“I understand. It explains an odd remark you made, though, when I came to question you about Cathleen’s murder. You asked if the gunshot wound was self-inflicted. Were you thinking about a staged suicide?”
He certainly had the memory for police work. “It crossed my mind. The police were too quick in ruling Dad’s death a suicide. My mother protested, and my brother investigated on his own—well, with Sally’s help. Finally, the police reopened the case and ruled it a homicide. I didn’t mean that as a slur against your department.”
“I know, honey, and I’m sorry about your dad.” He touched foreheads with her. “So tell me how your sister is getting along after her riding accident.”
“Nina’s an award-winning wheelchair athlete. She always could take lemons and make lemonade. She’s happily married and has a little girl, Samantha, Mom’s only grandchild—unless Joe and Sally have started a family since I left.”
“Joe, your brother, and Sally of Mustang Sally’s Garage?”
“Right. I’ll bet you were a good detective. You listen and remember.”
“I am a good detective.”
She chuckled. “And modest, too.”
He touched her chin with his finger and thumb, holding her mouth inches from his. “I want to know everything about you.”
She swallowed. Heat flooded her face. “You, um, already know pretty much everything.”
“Not nearly enough, sweetheart.” His lips hovered over her mouth. She waited, poised for their touch, but only his warm breath kissed her.
Her mouth suddenly dry, she tried to swallow again and couldn’t. “What else do you want to know?”
“For starters, I want to know what your naked body feels like next to mine. I want to know if you lose yourself and make noises when you—”
“I do not make noises!” She closed her eyes to avoid his heated gaze. It had been so long since she’d made love with her fiancé, and he’d been too intense to relax and savor sex. After Brendan, she’d sworn off men … until Wilson. Now he’d succeeded in breaking through her protective barriers.
“If you don’t make some noise, darlin’, you’ve been in bed with the wrong guys.”
“Guy.” The admission slipped out without forethought. She opened her eyes and met his quizzical gaze. “That’s right. Just my fiancé. I’m not much for browsing.”
He chuckled, fanning her face with his breath. “Definitely an inadequate sample for study.”
“You’re suggesting I test a number of guys until I find one who—”
“I’m just arrogant enough to think I’m up for the job.” He took one of her hands and placed it at his crotch.
She stroked his hardness through the khaki fabric, and he groaned. “Yes, definitely up for the job.”
He lowered his head until their lips touched. She closed her eyes and sank into his embrace. His soft, leisurely kiss heated her blood until she simmered with need. How had she resisted his touch for so long? She moaned when his tongue teased the seam of her lips and slipped inside to tantalize her mouth.
What had sizzled beneath the surface between them exploded. Suddenly she couldn’t get enough of the feel of him. Unbuckling his belt, she eased her hand inside his trousers until she zeroed in on his flesh. He seemed just as eager to touch her bare skin. Breaking their kiss, he yanked at the hem of her nightshirt and drew it over her head, tossing it somewhere on the living room floor.
They never made it to the bedroom. Tension building for months proved too much for her patience. She helped him shed his clothes and pulled him to her before he had a chance to remove his socks. His body covered hers, naked flesh searing naked flesh. Their hands raced over each other’s skin, touching and fondling until she couldn’t separate her appreciative moans from his.
When she opened for him, he froze, suspended over her. Her body tingled and throbbed, needing him to bring her to completion. She nearly screamed in frustration. “What?”
“Honey, we need protection—”
Thank God one of them had the sense to think of a condom. “Where?”
He winced. “I think the glove compartment.”
When he started to get up, she wiggled from beneath him. “Don’t you dare move. I’ll be right back.”
No way she’d let him dress and go out to his Jeep. Through her fog of arousal she made it to the bedroom, where she’d stashed the condoms she’d bought at Fox’s Apothecary. She tore open the box and grabbed two foil packets. One wouldn’t be enough for the night she had in mind. Maybe they’d make it to bed for round two, maybe not. She wasn’t taking chances.
