“Yeah. If he was really uptight about something at the office or if he was up all night with a delivery.” Lexie pulled the glass of juice toward her. Without picking it up, she slowly rotated it. He wondered how she managed to keep herself together, was beginning to wonder if she might not be quite as strong as she wanted everyone to believe.
“Any possibility he got his hands on some of your samples and decided to give it a try? Maybe the bottle of Valium was empty? We know he was upset about something that night.”
She didn’t look up. “Maybe. But he’d know to cut the dosage in half.”
“Did he ever have access to your samples?”
“No. I wasn’t repping Talzepam when we were married. Maybe the hospital.”
“Where the woman he’s been dating works?”
WITH A HARSH GASP, Lexie shot to consciousness like a scuba diver with a near-empty tank seeking the surface.
Even as she struggled into a sitting position, the sound of a crying baby lingered in her subconscious. Lexie pulled her legs up and rested her forehead on her knees. She didn’t even know which was worse anymore. The nightmares as she slept where Lindy was crying and Lexie couldn’t get to her, couldn’t save her daughter, or the nightmare she faced daily while awake.
Lexie climbed out of bed, taking the blanket with her. She needed fresh air. The room was dark and she wasn’t completely familiar with it yet, so she moved forward cautiously. Reaching the door, she opened it as silently as possible.
The hall was marginally cooler. She snugged the blanket around her shoulders. The living room wasn’t as dark, light from a streetlamp reaching inside the house, turning the chair near the front door into a black cube, the couch into a long, narrow silhouette. The back of the couch faced her, so she couldn’t see Jack, but she heard his soft, even breathing.
She glanced at the front door. No good. Too much ex posure. She’d have to walk past Jack. Risk waking him. No one could see her like this. Especially Jack.
She headed for the kitchen and the back door. There was a brick patio behind the house that would give her privacy. Her fingers became desperate as she worked the dead bolt. Releasing it, she jerked on the handle. The sound as the security chain caught and held was loud in the silence, but escape was all that mattered now. Banging the door shut, she released the chain, and in the next instant shot out into the cold air—she’d finally reached the surface. Now it was just a matter of breathing deeply, of mastering the panic.
The night was cold and carried the scent of fresh grass. She sank onto the steps, the bricks damp beneath the cotton boxers and her bare feet. She stared out into the small yard with the bed of overgrown roses and the untended birdbath. The moonlight leached the night sky of stars and created shade beneath the oaks. In the distance, a train let out a long, mournful wail.
What was she going to do? She’d failed Lindy.
She locked her eyes shut. And now she held another life in trust. A child’s life. What if she went to prison? What if she was sentenced to death? What if… It seemed as if her whole life was up for grabs. That there was nothing she could hold on to these days. Perhaps the only constant, the only thing she was certain about, was this baby. That she wanted it.
But what became of babies born to women behind bars? Born to a woman on death row? Would Jack take the baby? Or would he want her to put it up for adoption?
“Lexie?”
She stiffened at Jack’s voice, but didn’t turn around. “I’m okay.”
But as she said those words, the first harsh sob slammed against her chest wall. She swallowed it and, bending forward, tried to push it down inside her. The trembling in her shoulders became the hard racking of bone and flesh as a second sob struck higher this time, climbing to the back of her throat. It was the third one that made it past her lips.
Lexie wrapped the blanket tighter around her. To muffle the sounds that kept coming out of her, she forced the material against her mouth. It was as if now that even one of them had escaped, there was no stopping, no controlling the rest.
The ache behind her ribs expanded, the pain, the misery, the fear crowding her chest so completely that there was no room left for breathing.
And all the while, all she could think of was the man who’d followed her out here, who now stood watching as she splintered apart into a million fragments that she could never hope to reassemble. She thought of the nursery tale of Humpty Dumpty, and cried harder still. For herself, for the damn egg or whatever it was that Humpty was made of, and for the baby growing inside her.
It wasn’t until Jack’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against his chest that she realized he’d gotten on the ground behind her, that his legs were stretched on either side of her.
“I’ve got you.” He rocked her slowly, his arms tight around her, the firm wall of his chest at her back, radiating the warmth and strength that she so desperately needed.
“Shush,” he said, his voice pitched low and roughened. “I’m not going to let anything happen to either one of you.” His arms tightened around her.
They stayed like that until her sobs faded. Until her muscles loosened. Until she became aware that Jack’s hands ran slowly up and down her arms beneath the blanket, their warmth gliding over her cool flesh, warming her. Though it was just over two months, it felt as if an eternity had passed since she’d been held.
She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
His hands stilled. “There’s no reason to be.”
“I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”
“I know.” His hands began to move again. She found herself relaxing into him. She should get up, go back inside, but somehow she didn’t want to. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe Jack’s words. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because he was only a man, and no matter how much he wanted to help her, he could do only so much.
She didn’t know how long they sat there, long enough that everything went silent inside her. The nightmare faded. It never really went away, just became a pale shadow sifting somewhere between conscious and unconscious thought, almost like a ghost that was trapped between earth and heaven.
