by Debra Webb
The urge to rail at him about how terribly he’d treated her nudged at her but she lacked the enthusiasm to follow through with the inclination.
“I know how close you were. I shouldn’t have been so heartless.”
If he was looking for forgiveness, he could just forget it. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
So she gave him the silent treatment all the way to the block where her folks lived.
“Oh, God.”
A whole horde of reporters waited on the sidewalk in front of her house.
Rick swore.
“Don’t stop,” she implored. “Just keep driving.” She couldn’t endure any more.
He drove away without even slowing. She slid as low as possible in the seat. Not one of the vultures circling her childhood home appeared to notice her in his vehicle. Now she felt thankful her parents weren’t here having to witness this ruthless invasion of privacy.
The idea that Melinda would likely go home to the same scene gave her pause, but she felt confident Kira would take care of Melinda.
“I’ll send one my deputies over to Melinda’s house to make sure she doesn’t find the same thing at her place.”
That he’d read her mind so clearly startled Lacy. But then, that was the logical step, right? The chief of police would think in those terms.
It had nothing to do with him caring how she felt. He’d proved that yesterday morning.
As promised, he made the necessary call. Lacy felt better knowing Melinda wouldn’t have to face the same unpleasantness.
God, she wanted this to be over.
She closed her eyes for a while. She couldn’t think anymore. The sound of the tires gliding over the damp streets lulled her into a light sleep. But sleep only brought the voice of the caller echoing behind her as she ran from some dark figure.
Lacy sat up, blinked a few times and tried to get her bearings. She recognized the street but hadn’t been in this neighborhood in a really long time.
“Where are we going?”
“My place.”
It took a couple of seconds for his words to penetrate the haze of fatigue. “Wait.” Going to his home would be a mistake. She didn’t have to analyze it. She knew it would be. “I should…” What? Go home? Go to Melinda’s? There was no place for her to go and feel safe.
“No one will bother you at my place,” he assured. “You’ll be safe there.”
And that was exactly what she needed to feel. How could he know her so well? They’d only been together that one time. How could he sense her needs so precisely?
Rick’s house was a small, neat rancher at the end of a street where the city met the thick forest of the greenbelt Goose Pond Colony had formed ages ago. Ashland wouldn’t be allowed to expand into that natural setting for at least another couple hundred years.
Lacy scooted out of the truck seat when he opened her door, but she was too busy taking in the place to consider the man. The lawn was freshly mowed, the shrubs neatly pruned. No flowers, but then she wouldn’t have expected any. Traditional red brick with black louvered shutters dressed the outside of his home. Steps led up to a small porch that provided shelter for the front entrance. A typical six-panel door with lock and dead bolt led into the home.
He flipped a switch and two table lamps in the living room glowed to life. There was no entry hall. Just a generous-sized living room with well-worn, comfy-looking furnishings. The walls were a deep sand color, the floors red oak polished to a high sheen. A big-screen television sat in one corner of the room.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got soda and beer. Coffee.”
The uncharacteristic tension in his voice drew her attention back to the man. It wasn’t her imagination. He looked nervous or otherwise uncomfortable. How was that possible? He always appeared calm and rational, never flustered or uneasy.
“Nothing, thank you.”
“There’s…” He cleared his throat. “There’s water too.”
She shook her head. If she’d been thirsty she would have denied it. Her entire interest was focused on the place. It smelled like him. Something fresh and yet classic like the softest leather after a brisk rub to release the natural essence.
A massive oak bookcase across the room drew her there to study the framed photographs of Rick and his family. A few were of his deputies gathered for cookouts or holiday celebrations.
He looked happy, secure in his own skin.
What she would give to feel that way again.
“Should I leave a message at your house for your folks, in case they get in this evening?”
Lacy set aside the photo of Rick and his fellow officers she’d been contemplating and turned to him. Did he think that wooing her with kindness would get her to talk, since intimidation hadn’t?
Those silvery eyes, the ones she had never been able to forget, rested easily on hers, as if he enjoyed admiring her and was in no hurry to look away.
He really had turned into an amazing guy, every bit as handsome as she would have expected and even more in ways that went beyond the superficial.
Rick Summers was what folks around here would call a good man. Honor, loyalty and all those traits that were growing more and more extinct with each generation.
The kind of man any woman would want to capture. A good catch.
Except she’d walked away. Used him and gone on as if he hadn’t counted in the grander scheme of things.
She wondered if he had ever forgiven her for that.
Then again, he hadn’t attempted to draw her back for more either. Maybe that was the problem she really had with him. Maybe she’d never forgiven him.
“My folks are stuck in Bermuda for at least a couple more days. The whole island is on lockdown. The storm blew up too fast for an evacuation. Besides, being nice to me isn’t going to induce me to talk, Chief,” she said wearily. “I have nothing to say. It won’t matter what you do, that won’t change.” She owed it to Cassidy to abide by her wishes. Lacy would die before she would talk now. And that was a very real possibility.
