Through His Touch (Mind's Eye Book 2)

by Deborah Camp

  “Damn it to hell, Tru, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured as he dragged his mouth from hers and stared into her wide, winsome eyes. “You should warn a man, you know?”

  She laughed softly and brushed the pad of her thumb across his lips, then showed him the smeared mulberry color. “Look what you’ve done, bad boy.”

  “It’s your fault.”

  “Mine? What did I do? You molested me!”

  “That’s because of how you look in this . . . this!” He stood back, holding one of her hands as he gave her a thorough once-over and made her twirl for him. Damn, her legs looked fantastic. His cock twitched as he thought of how those legs could circle him, haul him close, envelope him. “Where’d you get this dress?”

  “I’ve had it for a couple of years,” she said, giving a careless shrug. “I think I’ve worn it once. I got it at a resale shop in Tulsa. So, it’s okay?”

  A chuckle bubbled up from his chest. A resale shop? This woman of his was an original. He kissed her again, smearing her lipstick even more. “I’m going to be walking around with a stiff one all evening.”

  “A stiffie?” she asked, laughing.

  “Yes, and those heels. You’ve been holding out on me, Tru.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve had no reason to wear them before tonight and I’m not crazy about them. I like comfortable footwear.”

  “Me, too, but when they look that good . . .” He rocked his hard length against her. “Fuck comfort.”

  “Simmer down there, Studley.” She backed away from him. “Go wipe my lipstick off your mouth and chin and let me fix my face again. Your guests will begin arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

  He left her to go to the bureau. Opening the top drawer where he kept his handkerchiefs, pocket squares, and socks, he pushed aside a stack of socks and his fingers closed around the velvet-covered jewelry box he’d brought back from Los Angeles. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he joined her in the bathroom where she was dabbing at her ruined lipstick with a damp washcloth. She met his gaze in the mirror.

  “Come here and I’ll wash your face. I might even wash your mouth out with soap while I’m at it.”

  He stood behind her and opened the jewelry box. The gold necklace twinkled in the overhead lights. Gently he removed the delicate chain and held it up higher for Trudy to catch sight of in the mirror.

  “For you,” he said, his smile growing when she stared at him, mouth agape.

  “What have you done?” she asked, turning around and catching the swinging gold, diamond outlined disk hanging from the necklace. She peered at the engraved letters on one side of the nickel-sized disk. “SYS.” She tipped her head, giving him a baffled look. Then she turned it over. “BNSE.”

  He saw the moment it clicked with her because her eyes widened and then grew moist. Her sweet smile made his heart expand with joy.

  “See you soon,” she said, then swallowed.

  “But not soon enough,” he finished for her. “You like it?”

  She bobbed her head so enthusiastically that the soft curls of her hair danced on her head. “Put it on me.” Giving him her back again, she waited for him to slip the chain around her neck and secure it. Her fingertips stroked it as she leaned closer to the mirror for a better look. “It’s perfect, Levi. Absolutely perfect.”

  “A jeweler I know in L.A. made it for me.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed the side of her neck. “Beautiful.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me, Levi.”

  His eyes met hers in the mirror. “You’re on my mind more that you know, Tru.”

  She picked up the washcloth and turned in his arms to wipe the lipstick off his mouth. Taking her time, she made a meal of it, tracing his lips, massaging them, stroking them with the tip of the cloth. “All gone,” she whispered. “You’re ready to welcome your guests.”

  “Thanks.” He leaned toward her, but she danced away from him.

  “Oh, no! Go on and let me repair my makeup. Check to see if Wes needs anything and if Quintara is ready.”

  “Give a woman a gift and what does she do? Orders you around like a dog,” he groused, but left her to the makeup mirror, her laughter following him out of the bathroom.

  He found Wes in the dining room with Quintara. Trays of hors d’oeuvres lined the long table along with two huge vases of flowers. The bartender he’d hired was stationed at the kitchen island with two mixers and a blender at the ready along with bottles of vodka, brandy, scotch, rum, and whiskey. Quintara swished about in purple, wide-legged pants and a loose top of purple and pink swirls of sequins. Several ropes of multi-colored beads swung from her neck and she wore jeweled rings on every finger. She posed prettily for him before he kissed her rouged cheeks.