Jack began to move even before he spoke. “Come on.”
He pulled her to her feet and led her back inside. He didn’t reach for any light switches, and she suspected it was because he understood that in the dark she felt less exposed. Which was really crazy, since she couldn’t be any more exposed than she had been out there on the patio. No one had ever seen her like that before. Not because she hadn’t fallen apart, but since childhood, she’d been careful not to let anyone see it. Weakness equaled vulnerability, and vulnerability led to emotional pain.
But somehow, it hadn’t seemed so bad this time. Not to be alone. As she followed behind, her fingers linked with his, Jack moved through the house without hesitation, as someone sure of his surroundings, of his direction. But it wasn’t just his home that he seemed to move through with certainty. It was his life. She still found it difficult to understand him. His sense of justice. What he was willing to risk personally just helping her. How many men were there like Jack Blade? The answer was simple. Not enough.
He nudged the bedroom door wider. “I’ll get you another blanket.”
As soon as he left her there, she felt everything begin to close in on her again.
Jack returned. “Lie down. I’ll cover you up.”
Instead of following his orders, she looked up at him. “Stay with me tonight. I don’t think I can handle being alone.”
She sensed hesitation in his sudden stillness.
He passed her the cover. “Okay. Go ahead and get in, and I’ll be back in a moment.”
When he returned, he was carrying his Glock, and slid it into the drawer of the bedside table. He briefly sat on the edge of the bed, his knees splayed wide, his elbows resting on his thighs.
When she shifted, he looked over his shoulder at her but didn’t say anything, just slid beneath the sheet and blanket
.
Even as he settled on his back, she could feel the tension in him.
“Thanks, Jack.” Because she thought it was what he wanted, she turned on her side away from him and managed to fall asleep.
When she woke, it was still dark, dawn hours away. And Jack held her, spoon-fashion, his hard body following the contours of hers. Or perhaps it was her body that unconsciously and willingly adapted, seeking the warmth and firmness of his.
It didn’t take her long to realize what had awakened her. Jack’s right arm was wrapped across her shoulder, his hand resting over her left breast. Every time she inhaled or exhaled, the tips of his fingers dragged across her nipple. With each brush, the unrelenting tension coiled a little tighter in her.
Her breathing came a little faster, a little more irregular. Almost as if she’d lost control over her own body, her backside settled against Jack’s groin. He was already hard.
When Lexie tried to create more distance between their bodies, though, the required motion only forced her buttocks even more intimately against his erection.
She couldn’t stop herself from imagining what it would feel like if there was no clothing between them. If she arched only slightly and he thrust, he could be inside her, taking her as he had that night. Driving her to the edge of reason and beyond.
As the images played in her mind, her hips unconsciously shifted, seeking the right position. She could feel her own wetness. Felt that slightly swollen sensation that only penetration could relieve. She was imagining the sweet glide of Jack’s erection when his hand closed over her breast. Her breath caught, then escaped with a harsh sound as, gathering up her fullness, he kneaded her breasts through the T-shirt. Her abdominal muscles quivered and flexed as his hand moved downward across her rib cage.
She could think of a million reasons why what they were doing wasn’t wise, but she wasn’t willing to listen to any of them.
Reaching the hem of her T-shirt, his fingers stilled, and this time when they shifted upward there was only skin.
There was no more pretending either one of them was asleep, but Lexie chose to remain silent.
Jack’s fingers caressed and teased as they went. She felt him shifting, so that his mouth could reach the side of her neck. His breath was warm, as ragged as hers now, but his lips as they found skin were firm and practiced. They gently assaulted her senses as his fingers continued to stroke. She breathed shallowly.
When she started to roll to face him, Jack’s hand slipped lower, held her hip so that she couldn’t. His breath fanned her ear, his voice as rough and ragged as his breathing. “Just relax.”
Relax? She felt herself smile, but the chuckle that climbed her throat died as he pushed her boxers down.
His open palm skimmed upward. As his lips continued to work their magic, he slowly dragged the back of his fingers across her belly in slow circles that crept lower and lower. As his fingers reached pubic hair, her legs began to shake and ease apart, giving him what they both wanted. She moaned softly as he lightly rubbed the heel of his hand against her, but Jack caught the sound in his mouth.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips at the same moment that his fingers slid into her wet heat. She opened her legs and her mouth fully, welcoming both assaults.
She immediately came hard and fast, her hips lifting and grinding against his hand. And as his teeth closed tenderly where her neck met her shoulder, the orgasm she thought nearly finished found new life. She panted in sharp bursts. Felt her heart hammering in her chest as it seemed to go on and on.
She barely caught her breath, was barely aware of Jack removing his shorts. His erection brushed her buttocks. He pulled her back against him, eased into her by slow degrees until he filled her completely. Rising on one elbow, he turned her face so that he could see her. He smoothed the sweat dampened hair off her cheek, lowered his lips to hers and for the first time kissed her with a restraint that she hadn’t expected, and was so different from previous kisses.
