Carnal Vengeance

by Marilyn Campbell

  She took a deep breath that caused her breasts to brush against his shirt then smiled ever so slightly. "Never." His lips parted, drawing her attention, but before he could begin his seduction, she heard Philip's voice in the reception area and immediately pulled away. By the time Philip entered her office, she was behind her desk.

  "Good morning," he said brightly. Then his gaze fell on David and his smile slipped. "Sorry, Holly. I didn't know you had an appointment." He nodded to David, but pointedly did not offer his hand. "Walsh, isn't it?"

  "Wells. David Wells," he replied, with no indication that the mistake bothered him. "I'll only take a few more minutes of Holly's time. I'm doing a follow-up on Hurricane Brigitte and I needed to go over something she told me while we were there."

  Philip's spine straightened. He looked to Holly for an explanation, but she just glared at Wells.

  David grinned with exaggerated innocence. "You mean she didn't tell you about our cooperative venture? It's really a very funny story. Ask her to relate it when she has more time."

  Philip turned his frown on Holly. "Holly? Do you need my assistance?" His voice remained level, despite what had to be going on inside him.

  She made herself meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile. "No. It's all right. I'll give Mr. Wells what he needs then I'll be right with you."

  As soon as Philip left, David closed the door with a soft click and turned a lascivious smile on her. "Just how are you going to give Mr. Wells what he needs? On the desk? Or maybe up against the wall, for old times' sake."

  "Shut up!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "How dare you do that to me?"

  He raised one eyebrow. "How was I supposed to know it was a secret?" He turned his back on her and studied a picture on the wall.

  "That was the most infantile display of male ego I have ever witnessed. If you had any decency, you would understand that I don't want to hurt him."

  He whirled around on her. "Oh, no? There were a number of people in Florida who knew we were sharing that motorhome. Add to that how many people saw us at dinner, the symphony, the zoo and the bar. How long did you figure it would be before your lapdog heard about us? If I'd known you wanted to be discreet, believe me, I could have arranged it."

  "Oh, I'm sure you could. I heard cuckolding husbands is one of your specialties."

  His expression hardened as he stared down his nose at her. "The last I heard, you weren't married. At least I don't pretend to be faithful to one person while I'm screwing my ass off with another one."

  She bolted from her chair and closed the distance between them. "No. You'll just screw your ass off with any woman that stands still long enough."

  He grabbed her upper arms and yanked her hard against him. "Like this? You're standing still. Since I'm nothing but a walking prick, I should just take what I want right now and the hell with you." His mouth crushed hers with brutal intent, demanding she submit to his greater strength, insisting she accept his will over hers. He paid no heed to her frightened whimper as his fingers tangled in her hair and tugged until she opened her mouth for his deeper assault.

  But, moments later, he couldn't ignore her rigid body or the dampness on her cheek.

  Though he didn't release her, he gentled the kiss and stroked her face with trembling hands, wordlessly begging forgiveness. He made love to her mouth until she relaxed and was almost kissing him back. Ending the kiss, he continued to hold her in a possessive embrace with her head pressed to his chest. "You make me crazy. Do you know that?"

  She nodded. "But it's only fair since you do the same to me."

  "I guess I wasn't very nice."

  "No." She sniffed. "But neither was I."

  "Are you going to tell Philip you're seeing me?"

  "Yes. He doesn't deserve to hear it from someone else."

  "I've never been jealous before. I don't like it."

  She tilted her head back and looked at him with a surprised expression.

  David smiled at her. "After what I just pulled with Philip, I'd rather confess than have you think I'm just a complete asshole. Ever since you told me you're on the pill, I've had these visions of the two of you... I know I have no right to ask about your relations with other men, and I should drop this while I'm ahead, but like I said, this is new to me."

  Holly felt a flurry of pure feminine satisfaction at his discomfort. "You can ask, if you're willing to answer the same question for me." His immediate reaction let her know she had asked for something he considered completely off-limits.

  Then he raised his eyes heavenward and sighed. "I haven't been with anyone else since the first time I saw you."

  Another flurry tickled her lower abdomen. She was tempted to keep him hanging, but her experience with his temper discouraged that notion. "I told you before. I take the pill because I have horrible, irregular periods without it. Philip and I are close friends. We work together and often socialize together... but I go to bed alone." She didn't see any point in mentioning the unsuccessful attempt she'd made a few weeks ago.

  "Good," he said simply but his expression seemed to contradict the word.

  Holly's intercom buzzed in time to prevent him from making more of a fool of himself. While she spoke to Evelyn, David grabbed a tissue and wiped the smudged makeup from under her eyes and the lipstick from his mouth.

  She hung up and clucked her tongue. "My appointment's waiting in Philip's office and I'm not ready. As illuminating as the past half hour has been, please believe me when I say, I don't ever want to start another day this way. Now, please go away."

  Instead of obeying, he pulled her back into his arms. "I want three things first."

