Being reminded that she was a liar who could be involved in something deadly helped him control his desire enough to let her leave his company... and made him more determined than ever to uncover her secrets.
* * *
April forced herself to wait until Sunday evening before taking action. She had called Holly's apartment Saturday afternoon and evening, then called her cell phone twice on Sunday, all without a return call. Finally, she placed a call to Bobbi.
"Hello?"
The strong tone of the voice put April on alert. "Roberta?"
"Yes. How are you, April?"
"I'm fine, but I need to speak to Bobbi."
"I'm sorry. That's not possible right now."
It was difficult to deal with the Roberta personality face to face, over the phone was nearly impossible. April strengthened her own voice to one of supreme authority. "How long has Bobbi been away?"
"About a week, maybe a little more."
April deduced that the personality change probably occurred after their group meeting. "What have you done, Roberta?"
She paused long enough for April's tension to mount. "Nothing."
"You and I both know that's probably not true. Otherwise, Bobbi would be back. What did you tell her employer?"
The voice lost a good deal of its confidence. "She has a bad case of strep throat. She couldn't call in for herself."
"Listen to me, Roberta, you and I will have a long talk about this the next time we get together, but Bobbi has to come back now. She needs to report to work, and I need her to do an important favor for all of us."
"I could do it," Roberta countered a bit testily.
"Bobbi is better suited for this," April stated firmly. "Now let me talk to her." There was another momentary pause on the line, during which April could almost visualize the transfer of control.
"Hello?"
"Bobbi, it's April. Are you all right?"
Bobbi took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm just a little tired."
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"I, uh, I'm not sure. We were all meeting at the hotel, and I went back to my office and... I'm sorry, April. She was too strong this time."
"It's all right, Bobbi. We'll talk about it some more the next time we're together. The important thing is that you're back and I want you to work very hard on staying in control. Okay?" When Bobbi didn't answer right away, April used her most sympathetic voice to say, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Bobbi. You've made incredible progress, but I warned you that there would still be times when the pressure might get too great. If it starts again, I want you to call me right away. Don't try to handle it yourself for a while."
"All right."
"Good girl." Knowing that Roberta never allowed Bobbi to see or hear what was going on when she was in control, April brought her up to date about the Ziegler murder and Holly Kaufman's acceptance of the Frampton assignment.
"I would like you to give Holly a call at work tomorrow and suggest you get together for lunch. One of us needs to stay very close to her for the time being. I can't be there, and I think she'd be more apt to accept you as a friend than Rachel."
"Do you think she's going to cause problems?" Bobbi asked fearfully.
"No, no. Not at all. It's just a precaution because of the murder investigation."
"All right then. I'll keep an eye on her."
* * *
Holly had the old dream that night, only this time, instead of turning to find Tim Ziegler or a monster beside her, she saw David's face. At the point when she normally awoke covered in perspiration, he grinned at her and she nestled into his arms. Threads of the dream were still with her when the real David's travel alarm clock went off on the other side of the camper.
Friends! What an insane notion. What happened last night was proof that there was too much sexual attraction between them for a simple friendship. Twice he had shown that he could banish her common sense with nothing more than his kisses. Twice he had shown more control than she.
Last night she would have made love... No. Philip made love. With David it would have been fornication—a clinical, unemotional, biological function. But she had been ready to do it, enthusiastically, until he spoke and jarred her back to reality. Did that make him a gentleman, or a cold, calculating machine who could turn off his passion rather than be harassed by a clinging woman the next morning?
Though she realized she couldn't handle him the way she did Philip, the fact remained that David wanted her. Even with as little experience as she had, she knew that part of his interest stemmed from her refusal to acknowledge an attraction. She may not know the game as well as he, but if she could keep from giving in to him, she might be able to hold his attention long enough to watch him investigate Frampton. It was worth considering.
His comments about Erica Donner had shaken her but on reflection she realized they weren't uncalled for, since he was the reporter Erica had told her about. She was certain her answer had been logical, almost truthful, and that there really wouldn't be any reason for him to question her further about that relationship in the future. She would just have to keep in mind what an excellent memory for details he had and never reveal more about herself than she absolutely had to.
She hated the fact that David was completely at ease when he came out from behind his partition fully dressed. Busying herself with the coffeemaker gave her an excuse to avoid meeting his eyes. Again he surprised her by acting the part of the gentleman.
"While the coffee's brewing, I'll take care of refilling the water tank so you can shower later. Is fifteen minutes enough for you?"
She smiled, less shyly than she had yesterday. "Yes, thank you." Just before he walked out the door, she stopped him. "David? Could you do me another favor? I have a nine o'clock flight back to Washington tonight. Would you mind asking the manager if there's an airport shuttle that might pick me up here?"
His frown revealed that he hadn't realized she was leaving so soon, but he merely gave her a mock salute and left.