Wil sat up on the sofa and waited, calling himself seven kinds of fool. Had he been celibate so long he’d forgotten how to make love to a woman? He’d hurried like a rutting animal instead of creating special memories for Elizabeth. Inhaling a deep, calming breath, he reined in his lust. For all of twenty seconds.
She returned to the sofa, all creamy skin and curves, waving a couple of foil packets in her hand. She climbed on top of him, pushing him down. She reached beyond him to lay one of the condoms on the end table, and her breasts brushed his face. He couldn’t resist a taste. His tongue grazed one of her nipples on the return trip, earning him one of her breathy moans.
“I’m not going to last long at this rate, darlin’.” And he wanted to last. How could he face her in the morning if he took her like an inexperienced teenager would?
Straddling him, she tore open a foil packet. “That’s fine. We’ll do slow next time.”
“Talk about pressure. Two condoms and talk of an encore.”
“Well… only if you’re up for it.”
Excitement jolted him at her assertiveness. How could he not want this sexy woman again and again? Taking the condom from her fingers, he rolled it on. If he let her sheathe him, it’d all be over but the shouting.
She smiled. “Impressive weapon you got there, Sheriff.”
Before he could respond, she lowered herself onto him in one swift move, plunging him into her sweet heat. She stilled, allowing him to savor the feel of her. Ah, such pleasure. He’d fantasized sex with her many times, but nothing compared to the real deal. He caressed her hips and moved with her into a slow rhythm that quickly accelerated.
She matched him stroke for stroke, building a frenzy of sensation that carried him closer and closer to the edge. He moved his hands to fondle her breasts, his thumb abrading both tender tips, and mewling sounds erupted from her throat. Then she stiffened and cried out, her body shuddering and convulsing around him. The last shred of control gone, he followed her in climax.
After her breathing slowed to a more normal rate, she raised up and peered at him. “You were right. I do make a lot of noise.”
He chuckled. “I think we both did, darlin’.”
She moved to get up, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her in place. “Wilson, I’m too heavy—”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He nudged her head against his chest. The fragrance of baby powder mixed with her musky feminine scent intoxicated him. He may have lain with her like that till morning, but the air conditioning blew icy air from an overhead vent. “We need a blanket.”
She kissed his throat, then raised up with a grin. “There’s one on the bed.”
Ignoring his body’s protests, he got up and followed her toward her bedroom. With a detour by the bathroom to dispose of the condom, he searched the darkness for her. The light from the nightlight in the dining room didn’t reach to the back of her house. She held out her hand for his and then led him to the bed, where they both climbed in beneath the sheet and cottony blanket. Content to snuggle against her, he thought they’d fall asleep.
“I forgot to put your uniform in the wash.” She scooted from the bed, leaving him chilled again, this time from her absence. “I’ll be right back.”
Then another chill possessed him, a nagging thought from the recesses of his mind. One of Zelda’s phone messages. A guy calling himself Special Agent Cory
. He wouldn’t leave a number or a message, and he refused to talk to Fred, even though I explained he was the chief deputy. Seemed anxious to speak to you but said he’d call back.
The name had meant nothing to him at the time. When Elizabeth mentioned her handler in the Witness Security Program, Special Agent Cory, a vague sense of dread filled him. Now the foreboding engulfed him. If Special Agent Cory wanted to speak with Wil—and only Wil—it couldn’t mean anything good.
Elizabeth had been compromised. He’d bet his modest-but-growing 401(k). Cory planned to pull her from Drake Springs and relocate her with a new identity. Then Wil may never see her again. Even if Dr. Sullivan no longer posed a threat to her, wouldn’t she return to Kentucky to reclaim her life with family and friends?
