“No it wasn’t,” he said and pursed his lips. “It would also explain her comments about James wanting strong children and available mares and farms. Someone who’d given birth to a child with a genetic disorder, especially one associated with the X chromosome, would be unsuitable stock and relegated to a subservient position. Just when I thought I’d heard it all, I learn something new about my uncle’s perverted beliefs, and I can’t understand why anyone would’ve followed him. The man’s quite clearly insane. ”
• • •
The press was having a field day with the bombing, and the commissioner insisted the task force deal with it immediately. Despite her trepidation, Lilith refused to let her fear of what might be keep her from doing her job. Trevor was right. Her tormentor could easily have been one of the nine men killed in the raid on the FFOW. They’d all been guarding Rivers, and if that bastard tormenting her had been anywhere, it would have been at his “savior’s” side. So by six o’clock, instead of doing research in the Park Plaza suite, Lilith found herself back downtown in front of the microphones again. Meeting the press when you had very little information you could give was a bitch, but she’d been very clear: the bombing was a personal attack on the task force, instigated by former FBI agent Garett Pierce. She’d given the reporters the sketch they’d made of him in his disguise and mentioned that he was also the prime suspect in the murder-kidnappings. When one of the reporters had asked why he was kidnapping children, she’d fed them the line about potentially selling the children on the black market and had added that the van they were looking for had Vermont plates that started with the letters HN. They couldn’t be certain it did, but it was a place to start.
Now, two hours later, she was pushing away the remnants of the seafood dinner they’d ordered from room service and reaching for the glass of white wine that had accompanied the amazing meal.
“That was excellent, thank you. I’m so stuffed, I don’t feel like working,” she said, sipping the contents of her glass, “but we need to finish up. It’s hard to believe it’s almost nine.”
“I know. I guess, like Faye said last night, ‘time flies when you’re having fun.’ We work well together; we’ve accomplished a lot.” He indicated the chart they’d made when they’d returned from the press conference. They’d taken the facts they’d learned from reexamining the files on New Horizon and matched them with the information they’d gotten at the jail. He topped up her wine with the last of the half-liter carafe and set it aside. “You’ve had a long day. Are they always like this? You were at the bombing well past midnight, and then back at the station before I arrived at eight.”
She yawned. “When we’re in a middle of a case, we don’t get a lot of sleep. Normally, in my job, those long hours are spent in a cubicle doing research. I look at the evidence provided by the field agents, create a profile based on it and my experience, and then help catch the bad guy. During my down time, I use the resources at my disposal to search for Rose.” And Kelly.
“It sounds like a solitary existence. Don’t you date, go out with friends, let your hair down once in a while?”
“I let my hair down every night,” she said and chuckled, “but if you mean do I go out and party, then the answer’s no. I decided long ago that my job has to come first. Reuniting families and putting the bad guys away satisfies me.” And while she did get lonely at times, there were too many skeletons in her closet to invite anyone in. She’d had more fun tonight with Jacob than she’d had in a very long time, even if most of it had been work. “What about you, Mr. Rich and Famous? I’ll bet you have a busy après work life.”
He shook his head. “When I wasn’t on an undercover case, I spent most of my time with Andrew. He was my best friend. We traveled, worked hard, prospected, basically did whatever we wanted, but I have no desire to settle down. He used to bemoan that fact, saying he wanted to play with his great-grandchildren before he died, but every time he sang that tune, I distracted him with one of the worker’s kids.”
“Will you change that, now that he’s gone?”
“I thought I was going to with Eloise, but now, I’m not sure.” Jacob gazed into her eyes, and she caught her breath. “Finding a woman and settling down sounds good until I remember whose DNA I’m carrying ...”
“He’s your uncle, not your father. You have only a few alleles in common. From what you said, your father and mother were good people, and thanks to Andrew, you’re a good person.” The intensity in his gaze made her nervous, and she looked away, breaking the spell. “Do you think the files are here?” she pointed to his tablet.
He stood, went over to the desk, and brought up his e-mail. “Yes. He sent them in three files, so we should be able to download them to your computer from a USB drive.”
Back in work mode, Lilith transferred the files and opened them.
“Jacob, it’s gorgeous,” she said, looking at pictures of his farm, the fields lush with fruit. “It makes me want to go with them. What’s in this one?”
She clicked on the file and looked into the gaping jaws of a crocodile. “Holy shit. Changed my mind. Thanks, but no thanks. You aren’t going to show them that, are you?”
“I am.”
“What the hell is it? It’s huge. It looks like something that belongs in a Jurassic Park movie.”
“It’s a saltwater crocodile. That male was just shy of twenty-one feet long and weighed almost 3,000 pounds. He was killed near Darwin. Australia is beautiful, but it’s dangerous, too.” He opened the file and showed her images of snakes and spiders, as well as jellyfish and sharks.