  “You are, as usual, a lusty, busty enchantress,” he told her, making her laugh. “You’re going to behave yourself tonight, aren’t you? Every man who will be here tonight, present company excluded, is married. Keep that in mind.”

  “You’re wrong.” Her eyes glimmered with sinful delights. “The bartender isn’t married.” She turned and blew a kiss to the thirty-something barkeep. “And Melvin the security guard is recently divorced.”

  Levi chuckled and wagged his index finger at her just as he heard the elevator door ping. He pivoted and went to welcome his first guests. Two of Gonzo’s security guards stood in the foyer. He knew that two others were down in the lobby. Another one, along with his regular chauffeur, Kenner, dealt with valet parking for his guests.

  Angela Cochran and her husband were the first to arrive. He welcomed them and then others filed in, one after the other. Busy with greeting them, Levi wasn’t aware that Trudy had entered the room until he noticed a hush in the conversations. Glancing around, he saw a blushing Trudy coming toward him. He reached out and grasped her hand.

  “Hi, beautiful.” He brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss. “Everyone, this is my Trudy. Trudy Tucker, let me introduce you to some other important people in my life.” He meant to introduce her first to Angela, but Sissy Franklin chose that moment to make her entrance.

  Poured into a fire engine red silk sheath that hugged her voluptuous curves, Sissy was dressed to kill. Her small feet were wedged into black stilettos and she held a small black purse in one hand. The neckline of her dress dipped dangerously low, far enough to command the eye, but not far enough for anyone to call it slutty. Sissy had a knack for treading that line with the finesse of a gymnast. Her gaze lit on him and then slid suggestively to Trudy.

  “As I live and breathe, can this be Miss Trudy Tucker in person?” she gushed, taking mincing steps toward Trudy and actually bussing her on the cheek, leaving a light lipstick imprint. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, hon. I’m sure we all are, aren’t we?” She glanced around the room, smiling at the people who had stopped their conversations to give her the floor. “It’s a wonder your ears aren’t charred black, darlin’! People have been talking about you ever since the whole Key West serial killer case. Looks to me like Levi has plumb forgot his manners, so let me introduce myself.” She held out her hand. “I’m Sissy Franklin, a dear friend of Levi’s.”

  Trudy shook her hand. “I know. I recognize you from your television show, which I watch whenever possible. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I know that Levi is very fond of you.”

  It was all Levi could do not to gape openly at Trudy or allow the bark of surprised laughter to escape his chest. He pressed his lips together to keep both reactions to himself as he looked from one woman to another, waiting for the next volley. His girl had grit! After her less-than-subtle pique of unfounded jealousy toward Sissy, he’d wondered how Trudy would react to seeing her in person. He’d hoped that she wouldn’t allow Sissy to run roughshod over her and now he realized he’d grossly underestimated her temerity.

  Sissy’s disingenuous smile changed to one of cunning and a measure of respect. “Fond, is he?” She leaned sideways and kissed Levi’s cheek. “I’m a mite fond of him, t
oo.”

  “Hey, there, Dan!” Levi grabbed for the sleeve of a man near him. “Would you show Sissy where the drinks are being served?”

  “Sure!” Dan angled out his arm to her. “Come along, Ms. Franklin. I have something to ask you anyway. It’s about a charity my wife is arranging . . .”

  Levi dropped a kiss on Trudy’s forehead. “Well done, baby.” He grinned at her feigned confusion. “Can’t kid a kidder,” he scolded, then waved over Angela and her new husband. “Cocky! Trudy, this is Angela Cochran and her husband of two months Jared Fletcher.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Trudy shook hands with them. “Newlyweds? Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Angela, a petite blond with nut-brown eyes, glanced at her husband, who was the exact same height as her, and beamed. “I finally let him catch me.”

  “Good thing, too,” Jared said. “I was exhausted! I chased her for three years.”

