Through His Touch (Mind's Eye Book 2)

by Deborah Camp

  Sissy made a shooing motion with her hands. “Run along, Levi. I’m not fretting one bit about this news because I know you. She might be good for you, but you’re going to break that little gal’s heart.” She folded her arms and jutted out one hip. “She’ll want more than you’re able to give and then it’ll be over. She’ll expect you to marry her and we both know you’re not going there. Hon, gals like her don’t settle for just being screwed.”

  Her words stung him more than the flat of her hand had a minute ago. He went to the door and was glad when she retreated to her desk. “Catch you later, Sissy.”

  “Is she afraid to meet me?”

  He paused on the threshold and smiled. “Trudy? Afraid? Not in the least. She’s the bravest woman I know. As soon as I get caught up with my work and my life settles down, we’ll all go out to dinner.”

  “I look forward to it.” Her eyes glimmered with a mixture of anger and daring. “Be careful out there. You’ve upped your security, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. They’re all over me.” He exited her office, relieved to put that particular conversation behind him. He rubbed his cheek where his skin flamed. Making his way through the TV station with his security detail hot on his heels, he felt like an ego-inflated mini celebrity. He hated being tailed by Gonzo’s men, but with Heather Asher on the lam, he had no choice.

  His thoughts switched to the work he had waiting for him. He’d put so much on hold while he’d been in Key West that he was catching hell for it now. The week in Las Vegas hadn’t helped to clear his workload, but it had been booked for more than a year and he couldn’t reschedule or cancel it without a damn good reason. Visiting his new girlfriend in Oklahoma and spending a week in bed with her wasn’t a good enough one.

  And now his stalker was loose again and seeing Trudy was out of the question. Heather Asher could be following him and there was no way in hell he’d lead her to Trudy’s front door.

  He left the building. A limo purred at the curb, ready to whisk him away. His driver held the door open for him, flashing him a huge smile. “Thanks, Kenner.”

  “Always a pleasure, Mr. Wolfe,” Kenner said, dipping his head in deference.

  Kenner was always cheerful, Levi thought, wondering how he managed it. After all, he was an ex-con, having served 22 years for killing a man in a bar fight. Now at 45 years old, Kenner appeared to be a man on a mission – to enjoy every single day of freedom and stay on the right side of the law.

  “Did everything go well?” Kenner asked.

  “Yes. Back to the salt mines now.” Levi relaxed in the comfortable back seat and one of the security guys sat across from him. The other one followed them in a different vehicle. He concentrated on his cellphone, flipping through his e-mail inbox. So much crap . . . wait. An e-mail from Trudy. Sent three hours ago. He opened it.

  Happy Birthday, Leviticus David. I’m sorry for hanging up on you. Forgive me? Your Tru.

  He texted back. Thanks, Tru. You’re forgiven if you forgive me for not being there with you right now. I wish it could be different. Yours.

  He pocketed the cellphone and leaned the side of his face against the tinted window. That odd feeling circled his heart . . . the feeling that only Trudy conjured in him. Was Sissy right? Maybe all the shit going on in his life was a way of telling him not to involve Trudy in it. It wasn’t fair to her. She deserved better than to be in a relationship with someone who was being stalked by a mentally unstable fan and who was in therapy himself because of abandonment issues and stupid phobias. Did he have it in him to love her – to love anyone?

  By the time the limo pulled to a stop in front of the elevators in the underground parking garage, Levi had talked himself into a funk. He barely acknowledged Kenner again or the two security guards flanking him. He and the guards stepped into the elevator and Levi slammed the heel of his hand against the 8 button to the executive offices. As the elevator climbed to the top floor, he mentally sorted through the work waiting for him. The doors opened and he stepped out, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets, his gaze downcast as he thought of a set of blueprints he wanted to check out first before he—.

