“Reporters?” Thorne asked.
She nodded. “All looking for a story. And they all left voicemails.” Without listening to even one, she erased them all.
He said, “That might not keep the media away, but maybe it’ll keep you sane a while longer.”
Leaning against the arm of her sofa, she said, “It seems you want to talk about what happened tonight. So what’s on your mind?”
Thorne moved closer. He appeared thoughtful. Serious. Seriously sexy. The soft light from the lamp intensified his features, painting him cover-model gorgeous. She couldn’t stop staring at him. At the thick lashes over his wide hazel eyes. The strong nose with a tiny offset that made her think it had been broken at some time. The broad mouth she’d tasted only once but still hungered for.
He broke into her thoughts. “I was wondering if Sam Gilbert had any enemies.”
The question shocked her. “Sam? No! He was normally easygoing. Everyone liked him.”
“No altercations at the bar with someone who had had too much to drink?” Thorne asked. “Maybe something last weekend?”
“Nothing like what happened last night.” Her throat tightened as she remembered the drunk Thorne had taken care of. “At least none that I know of. Why?”
He shrugged. “Sunday night was the last time you saw him, right?”
“Right…” She hesitated and frowned.
“But?” he asked.
“On Monday, Sam called to ask me if he’d left his sunglasses at the bar.”
“How did he sound?”
“Normal. Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t know. Daddy had just called to tell me he wanted to hire a bodyguard for me, and I was a little on edge from the argument we had.” Even though she hadn’t thought the threat reached all the way to her. “So maybe I wasn’t paying attention if Sam was upset about something.”
“Did you find his sunglasses?”
“Yes, exactly where he thought he’d left them.”
“Then he came to get them from you?”
She shook her head. “No. I had errands to run, so I left them in a window box next to the guest-house entry. They were gone when I returned that evening. You think his coming back here had something to do with what happened to him?”
“It does put him back on the scene.”
A thought that made her stomach knot. “The ME said he’d only been in the lake for approximately forty-eight hours. That means he was alive until Thursday.”
“I assume so. But he didn’t show for work on Tuesday.”
“So maybe something happened here on Monday to stop him from coming in,” she mused. Now her chest tightened, and she had trouble taking a deep breath. “If so it’s m-my fault.” Her eyes stung and she fought another round of useless tears. “I-I should have told him I would drop off the sunglasses….”
Suddenly, Thorne’s arms shot around her and his forehead lightly touched hers. “No, Katelyn, what happened to Sam isn’t your fault.”
Now her heart was beating fast, but it had less to do with Sam’s death than it did with the physical contact. Thorne pressing against her set off things she didn’t want to feel. It took her a bit to gather her thoughts.
“Then what conclusion are you making?” she gasped.
His smoothing a lock of hair from her cheek distracted her even further.
“No conclusion,” he said. “Just trying to cover all the bases.”
She swallowed hard. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? A man died here and I’m concerned for you.”
Thorne coming to her rescue? Again?
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you better than you think.” His voice held a gruff edge when he added, “And I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
“Why?” she asked again.
He answered by kissing her. Softly.
Eyes open, Katelyn allowed it, though she didn’t participate. Not at first.
It didn’t take long for his persuasive mouth to draw her in. She closed her eyes. Parted her lips. Accepted the tongue that instantly flicked against hers. Suckled it in a rhythm that stirred long-dormant needs in her.
He held her tighter against him. Her breasts responded to his heat, eliciting a soft gasp from her. She felt a throbbing against her groin and realized he was as turned on as she. Despite the layers of clothing between them, she lit from within.
Part of her thought she shouldn’t be feeling this.
Not with him.
Not now.
Another part, the part deep inside herself, argued that he was exactly what she needed right now. Someone to hold her close, to bring her to a world far away from the reality of what she’d faced tonight. She didn’t have to think about what had happened to her employee and friend. She just needed to feel. To do. To be taken from the horrible sadness that threatened to crush her. A mindless, life-affirming connection that would distract her was exactly what she needed.
So when he slid a hand between them, stroked her belly, and slowly moved his hand lower, she opened for him and invited him in.
As Thorne slid his hand between her thighs, he tried to hold himself back despite his need. Despite hers. He’d been fighting this attraction since the moment he’d met Katelyn. Having her in his arms now, so soft and warm and needing him, needing something he could give her even if for only one night, he couldn’t resist.
Her squirming against him ignited desires he could no longer deny. He slid his hand inside the front of her pants, down her belly, taking an imprint of every inch of her silky flesh. His fingers found her slickness and he slid them deeper. When he stroked her, she cried out and his erection responded. He wanted to bury more than fingers in her, but she rocked against his hand. Denying her was impossible. He rubbed her clit with his thumb until she was breathing shallow and fast, mewling at him, grabbing his shirt with both fists. Her bottom rose from where it rested on the sofa’s arm, spreading her wider.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?”
