by Tawny Taylor
I headed back out to his office. This time he looked up, raised an index finger, indicating I should give him a minute or two. Within a few seconds, he ended the call.
I started toward him, but he waved me back to my office. I got there before he did but hadn’t made it to my desk yet. He stepped inside and closed us in.
“Did you take care of that situation this morning?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” His gaze wandered up and down my body. The timing was ridiculous, but it seemed certain parts of my anatomy didn’t care. They warmed. “I’ve been on the phone with the investigator on and off all morning. He’s gathering a hell of a lot on your brother already. Did you get anything from him this morning?”
I pulled my legal pad out of my tote and handed it to him. “That’s all I got.”
He chewed his lower lip as he skimmed my notes. His brows furrowed. I hoped that meant he had caught something I’d missed. He handed it back to me. “We’re going to need a lot more than this if we’re going to keep your brother out of prison.”
My insides twisted. How horrible would it be for him to end up in prison for something he hadn’t done? After everything that he had done in the past, that would be cruel irony.
I toyed with the edge of the pad. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. But he swears that’s all he knows.”
Pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against, Kam crossed his arms over his chest and began pacing the floor. “Let’s talk this through. We have the theft of something that was in your brother’s possession immediately prior to being stolen.”
“Is there a reason why you aren’t telling me what that item is?” Mirroring him, I wrapped my arms around my body.
He halted, stopping directly in front of me. His gaze met mine. “There is.”
“Which is?”
“You’re going to have to trust me on that.” Returning to pacing, he said, “The item was then sold to our competitor for an unknown figure. Your brother’s whereabouts were unknown at the suspected time of the sale, and he is not able to adequately prove where he was. He had called in sick, missing three days of work. Maybe we should start there? I want you to call everyone he knows and find out if anyone can testify to his whereabouts during the days immediately leading up to his dismissal.”
“I can do that, but wouldn’t it make more sense for you to hire your own investigator to find out the truth? I’m no Nancy Drew.”
“I’m looking into that as we speak.” His expression softened. Once again, he stopped pacing. He stepped closer, wrapped his big hands around my arms, holding me gently. His thumbs skimmed back and forth over the cotton of my blouse. The nerves underneath fired hot. “But it isn’t easy finding someone trustworthy. You care about your brother. You love him. You don’t want to see him going to prison. That makes you far more likely to work hard to protect him.”
“True, but don’t private investigators have access to computer databases and stuff like that?”
“I doubt it. And even if they did, do you think that’s going to help at this point?”
“I don’t know.”
To me, Kam’s argument for not having hired a private investigator seemed a little weak. Surely a professional would do a far better job getting to the truth than little ole me.
“Can you get the phone numbers of your brother’s friends?” he asked.
“I have his cell phone.”
“Good. Call them. Call them all. Find out where he was every minute of every day, especially the three days he missed work.” Releasing me, he reached past me, grabbing the doorknob to leave.
I caught his arm. “Thank you for believing he’s innocent.”
“I didn’t say I believed he’s innocent. I don’t. But I’m giving you the opportunity to prove I’m wrong.” After that stinger, he left.
Now I was more determined than ever to help my brother. It was Joss and me against everyone.
Once again.
As always.
I wondered if that would ever change.
That afternoon I started at the top of his contacts list and worked my way down. I talked to two people and left a lot of messages. The two I talked to hadn’t seen him during those days.
Things were not looking good.
By six o’clock I was getting frustrated. And yes, I was feeling defeated too. I shut down my computer and headed out. Kam’s desk was empty. So was Stephanie’s. I stopped at a grocery store to pick up some of my brother’s favorite foods before taking the long drive out to the safe house.
Once there, I parked, loaded my arms up with the bags of food, and headed up to the front door. I knocked. No answer. I tried the door. Unlocked. I called my brother’s name as I let myself in.
He didn’t respond.
Please tell me he didn’t do something stupid!
After setting the bags on the kitchen table, I ran from room to room, calling his name. He wasn’t in a bedroom or bathroom. I dashed outside and checked the yard. There was a path that cut through the tall trees lining the far end of the property. I ran down the path, hoping he’d just gotten a little stir crazy and needed some fresh air. The path, I soon learned, opened to a narrow, private beach on a small lake. I looked left and right. I checked the water. No sign of my brother.
“Dammit!” I yelled into the still quiet. “Damn you!”
Furious, tears gathering in my eyes, I stomped back up the path. When I was hidden under the cover of the band of trees, I plopped down on a fallen tree and dropped my face into my hands.
Was I the only one who cared whether he went to jail?
Maybe that was my problem. Maybe I needed to distance myself, allow him to pay the consequences for his mistakes.
But he didn’t steal anything. This time he would be paying the consequences for something he hadn’t done.
But he wasn’t exactly cooperating with my efforts to clear him either.
“I should let them haul you off to prison,” I grumbled. “If you aren’t going to accept my help, then why should I keep fighting you? Why?”