  Looking up, warmth spread through him like sunshine breaking through clouds. There she was – sitting on a bench in front of the elevators, a smile on that mouth of hers that pleasured him just to look at it – and he knew in that shining moment that Sissy didn’t know shit about him. He could make this work. He had to make this work. Without realizing it, he’d raised his hands to his chest to cover his thumping heart.

  “Happy Birthday, Levi,” Trudy said, her feelings for him unabashedly exposed in her green eyes. “Surprised?”

  Chapter 4

  What’s he thinking?

  Trudy swallowed the knot of tension in her throat and felt her smile waver as she waited for Levi to say something. Anything! But he continued to stand still, his hands resting on his chest. The two dark-suited security guards bracketing him glanced nervously from Levi to her and then back to Levi, as if waiting for instructions to either greet her or handcuff her.

  Her throat tightened with nerves as she took him in – this gorgeous, raven-haired, blue-eyed, sexy man in a sharply tailored, double-breasted black suit, dark blue shirt, loosened gray tie – this man was hers. She wanted to pinch herself. She wanted to leap into his arms and kiss him, be kissed by him, and feel his arms around her again.

  Instead, she gulped some air and hoped for the best because she couldn’t read his mood. She couldn’t tell if he was glad to see her or if he wished she were a mirage. “Don’t be mad—,” she started, but the rest was shaken from her as he moved in a flash to grasp her hands and haul her up from the bench and into his arms.

  “Thank God,” he murmured against her hair before his mouth crashed into hers.

  Trudy’s knees liquefied under the heat and hunger of his kiss and she would have fallen into a heap at his feet if he hadn’t held her up. She wanted to laugh and cry, all at the same time. She wrapped her arms around his neck, shocked and turned on at the near savagery of his kiss. Then he seemed to come back to himself, realize where he was, and his mouth softened on hers before pulling away slowly. She opened her eyes and found that his were that dark, dangerous blue that she had come to crave.

  “I guess you’re not mad at me,” she whispered.

  “I’m livid,” he whispered back.

  She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. He arched a brow and then looked past her, his gaze sweeping the area. He stepped back and captured one of her hands in his.

  “Come on,” he said, moving with her from the elevators, past a receptionist and a couple of secretaries sitting behind desks.

  She knew they were headed for his office because Gonzo had already introduced her to his personal assistant, an office manager, and an office intern. They had all, obviously, heard about her. Darla, an efficient 30-something brunette, who wore her hair in a sleek blunt cut, could barely suppress her smile and intense regard. The other women also found it difficult not to stare at Trudy. She wondered just what they’d been told about her.

  Gonzo lounged in a chair beside Darla’s desk. He grinned from ear to ear, obviously having enjoyed his part in the surprise.

  “Hello, sunshine,” he greeted Levi and then laughed when Levi glowered at him. “Are you going to unwrap your birthday present now?”

  “Get stuffed, Gonzo,” Levi growled, not breaking his stride as he moved toward a short hallway and his office door – made of stainless steel with the Wolfe logo etched into it. “Darla, deep six everything until further notice.”

  “Yes, sir,” Darla said, trying look serious, but her brown eyes were alight.

  Trudy shrugged at Gonzo as Levi ushered her into his office and closed the steel door. A large, dark desk sat in the corner, in front of a bank of windows. A laptop’s screen cast blue light across a black leather office chair. Papers and big, rolled up documents littered the desktop. She stepped forward. Was that . . ? She smiled, moving forward
to rest her fingertips on top of a crystal ball adorning one corner of his desk. It sat on a pedestal of intertwining jade dragons.

  “You’re a fortune teller now?” she asked.

  The sound of the door lock shifting into place turned her around to him. The fierce need stamped on his features as his gaze meandered from her silver leather pumps, up her simple, shirt-front, gray dress to her expectant expression made her knees wobble. Oh! He wanted her! That she could summon in him such desperation and passion still amazed her. She knew she must be flushed because she felt as if she had a fever – a fever for Mister Moody Blues.

  “Trudy Tucker, you’re beautiful.” His voice was raspy, heavy with lust.