Several inches more rain had arrived during the night to drench the savaged land and scattered belongings of the dispossessed. Although it had stopped by the time David and Holly were riding to the site where they were to board the helicopter, the intense humidity made Holly think they were enveloped in a giant steam bath.
The news team's flight was slightly delayed, but it gave David and Holly a chance to speak with another man and woman who would be sharing the ride. The woman was the local reporter David had met the day before who had told him about the flight. The man was a marine biologist with the state Department of Natural Resources, and the others immediately took advantage of his knowledge.
Headphones allowed the conversation to continue after they were in the air. The islands looked as though they had been bombed by an enemy intent on total devastation. Key West had suffered damage similar to Key Largo in that some of the newer structures were still partially standing. However, the islands in between had been decimated.
The biologist pointed out that for another week or so, the water would be too murky to judge the damage to the reefs, but it was expected to be massive. They passed over a sunken ship in shallow water, and he explained how it had undoubtedly been pushed there by one of the tidal surges during the storm. It could be dragged back into deeper water again, but it would be decades before its previous function as an artificial reef would be restored.
Holly was disappointed that she could not get any clear indication of reef damage and that the cloudy day was going to limit the quality of the pictures she was taking.
Unfortunately, the weather reports sounded as though this was the way it was going to be for the rest of the week, so it would make no sense to extend her stay. It would be more efficient to go home and figure out how she could help there. If nothing else, she and Philip could put pressure on the government to act quickly and attend to the needs of the environment as well as the people.
Concentrating on the biologi
st's monologue and the scene on the ground occupied her thoughts until David distracted her. He didn't need to speak to her or touch her. She could feel him watching her, daring her to look at him. She ordered herself not to let him see that she picked up his unspoken message, but her eyes betrayed her.
Turning her head toward him, she was suddenly caught in a visual snare that no gentleman would have cast in public. He should not have been looking at her that way, as if he was remembering the way she moved beneath his hands. It was possibly the most erotic moment she had ever experienced. She dragged her gaze away from his, but the effort caused a shiver to streak through her that was more telling than any verbal admission would have been.
David smiled to himself as he noted the hot flush on her cheekbones. It was gratifying to know that she hadn't been able to banish the memory of last night's kisses any better than he had. He hadn't been able to sleep all night and her indifferent attitude that morning had him searching for a bit of reassurance. Now he was certain her imminent departure would not prevent him from establishing the bond he wanted. He would just pick up where they left off once he was back in the capital.
Then he would keep after her until he knew every last secret she had.
Around midday, a steady downpour forced them to give up. The heated glance they had exchanged in the helicopter seemed to have sparked a chain reaction of looks and accidental touches that made it difficult for them to keep their minds on their work. The necessity of their bodies' positioning on the Vespa now seemed more intimate than it had before, but the rain required David to give his full attention to the road ahead of him.
By the time they returned to the motorhome, they were drenched to the skin and chilled, despite the warm temperature. David hustled Holly inside the camper and straight into the small shower stall.
"Why are we squished inside the bathroom?" Holly asked, laughing as he closed the plastic accordion door on them.
"Saving the carpet—and getting us warm." He shifted so that he could turn on the shower behind him.
"David! My shoes—"
"—are already soaked. Now get undressed while there's still some hot water."
"I am not taking my clothes off with you in here. In fact, there isn't enough room for two people to breathe let alone perform the contortions it would take to undress." He proved her wrong by kicking off his shoes, then pulling his shirt over his head. The shirt landed on top of the shoes with a wet plop as his fingers undid the button on his slacks.
Her eyes widened as she realized he was quite serious, but she was determined not to give him the pleasure of seeing her run from him.
"What's the matter, lady, haven't you ever seen a male striptease before?"
She couldn't make herself return his easy laughter any more than she could tell him the truth—that she had never watched a man undress, that in her few previous encounters, she had been in the dark or had averted her eyes.
He was lean, and solid, with a smattering of wet brown hair on his chest that arrowed down into his pants. She continued to stare as he tugged the clinging material down his hips and maneuvered in the narrow space to shed the remainder of his clothing. Looking at his body made her want to know if it felt as firm as it appeared. Only when he straightened, allowing her to see the full effect her staring had on him, did she manage to turn away.
A heartbeat later he spun her back around and used his body to pin her against the fiberglass wall. "Too late for games. I came in here with a practical purpose in mind, but the way you were looking at me wasn't at all practical." His lips brushed over hers.
She frowned, finding it impossible to think with his naked body pressed against hers. Her hands came up to push him away, but contact with the slick muscled flesh of his shoulders made her fingers crave for more.
"Show and tell time, Holly. I went first. Now it's your turn. Tell me you want me."
She moved her head from side to side. "I don't."