He moved closer. “So, no matter what I do, you’ll say nothing to me or anyone else.”
The huskiness of his voice seared her with a heat that she longed to feel over and over.
“That’s right.”
She didn’t know how, but the moment had gone from talking about murder investigations to something much more intimate. And it didn’t matter how it had happened…she didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to feel anything but the sweet heat of this moment.
His fingers dove into her hair, wrapped around her skull and drew her mouth up to his in one fluid motion.
His lips sealed over hers and even her own name left her, leaving her floating and exquisitely anonymous. She couldn’t think…could only feel. The incredible taste of him, sweetened coffee, rich and alluring. The feel of his strong hands holding her firmly as he kissed her so deeply.
She shivered as his hands moved downward, tugging at the buttons of her blouse. Slipping down the zipper of her skirt. Both garments dropped to the floor and he hadn’t stopped kissing her for even a fraction of a second.
The feel of his hands on her naked skin propelled her into action. She tore at his shirt. She moaned as her fingers touched his hot, bare skin. The surge of want that rushed through her made her knees so weak she had no choice but to lean into his sturdy frame.
He tore his lips from hers to trace a path down her throat with his mouth. Her entire being throbbed with the desire he’d lit inside her. When his tongue touched her nipples, first one and then the other, the rhythmic contractions started deep inside her, propelling her toward climax.
Down, down, down he moved, dropping to his knees, kissing his way down her torso. She shuddered with the delicious tension rippling through her. It felt so good to have him touch her that way. She wanted so much more…didn’t want it to stop.
His hands settled on her hips and he braced her against the bookcase. Picture
frames crashed into one another and fell over onto their shelves, but he didn’t care and neither did she. He dragged her panties down and off and then ushered her legs wider apart. She clutched at the shelves behind her, closed her eyes and let the cascading sensations take her.
He brought her to that ultimate place of pure pleasure using nothing but his hands and his mouth and she wept with the beauty of it.
She’d waited so long to be touched by him…to be with him this way. No one else had ever been able to erase his memory or to fill her mind and body the way he had.
He lifted her into his arms and held her against his bare chest. She couldn’t question anything. Her head found the perfect fit next to his shoulder and she didn’t worry what was next.
The bedroom they entered was dark, but the smell of him, the feel of him, made it welcoming, marked it as his own as he had long ago marked her. He placed her gently on the bed, shed his trousers and moved down next to her.
The feel of him all around her was like a shield protecting her…made her feel secure again for the first time in so long she’d almost forgotten how wondrous that sensation could be.
“Rick, I…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say but she needed to make him understand how special he was to her. No matter what took place between and around them in the bright light of day, this was theirs and no one could take it away from them.
“You don’t have to talk.” His lips covered hers and he led her to the peak of insanity all over again. Only this time he planted himself deep inside her and they both lost their breaths.
Long moments passed before they could move, but need hummed fiercely between them and it soon took over.
She smoothed her hands along his body as he moved over her. He felt stronger, far more powerful than before. His touch was more skilled but every bit as tender, more restrained by maturity. But nothing had changed about the fire that burned out of control between them.
He made love to her twice, each time draining her so completely she could do nothing but beg for more. When he’d exhausted himself, he lured her to the bathroom where they bathed together and made love one more time.
She went to sleep in his arms.
For the first time since she’d gotten that call, nothing mattered except the way his skin fused with hers.
Safe and secure…he gave both to her…at least for a little while.
Chapter 14
Rick lay very still and watched Lacy sleep as dawn crept into the room. She’d slept all night without waking once. He’d roused a couple of times, but it had nothing to do with his not being utterly emotionally and physically satisfied from their lovemaking. On the contrary, it was habit. He’d always been a light sleeper and just over ten years in the police business hadn’t helped any.
But this, well this was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever experienced. He’d known the connection between him and Lacy was special that first time…when he’d greedily taken the innocence she offered. He hadn’t quite forgiven himself for being so selfish. Wasn’t sure he ever would.
But last night had confirmed what he’d suspected all along. He’d been in love with Lacy Oliver since he was seventeen. Neither the passage of time nor the reality of a triple homicide investigation was going to change how he felt.
It wasn’t as if the signs hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been able to get serious with any other woman. No matter how his friends and family had tried to “fix him up.” He’d always felt something significant was missing. And he’d been right. His heart hadn’t been in any of the ill-fated relationships he’d attempted.
Funny thing was, this epiphany was the last thing he needed just now. How could he conduct an investigation with any objectivity if he was in love with one of his prime suspects?
He’d told himself he could set aside his personal feelings, but he’d been wrong. Whatever she had done ten years ago, he didn’t care anymore. The only thing he wanted to do was protect her.
