He had once exchanged a few tense words with Bresler – but that was in the last year, and even if Daniel hadn’t verified that Bresler was in Seattle at the time of Ian’s kidnapping, Elias’s gut said the hate was too personal, too long-lived, for a man who’d gotten his way despite a few delays.
Ron Campbell. Elias had tangled with him a few times, too, mostly over environmental issues. Ron was all about development, Elias in favor of protecting the dunes and forest that remained.
He kept circling back to high school.
The two hadn’t had much to do with each other in high school – except for the caricature he’d drawn for the school newspaper. Then running for student body president, Ron had been spitting mad about it. Caricature could be sharp, or it could be cruel. Elias was afraid his had fallen into the second category. After seeing it, students laughed at Ron as he walked by. But he’d also won the election and continued to reign as the big man on campus until graduation, so why would he hold a grudge?
Because he wanted Hannah, and Elias had gotten in his way?
If that were the case, he wasn’t likely to be the source of the vicious rumors over the years. Unless the caricature had led to some real loss of which Elias was unaware.
Elias frowned, remembering that when Daniel brought him to Sweet Ideas after grilling him, Ron Campbell had been there already. Totally focused on Hannah, Elias had only been peripherally aware of anyone else. Now, he wondered what the guy had been doing there. Had he thought he’d catch her at a weak moment, and she’d turn to him?
Suddenly disturbed, he remembered that Fletch had appeared, too, with Jack-Jack. Because he’d happened to spot the puppy, the way he said? Or because he believed Hannah would fall into his arms in gratitude and her need for consolation?
He recognized Castaneda because Cape Trouble had been a smaller town when they were kids, but that was all.
Jeff Lee…wasn’t quite a friend, even though he and Elias had played football together. If they’d had a class together, Elias didn’t remember. Because of the couple years between them, they’d have been unlikely to be going after the same girls.
A distant gurgling pulled him back to the present. Hannah was letting the water out of the tub, which meant she was standing up, stepping out, reaching for a towel. Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Long, curling red hair and pale skin. A face of simple prettiness and an air of serenity despite her feeling compelled to cover her breasts with her hand.
If Venus had had freckles, Botticelli had chosen not to depict them. And Hannah’s curves were more lavish.
Elias resisted the need to bang his head on the table. She could appear any moment.
He was glad to be sitting down when she did, looking shy. A sacky T-shirt over thin cotton pajama pants erased the Venus image. Hannah must have bundled her hair up while she was in the tub, because except for a few damp tendrils on her neck, it wasn’t wet. With her cheeks pink, she looked relaxed enough to diminish some of the stress he’d been seeing for days.
“I think I’ll go to bed now. If that’s okay.” Her head turned. “I need the phones.”
“Of course it’s okay.” Elias stood. “If you’d rather I keep them with me…” Seeing her resistance, he unplugged them – charge complete – and handed them to her. “I’ll leave my bedroom door open. If you need me…”
This nod really was shy, although he wasn’t sure why since they’d slept in the same house the past two nights, too. “Okay,” she agreed. “Goodnight.”
He followed not much later, pausing to switch on the bathroom light and crack the door open to orient her if she got up later. Then he stopped for a moment outside the guest room. “Goodnight,” he murmured, in case she’d already fallen asleep.
But her voice came to him from the dark room, and it didn’t sound sleepy. “I wish we’d brought Jack-Jack.”
He had to think about that. “Do you let him sleep with you?”
“I tried the ‘no dog on the bed’ rule, but gave up. He…” Her voice hitched. “Usually he sleeps with Ian.”
But if he’d been here, he would have cuddled up to her instead.
Elias gripped her doorframe. He might be sorry about this, but he had to offer. “Hannah, would you like to sleep with me?”
“What?”
Was that shock? “For comfort,” he said quietly. “On both sides.”
The wait was long enough, he almost said goodnight again. But he heard a stirring of bedcovers.