Jumping to conclusions led nowhere. If tonight was his only night to spend with the woman he loved—yes, loved—he’d make the best of it. Then when she left, he’d have a lasting memory to comfort him in the dark days to follow. He had no choice but to let her go. Her life depended on it. Even if it killed him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the time Elizabeth returned to bed, Wil had calmed himself. Or so he thought. He gathered her chilled body against his to warm her, but the heat quickly spread through his own body. Heat of a different kind. In an instant he hardened again, astounded by the depth of his hunger for her.
She responded with an eagerness that both pleased and electrified him. This time he concentrated on taking a slow, leisurely path to ecstasy. He caressed every inch of her flesh until she begged him to take her, then retraced his path with his mouth. He tasted and licked, and she writhed beneath him, arching toward his fingers and lips. Taking his time, he pleasured her again and again until she pushed him to his back and demanded equal opportunity.
Her mouth and hands stroked him as no others ever had, driving him insane with wanting. He begged to be inside her. Only she could end his aching need. Their lengthy foreplay, so at odds with their earlier frenzied coupling, finally culminated in their bodies’ joining and rocking together to an explosive finale.
The best sex of his life claimed him like a sedative. He wanted to tease her for the noises she made in the heat of passion. He yearned to tell her about the strength of his love for her. But exhaustion claimed him. He had no energy left to speak.
Thursday morning, Elizabeth awoke with a start. Someone was in her house! Then the musky odor of sex wafted from the twisted sheets, and she remembered. Wilson. He must be in the laundry room trying to iron his uniform. She’d intended to take his clothes from the dryer before wrinkling set in. After putting the wet clothes in the dryer, she’d returned to bed only to find Wilson awake and ready for round three.
Now stretching her deliciously sore muscles, she allowed a smile of satisfaction at the memory. It was as if they both knew they’d have only a short time together and needed to cram in as much sex as possible. She’d expected him to wake her this morning for round four, although her body needed the rest. Her smile widened. She could rest later.
He slipped inside the bedroom carrying two mugs of coffee, and wearing only his briefs and a smile of his own. “Is that smile for me, darlin’?”
She stretched her arms over her head, the sheet dropping to expose her breasts. Not that it mattered. He’d seen all of her, up close and most personal. “It’s a smile of contentment. I had to dig through a lot of stuff to find where I’d packed it away.”
He grinned, handing her one of the mugs. “Glad you did. It becomes you.”
“Thank you for helping me find it.” She sipped her coffee, suddenly shy. Grabbing for the sheet with her free hand, she tucked it under her arms.
“Don’t hide your beautiful body.”
“You really think it’s beautiful?” How could he? She was so out of shape and overweight. “I’ve really let myself go.”
“I think everything about you is beautiful. And I’m talking more than looks.”
She hid behind the coffee mug. “Thanks.”
“Aw, hell, I’ve embarrassed you.” He sat on the edge of the mattress. “I don’t want any of that morning-after awkwardness, you hear me? What we had last night was nothing short of amazing. I have no regrets. Do you?”
“None.” She meant it, too. Wilson had given her back her feminine power, her confidence. And he’d given her intimacy. “I’d do it all again.”
“Me, too, if we had time.” He winked. “But I need to get to the station, and you have classes.”
“What about breakfast at the diner?” She took another drink of coffee and then set the mug on her nightstand.
He nodded toward her clock radio beside her coffee. “We overslept. I turned off the alarm when I got up. You were sleeping so soundly I hated to disturb you.”
“Gosh, that isn’t like me. Thank you.”
“For letting you oversleep?”
“For making me feel safe and cherished. It’s been too long since I’ve felt either.” Her voice caught. Traitorous tears filled her eyes. What was wrong with her? She’d gone from a wide grin of satisfaction to tears in seconds.
He set his mug on the nightstand beside hers and reached for her, gathering her in his arms. “Ah, darlin’.”
“Pathetic, aren’t I?” She let him hold her, nonetheless. “It also sounds as if I used you … what we did—”
“Hush, now.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t think that. I know you love me.”
“I—” What had he said?