She came apart inside at the unexpected tenderness.
He raised his head, seemed to study her face in the soft light filtering in between the blinds. It wasn’t enough illumination to read his expression, but it revealed his masculine features. The well-defined lips. The small cleft in his chin. The blond hair that was lighter on top and darker around the edges. Like the man himself. On the surface, he looked more like a beach boy than anything else. But when you reached the edges, to what was barely exposed, it became apparent he wasn’t quite so uncomplicated. That there was a darker, not-so-sunny edge, just out of sight.
Still watching her, he started moving inside her, not driving, demanding thrusts, but slow and easy. Inviting.
She could feel her body climbing toward release. Her hips began to move, greedy now, focused on only one thing. Jack let her take control, let her set the pace.
She closed her eyes.
He immediately reached out and smoothed the hair away from her temple. “No, Lexie. I want to watch you come.”
He followed the line of her jaw with his lips, ending at her mouth. His breath was unsteady, and she could feel the restrained tension in his body.
“I want to see you and feel you.”
He pushed the T-shirt up and out of his way, the cool air as her breasts were exposed oddly erotic. As he had earlier, he cradled a breast in his palm. She watched his features sharpen, the sheen of moisture that collected across his brow as he tugged on her nipple. Sensation shot through her, carrying her closer to what her body craved.
“Come for me, Lexie. Come now.”
With a small cry she did, her muscles closing around him. She was still coming when Jack drove into her hard, his hand dropping to her hip, holding her in place as he filled her, as he followed her.
Both of them rested back on the mattress, hearts hammering, skin slick with moisture, but neither one of them made a move to extricate themselves from the intimate connection.
And neither of them spoke of what had just happened.
Chapter Twelve
When she woke again, she was alone in the bed.
Pushing the covers off, she realized that while she wore a T-shirt, the lower half of her was naked.
She glanced toward the door. Where was Jack? He wouldn’t have left her alone in the house.
Because she was listening for him, he startled her when he came walking in dressed in jeans and a sweater. Lexie tugged the sheet across her lap and waited for some clue on how she should act.
When he looked at her without hesitation, without any hint of embarrassment, she decided that he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d manage.
“Morning.” She scanned the floor for her shorts, found them draped over the footboard, but chose to leave them where they were for the moment.
“Why don’t you catch a shower? We’ll get some lunch. Garland Ramsey called and wants to see you at three.”
“Did he say why?”
“The State Attorney is seeking to have your bail revoked.” He stopped in the doorway on his way out. “Tell Garland you’re pregnant. The prosecution won’t want to believe it, but when the test comes back positive, they’ll have to.”
“What will that accomplish?”
“The judge will most likely allow the bail to stand. The state is required to pay for the medical expenses of inmates, and they’ll do just about anything they can to avoid that expense.”
Lexie lifted her chin. “And if they ask who the father is?”
“You tell them the truth.”
She sat there on the edge of the bed for several minutes after he’d left the room. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get a read on Jack. He still hadn’t mentioned what his intentions were where the baby was concerned. And yet, there had been that moment last night, as he’d wrapped his arms around her….
AFTER GRABBING A DELI sandwich, they headed out to her place for additional clothes.
As she ope
ned the front door, she realized it felt as if she’d been gone for weeks instead of only two nights. The heat had been left off, so the house was cold and damp.
Without waiting to see if Jack followed, she headed for the kitchen. On her way by, she hit the play button on the phone recorder, but kept moving until she reached the wall of windows. Unlike the past few days, it was sunny, but it was also chilly again. The sky was that sharp blue that seemed to accompany cold fronts, or perhaps it only seemed bluer because of the gray days that had preceded it.
Jack had followed her into the kitchen. She could feel him at her back. The news of the pregnancy had been the big white elephant sitting between them all day yesterday, but after what had happened last night, there were two elephants in the way. She snugged his arms around her. The coming meeting with Garland Ramsey also made her nervous. She wasn’t really ready to announce the pregnancy. But if it would keep her out of jail, she really didn’t have a choice—as much for the baby’s health as her sanity. It felt as if she was being slowly and thoroughly backed into a corner.
“I’ll be right back,” Jack said. “I just want to take a quick look around outside.” She glanced over her shoulder and watched him walk away. She wondered if sometime in the not too distant future she’d watch him do the same, only for good this time.
As the front door closed behind him, she turned her attention to the window again. Even though it was sunny, you could still tell the time of year by the color of the grass beneath the pines. Everywhere she looked these days, she saw things that she hadn’t really seen in years. She recalled her grandfather telling her how, shortly after he’d learned that he had cancer, life had taken on a new glow. That some of the simplest things became the most meaningful when you faced death.
At the time, she’d thought that she’d understood what he was saying, but she realized that she hadn’t. Not until now.
She barely paid attention to the first ten or so phone messages, which were mostly from the media. The next few were from friends. It was comforting to know that she still had some. That some people knew her well enough to know she hadn’t killed Dan.
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