He paused, his mouth thinning and his Adam’s apple bobbing. Clarence knew the man well enough to know that something was bothering him.

  “I spoke with the DA this morning, and he mentioned that you’d asked to have a private conference with him.”

  If Clarence had had another pen, he would have crushed it into a thousand pieces. Apparently, confidentiality meant nothing to the district attorney. It was a serious error in judgment on both his part and the D.A.’s.

  “I wanted to discuss this
latest trial delay,” Clarence lied. He calmly handed Brewer the ink-soiled handkerchief. “I believe the expression that applies here is fish or cut bait. In other words, I’m entitled to a speedy trial and I want that trial to progress with or without Rachel Dillard and her so-called testimony.”

  The attorney shrugged. “We’ve been granted four delays during the past year. This is the first one for the prosecution. The DA will toss a request like that in your face.”

  “Perhaps. But it does no harm to ask.” Or to offer. And by God, he had plenty to offer. But that was something he’d keep between the district attorney and himself.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to save himself. Of course, that would mean throwing his partner—along with a few other insignificant employees—to the dogs.

  No matter.

  There were certain things that just couldn’t be helped. Right now, he had to focus all his attention on the Dillards.

  * * *

  Jared stepped into the steamy shower and let the hot water pound against him. It didn’t help ease the throbbing pain in his head and neck.

  Nor did it ease anything else that was throbbing.

  What it did do, however, was give him a little time to think. It didn’t take him long to reach the conclusion that his judgment was sorely lacking in a couple of critical areas.

  He was batting a thousand today in the stupidity department. First, he’d ignored all kinds of primitive warnings—warnings that had saved his butt on too many occasions to count. Yet, he’d pushed them aside this time, and it had gotten Rachel hurt at Livingston’s house.

  Then, as if that incident weren’t enough to throw things into turmoil, he hadn’t kept the latest comforting session at the cuddle-and-kiss level. Oh, no. Not him. He’d made love to her under the guise of helping her overcome her ordeal.

  Yeah, right.

  That’d been part of it, of course. A major part. However, somewhere around the time he’d gotten her on that bed and stripped off her clothes, the thought of helping her overcome her ordeal had gotten significantly overshadowed by the thought of some great oral sex.

  He hoped that had relaxed her—even if it had done the exact opposite for him. Being with Rachel had caused a frenzy in his nether regions. So far, the shower wasn’t helping. Nor would it. A shower couldn’t cure that kind of discomfort.

  Jared heard the bathroom door open, but before he could even turn off the water, the vinyl curtain slid back. Rachel stood there, the phone in her hand. She didn’t avert her attention from his totally naked body. In fact, she slid her gaze down the length of him. It was a challenge. A sexual gauntlet.

  That would have to wait.

  She handed him the phone. “It’s Tanner.”

  “Thanks.” But he was talking to the air, because Rachel had already turned and walked away.

  Even though he obviously had some unfinished business with Rachel, he welcomed the call. He hoped it was the news he had been waiting for. News that would ultimately lead to a showdown. Him against whoever the hell had the baby. His only regret was that Rachel would have to be there to witness it. He didn’t want her in any more danger, but he couldn’t see a way around it.

  “You have something for me?” Jared asked. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the tub.

  “Yeah. I tried to call about fifteen minutes ago, but your line was busy.”

  “Busy...” He’d been in the shower for the past fifteen minutes. Jared shrugged it off. Rachel had probably had the cell phone tied up with the computer modem.

  “I managed to get an address for Dr. Randall Sheridan,” Tanner explained. “That’s the good news, but the bad news is he’s not there. I sent one of my people through the house. Just a cursory look. No signs of a baby or anything else.”

  Jared hadn’t expected a smoking gun. However, he had expected to speak to the man, and soon. “What about his office?”

  “Offices. He has two of them. We came up empty there, too. Sheridan has a private practice, but he mainly works at a downtown clinic that caters to the poor and uninsured. He didn’t show up for work this morning, even though he was scheduled to come in nearly an hour ago. The staff is worried. They say it’s not like him to miss work without calling.”

  “Hell.” Had Esterman’s people already gotten to the doctor—to silence him?

  Tanner must have come to the same conclusion. “I’ve put every available man on this. If the doc is alive and in the area, we’ll find him. And as soon as we locate him, I’ll see what I can do about setting up a safe meeting. No repeats of what happened at Livingston’s.”

  That was the critical part. He couldn’t put Rachel through that again. “I really owe you for this.”