  “Wow! That’s a long courtship.”

  Angela gave Trudy a conspirator’s wink. “I enjoyed being a divorcée. I married when I was seventeen and divorced when I was twenty-three. I played the field with relish.” She sighed and leaned her cheek on Jared’s shoulder. “He was the best of the bunch by far.” Her eyes twinkled when she looked at Levi. “Sorry, Levi. No offense, but I never took you seriously.”

  Levi nodded. “No offense taken.” He could feel Trudy tense up beside him. It was going to be a long evening, he thought, feeling like he was tiptoeing through a minefield.

  Quintara’s laughter floated to him and he excused himself and Trudy, pulling her with him to the kitchen and Quintara, who was making goo-goo eyes at the bartender.

  “What do you want to drink? he asked Trudy.

  “If I’m supposed to have a cocktail, I guess I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri or something fruity like that.”

  He smiled at her. Did the woman have a pretentious bone in her, whole delectable body? She never gave a damn about being trendy or being cool or any other such nonsense. “Let’s have two champagne fizzes,” he told the bartender. He patted Trudy’s hand on the sleeve of his jacket. “You’ll like them. Champagne, gin, lemon juice, a little sugar. It goes down smooth.”

  “Just don’t get me drunk.” She batted her lashes at him. “With all these ladies who are ‘fond’ of you here and who have obviously sampled your wares, I must keep my wits about me.”

  Oh, yeah, he thought, running his fingertips around his shirt collar. It was going to be a long evening.

  ###

  Keeping Trudy in his peripheral vision, Levi observed her meeting and getting to know his friends. He could tell that she was nervous and feeling out of her element, but she became more at ease as the evening progressed.

  He delighted in watching her share a laugh or two with Cocky and Jared and then a giggle with Quintara. Warily, he watched as four men, one of them being Gonzo, surrounded her and played a game of one-up-manship in trying to impress her with their wit and banter. Brad Forsythe, a construction company owner in his fifties who thought he was a lady killer, even slipped an arm around Trudy’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug, laughing at something she’d said. If Levi hadn’t been speaking at that moment to Alliebeth duMond, one of the most influential board members, he would have stormed across the room and pulled Trudy away from the gel-haired dickwad. Fortunately, Trudy expertly extricated herself and edged closer to Gonzo. Levi released his pent-up breath, caught her eye across the room, and gave her a wink that she returned.

  God, what a beauty! His heart swelled with pride, puffing out his chest and making him feel like a strutting rooster crowing over his favorite hen. No, he thought. Better yet, a lone wolf with a new spring in his step because he’d found a magnificent mate.

  After a couple of hours of meeting, chatting, and being checked out by the guests, Trudy murmured something about a headache and needing aspirin. He wasn’t surprised. While he reveled in the spotlight, she retreated from it. He saw her make her way down the hall toward the master suite before he was pulled back into a lively debate with Gonzo and Cocky about who had the hardest struggle, inner city poor or Appalachian poor. To his mind, it was a draw. Poor was poor and it sucked no matter where you had to endure it.

  As the evening wound down, he was called on to give a short pep talk about the February fundraiser. He did his best to rally the troops. At the last event they’d raised two million and change. His goal was to double that amount this time around.

  After his little speech, the guests began making their way to the front door. Levi glanced toward the hall, hoping to catch sight of Trudy. He looked around for Quintara. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her. He found her in the kitchen with Wes and the young bartender. Natch. Sidling up to her, he leaned close to her ear. Her musky perfume filled his head. “Trudy has a headache and left to take some aspirin.” He saw several people closing in, hands outstretched. “Could you go check on her for me while I say goodbye to my guests?”

  “Of course, dear heart.” Quintara snagged a flute of pink champagne and sashayed toward the bedroom wing.

  He walked the last of the guests out to the penthouse foyer, making apologies once again for Trudy’s absence as they waited for the elevator. When they were whisked away, he shook his head and sent a tired smile to the two security guards.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  Mel, the one closest to him, clapped him on the shoulder. “No problem, Mr. Wolfe. Glad to do it.” His gaze moved to someone behind Levi.