Now more angry than upset, I shot to my feet, a plan worked out in my head. As long as I was able, I would try to prove his innocence. But I was through protecting him. Done. Finis.
As I emerged from the woods, I caught sight of a shadow passing across the wide glass doors leading onto the deck.
Oh, thank God!
I ran toward the house, let myself in. I called his name as I rushed through the living room, turned the corner, and nearly ran smack-dab into Kam.
“What the hell?” I shouted, stunned. I wobbled, arms wheeling.
He caught me by the waist. “He’s gone.”
“He’s gone?” The air left my lungs in a rush, and I staggered. “Do you know where?”
“He’s safe.”
It took several seconds for what Kam said to sink in. When it did, I practically collapsed against him. “Oh, thank God. What’s going on?”
“It wasn’t safe for him to stay here, so I gave him enough cash to keep him for a while and told him to disappear.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know. That was the point. I didn’t want either of us to know where he is. I didn’t want you or me connected with him until we get this mess straightened out.”
I was relieved but at the same time shocked and angry. How could he do something like this? Slap a couple of dollars in my brother’s hands and shove him out the door? “But he might need—”
“Please don’t worry. He has enough money to take care of anything he might need and then some.” He ran his hands down my arms. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let him stay here any longer. The investigator is hot on his heels now. He would’ve been found.”
I felt tears burning my eyes. This was the first time in a long while that I felt powerless to help him. I didn’t know where he was, didn’t know what he was doing or whether he needed me. I laughed and sobbed at the same time. “I mu
st look silly, crying like this. He’s an adult, after all.”
Kam dried my tears with his hand. “No, baby. Not silly at all. You love him. You’re his surrogate mother. Of course you’re worried.”
“We need to find out who really stole whatever it was.”
“You still believe it wasn’t him?” Kam asked.
“I do.”
Gently, he smoothed my hair back. His gaze was locked on mine. “What did you find out from his friends?”
“Not much. He talked to one of them last week. He told her he was in Toledo, taking care of a problem for a friend. That was it.”
“Okay, so if we can find out who that friend was or where he went, that might help us out.”
“Maybe. But I don’t know where to start looking. Are you sure it wouldn’t be a good idea to hire our own investigator?”
“I’d rather keep up the appearance that neither one of us is involved, especially you. One of the reasons why I had to send your brother away was you. The investigator is looking at you too. If he started tailing you, you’d lead him right to your brother.”
“I understand now.” I walked to the closest chair and sat. I was feeling weak. Worn out. “What a mess this is.”
“It is a mess. You’ve got to hang on, be strong.”
Be strong. I had been. For so long. Longer than he realized.
“I hope I can do that. I’ve always been able to before.” I curled my legs, tucking my knees under my chin and wrapping my arms around my shins. “But it’s getting harder and harder to be strong. Do you know what I mean?”
“I sure do.” He sat on the couch next to me and pulled me onto his lap. I cuddled up to him, once again relishing how safe I felt in his arms.
I felt our breaths matching. I felt my heart beat slowing. I felt my muscles relaxing and the awful knot in my belly unraveling. I tipped my head up and met his gaze. His eyes were dark. His face, except for a tiny muscle along his jaw, was relaxed. My gaze inched down to his mouth. The memory of our last kiss flashed in my head, and my heart started beating hard again.
Kam palmed the side of my head. His tongue dampened his lips. My blood warmed.
“I can’t,” he murmured.
“You can’t what?” I whispered.
“Kiss you.”
I felt myself leaning toward him. “Did I ask you to kiss me?”
“Didn’t you?” He cupped my chin, lifting it.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. His mouth was right there. Inches from mine.
“I think you did.” He lowered his head slightly. Tipped it to one side.
“M-maybe I did.”
“Mmmm.” His head inched down a little more.
My breath caught in my throat. My eyelids dropped, enclosing me in soothing blackness.
When his lips met mine, I gasped.
He groaned.
His lips were soft, supple. They caressed mine gently at first, the kiss a sweet torment. I lifted my arms, draping them over his shoulders and surrendered. When I parted my lips, his tongue slipped inside.
This was a kiss that made my brain turn to mush. Made me want to give him everything I had, everything I was. It made me wish I was his to kiss and tease and torment forever.
When it ended, I struggled to breathe. My heavy eyelids lifted. I stared into his fiery eyes. He looked dangerous and feral. A man. A beast.
“I’m so fucking weak with you,” he said.
“Are you?”
“Yes.” The hand that had been holding my chin slid down to my neck. His fingers curled. He didn’t choke me, but he held my throat. It was a strangely thrilling sensation, having him grasping my neck like that, looking at me with smoldering eyes.
“Your pupils are so wide, I swear I can see into your soul.”
That was a weirdly provocative thing to say. I felt my top teeth bite into my lower lip. I tasted him. I smelled him. I felt him. “What do you see?” I asked.
“A woman who loves too hard.”
“Can you do that?”
“You can. If it means you’re the only one who is willing to make sacrifices.”