“If you mean it?”
“You know I do.” He suspected touch had been all that sustained her these past two days. Out of practice, he would have expected to offer it reluctantly, for her sake only. Instead…instead, he’d hated the times there wasn’t some physical contact.
“Okay. Should I bring a pillow?”
Smiling, he said, “No. Just yourself.” And the still-silent phones, of course, he added, smile fading.
*****
Hannah didn’t know why she wasn’t embarrassed to be begging to sleep with the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Except…when she looked at him now, she saw more than the surface. She saw him in all his complexity. Lonely, guarded, uncomfortable around most people. Sexy, but tender, patient, intensely protective. He listened without judgement. And he’d told her things she doubted he had ever shared with anyone before. Whatever came of their relationship, right now, he was her best friend in the world.
Something, she realized only now, Grady had never been.
Elias didn’t turn on the light in his bedroom. He led her to the bed and held back the covers, gently tucking them back around her before leaving her. She heard a drawer open and close, and then a light came on in the attached bathroom. Water ran, the toilet flushed, and Elias turned off the light before he opened the door. Despite the faint illumination from the hall, she didn’t see him crossing the bedroom, only felt the mattress compress as he climbed in on the other side.
He’d invited her to sleep with him…but would he want to cuddle? She lay on her back, not wanting to presume.
“Hey,” he said in a low, husky voice. “C’mere.” His hand linked with hers and he tugged. Once she was close enough, he gathered her into his arms, settled her head on his shoulder, and rubbed her back. “That’s better.”
“Yes.” She splayed her hand on his chest, discovering with faint shock that it was bare. He wouldn’t have come to bed naked, would he? To find out, she shifted her leg enough to find soft cloth with her toes. Flannel. Pajama bottoms, probably worn just for her.
Feeling the tug low in her belly disconcerted her. She couldn’t possibly… Not now. But the smooth, sleek, hard flesh beneath her hand tempted her to explore, just a little. When she did, subtly, as if simply readjusting her position, muscles flexed and she found the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.
Suddenly her eyes burned.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss to her head. “Sleep.”
Hannah closed her eyes and concentrated on his heartbeat. Strong, steady. It felt as if her own heart was beating in coordination now, as if his rhythm was contagious.
Was Jack-Jack sleeping with Edna tonight? Hannah wondered drowsily. Perhaps, when this was all over, Edna would like a sweet, elderly dog of her own. Jack-Jack wouldn’t need her anymore, because he’d have Ian. Of course he would.
Faith.
Drifting, Hannah quit having thoughts that made any sense. Not that she’d be able to sleep…
She came awake with a startled jerk. Phone? But the quiet was unbroken. She lay still, unable for a moment to remember where she was. Faint light coming from the hall. Steady heartbeat. She was wrapped up in warm, hard male. In fact…she had all but climbed on top of him.
So long since she’d slept with a man, and never like this. It felt better than she had even imagined – not only safe, but intimate. She wasn’t alone.
She also became aware one of Elias’s big hands had found its way inside her pajama bottoms and cupped her b
utt. Had he done that when awake, or in his sleep?
Even though she was sure she hadn’t stirred, his fingers flexed. And that felt even better. If she squirmed, his fingers might slip lower, into the dampness between her legs. She stifled a tiny sound that would have been a moan.
But then she realized a hard ridge pressed against her side. Unable to help herself, she arched, just a little.
“Hannah?” His voice sounded gravelly, either with sleep or arousal.
“I want…” She rubbed her cheek on his chest, feeling the nub of his nipple. “I need…” Him. She needed to feel as close to him as possible. So connected, she wouldn’t be alone with the terror pressing at her.
He began kneading her buttock as he tugged her upward, plunging fingers into her tangle of hair to bring her mouth down to his. They kissed, hungry and deep, even as she swung her leg over his hips to straddle him. She wanted desperately to feel him pressed there, where it felt best.
