In the Flesh

by Rita Herron

  Guilt and anxiety knotted his insides. She had almost died tonight while he’d been protecting himself. A ploy that hadn’t worked because when he’d thought that she might be dead, he’d wanted to join her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jenny helped others deal with grief, loss, shock, trauma and depression yet she felt herself slipping into the desolate grays, wondering what her purpose was in life. If she’d ever actually helped anyone. If she’d been so blinded to her own family’s needs, how could she possibly understand a stranger’s?

  When Raul parked, she sat, shivering as if in a shell of a body, and listened to the drizzle of rain pelting the roof, to the wind howling from the heavens as if the innocent souls of the dead girls were screaming in pain at the injustice. Numb, she allowed him to assist her from the car.

  And when he guided her to his bedroom, placed her bag on his bed and coaxed her to the bathroom, she did so on autopilot, oblivious to the world around her. She just needed to get warm. To forget.

  He turned on the hot water and left her alone, and she undressed and stepped beneath the spray and closed her eyes. If only she could block out the truth about her mother, the horror of the man’s hands around her throat, invading her bedroom, her space, his weight upon her as he squeezed the air from her lungs.

  She soaped and scrubbed her body, wishing she could wash away the stench of violence that had invaded her life, but nothing she could do could erase reality.

  Girls were being murdered in Savannah. One of her patients might be the killer, yet she was protecting him in the name of her job. Her mother might be in danger from a man Jenny had trusted with her life. And her baby brother was suffering, thinking he was the son of a rapist, his life spiraling out of control.

  She had no idea which one of them had attacked her, but it was possible that any one of them was dangerous.

  Finally the water grew cold, and she dried herself off. Shivering, she tugged on the cotton boxer shorts and camisole she’d brought to sleep in, then opened the bathroom door. Raul stood in the shadows, looking sexy and angry, the silhouette of a man in turmoil, and the most solid creature she’d ever known.

  He led her to the bed, then thrust a glass into her hand. “I know you like wine, but I didn’t have any. It’s gin and tonic.”

  She drank it greedily, starving for anything to deaden the pain.

  “Whoa, slow down.” He cradled her hand and forced her to sip, not guzzle the drink. “I want to calm you, not make you sick.”

  “I can handle it,” she whispered, her throat raw.

  He rubbed a hand along the back of her neck, massaging the tension from her shoulders. “Oh, Jenny, you’re always so strong. But it’s okay to lean on me tonight.”

  Lean on him, when he hated what she did. When he was right all along. “No, you were right. I don’t heal anyone, Raul. Just look at my family, they’re falling apart.”

  Furious with herself for not seeing what was going on all these years, she went to the den and stared out through the screened sliding glass doors. Outside, the rain had slackened to a steady drizzle, and she heard the roaring of the waves crashing against the rocks, rolling in and out, never really going anywhere, just as she was.

  He moved up behind her, and she felt his breath bathe her neck, felt his big masculine presence encompass her, his strength as he stroked her arms. “No, Jenny, I was wrong. You do help people, just by caring.”

  She spun around, ready to argue, hating herself and the fact that she’d failed the people she loved most. “My mother has been trapped in a prison made by her abuser all these years, crying out for me. My brother saw her raped, and now I realize his problems stem from that trauma. And what did I do? I read books, took classes, thought I knew it all, when I knew nothing about the people I loved the most.”

  “You were only a child when it happened, Jenny. You must have been hurting yourself, yet you grew up too quickly because you had to take care of everyone else.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then caressed her face with her palm, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Who took care of you, though? No one.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to,” he said gruffly. “And you do help people, Jenny. You brought me back to life again.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest.

  “You brought me back when I was dead inside because you cared.” He traced a finger along her jaw. “Sometimes when we’re that lost we don’t even know we need a friend, yet you still tried to reach me. And you did.”

  She wanted to believe him, wanted him to hold her and obliterate the pain, to make her forget that a killer was out there and wanted her dead.

  “Raul, I don’t know who I am anymore. If I can go on.”

  He threaded his hand through her hair, his look so sexy that her legs nearly buckled. “You are the most beautiful woman I know.”

  Still, he’d pushed her away because of his dead wife. “You’re still in love with Anita,” she whispered.

  Pain flashed in his eyes for a moment, and she regretted her words, but she didn’t want him because he felt sorry for her.

  His gaze met hers, intense, flickering with turmoil and other emotions. Hunger. Desire. Raw primal lust.

  “The only woman in my head right now is you, Jenny.” He dropped his forehead against hers, released a ragged breath that reeked of turmoil and a need so strong that it touched her deep inside.

  “God forgive me, but you’re the only woman I can think of right now. The one I want in my arms, in my bed, in my life.”

  She lifted a hand, caressed his strong jaw, felt the tension and unleashed passion building between them with each labored breath.

  “It’s okay to go on, Raul. To care about someone else.”

  “But I lost so much. I…don’t think I could survive that kind of loss again.” He brushed his lips against her cheek, teasing the corners of her mouth. “When I heard that 911 call and reached your place, when I couldn’t find you, I—” his voice broke “—I thought I might find you dead…I wanted to die, too.”