“That’s a spider?” She pointed at the picture of the giant huntsman spider. “That damn thing has to be a foot long! No wonder you wanted to shoot it. I don’t think there’s a can of insecticide big enough to take that sucker down. I’m not so sure the offer you’ve made the cult members is so great after all.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Most of the spiders aren’t anywhere near that large, and I do have safety devices in place on the farm to keep the larger predators away. The cult members need to know there are dangers that can’t be ignored, which is why I’ll have people watching their backs.”
Together they blended the three files into what Lilith felt was a realistic portrait of Jacob’s home. She was about to turn off the computer when his tablet chimed, indicating he’d received another message.
“It’s from Toba. He’s ordered eight Quonset hut homes erected. They should be ready for occupancy in a week’s time, well before the Prophet’s second plague. They’ll be furnished and come with air conditioning and all the modern conveniences. Each one has two bedrooms. I’ll let them decide tomorrow how they want to occupy them. Married couples might like to have their own space.”
“Do you think there will be some?”
“I’m not sure. Ellie and Seth were married when I lived there, but with all the strange changes courtesy of the manifesto and polygamy, that may have changed.”
“Is there polygamy in Australia?”
“Not that I’m aware of. It’s illegal. Let’s hope only the Chosen played that game.” He downloaded other images and brought them to her. “Add these to the end of the slide show. They’re the Quonset huts he’s ordered. If the colonists, as Toba’s calling them, arrive before the structures are ready, they can stay in the main house or the seasonal workers’ bunk house for a few days.”
Lilith stood, stretched her back, and rolled her shoulders. She yawned.
“Stiff?” Jacob asked, putting his hands on her back near her neck and massaging her shoulders.
The sensation of his hands on her body and the magic he was weaving with his thumb forced a moan from her, and she leaned into him.
“That feels so good,” she said aloud. “You’ve obviously done this before ... oh yeah ... right there.”
His hands stopped moving, and he slowly turned her toward him. Lilith saw the desire in his eyes and, possibly because she was so tired, she chose to ignore t
he danger sign flashing in her brain. When he bent his lips to kiss her, she moved toward them, entranced by a primitive need coursing through her.
The kiss began softly, no more than a mere flutter of a butterfly’s wing against her mouth, and then it deepened, setting off a conflagration inside her unlike anything she’d ever experienced. His tongue licked her lips, begging for admission, and she opened them, silently giving him permission to take the kiss to the next level.
She didn’t think, didn’t breathe, letting the sensations roll over her as he expertly explored the inside of her mouth, her tongue meeting his in a primal mating ritual it remembered from another time long past. His kiss was both hungry and giving. What he wanted from her, he gave in kind, and she relished the sense she’d always been heading to this place, this man, this time. Surrendering to her need, she returned the kiss eagerly, giving as he gave, taking as he took. Time stood still as she fed from him as she’d never done before.
The kiss went on forever, and she let herself forget who she was and where she was. But, as it always did, that part of her brain that eschewed closeness registered his hardness against her and screamed a warning, pulling her out of her trancelike state. When his hand slipped beneath her sweater and caressed her back, panic filled her, and she pushed him away. It was like being doused in ice water.
“No, stop. You can’t—I can’t. I’m sorry.” She wrenched herself out of his arms and ran to the bathroom before he saw the tears in her eyes, before he realized what the welts on her back were.
Closing the door behind her and locking it, she leaned against it, her heart pounding, her breath coming in quick pants, unable to draw the life-giving oxygen she needed from the air. How could she have been so careless? Yes, she’d felt more alive than she’d felt in years, had reveled in the wonder of being in his arms, but it couldn’t be.
Kisses would never be enough for any man. Now that Andrew was gone, he was alone, but she couldn’t be the one to ease his loneliness. Her fiancé had said the scars didn’t matter, but he’d lied. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t touch her, and when she’d confronted him with the fact that the marks would always be there, he’d countered with a demand she give up her job and her search for Rose. It was an excuse, a way out of what had become an untenable position for him, but the pain it had caused had almost broken her again.
Bill had then made terrible accusations, each one a knife wound to her heart, but the last one had proven to be a fatal blow to whatever future they might have had. She sat silent under his barrage while that brand burned its way onto her soul.
But Bill had been right. It wasn’t the search for Rose that kept her on this job, it was the chance that someday, at a time of her choosing, she’d confront the man with the cold, gray eyes and reap vengeance on him. There was no room for love in a heart filled with hatred ... and if Trevor were right and the demon was dead, how would she ever set that hatred aside?
Raising her sweater up to expose her abdomen, her gaze settled on the crisscross of scars from the whip and the brand, the mark burned into her stomach by a cruel and heartless monster—a capital T with an X over it, identifying her for all time as a traitor, condemned by the son of God himself.
She dropped her sweater and turned on the faucet. A plastic surgeon had said the brand was too deep to cover fully. He might be able to lighten it, but it would be impossible to obliterate. The doctor had suggested she cover it with a tattoo. Well, it had worked for Eloise, but hiding it under ink wouldn’t make it go away, and there were all the other marks, too.
Running the water, she washed her face, hoping to erase the tears. No one needed to know she cried. No one needed to understand how bereft she felt, how devastated she was.