“That’s all right. Maybe you don’t know it yet, or maybe I’m a cocky, overconfident son of a gun, but you are in love with me.”
“Why, of all the arrogant, presumptive …” She ran out of steam. He had her. “Yes, dammit, I love you.”
He cocked one eyebrow and grinned. “You’re a professor of Shakespeare and can’t come up with anything more romantic than ‘yes, dammit, I love you’?”
Her tears gone now, she fought another smile. “How would you say it, Wordsworth?”
“I don’t know anything about Wordsworth.” He covered both her hands and tugged them against his bare chest. “But I’ve known for a long time that I love you, whether you are Elizabeth or Fia. I knew we’d be good together, but we’re more than good. We’re out-of-this-world fantastic.”
“You’re the first and only woman who has me thinking about sharing a home, having a family, taking vacations. I know with this witness protection thing hanging over our heads we can’t make plans for the future, so I have little to offer you.” He moved their clasped hands to his left breast. “Except my heart.”
A more beautiful declaration of love she couldn’t imagine. She blinked back more tears—damn her emotions!—and smiled. “Wordsworth doesn’t have a thing on you.”
He kissed her then, a tender touch of his lips that tasted faintly of coffee. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him in place while she deepened the kiss. The touch of the bare skin of his chest against her breasts reignited her body. Her pulse pounded in her head, and her skin flushed with heat.
“I’d love to follow through on this, darlin’, but as it is we won’t have time to take our showers—”
“We will if we take one together.”
She knew then she’d be late for her first class.
Wil’s uniform being freshly washed and ironed enabled him to go straight to the office without heading home first. Slipping in the private door, he planned to emerge from his office as if he’d been at his desk for hours. Not that anyone tracked his time. He just didn’t want to invite gossip or speculation about where he’d spent the night.
First he called Sam’s to check on his dad. “Samuel’s already at work. He called the cabin but got no answer. Where are you?”
“Dad, I had to work half the night.” And he’d spent the other half in bed with Elizabeth, not that he’d admit that. “Did you need something? I can stop by—”
“Blazes, no. Hazel’s here to cook for me and walk Sophie. No need to worry about me.”
“That’s good to hear.” Wil ended the call, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. Two-day beards may have been the fashion with celebrities, but not the county sheriff. He had an electric razor in his desk drawer for emergencies like these.
Zelda caught him in mid-shave. “There you are. Special Agent Buckner’s looking for you. She seemed agog about something, so you better call her.”
“All right. What’s the latest weather report?”
Zelda shook her head. “Could be a category four by the time it hits Fernandina Beach. Schools have been canceled for tomorrow and probably Friday. I imagine your brother will shut down the college, too.”
“Don’t you have any good news?”
“Sure. If the storm hits tonight, it won’t be as strong. They’re saying that’s a possibility.”
Wil dismissed Zelda, who left and closed his office door. He called Ronda Lou’s cell number, and she answered on the first ring. “What’s up?” he asked.
“FBI has a history on your twenty-two pistol.”
“Great news.” This could be the break they needed in the Cathleen Hodges homicide. “Where are you now?” he asked.
“Boyd’s Diner, where I thought you’d be. Hurry, and I’ll have you a coffee waiting.”
“Be right over.” He stuck his head out the door long enough to tell Zelda where he’d be and then headed out his private entrance.
Ronda Lou and half the county probably wondered why neither he nor Elizabeth had showed for breakfast this morning. They could keep wondering. Sheriff or not, his personal life was nobody’s business. He checked the ugly gray sky and doubled back to his Jeep. Today was no day for walking.
As it turned out, he’d have been better off to walk, because he had to park two blocks from Boyd’s. Ronda Lou waited for him in a front table just inside the diner. As promised, a mug of coffee awaited him. He’d already had a cup from the pot he’d brewed at Elizabeth’s house. He’d shunned the second cup in favor of lovemaking in the shower. He couldn’t keep from smiling at that particular memory.
Reclaim My Life Page 20