  She groaned loudly. "What now?"

  "A kiss." She touched her lips to his for a split second. "Hmmm. I should have been more specific. Next, come away for the weekend with me, to an incredible place I know up in the mountains." When she hesitated, he added, "My editor gave me the time off to follow up on that story we talked about. I've done some checking and I'll be leaving town on Monday. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Say yes."

  The trip to her parents was off and she could easily postpone the weekend with April. "All right," she said, as pleased about spending the weekend with him as with his announcement that he would be following up on the Frampton information.

  "And third, admit you're crazy about me."

  After item number two, she was ready to grant him a concession. "Well... I don't dislike you anymore." She pulled his head down for a real kiss, then said sternly, "But I want you out of here before I change my mind."

  Touching up her makeup didn't take away the sensation that his lips were still on hers, nor did gathering up the papers needed for her meeting banish him from her thoughts. His confession of jealousy and admission that he wasn't seeing other women elated her, while a separate realization of her own brought her down again.

  For a short time there she had been truly furious with him, hurt by him, had said hateful things to try to get back at him, then enjoyed making up more than anything else they had done together. In effect, she had been reacting as if they had a real relationship.

  A real relationship didn't fit in with her plans. All her efforts would be wasted if she lost sight of the true reason she was spending time with him.

  And all her hard-earned independence would be forfeited if she opened her heart to someone like David Wells.

  If only she could remember that longer than two seconds after he kissed her.

  For the next hour, Holly struggled to maintain her professional composure on the outside while juggling a myriad of emotions on the inside. In spite of all her years of practice, guarding herself against men and their attempts to attract her attention, David continually undermined her equilibrium as if she were a complete novice. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend kept breaking through her best attempts to concentrate on the business at hand.

  If that wasn't bad enough, Philip's scowl was so severe, he was making their guest nervous. Each ti
me Holly glanced at him, she could see a mixture of accusation and pain in his eyes. She had promised David she would tell Philip about them, but that was while David had her in his arms—a clear case of duress. Looking at Philip, her longtime friend and mentor, a man who repeatedly told her he loved her and wanted to marry her, she realized she couldn't fulfill that promise, at least not in the way David intended.

  There was no question she would have to make some explanations. They would just have to be tempered to cause Philip as little concern as possible. After all, Philip was the one who had always been there for her, the one who would still be there long after David tired of her.

  By the time the meeting wound down, Holly came to a conclusion. She would have to tell Philip about the Little Sister Society and why she was spending time with David.

  The moment Evelyn left at the end of the day, Philip came into Holly's office, clearly prepared for a confrontation. "How could you do this to me?"

  "I know I should have explained sooner but I really didn't want to involve you."

  Philip's expression was one of pure disbelief. "Good Lord, Holly! How could I not be involved if you're seeing another man?"

  "It's not what you think. Let me—"

  "Not what I think? I don't need to think. I saw it. Written all over both your faces this morning." His own face flushed with anger.

  "Please—"

  "I love you," he interrupted as he paced off the few steps in front of her desk. "You've never said you loved me, but I accepted that, as long as I was the only man in your life. It might not be so bad if I was losing you to a better man. David Wells isn't good enough to... to... wipe your shoes on!"

  "I am trying to explain—"

  "I asked a few people about him this afternoon," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He's known as much for his sexual prowess as his journalistic fervor. I also heard he has a particular preference for buxom, blue-eyed blondes. You're nothing more than another matched trophy to him and you don't have enough experience to realize it. I can't imagine what kind of act he put on to win your attention. Knowing from personal experience that you haven't the slightest interest in sex, he must have some other talent no one else is aware of. What did he do, Holly?"

  Suddenly he sat down on the chair across from her, his shoulders slumping with dejection. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What was it that I didn't do?"

  She saw the moisture in his eyes and felt his grief. She owed him so much, and everything he said about David was true. Hearing it aloud helped her stand by her earlier decision not to tell Philip the whole truth.

  She moved to the chair next to him and covered his hand with hers. "David Wells means nothing to me. This is all my fault for not explaining everything right from the beginning." She meant to be brief, but once she began telling him about the Little Sister Society, she found herself describing each of the women and their personal experiences.

  When he asked, she only hesitated a moment before giving him the names of the men left on the list. Somehow she convinced herself that the more honest she was about this, the less guilty she would feel over lying about David. The odd part was, Philip didn't seem surprised by anything she revealed, almost as though he had heard it all before. He just sat there nodding as she spoke. She wondered if he could be in shock.

  "And so, the only reason I have spent any time at all with David Wells is to make sure he follows up on the lead about Jerry Frampton. The fact that we were both in Florida at the same time was a coincidence caused by nature. You must have seen the articles he's done on the environmental impact of the hurricane."

  Philip shrugged. "I did, but until he threw it in my face, I wasn't letting myself consider how he had gotten his information."