“Have me.”
“I am.”
“No.” Her voice caught in a half sob. “I need…”
“What?”
“To feel you.”
She let go of her death grip on his shirt and slid both hands down to his belt, quickly unbuckling it. Then she attacked his zipper. Then him. He almost lost it at her first touch.
“Wait!” he growled.
But she didn’t wait. She stroked him with a deliberation he fought hard. With his free hand, he pulled down her pants, first on one side, then on the other. Somehow he got them off of her, took her right there against the couch. She wrapped her legs around his back, her arms around his neck. He moved in her and quickly felt her start to tighten around him.
She was ready.
She was starting to come….
He kissed her, nuzzling her mouth and then her neck. Lightly scoring her throat with his teeth, he stroked her slowly and deliberately and made her trip to paradise last for what seemed like forever. And when she cried out, a triumphant wail, she took him with her.
Once all spent, they collapsed over the sofa arm onto the cushions together, him tenting her with his body.
Still at first, she then shifted, as if trying to move out from under him.
Now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go so easily.
Slipping his hand between their bodies once more, he found her sweet spot and without words convinced her to stay a while longer.
The night had just begun.
—
Katelyn had never known sex could be this good. In the past, she’d found it to be pleasant. Titillating. Satisfying in a way she could describe in a brief sentence or two.
Never had any man taken her where Thorne did.
Never before had she been so enthralled.
She’d never been with a man with his strength before—both outer and inner. He was a rescuer. Someone who put others’ n
eeds ahead of his own.
Thorne had taken her out of herself twice in a very short time, lighting up her mind with an electrical charge that she could literally see. That wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Lusty her. Greedy. Needy. Unprepared to be separated from him, she grabbed his shirt with both hands and hung on as he lifted her from the sofa into his arms.
For a moment, they stared at each other. What was he thinking? Did he want her again? So soon?
His kiss answered her silent question.
Now in a lip-lock, he danced her to the bedroom where he finished stripping her, stripped himself, then started her internal engine all over again. They fell back on the bed attached in the most intimate of ways, him on top, her arms back against the quilt, his fingers laced through hers. He continued kissing her and rolled so that they were reversed. Staring down at him, she admired every feature. She traced the angles of his flesh first with her eyes, then with her hands.
Face. Neck. Shoulders.
When she got to his chest, he raised his head and kissed her with a fierceness she recognized but didn’t understand. He drove up into her.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. Taking her with him on the ride of her life.
She watched his features reflect both agony and ecstasy, and when he shouted his approval, the primal, guttural sound cut through her and took her with him.
—
Katelyn woke up facing the lake windows, sore but satisfied. Dawn had broken and shafts of early sunlight filtered into the bedroom. Stretching, thinking about some early-morning satisfaction, she grinned foolishly as she turned to the other side of the bed.
Empty.
Disappointment filtered through her. She hadn’t expected to be abandoned, and without a word from Thorne, not after the night they’d shared. Maybe he hadn’t left. Slipping out of bed, she pulled a sheet free and wrapped it around herself before poking her head into the bathroom.
Also empty.
Taking a big breath, she traded the bedroom for the living area in hopes she would find him there.
Empty again.
Why was she surprised? She’d had a lifetime of not fitting in with people she wanted to care about. Her father’s family, for starters. Why should Thorne be any different?
Remembering why they’d been together and what lay ahead for her, Katelyn realized empty was all she had to look forward to. No work today to keep her busy. Thoughts of Sam filling her mind. And sometime soon, the authorities would be crawling over the property, looking for evidence that would tell them whether or not Sam’s death had been an accident. She couldn’t stand it. She really couldn’t. If she was here, she would have to watch. That sick feeling would fill her again until it consumed her.
She simply wanted to run away…but to where?
“You’re awake.”
Katelyn flew around to face the apartment door so fast she almost dropped the sheet. “You’re back.” Her heart thundered in her chest at his return.
His hands full, Thorne grinned appreciatively at her dishevelment. “I went to Stanley’s to get us some breakfast.”
Smelling fresh coffee and other luscious scents wafting from the big bag he carried, she relaxed. “How did you know Stanley’s was open this early?”
“I did a little research when I woke up starving. That’s why they call it a smartphone.”
“I can’t eat breakfast like this, wrapped in a sheet.”
He shrugged. “You could always drop it.”
She tried a faux frown on him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“That I would.” He grinned harder. “I can guarantee you would like it even more.”
She was already backing toward her bedroom. “How about getting breakfast ready on the island while I take a quick shower?”
Setting down the bag, he said, “I volunteer to wash your back!”
“I’m locking my door!” she warned him.