  Tears filled her eyes, for him and his suffering. For the need between them that was so overpowering she didn’t care about anything else tonight but them.

  RAUL HAD NEVER felt so raw and exposed, but he also couldn’t hold back the truth. Jenny had a right to know that someone cared about her, that she wasn’t alone.

  She was the most unselfish person he’d ever met. Yes, he’d loved Anita, but he knew he’d put her on a pedestal, and that she had flaws. And caring for Jenny didn’t diminish those feelings, because she understood that his heart had enough room for both of them.

  The fact that they were so different, yet each woman touched some part of him meant he was one lucky son of a bitch. And he had been ready to throw that away.

  He wanted Jenny, but whether they had a future was not the point. They needed to love each other tonight.

  And he wanted to assuage her pain. He might not agree with all aspects of her job, but who was he to say it wasn’t valuable when all he did was clean up the mess?

  “Raul…”

  His chest expanded with warmth when she said his name. Her tender touch on his face flamed his desires, heated his flesh with a yearning so strong that his blood sizzled in his veins.

  He hadn’t had a woman since his wife’s death. Hadn’t wanted one, but he wanted Jenny now. Not because she was a warm body and he was horny as hell, but because she was the sweetest, most loving person on earth.

  “I want you, Jenny, but if you need to go to bed alone, I understand.”

  A small smile flickered in her eyes. “I do want to go to bed, Raul. But not alone.”

  His pulse kicked into double time as she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Her heart pounded beneath his palm, her breathing erratic as her chest rose and fell. Her nipples hardened, begging for his touch.

  He lowered his head, flicked his tongue along the outer recesses of her mouth. She moaned
and threaded her fingers into his hair, and he fused his mouth with hers, claiming her as he’d wanted to do from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, when he knew it was wrong.

  But nothing had ever felt so right.

  She parted her lips, offering him entry, and he thrust his tongue inside, mimicking the way he wanted to join with her, the power of his thrusts growing faster and bolder as she ran her hands over his shoulders, clutching and clawing at his shirt.

  She tore it off, and he flung it to the floor, frantic for more, to feel her bare breasts against his chest. A whisper of need fell from her lips as she ran her hands over his torso, and he trailed kisses along her neck and to her breasts. His hands held her weight in his palms, and her nipples stiffened, turgid and ready for his mouth. His sex hardened, swelling inside his pants to a painful throb, and he kneaded her, gently lowered the straps of her camisole, sucking her nipples through the thin cloth, wetting it with his greedy mouth.

  She groaned his name and threw her head back, and he slid the camisole down, exposing her to his touch. But first he paused to appreciate her globes, flicking kisses along the mounds as she rocked her hips against his.

  He trapped her nipple between his lips, tonguing it as he slid his hand between her thighs. She was damp, the cotton boxers sliding down easily to reveal her wet heat, the scent of her desire spurring his own. She kicked them off, and he pulled her closer, sliding two fingers between her legs and stroking her center.

  He moved to her other breast, loving it the same way, thrusting his fingers inside her until she cried out for more. His body throbbing with hunger, he tore his mouth away. “To the bedroom,” he mouthed against her neck.

  She nodded, and rational sense interceded long enough for him to close and lock the sliding glass doors, then he picked her up and carried her to his bed. She tossed off the camisole, boldly offering him a view of her naked body in the faint light spilling in from the lamp in the den.

  Already devoid of his shirt, he shoved his jeans down his thighs and quickly shed his clothing.

  “Raul, you are the most powerful man I’ve ever known,” she whispered as he knelt on the bed and pushed her legs apart.

  She reached for him, but he wanted to give her this gift. So he closed his mouth over her heat, flicking his tongue along her damp thighs and into her center, using his tongue to love her the way he wanted to use his hard length. She moaned again, quivering as he licked and suckled her, then suddenly the tremors that had been building in her broke, and she shook with her release.

  He rose above her, straddling her as he bent to nibble at her breasts again, then she reached for his sex. He stalled her hands, reached for a condom and rolled it on. Then he let her guide his aching length to her parted legs, then inside her, bracing himself to go slow. But she didn’t seem to want slow. She arched her back, shoving her hips upward until he filled her completely, and he nearly lost control.

  He wanted it to last, to be good for her, to make her forget that men had brought her pain, that he wasn’t like the ones who’d let her down. That he would never hurt her, that he’d protect her and give her pleasure instead.

  She clutched his arms and he kissed her again, deeply, his passion rising as her muscles squeezed around him, and she twined her legs around his waist. He slid his hands under her hips, angled her so he could drive himself deeper, and she begged for him to move faster, not to stop. His hunger spiraled out of control, the animal inside him surfacing until he forgot where they were, only that he’d waited for this moment, needed to grind faster and deeper.

  She gripped his hips, holding him firmly between her thighs, urging him on with whispered sighs until he felt as if he was coming apart. Just as the strains of his resistance faltered and he teetered on the brink of orgasm, she cried his name and began to quiver again. Sensations so powerful he couldn’t speak shot through him as his own release came.