  "I was wrong not to let you know we had spent some time together down there, but I was afraid—"

  "That I'd react exactly like I did," Philip completed with an embarrassed smile.

  "I'm sorry."

  He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry. I should have known I could trust you." He lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss.

  She felt her stomach turn to lead and reminded herself this was for the best. Everything would work out fine in the end. But for now, she had one more lie to tell. "By the way, one of the women asked me to visit her this weekend and I decided to take her up on it."

  "Oh? Which one?"

  "April."

  "The psychiatrist?"

  "Yes. Maybe I'll come back Sunday night with a whole new outlook on life."

  * * *

  Holly's attitude actually began changing Friday as she and David were driving up into Maryland's Blue Ridge Mountains. Up to that point, she had purposely stopped herself from initiating any action between them, be it communication or lovemaking, in order to keep him coming after her. Once he did, of course, she found it impossible not to respond to him.

  After the volatile scene in her office, she had no doubt he was captivated, at least momentarily. The problem was, he continued to withhold one nicety that could no longer go unnoticed. He had never once called her on the telephone. Oh, he always had an excuse for not calling, but Holly had finally realized he had a quirk about it.

  He was about to embark on a trip of unknown length, the details of which had become vitally important to her. How could she get a vicarious thrill out of his investigation, if he didn't call her while he was on the trail? Their relationship had not progressed to the point where she could logically ask to accompany him on a business trip. His antipathy toward telephone communication was an annoying factor she hadn't counted on.

  Thus she set out to make his weekend so memorable that he couldn't possibly put her out of his mind while he was gone. If she was attentive enough, entertaining enough, good enough, perhaps he wouldn't be able to resist giving her a call or two. Then it would be natural for her to question how his investigation was going.

  She decided to follow April's advice and take the pressure off. Surprisingly, once she removed the restrictions she had placed on herself, she didn't have to consciously think about how to act. It felt right to reach over and stroke his neck while he was driving, or lean into him and whisper something outrageous in his ear while they were having dinner in the lodge's restaurant, or suggest that they order the rest of their meals from room service. Making love in the woods where he had taken her on a hike had been his idea, but she didn't let her normal inhibitions stop her from enjoying it to the fullest.

  Everything about their stay in the romantic hideaway was as memorable as she had hoped it would be... until Sunday afternoon.

  David had made arrangements for a late checkout, so they still had the whole day to spend any way they wanted. He was willing to miss the football game, but she assured him that she wanted to watch it with him. When the time came, he turned on the television and settled on the big bed with her cuddled in his arms.

  After the usual run of commercial announcements, a serious-faced commentator came onscreen.

  "As the first game of the season is about to begin here in Philadelphia, rather than the usual festive atmosphere, the mood is somber. In case you just tuned in, we have tragic news to share. Billy O'Day was brutally murdered in his hotel room last night. The police..."

  "No," Holly uttered, abruptly sitting upright. "That can't be."

  "What—"

  "Sh-shh," she said, waving him to be quiet so that she could hear what was being reported.

  "...FBI involvement in the case. Although exact details have not been released, it has been revealed that certain gruesome aspects bear a distinct similarity to the recent murder of Pennsylvania Senator Timothy Ziegler. The possibility of a serial killer stalking public figures is being considered. In the meantime, although Billy O'Day will not be on the field today, his teammates and all his fans will be thinking about him."

  David eased Holly back beside him. "My god, you're ice-cold." He studied her face. "And you're white as a ghost." He suddenly remembered how intently she had listened to t
he comments about O'Day when they had been in the sports bar last week. "Holly, did you know him?"

  "I... no... I..." Her mind scrambled to form a logical answer. The implication of what she just heard was so mind-boggling her only thought was of self-preservation. She needed time alone to think this through. Taking a slow, deep breath, she pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. It probably had something to do with that conversation we had last Sunday about him having to retire at such an early age."

  He wanted to believe her. He really did. But she was such a poor liar. Despite all the progress they'd made that weekend, she was still not confiding anything truly personal. He could try forcing it out of her, play it tough and threatening, but he knew instinctively that would only push her away from him completely, and as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't yet ready to let her go.

  No, this one he was going to have to figure out another way. He mentally added the name Billy O'Day to his list of people Holly had a connection with. He would do a little investigating about that man's background right after he got back from his trip to Florida.

  They both made an effort to restore the former mood of the weekend and they both pretended not to notice that it didn't quite work.

  With David leaving for Miami early the next morning, there was no question of his staying at Holly's apartment that night. She barely managed to keep thoughts of O'Day, Ziegler, and the Little Sister Society submerged until David left her alone.

  The two murders couldn't possibly be coincidental, and yet she couldn't see herself walking into the FBI and suggesting that one of the women she had met was a deranged killer. How could she say anything to anyone without revealing how she had come to that conclusion? She'd practically be handing herself over as a suspect, and as Erica had made her realize, she had no alibi for the night Ziegler was murdered.