  She sent him a shaky smile and felt herself grow damp. “I’m glad you still think so. I admit, I thought you might be having second thoughts.”

  “About what?”

  “Us.” She glanced to her left, suddenly feeling shy under his intense regard. Needing something to do, she walked to the wall to examine some framed, official looking documents hanging there. She drew in a breath. “Your diplomas,” she said, touching one of them. “Oh, gosh! You have one from Arthur Findlay College!”

  He chuckled and she looked at him again. She’d missed that sound – raspy and deep. And that smile . . . God help her, that lopsided smile of his always made her want to press her mouth to his.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “The way you said that – like it’s a treasure or a priceless object.”

  “I want to see that place for myself someday.” She shrugged and studied the other two diplomas, one from Duke and one from Georgia State. “I like that you’re smart.”

  “I like that you’re smart, too.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “You think I’m smart?”

  “I know you’re smart. I’ve seen you in action.”

  “Hmmm, well, yes. But you’re Mensa smart, aren’t you?”

  He lowered his dark, winged brows. “No.”

  “You could be in Mensa, couldn’t you?”

  He lifted one broad shoulder. “I guess. Yes.”

  “I like that.”

  “I’ll show you what I like.” He closed the distance between them, curved his hand at the back of her neck, and spun her around to press her spine against the wall next to his diplomas. Cupping her chin in his other hand, he kissed her once, twice, three times – each kiss deeper until his tongue mated with hers. “I need you, Tru, like I need air to breathe. I ache for you, crave you like I’m a goddamned addict. You shouldn’t be here, but thank Christ you are.”

  He smelled wonderful – that crisp, clean, citrus smell that she equated with him now. And something else . . . something sweet like a flower? She ran her hands over his inky hair. He kissed her ear, her jaw, the side of her neck. His hands were busy and she realized he was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.

  “We’re doing this here?” she asked, angling her head back as far as she could, which wasn’t far since she was flattened against the wall by his body. “In your office?”

  “Yes,” he hissed as his hands slipped under the hem of her skirt and smoothed up her legs to the bands of lace. “Oh, God, you have on thigh highs. I’m a goner for sure now.” She felt his fingers tremble and that sent a shiver through her. When he encountered her panties, he met her gaze for a hot second, grinned, and tore them right off her.

  “Levi!” She gasped, watching as he shoved her ruined pink panties into his pocket. “You do this often in here?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I do this never in here. Not until now. This minute.” He kissed her slack mouth and gripped her thighs, urging her to give a hop and wrap her legs around him. “Please, Tru. I’m so hard I hurt.” The need stamped on his features heated her blood to boiling. That he so obviously wanted her, craved her, made her feel powerful.

  “We’ll have to be very quiet,” she said, still not quite on board with this office quickie. It wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured their reunion. A bed had always been in that fantasy . . . and privacy . . . and their clothes had been off.

  “I have blue balls because of you,” he growled in her ear, shifting her against him. “This is going to be quick, but I swear I’ll make it up to you later.”

  She framed his face in her hands, making him pause and look into her eyes. Something tugged at her – a persistent shadow on her heart that made her feel slightly uneasy. She took a deep breath . . . that sweet flowery scent assailed her again. Gardenia?

  “Wait.” She gathered in a deep breath. “Levi, are you still mine? All mine?” She had to know. For the past few days, doubts had bedeviled her and made her worry that she’d stayed away from him too long and he’d given in to the temptation she knew surrounded him. Available women circled Levi like bees around a big, handsome blossom.

  He blinked at her and she could tell he didn’t understand what she was asking him at first, but then he winked at her as her meaning registered. “Yes, Tru. I’m yours. Every square inch of me.”

  “Thank God,” she breathed, rubbing her thumbs across his lower lip.

  “Hold up, baby.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I should have a condom somewhere in here . . .”

  “No, it’s okay.” She pulled his face around to her again. “Don’t you remember? I’m on the pill. It’s your birthday present from me.”