  “You bet you do. Don’t worry, that pound of flesh won’t hurt too much when I collect.” Tanner paused. “There’s more. I’ll start with the simple stuff and work my way up. Dr. Sheridan is a parolee. A fairly recent one. He was in jail because of a DWI that resulted in some pretty serious injuries. He was supposed to serve three to five years, but he got out after fourteen months. Guess who helped him to secure an early release?”

  “Esterman.”

  “You got it.”

  It wasn’t much of a surprise, and it went a long way toward convincing Jared that Dr. Sheridan was the man they were looking for. Jared hoped the doctor was still alive, so he could help them.

  “Maybe we should carry this parole thread a little further,” Jared suggested. “I’ll have Rachel do a computer search for someone that Esterman could have hired to take care of the child.”

  “You mean like a nurse?” Tanner asked.

  “Yeah. Or maybe a nanny or a day-care worker. If Esterman got the doctor from prison, maybe he did the same thing with the caregiver.”

  “Then, that leads us back to Warden Livingston. You think he’s Esterman’s partner in all of this?”

  “Could be. But that doesn’t rule out Sergeant Meredith or the attorney, Lyle Brewer.” Jared cradled the phone against his shoulder and dried his face with a towel. “Maybe all three are Esterman’s silent partners.”

  “Did you get a feel for that when you spoke to Livingston at his house?”

  “No. We didn’t actually speak. When he walked into the closet to change, I put him in a chokehold, wrestled him to the floor and tied him up. I don’t even think he got a good look at me.”

  Not that it mattered. While Jared was doing all of that, Meredith was assaulting Rachel in the other room. He should have just clubbed Livingston and gotten to her immediately. It would have saved her from going through that ordeal.

  “I guess it’s time to go another rung up that information ladder.” Tanner blew out an audible breath. “I had the DNA tests walked through for you, and the lab just called me with the results.”

  That drew Jared right out of his thoughts about Livingston. With everything else going on, he’d almost forgotten about the DNA results. Yet, those results were critical for Rachel’s and his future.

  “Are you still there?” Tanner asked.

  “Yeah.” Jared cleared his throat and tried to brace himself. “Tell me what you have.”

  “What I have is a match for the kid, Jared. Sorry to just toss it out like this, but he’s yours. Yours and Rachel’s.”

  Chapter 12

  Jared hadn’t anticipated that the news would feel a whole lot like a punch to the gut.

  But it did.

  It felt like that and more.

  The photograph flashed in his mind. The tiny innocent baby. His baby. A baby that was in the worst kind of danger.

  A sickening feeling hit him so hard that Jared had to lean against the sink. It wasn’t every day that a man learned he was the father of a child he’d never even seen. A child that he could easily lose.

  “Are you okay?” he heard Tanner ask.

  “Not
really.” He let go of the sink and leaned against the door. He didn’t want Rachel to walk in and see him like this. He had to get control of himself. “Just how accurate is that test?”

  “It’s like that soap commercial—it’s ninety-nine point nine percent.”

  Yeah. That’s what Jared figured. Tanner wouldn’t have told him the news, otherwise. “I have to go. Rachel needs to know this.”

  “Sure. I understand. I’ll get back to you as soon as we locate the doctor.”

  Suddenly, that search took on an even greater urgency. And so did the tight fist that had hold of his heart. Hell, he couldn’t protect Rachel or his child. Yet, he had to. Somehow, he had to keep them safe.

  Jared dressed quickly. He certainly didn’t want to deliver the bombshell to Rachel while he wore nothing but a damp towel. He’d barely gotten his jeans zipped, however, before she tapped on the door.

  “What’d Tanner want?” she asked.

  He told her the part about Dr. Sheridan while he put on his shirt. But there was no way he wanted that door between them when he told her about the baby.

  Wishing for a double shot of whiskey, Jared took a deep breath instead and opened the door. Rachel was right there. Waiting. And she immediately studied his face.

  “Something’s wrong,” she concluded.

  “Sit down.” He took her by the arm and led her to the bed.

  She shook her head. “If it’s bad news about the baby, then sitting won’t help. Just tell me what Tanner found out.”

  “It’s not bad.” Well, not in the strictest sense of the word it wasn’t. It just made everything a lot more personal. And more urgent. “Tanner got the DNA results.”

  “Already?” She stared at him for several moments, obviously looking for clues as to what he knew. “I think I’d like to sit down now.”