His hand slipped between their bodies and captured her breast. "Liar," he whispered, giving her taut nipple a squeeze. "If you won't tell me, I guess you'll have to show me." His mouth took possession of hers before she could deny him again.
Instead of the seductive tenderness he had lured her with before, his new weapon was raw hunger. It drew her into him, making her taste his need, demanding she appease it. And, god help her, she wanted to, for the same hunger was searing her insides.
In a frenzy of arms and legs, pulling and tugging in the cramped quarters, her clothes joined his on the shower floor. Desperate gnawing kisses and groping hands made words unnecessary. Yet, with her arms and legs wrapped around him, and his shaft moving urgently against her sensitized flesh, he spoke.
"Tell me you're on the pill."
She heard his question through the fog of desire in her mind and answered without analyzing what he meant. "Yes."
He exhaled heavily then rubbed his length against her until she moaned. "Now tell me you want me, and you can have me."
The arrogant bastard was not going to win this one. "Go to hell."
"Fine. But you're coming with me." His body penetrated hers in one hard, upward thrust.
She cried out, unable to hide the relief she felt to have the teasing end. Anchoring her nails in his back and her heels in his thighs, she rode the violent waves he created, unaware of anything but the sensations spiraling through her. There was no right or wrong, goals or reasoning.
Only pleasure.
The explosion of her climax and the shimmering aftershocks held her immobilized until he separated their bodies and set her back onto her feet.
Some time ago the water had stopped flowing, but only now did he turn off the faucets and open the door to let the steam escape. Holly remained where she was, feeling strangely detached as he took a towel off the rack and dried them both off. When he tugged on her hand and led her out of the mini-bathroom, the liquid warmth began to evaporate, but not enough to stop her from following him. At the foot of the bed he let go of her hand to pull down the spread.
"What are you doing?" she asked even as he eased her onto the bed beside him.
"Now, Holly, I know you're stubborn, but you're not stupid."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She tried to sound indignant, but didn't quite make it as she watched his finger circle the outside of her breast then spiral closer and closer to the tip. Involuntarily, she arched into his palm and he chuckled.
"I mean, you can't possibly think that was it. That was fucking—not what I wanted to do with you at all. But you just had to be stubborn about it and, well, you know I have a bit of a temper. However, I'm not going to let your stubbornness or my temper rob us both of a memorable experience. Now we're going to make love."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. No, he couldn't possibly know she had been mentally comparing him to Philip earlier.
"The manager said he'd personally drive you to the airport at six-thirty." His hand moved down to shape her hip and stroke her thigh. "Hmm. Four hours. I'll have to cut out a few of my special interrogation techniques, but I should still be able to manage it."
"Now what are you talking about?" She swatted at the hand creeping up her inner thigh.
"Before you leave, I want three things from you. One, you're going to admit you want me. In fact, you're going to beg me to satisfy you." His tongue stroked the curve of her ear. "Again."
"Never," she stated confidently, in spite of the ripple that passed through her stomach.
As if he had sensed her physical response, he traced an abstract design over her abdomen. "Two, you're going to tell me what you wanted from me to begin with."
She stiffened. "That's ridiculous. I told you before, I didn't want anything from you. Somehow your overblown ego caused you to jump to a very wrong conclusion about me."
"Maybe. We'll see. But that brings us to three. The last time we parted, we were furious with each other. I have no doubt you never intended to speak to me again." He smiled at the admission in
her eyes. "This time, when you walk away, you won't be able to forget you ever met me. You won't be able to forget one"—he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead—"single"—on the tip of her nose—"minute." His lips caressed hers with infinite tenderness, over and over until she turned into his arms and gave herself up to whatever he had in mind.
Good lord. Had she really thought Philip made love to her? The phrase, as she had interpreted it, had no correlation to what she and David shared for the remainder of the afternoon. He made love to her fingers, her toes, the sensitive skin behind her knees. He aroused her with erotic whisperings and promises, then proved the actual deeds more exciting still. Each time she felt as though she could go no higher, he carried her beyond. He made her sigh and moan, laugh and groan, and sigh again.
Where Philip was grateful to worship at the passive shrine of her body, David demanded her full participation, made suggestions that became orders if she hesitated or showed reluctance, then teased her when her innocence showed through.
She had never made love in the daytime. She had never made love with a mature, virile male animal, when she could see that every inch she touched was one hundred percent delicious man. At the ripe old age of thirty-nine, Holly could honestly say, she had never made love.
At six-thirty, while David lay sound asleep, she left the motorhome. She had successfully managed to withhold the first two things he had wanted, but she knew he had scored an overwhelming victory with the third.
There was no turning back now.
She would be David Wells's mistress... and he would be her instrument of revenge.
Chapter 12
"You've got till the count of five to clear out."
The intern's mouth dropped open. "I'm right in the middle of a paragraph, Mr. Wells. The boss said I could use this desk while you were gone."
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