Elias pulled his mouth from hers long enough to strip her T-shirt over her head. And then he filled both hands with her breasts.
“I’ve wanted, for so long— Let me—” He reared up and his mouth replaced one of his hands. The rhythmic pull had her hips rocking. With a growl, he flipped her.
He peeled her flannel pj bottoms off, and his a second later. Now he nuzzled, kissed, explored, from her breasts down over her belly until his tongue stroked between her folds and she began to whimper. All his intensity was concentrated on her. All she could do was squeeze his powerful shoulders, curl her fingers in his hair, and lose herself in sensation laid atop sensation.
Her body wound tight, she felt him move upward until he pressed against her.
“Wait,” he said in a strangled voice, and leaned across her.
Almost crying, she tried to pull him back. “What are you—?” Oh. A tearing sound, a pause, and he was back, only this time he didn’t stop. He pushed forward, the fit tight, even startling, but so good a first spasm wracked her. When he paused, buried as deep as he could go, Hannah was struck by a sense of wonder. Yes. This was what she’d needed. She had never in her life felt so close to anyone. Part of him.
And when he moved, so did she, digging her heels into the bed to rise to meet every thrust, grabbing him, making incoherent sounds of pleasure and frustration and—
He reached down and spread her thighs wider, driving deeper, harder. Hannah came undone, suspended in pleasure even as Elias went rigid, groaning words she didn’t understand. It was perfect.
Even more perfect was the tenderness in his hands as he held her afterwards, the velvet-roughness of his voice as he told her how much he’d wanted her, how beautiful she was to him, how glad he was she’d come to him.
So happy…until she felt as if she’d hit an unexpected speed-bump, the kind that jolted your spine and had you biting your tongue. The kind that churned your stomach.
I forgot Ian.
Hannah tensed. How could she have done that? Her heartbeat had begun to slow, but now it hammered again. Ian. He was so scared, and Mommy had taken the chance to have sex. To wallow in pleasure, when Ian was what mattered.
“You’re thinking about Ian.” Elias’s voice was still grumbly-soft, but also…resigned.
“How could we?” She began inching away.
“There wasn’t anything we could be doing for him.”
Logic infuriated her. “I can’t be happy! Not when he’s…when he’s…” She couldn’t finish.
Elias’s arms loosened, but didn’t release her entirely.
“Making love was an extension of holding each other. You needed to forget, if only for a few minutes.”
“Forget?” Hannah echoed in outrage. “I can’t forget. Not for a second. How could I?” She began to shake.
“Nothing we did hurt Ian.” Elias’s voice stayed calm and gentle. “He knows you’re doing everything you can, that you will never give up until you have him back.”
“I know you’re right,” she said stiffly. Of course he was. That didn’t keep the acid of guilt from eating at the lining of her stomach or her chest from feeling impossibly tight.
Worst of all was feeling the tingling relaxation of the rest of her body, still rejoicing in the pleasure she and Elias had had together.
*****
Crap.
Hannah’s head still rested on his shoulder, but her arms were curled against her body in self-defense, separating them, and distress kept her rigid. Elias had thought he was giving her what she needed – okay, and giving himself what he needed, too – but he’d screwed up. Big time. He wanted to be angry at her because she had asked, but the anger turned on him.
When she woke up, he should have soothed her. Kissed her, maybe, massaged her until her muscles melted like wax. What he shouldn’t have done was act on the arousal both felt in an unguarded moment. He’d known better.
The last thing Hannah needed to live with was the memory of what they’d done while her little boy was frightened and in danger. The idea that she might not be able to forgive herself or him formed a hard knot of pain in Elias’s chest. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Ian’s freckled face, his grin. Heard him talking about ‘hunchback’ whales and giggling.
She could have gone back to the guest room and hadn’t. Elias took what comfort he could from that and kept holding her, breathing in the scent of sweet oranges that came from her hair, as he waited for dawn.