“What about you?”
“I can’t love.” Something flashed in his eyes, and I sensed something, an invisible wall, sliding between us.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” I challenged, reacting to the strange, uncomfortable separation I felt.
“Maybe both.” He leaned back, creating an even greater sense of separation.
A cold chill sliced straight through me. “Why?”
“Because I won’t make sacrifices.”
“Isn’t love worth it?”
He shook his head. “Not from what I’ve seen, no.”
Cold turned to hot again as simmering anger replaced chilly loss. “Maybe what you’ve seen isn’t the whole truth.”
“Maybe. But I’m not willing to take the chance.”
“I see.” I tensed my leg muscles, using them to push myself to my feet.
He let me stand but held onto one of my wrists. His eyes were full of emotion as they tracked my movement. It was as if he wanted to comfort me but was afraid of something.
Crazy. A man like him, afraid.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
I glanced down at his hand, still holding my wrist, keeping me from leaving. “Am I?”
He tipped his head and studied me. “You should.”
“I should,” I echoed. “I guess I am, then.”
His gaze left my face. His fingers loosened. “Go. Find something to prove your brother’s innocence.”
“I’m going to do my best.” I took a couple of steps away but then turned right around and flung myself into his arms. I clung to him, ear pressed to this chest. His rapid heartbeat pounded in my head. “Thank you,” I said. “For helping him, even though you don’t believe he’s innocent.”
“You’re welcome.” He had tensed up. I could feel it.
With great effort, I managed to back out of his arms. I clenched my hands, fighting the urge to flatten myself against him again. “I’m sorry,” I said, my gaze dropping to the floor. “I guess . . . I’m confused. I need a friend, and you’ve been so great.”
He lifted my chin and gazed deeply into my eyes. “Sweet Abigail. There’s nothing wrong with needing a friend. There’s nothing wrong with needing to be held. I’m the problem. Me. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“When you get near, I . . . have certain urges.” His neck turned an interesting shade of red.
“Okay, that I get.”
“We started off on a bad note. My fault. I’m trying to make things right, to treat you as you deserve. But when you come too close . . .” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ve said it before. I’m weak.”
“No weaker than me,” I confessed. “I feel the same way.” My heart started thumping hard in my chest. “I want you to touch me. I crave your kiss.”
“But you know what kind of man I am.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “You deserve so much better than me. I’ll use you up until there’s nothing left.”
“Won’t you give me a chance to find that out?”
His eyes widened. “Are you saying you aren’t afraid?”
“I’m saying I am afraid, but that isn’t going to stop me from wanting you.”
He scooped me into his arms and gave me a crushing kiss. My head spun as he carried me across the room, kicked open a bedroom door, and laid me on the bed. The kiss didn’t end. Not when he practically tore my clothes off me, or when I did the same with his. Nor when he climbed over me. Within minutes I was burning for him, from head to toe. Writhing and groaning and whimpering. He cupped a breast, kneading its fullness and I arched my back, spine tightening.
Yes, at last I’d told him what I wanted. Finally we’d disposed of the shoulds and should nots. We wanted each other. There was no reason why we had to deny ourselves.
I reached up, raking my fingernails down his chest,
and he grabbed my wrists and forced them up, over my head. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he growled.
“Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Both?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Mmmm.”
Holding my wrists in one fist, he reached and grasped.
“What are you doing?”
“I need something to tie your wrists.”
A little shiver of anticipation zigzagged through me. While it did intimidate me somewhat that he seemed to need to tie me up almost every time we had sex, I also enjoyed being powerless and completely under his control. It was a secret thrill, feeling so utterly immobilized.
He found my bra, used it to bind my wrists together. Then he sat up on his knees and looked down at me. My blood burned at the fire I saw in his eyes. He was a beautiful, powerful, slightly dangerous man. And he made me feel things I never thought I’d feel.
“Open your legs for me,” he commanded in that voice that sent shivers up and down my spine.
I bent my knees and eased them apart, exposing myself to his dark gaze.
A wave of throbbing heat pulsed there, where his gaze was fixed. I wriggled and tried to catch my breath.
“Your pussy is so sweet. Tight and wet for me.”
I whimpered. “Yes. Yes.”
“But you’re not ready yet. No.”
14
Wasn’t ready for him? Really?
How much more ready could a girl be? My inner walls clenched. All I could think about was his thick rod stroking in and out, in and out, pounding deep and hard.
He turned his attention back to my breasts. As he weighed the fullness of each one, he tormented the other’s nipple, pinching, tugging, pulling it until little blades of pleasure-pain pierced my body. I alternated between arching toward his touch and shrinking away from it. It hurt, but good.
So good.
He crawled off the bed.
“Where are you going?” I asked, desperately hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Standing over me, he flicked the nipple he’d been torturing and smiled. “You look so pretty like this, burning for me. I can barely stand to leave you. Even for just a moment.”
So why was he going? What could be so important that he had to leave right now?