  Her name escaped his lips on a tormented passion-glazed shout, and he clutched her close to him, moved by the intense pleasure of joining his body with hers, of feeling her alive in his arms, and knowing that he had eased her pain and brought her pleasure.

  JENNY CURLED into Raul’s arms, for the first time in her life feeling safe and cared for. Somewhere in the back of her brain, a warning bell clamored, reminding her not to make too much of their lovemaking, that Raul still carried baggage and that one night didn’t mean they had a future together. But she shushed the voice, unable to bear the thought of him leaving her yet. She needed his arms tonight, his lips, his body. But more than that, she needed to believe that her life held the promise of happiness, not just the endless parade of dysfunction and sadness. That she might have a chance at a family who trusted and loved and nurtured each other.

  And a man who would never desert her.

  BAILEY WALKED and walked in circles around Savannah, dipping into one bar after the other, trying desperately to drown the voice hammering inside his head.

  It’s your fault Dad left. You told him that Mommy was in bed with another man.

  It’s your fault your mother has been ill all these years. You were too scared to see what was really happening.

  It’s your fault she’s lived in that bed of horror like a damned vegetable.

  Yet he still hated her. Hated her for leaving him, for not being strong enough to fight the doctor, for not telling somebody what was going on.

  Hated her for sinking into that empty shell and not loving him.

  He’d needed her just like he’d needed his daddy.

  But both of them had left him.

  And now he’d lost Jenny, too. He’d seen the look in her eyes when she’d told him the truth about their mother. She’d thought he was worthless for a long time, but she still hadn’t totally abandoned him.

  But he’d gone too far tonight. Because she blamed him for breaking up the family. For not saving their mother.

  Gulping back another scotch, he savored the hot burn of the booze sliding down his throat. He gripped the bar’s edge, waving to the bartender for another. He needed something to soothe the blinding rage chewing his insides. That and the damn guilt that was more painful than any of the beatings he’d taken at the hands of loan sharks when he hadn’t paid them.

  Yet relief refused to come.

  He had to do something. His heart pumping, he tossed down the drink, threw some cash on the counter, then stalked outside. He had to see his mother. Find out if Jenny had been lying.

  Find that doctor.

  And if he had abused his mother, had forced himself on her, Bailey would kill him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The ringing of his cell phone dragged Raul back to reality at 5:00 a.m. Girls were dead and another might be dying. He had to go back to work.

  He dropped a kiss on Jenny’s forehead, then left her sleeping peacefully, his jaw tightening all over again at the sight of the bruise on her forehead and neck.

  He couldn’t let this bastard get away with what he’d done or hurt Jenny again.

  The phone jangled again, and he grabbed it and walked into the kitchen to make coffee.

  “Cortez.”

  “It’s Black. The IT guys found something on the computers. It might be a lead, Raul, so I want you here to discuss it with them.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin.

  “Do you have that warrant for Dr. Madden’s files?”

  “Yes, you can pick it up when you come in.”

  Jenny wouldn’t like it, but she was right. He had to do what he had to do. Just as he had to locate that brother of hers and put him under the microscope.

  By the time he dressed, Jenny was rolling over, her sleepy gaze meeting his. “Where are you going?”

  He walked over, traced a finger along her jaw. He wanted to crawl back in bed and make love to her again. “To meet the captain. The tech team may have a lead from the victims’ computers.”

  “Let me dress and I’ll go with you.”

&
nbsp; He shook his head. “No one knows you’re here. Stay in bed and rest, Jenny. You need it.” He touched the bruise on her forehead. “And you deserve it.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  He nodded gravely as the pain returned to her eyes. He wanted to erase it. Wanted her again, bad. “As soon as I can.”

  Tearing his gaze away from her bare breasts peeking from beneath the covers, he stepped back. He had to go now. He had a case to solve, and if her brother was involved, he’d have to arrest him.

  Then he’d lose her because she’d hate him for it.

  JENNY FELT BEREFT and lonely as Raul walked out the door. She told herself that he’d return. That he hadn’t left forever.

  But the emptiness throbbed inside her, along with reality. Somebody wanted her dead.

  She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but images of the man attacking her the night before drove her from bed. Memories of her confrontation with Bailey followed, along with the truth about Dr. Zovall. She wanted to confront him in person, ask him how he could have abused his patients in such a way.

  And she needed to figure out why she had trusted him so blindly, even allowed him to mentor her into studying psychiatry, when he’d been a fraud.

  When he had destroyed her family.

  The anger she’d fought last night surfaced with a vengeance. She had to visit her mother. Assure her that she was finally aware now of what this horrible man had done to her. That she would stick by her and do everything in her power to support her during recovery.

  Adrenaline pumping, she dressed quickly, then phoned for a taxi. While she waited, she scribbled Raul a note saying she’d be at the hospital. First she had to shower and clean up, though. After visiting with her mother, she had an appointment with her support group for sexual deviants. Not smart to do that with the scent of Raul’s lovemaking on her skin.