  Turning, Levi confronted Sissy. Her grin was sly and suggestive.

  “Nice shindig, Levi.”

  “I didn’t know you were still here. Thanks for coming, Sissy. You could have brought a date, you know.”

  “I wanted to keep my options open.” She smiled at Melvin when he pressed the button to summon the elevator, then turned back to Levi. “She’s a little firebrand, isn’t she? Trudy, I mean.”

  He nodded, shifting his balance from one foot to the other as he tried to determine where this was headed. Firebrand? What the hell was that anyway?

  “I don’t exactly see what you find so irresistible about her, but . . .” The elevator doors opened and she walked into the compartment. Turning to face him again, she let go of a low laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day when a gal had you by the wangdang.” She laughed again. “I would have never believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Good night, sugar. You watch yourself now, ya hear?”

  Staring at the closed elevator doors, Levi wondered if he should feel insulted or just mark her comments up to jealousy. He realized that the security guys were staring at their shoes, obviously uncomfortable. He supposed he should clue them in that Sissy Franklin was full of sh—.

  “Levi!”

  The urgency in Quintara’s whisper made the hair on the back of his neck rise. He spun around to see her motioning for him to come back inside.

  “What is it?”

  “Trudy’s had some kind of episode and I can’t get her to snap out of it.”

  Sprinting down the hall before she even finished her sentence, Levi made a grab for the bathroom’s doorframe and swung into the tiled room. He skidded to a stop when he saw Trudy sitting on the vanity bench, rocking back and forth.

  “Did she channel someone?” he asked.

  Quintara shrugged. “I suppose so. She will usually come out of it. But she’s so deep into this altered state that I didn’t know exactly what to do for her.”

  He crouched in front of her and gripped her narrow shoulders. She felt so fragile. “Tru? Can you hear me? Where are you?”

  She shivered. Her eyes were unfocused and dilated. Levi ran his hands up and down her sheer sleeves. Her lips trembled. He felt for her pulse in her wrists and found it – light and stuttering. She was buried in someone else’s mind – so deep that she was having trouble fighting her way out of it.

  He placed his hands on either side of her head and focused his eyes on hers. She wasn’t flinching or mumbling, s
o he figured she had already witnessed something heinous and might be experiencing shock. “Shake loose of him. Whatever happened, it’s over. Ethel, if you’re there, help her! Come back, baby. I’m right here waiting for you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Trudy!”

  She blinked, stiffened, and then sobbed as her eyes swam with tears. Collapsing into his arms, she went limp. “Oh . . . oh! Oh, my God.” She clutched at him, gathering handfuls of his suit jacket, his hair, his shirt, his lapels. Drawing back from him, her green eyes glistened with tears and her lower lip quivered. “Levi. Levi. Levi.”

  “I’m here.” He sat on the floor and pulled her into his arms, cradling her and sweeping damp curls off her forehead. “You’re safe. Don’t cry. You’re safe.” He looked at Quintara. “Give me a wet washcloth and then fetch a shot of whiskey for her.”

  Quintara plucked a white washcloth from the stack near the sink, wet it thoroughly wrung it out, and handed it to him. She hurried out of the bathroom, her palazzo pants swishing with her movements. Levi ran the cloth across Trudy’s trembling lips and wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks, smearing her mascara.

  “What happened? Tell me what you saw.”

  She grasped his forearms and angled up, her grip suddenly strong. Her eyes rounded with horror. “We don’t have to worry about the stalker anymore, Levi.”

  He shook his head, not understanding her. “You saw Heather Asher? Where?”

  “She’s dead. He . . . he killed her. Cho-choked her with his bare hands.”

  “You saw someone murder Heather Asher?”

  She swiped at her eyes, removing the last drops clinging to her long lashes. “I saw him do it. I saw it all.”

  “Saw who?”

  “I don’t know . . . I don’t . . . an eye for eye is what he said.” Suddenly, she went stiff all over and her face became deathly white. She clutched at his forearms, her fingers digging into the layers of his clothing.