There was a killer out there who might very well be looking for revenge. He had to protect Lacy and the others. It was his sworn duty…but more than that, he couldn’t survive losing her again.
That was the part that stuck in his chest and twisted like barbed wire. He couldn’t bear the idea of her leaving, and that was exactly what she would do when everything was over.
She’d left before, and he doubted she would change strategies now. Her life was in Atlanta. He’d kept up with her to some degree, had watched her career rise the way he’d known it would.
He stilled inside. What would he do if he learned that she had been involved in Charles’s murder?
He’d promised himself that he would cross that bridge when he came to it, but that was now. She had to be involved on some level. His instincts nagged at him to pay attention when he wanted to look the other way. He’d pretended that his determination to get her to talk had been about finding the truth, but in reality he’d only wanted to protect her.
He knew that now.
His heart wouldn’t let him believe that Lacy could be too deeply involved in murder. But his cop training reminded him that desperate people took desperate measures. She and her friends would have done most anything to protect their own. Who wouldn’t?
So here he was, lying in bed, with his arms wrapped around the woman he loved like no other and he couldn’t be sure if she had been an accomplice in a homicide.
He eased out of bed, allowing her to gently sink into the pillows. He needed to think. Not that he figured it would do any good, but he had to try.
He tugged on his pants and padded barefoot to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then moved noiselessly back to the bedroom.
She’d gotten up, and was standing in the predawn light of the window staring out at morning’s rapidly changing colors. She’d wrapped the sheet around her slender body and he ached to take her into his arms.
“You sleep okay?” He knew for a fact she had, but he had to break the ice somehow.
She turned slowly to face him. Her smooth skin was still flushed with the intense physical activity of last night. Her lips were red and slightly swollen from their frantic kisses. Just looking at her made his mouth water for more and his body harden.
“I should go home.” She moistened her lips and glanced around the room, probably to avoid looking directly at him. “My parents might call.”
He plowed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” She scanned the floor, probably looking for her clothes. “I need to get dressed.”
He gathered her skirt, blouse and panties from the chair on his side of the bed. “I picked them up after you’d gone to sleep.”
The flush on her face deepened. “Good. I’ll just…” She gestured to the door. “Find the bathroom and get dressed.”
“First door on the left.”
She took the clothes from him, careful not to touch his hand and hurried out of the room.
Oh, yeah, she wasn’t just leaving, she was already gone.
He grabbed a clean shirt out of the closet and tugged it on. The smell of freshly brewed coffee lured him back to the kitchen. Might as well have some caffeine. The moment they’d shared was over…again.
Lacy closed her eyes, couldn’t look at her reflection.
The woman she saw in the mirror was one who’d been thoroughly attended to in every aspect of the phrase made love to. But that woman had let her guard down to the very man who could ruin all their lives.
What in the world had she been thinking?
Sadly, she’d had to ask herself that several times over the past few days. Apparently she’d lost all grasp of good sense.
Now she had to face Melinda and Kira with this hanging over her head.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to look at her reflection.
What had happened between her and Rick hadn’t been a bad thing. It had been magical…powerful. She’d felt safe and protected f
or the first time in a decade.
She couldn’t regret that. But she had to separate fantasy from reality.
Last night had been fantasy, an illusion of happiness.
Today was reality. Cassidy was dead. The past was hovering over their heads like a storm cloud prepared to rain all over their parade. But the rain was the least of their worries.
The person who’d killed Cassidy wouldn’t stop with just her. All four of them had hidden Charles’s murder and, apparently, one of them had killed him.
As much as she wanted to abide by what Cassidy had told them to do, she’d decided last night that her own strategy would be the best, in the cold, harsh light of day Lacy knew that Cassidy’s way would never stop whoever knew their secret.
Lacy had to figure this out. She had to find out who had made those calls to her. Whoever it was most likely was the person responsible for Cassidy’s death.
One way or another, Lacy would stop this.
She couldn’t let Rick or anyone else get in her way.
After washing up and slipping on her clothes, Lacy went in search of her host. She had to thank him and somehow make it clear that last night changed nothing about the investigation. She wasn’t talking to him…no matter what sort of threat he devised to use against her.
She shook her head. How could she think that about the man who’d made love to her so sweetly and fiercely last night?
The whole situation had turned upside down. She’d made the wrong move at every turn.
Last night was no exception.
Lacy walked into the living room, then found him in the kitchen. The coffee smelled amazing but she couldn’t stay, not even to share a cup of coffee.
“Thank you for taking care of me last night.” Her voice was stronger than she’d expected. Thank God for that. “I’d like you to take me home now.”
He lowered the cup in his hand to the counter. And even that totally asexual move took her breath away. His shirt wasn’t buttoned and his trousers hung low on his hips. But it was the day’s beard growth darkening his jaw that did the most damage to her defenses. Between the sexy stubble and the tousled hair, she wanted to turn right back around and climb into his bed for the next few days.