That kiss had been a huge mistake. She’d known if she gave in to her attraction for Jacob, she’d regret it, and she did. Allowing herself to feel the way she had would leave a hunger inside her she’d never be able to satisfy. She’d apologize to Jacob for her behavior, ask him to forget it had happened, and retreat behind the mask of professionalism she wore. Somewhat calmer, she opened the door. Jacob stood by the window, an empty glass in his hand.
He looked up when she came out.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Jacob. I’m sorry ...” She swallowed the bitter lump in the throat. “If I gave any indication we could be more than partners and friends ...”
“Stop, please,” he said softly. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who needs to beg yours.” His Australian accent was stronger than it had been earlier. “I was out of line. I don’t want to ruin what we have, Lilith. We’re partners in this, but I want us to be friends, too. I don’t have many friends—acquaintances, yes, but real friends, no. A man needs friends. I’ve learned that. I promise not to overstep my boundaries again. It’s late. I think we should call it a night. We’ve finished what we set out to do. I’ve called, and the detail is expecting you downstairs shortly.”
She nodded, but the ache of what might have been was heavy on her heart, reminding her once more that the road she’d chosen had to be traveled alone.
“You’re right. We’re tired, and we both need sleep. “I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock,” she said, reaching for her purse and jacket. She pulled on her boots. “I’ll get the rest of these things when I pick you up in the morning.”
He set his glass on the table. “I’ll escort you downstairs.” He opened the suite door.
Unable to say anything else lest she break down in tears again, confused by the way she felt as if she’d lost something precious, Lilith preceded him to the elevators. They rode down in heavy silence. At the main floor, he walked her to her waiting car. The gray car was waiting behind hers. She nodded to the men and turned to Jacob.
“Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” She opened the driver’s door and got in. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be waiting. Try to get some sleep,” he said, closing her door.
She nodded and pulled the car away from the curb and back into traffic, checking every few minutes to ensure her escort was behind her and forcing herself not to think of Jacob’s kiss.
Chapter Seventeen
Jacob watched the lights as the cars pulled away from the hotel and stood there staring into the darkness long after there was nothing left to see. He reentered the building, but he couldn’t face going up to his room just yet. Instead, he went into the lobby bar. When the bartender came over, he ordered a double scotch on the rocks.
How could he have been such an idiot? If he hoped their working relationship might become something more, it was kaput now. He prayed they’d be able to recapture the camaraderie they’d had earlier. They made an excellent team, and he wanted that to continue. What on earth had possessed him to touch her in the first place?
Hearing her moan when his hands rubbed her shoulders created an overwhelming need he hadn’t expected. Desire flooded him and when he kissed her, it felt like coming home, as if he’d been at that place in time before, had held her in his arms. He’d forgotten himself in the sensation of the moment.
Andrew used to talk about soul mates, as if it were possible for people to live, love, die, and be reborn to find one another and love again in a new lifetime—a place where they could pick up where they’d left off and be happy once more. He’d always considered that to be an old man’s fantasy.
He raised the glass to his lips, and let the fine scotch burn away the bitter regret. She’d responded to his kiss—of that he had no doubt. It hadn’t been until he’d put his hand on her bare back, wanting to feel her flesh against his that she’d panicked, and it had definitely been panic. He’d glimpsed the fear and tears in her eyes when she fled, had seen the vestiges of those tears when she’d returned.
What was she so afraid of? He’d never hurt her, but someone had, and Jacob would love to get his hands on the jerk. She’d mentioned she’d almost gotten married when she’d told him about her quest to find her niec
e, Rose. Had it been him? A man stupid enough to let a prize like her slip through his fingers? Was that why she was determined to go it alone?
Finishing the scotch, Jacob dropped a twenty on the bar, didn’t wait for change, and returned to his suite. As soon as he entered the room, the light, lingering scent of her perfume assailed him, bringing with it a hunger he’d have to suppress.
When Andrew had been alive, he’d never felt the depth of loneliness he did now. He hadn’t lacked for female company, but there’d never been anyone he wanted in his life the way he wanted Lilith. Maybe the need to touch her was nothing but lust. How long had it been since he’d had sex? When it’s been so long you can’t remember, you’re in trouble, mate.
“It isn’t just lust,” he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty room. “I like her, admire her. I want to show her all the sights I’ve seen, make her laugh like she did today. I want to take her surfing, show her Uluru and all the places Andrew loved.”
The last word stopped his tirade. Love. For the first time in his life he realized he could easily fall in love. With Lilith Munroe. But the lady had made it clear nothing could happen between them, and the thought left him more depressed than ever.
He turned out the lights in the living room and headed into his bedroom. He needed sleep, and he doubted he’d get much tonight.
• • •
Lilith pulled up in front of the hotel where Jacob stood holding her computer case and the file folder. She’d slept fitfully—confusing dreams mixing with nightmares had left her tired and irritable—and she hoped she could keep it all together.
Jacob put the computer and file folder on the backseat and then got into the car. Judging from the tired look on his face, he hadn’t slept any better than she had, and it was probably her fault.
The White Lily Page 25