  His lips curved into a smile of pure seduction. “Nice. So, you’re okay with this? You trust me?”

  “You know I do.” She wound his hair around her fingers and gave a little tug. “The real question between us is do you trust me?”

  His eyes warred with hers for a few seconds and then he shifted her against him. Never letting go of her gaze, he moved one hand down between them to grip and guide himself into her. She sucked in her breath and tipped back her head as he obliterated the emptiness inside her.

  “Does that answer your question?” he asked, and then he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Oh, fuck, that feels good, baby. You feel like creamy, hot silk covering me.”

  Oh lord, she’d missed him, she thought. He seated himself even deeper and growled low in his throat. Skin on skin, she thought. But still not close enough. Would she ever feel close enough to him?

  “Open your eyes, Tru. Look at me.”

  She lifted her lashes to stare into his cobalt eyes. He pumped into her, almost roughly, flattening her against the wall. The color of his eyes darkened to midnight blue. His jaw tightened and he tipped back his head as he thrust his hips faster and she felt his climax crest and crash over him like a tsunami. He stilled for a few seconds before driving into her again once, twice more. He groaned, his hip thrusts diminishing, a shudder coursing through him.

  “Oh my God, Trudy . . .Tru, Tru, Tru” he said, panting her name.

  Trudy trembled and kissed his ear before biting the lobe lightly. Obviously, he’d missed her, she thought with a private thrill. It was a relief to know that she wasn’t the only one who’d been going through severe withdrawal symptoms.

  “You okay there, quick draw?”

  With a sighing chuckle, he let go of her and her legs slipped off his hips and down until her shoes touched the floor again. Lifting his head, he kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Well, that was embarrassing.”

  She pushed her fingers through his hair, combing a few errant strands off his forehead. Her body throbbed and she was uncomfortably aware of being without panties.

  “I came like a fourteen-year-old boy with his first girl. I didn’t think it would be that fast.” He stepped back, looking shamefaced. “You can use my private washroom, if you want.” He nodded to his left. “Over there.” As he spoke, he adjusted his trousers and zipped up.

  “Thanks.” She ran her fingertips down the side of his face. “And don’t apologize. It was hot.”

  “Yeah?” His brows arched and a grin poked at the corners of his wide mouth.

>   “Yeah.” She bit at the slight cleft in his chin. “You’ve still got it, Wolfe,” she tossed back over her shoulder as she crossed to the door he’d indicated.

  The washroom was so him. Neat, clean, and smelling of citrus. No flowery scents in here, she noted. Trudy took care of business, and when she joined him again in the office, she found him sitting behind his desk. His attention was riveted to a computer screen and blueprints were spread across the desk.

  She paused, drinking him in. He looked so different – a business man. Not a psychic – a business owner. And a wealthy one, at that. Could she fit into his world? Would he fit into hers?

  “Mr. Wolfe, I presume,” she said. “This is a side of you that’s still new to me.”

  “This is who I am most of the time.” He spun away from the computer screen to focus on her again. “But that’s going to change.”

  “Oh? How?”

  “That’s what we need to talk about.”

  She couldn’t say that she liked the sound of that, but she cautioned herself not to assume that it was a bad thing.

  “Before we talk, though, I want to take you home and feed you and then I want to make love with you.” He grinned and straightened his tie. “Did you notice that I said ‘make love’ instead of ‘fuck’?”

  “I noticed,” she said. “I might be rubbing off on you.”

  “Definitely.” He stood and ran a hand over her hair, his gaze heating. “I can hardly believe that you’re here.” He gave a little shake of his head as if emerging from a fog. “Listen. After dinner I have to come back here and work.”

  She laid the tips of her fingers against his lips. “I don’t want to keep you from your work or your life, Levi. I overheard Darla telling Gonzo that she was rushing to get all the reports you needed to look through before your meetings tomorrow. I don’t want to be a bother to you.”

  He hooked a hand around the back of her neck again and rested his forehead against hers. Lord, she loved when he did that.