He did doze. The ringing of a phone felt like a cattle prod. He shot to a sitting position.
“Which one—?”
“Yours.” Hannah sounded as panicky as he felt.
He fumbled for it on the bedside table. Despite the crack across the screen, he saw the caller’s name. “Daniel?”
Not even blinking, Hannah waited, bedclothes clutched over her breasts.
“An envelope was left for Hannah on the doorstep of Ian’s daycare. I want to tear into it, but she should be here. Can we meet at her house?”
“Okay.” Elias had to clear the sleep from his voice. “Give us half an hour.”
After explaining to Hannah, he said, “I can take a two minute shower, and I’d like to shave. If you want to shower, too…”
She shook her head quickly. “I had the bath. I’ll just get dressed.”
He glanced at the clock. “Coffee should be ready. Go pour yourself a cup, and try to eat something. There are cinnamon-raisin bagels in the freezer. Toast one for yourself.”
Not a good liar, she said she would. She was already scrambling into her clothes before he pulled clean jeans from a drawer and started into the bathroom.
Bending his head to let the hot water pound on his neck, Elias tried to get himself together. He wouldn’t let Hannah pull back. She needed him too much.
Envelope. He should have asked how big. After the elaborate precautions for the drop yesterday, the kidnapper wouldn’t deliver instructions that way. So what could be in it?
Elias took one incredulous look at himself in the mirror before he concentrated on shaving. The flesh seemed to have fallen away, leaving his face gaunt. Even so, he looked better than Hannah. He had to get her to eat.
The house was completely quiet. He followed the aroma of coffee and the light in the kitchen…but found the room empty. Where…?
The air all left his lungs. Oh, no. He hadn’t even thought last night.
Back to him, she stood in front of the river-rock fireplace that climbed to the vaulted ceiling of his living room. A rough chunk of wood formed a mantel, above which hung the painting he’d once considered his finest work. The painting he hadn’t glanced at in months, and should have taken down.
Although he didn’t think he’d made a sound, Hannah turned to look at him over her shoulder. Pain layered atop pain in her brown eyes. Her freckles stood out against pallid skin. Her toasty warmth – the beach fire he had imagined – had been doused with cold water.
“Who is she?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Elias’s gaze wen
t past her to the magnificent oil painting of a beautiful woman and his jaw tightened. “Michelle Thomsen.”
Hannah had guessed the moment she saw it. Not wanting to see the expression on Elias’s face, she turned back to the painting of a delicate, sensuous woman. Against the ocean behind her, her hair glimmered gold. He’d seen something in her, an uncertainty and worry Hannah recognized. The sand dollar in her slender hand seemed to represent a perfection, a hope, she knew was too fragile to last.
This was more than a portrait. Every brushstroke held passion. “You really were in love with her,” Hannah murmured.
He had moved to stand beside her, allowing her to see his flinch.
“I was,” he said after a moment. “In the way of a boy. I’d never touched her, didn’t really know her. I only imagined I did.”
“Has Sophie seen this?”
The lines carving his lean cheeks deepened. “Yes.” He hesitated. “After she did, I meant to take down the painting. I…thought I’d give it to her, maybe as a wedding present.”
Sophie’s wedding had come and gone. “You couldn’t let it go,” Hannah said softly.
“No, it wasn’t that.” Elias frowned at his own work. “Michelle was a symbol of my…resignation, for lack of a better word. I’d become comfortable.”
“You accepted what you couldn’t have.” How had he even brought himself to use the word ‘beautiful’ last night? Hannah had always known her own face was pleasant but plain. This moment, she felt homely, fat, hopeless.
“Not the way you think.” Elias scowled at her.
I asked to sleep with him. I climbed all over him. I begged him to make love to me. Her fault.
She backed away. “I need to go. I’d rather you didn’t come with me.”
Frustration flared in his eyes. “This damn painting has nothing to do with—”
Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4) Page 17