Only once inside the bedroom she didn’t even close the door completely. She was half-hoping Thorne would carry through with his playful threat. If the food got cold, they could always warm it up in the microwave, after all. But when he didn’t come after her by the time she turned on the shower, discarded the sheet, and stepped under the water, she realized the threat had been empty. She was going to have to wash her own back.
Even so, she couldn’t stop smiling as she soaped herself up. Thorne hadn’t left her on her own, after all. He’d returned bearing gifts. Maybe they could spend the day together. Get away from this place for a while. Get away from Lake Geneva. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Being with Thorne would be a bonus. Let the police do their job without her having to witness the procedure. Just going into town wasn’t far enough away, not if reporters were on her trail. They would surely find her, interrogate her, photograph her. Undoubtedly, they would somehow dig up her connection to her father. Somehow that now seemed inevitable. This was the wrong time, the worst time possible, to be connected to Robert Hamilton.
She was showered and dressed in capris and a tank top and back in her living area in five minutes. A cup of coffee in hand, Thorne was waiting for her at the island, which was already set up with plates and flatware and containers of food.
He shot an eyebrow up at her. “That was fast.”
“Because no one had my back.” Shrugging, she eyed the containers of food—eggs, ham, French toast, potatoes, and fruit. “Who all did you invite to breakfast?”
“A woman who proved she had an insatiable appetite last night.”
Flushing at the reference to their intimacy, she slid onto a stool. “Good thing I’m hungry for food this morning.”
—
Watching her eat turned him on. Then, again, everything she did turned him on. Though he regretted not carrying through with that back scrub, he knew he needed to rein himself in. He hadn’t been hired to make love to her half the night.
If she knew why he was really here…
He didn’t want to think about it. The guilt was already eating at him. As much as he’d wanted her, he should have taken the high road. Deprived himself. Undoubtedly she would learn that her father had hired him soon enough. He couldn’t imagine avoiding it. And he couldn’t stand the thought of how that would make her feel. He was getting too close, more than physically. He couldn’t afford to do that. Not now. Not ever. There was a reason he’d never had a true and honest relationship with a woman. There were parts of himself that he could never share, not with anyone, and certainly not with a woman who was as close to an innocent as he’d ever known.
Unlike him, she didn’t have a duplicitous bone in her body.
When more than half the feast was demolished, he said, “I thought we could do something together away from Lakeside today.”
“I have no interest in watching the authorities process the ‘crime scene.’ I had the same thought about getting away from here practically the minute I woke up. But how can I avoid it?”
“How about we get away from Lake Geneva altogether?”
“I have a business to run.”
“Not the café. And your assistant manager can take care of the guest house. You know, some reporter will track you down if you stick around town.”
She shuddered. “I know that will happen sooner or later.”
“Well, let’s make it later.” He could see a ray of hope in her expression.
“Getting away for a day wouldn’t hurt anything, I guess. I don’t care what we do. I really could use a day of peace and quiet to process everything that’s happened.”
Relieved, he was glad he didn’t have to force her into his truck to get her out of town, away from potential danger. “Sounds good to me. I know a great place we can go where no reporters will follow.”
“Where?”
With Hamilton’s help, he’d secured a secluded lake cabin a half hour north of Lake Geneva before he’d even arrived in town. A very upscale and private property. Just in case it was needed.
“I don’t want to spoi
l the surprise,” he told her.
“A surprise?” She frowned. “I’m not sure I need any more surprises right now.”
“I promise you it’s a good one.”
No doubt she was again thinking of the horrible shock they’d had the night before. “Just pack a bathing suit and a change of clothes and we can be on our way for the day.”
Her smile in response was familiar.
Brilliant.
Warm.
Her.
“Sounds good to me,” she said.
To him, also. Better than it should. His pulse rushed faster at the thought of time alone with her.
But taking her away for one day wouldn’t be enough to keep her safe, not unless the authorities figured out the source of the threat faster than he assumed they would. The FBI was involved in the task force. So far, they knew the email threat to her father had come from a public computer at a chain eatery in Milwaukee. Any customer could have used it. He knew the agents were investigating credit card receipts from around the time the email was launched to possibly find the sender. But if the sender had paid cash for his or her food, or not eaten at all, there would be no record for them to find.
“You’d better get packed.” He started clearing the table. “Make sure you bring something warm, too, in case it gets cool.”
“It’ll only get cool at night.”
“True.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “All right, then. After I help you.”
“I’ve got it,” he said. “Go.”
“But you have to pack, too.”
Having anticipated getting her out of Lake Geneva one way or another, he’d beat her to it. His packed bag was waiting by his door upstairs. When he went up to fetch it, he would text her father to let the man know he was taking her to the cabin that Hamilton had arranged for him to use.
“I can handle this and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes,” he said. “It’ll probably take you that long to decide what to bring.”
She gaped at him for a second, then flipped around and with a big sigh of determination headed for her bedroom. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
His Deception Page 9