He swallowed hard.
“You signed your soul,” Kate pressed relentlessly.
“I didn’t follow through when it counted.”
“Do you really think she wanted you to damn yourself? To do what this guy obviously wanted you do?” Kate asked. “This guy sounds evil. But if somebody loves you, really loves you, then she’s not going to ask you to sacrifice your life and your principles, and basically ruin your own life, just to save hers.”
Thomas turned, anger almost blinding him. “You didn’t know Elizabeth, so don’t you fucking judge her.”
“You’re right, I didn’t know her,” Kate said, her gentle voice a counterpoint to his furious one. “But I think I’m starting to know you. Would you have asked Elizabeth to do what you did?”
“Of course not!” he said automatically. “I…”
He found the words freezing in his throat.
“You loved her,” Kate said. To her credit, she stayed gentle when she could have just as easily been smug.
The elevator dinged, opening up. Down the hallway, he saw Maggie’s door, replete with police tape. He found himself walking slowly. Kate paced him, probably just as reluctant. He finally pulled the tape aside and used the master key he’d gotten from Ronald to unlock the door.
He pushed it open. Then he couldn’t help it—he stopped short in the doorway.
Kate glanced in around him, then let out a low whistle.
“Wow. That… is a whole lotta tacky.”
Thomas let out a surprised bark of laughter, then immediately felt guilty.
“I shouldn’t say that,” Kate said, remorse and laughter warring in her voice. “Considering. But… wow. Just wow. She’s got a leopard-print couch, zebra-print throw pillows. And I don’t know what animal gave it up for those curtains.”
“I’ve never been in here,” he said, feeling weirdly invasive and repulsed. “The police have already been through it. I… I guess we’re going to have to get rid of this. She didn’t have any family or anything left. I don’t think she was close to anyone else.”
Kate didn’t have the same reticence. She was looking through things. “She liked old movies,” Kate mused, looking through the massive entertainment center. “On VHS, no less. And by old, I mean the sixties and seventies. Why does it not surprise me she liked disco?”
That didn’t surprise Thomas, either. “Elizabeth seemed to have gotten most of the taste in the family,” he said. “Of course, they grew up in foster homes, so there’s that.”
“Her kitchen’s like her desk,” Kate said. “Lots of take-out. I do not know how she managed to consume this much fast food and still stay skinny as a stick. Seriously unfair.”
Thomas didn’t say anything. “Well, she’s not going to gain any more weight now,” he said grimly. His stomach roiled.
Kate wandered into the bedroom… and let out a startled gasp.
“What?” He started to rush over, only to have her put up a hand.
“Um… you probably don’t want to go in there,” she said, laughter tingeing her voice.
“Why not?”
“Remember that screen saver she had on her computer?”
It took him a second. Then he recalled—the stupid shirtless photo. That was one of the last interviews he’d ever done, with good reason. “What, she’s got it framed?”
“Blown up,” Kate said gleefully.
“Jesus.”
“Beyond poster size.”
He covered his face with his hands. “No.”
“And it’s on the ceiling.”
“Okay, that’s it,” he said. “I’m leaving.”
He started to head for the door, then glanced back. “I’ll have Ronald take care of it. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said. “I guess I wanted to think that maybe somebody killed her. So I wouldn’t feel responsible. This was a stupid idea.”
Kate looked at him, her humor disappearing. She patted his arm. He liked that. She often stroked his arm, without thinking, he realized.
He could use some physical contact.
“I’ll talk to the manager,” she said. “And go through Maggie’s computer, too. I’ll make sure that anything that needs handling is taken care of. Okay?”
He nodded, feeling grateful.
“Anything else I can do?” she said, sympathy humming through every word.
“Yeah,” he heard himself say. “You said you want to talk. Wanna come up? I probably shouldn’t drink by myself.”
She paused, and he realized he’d crossed the line yet again. But before he could rescind the offer, she surprised him.
“Sure,” she said. “I could use a drink.”
Chapter Twenty-one
He felt a little self-conscious when he opened the door and let her in. He was grateful Yagi had left, to go do… whatever it was he did when he was assured Thomas was safely ensconced in the Havens. He seriously doubted the guy went out to the movies on his nights off. He also kind of got the feeling that he was probably better off not knowing what Yagi was up to when he wasn’t on the clock.
“So, how was your day?” Thomas asked, with forced cheerfulness.
He happened to be glancing at her when he asked the question, so he saw the stab of pain. Obviously something had happened, something that Maggie’s death had momentarily made her forget about. “It was a bad day,” she said. “Just all around, apparently.”
“C’mon in.” He closed the door behind her. She’d loosened her tie, looking like a businessman after a rough day in the office. He sighed. “You can take off your tie.”
“Huh? Oh. Thanks.” She automatically did. Then, frowning, she took off the weird military jacket, as well. Then she bit her lip and, after a moment’s hesitation, kicked off her shoes. With a grateful sigh, she sank onto the comfortable couch as opposed to the stylish one.
“Want another vodka?”
“Maybe just water,” she said. “Let me work my way up.”
He got her the water, then leaned on the arm of the couch. “You want to tell me what happened?”
She took a deep breath. “The demons left today. They found all the names; their contracts were up.”
“Oh.” She sure did get close to those guys. “I bet you’ll miss them.”
She studied him for a second, gauging his reaction. “Do you know how demons go home?”
“Not specifically, now that you mention it.” He shrugged. “Yagi would probably know.”
“They get killed, Thomas.” The words were soft, lined with horror. “I was standing there with Slim, and Al… Al just…”
She shuddered.
He automatically sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.
She paused for all of a second before she buried her face against his chest and sobbed. It felt like a summer storm, all heat and fury. Then, just like a summer storm, it was over.
“Al stabbed Slim in front of me,” she whispered. “I saw Slim die. And then he was just… gone.”
Thomas held her a little tighter, and she gripped him around the waist like a swimmer in the rapids, hanging on to a tree. He could smell her hair as he leaned his cheek on top of her head.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated “Damn, I’m so sorry.”
He held her like that for a long minute, feeling at a loss—and also strangely comforted. It had been longer than he could remember, that he’d just held a woman, hugging her, giving her some solace. The normalcy, the strange intimacy of the act warmed his chest and helped soothe some of his own raw emotions.
She pulled back, rubbing at her eyes and frowning at the black streaks on her fingertips. “God. I must look like a raccoon.”
“Nah,” he said easily, stroking her cheeks. Her makeup did look smudged, but she just seemed… fragile, he realized. And still beautiful. “It’s been a rough day for both of us.”
She nudged his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Thomas, I’ll s
ay it again—you couldn’t stop her, and you couldn’t control her. It’s not your fault.”
He stared at her for a long minute. Then he hugged her hard, as if he could simply absorb her strength and support through physical contact.
He didn’t cry—after so many years, so much loss, he wouldn’t. But he held on tight, and was gratified when she did the same.
After a long time, he pulled back. She had her eyes closed. “You’re a good woman, Kate O’Hara,” he murmured, echoing what she’d said to him when they’d first met.
“And I still think you’re a good man, Thomas Kestrel,” she whispered, then sent him a wavering, ironic smile. “All evidence to the contrary.”
He was staring at her mouth when she said it. The remnants of the crimson lipstick emphasized the fullness of her lips, and her smile just made the whole thing sweeter.
He knew he was going to kiss her. He’d suspected something would happen when he opened the door, but now, just the sheer relief of having someone there—someone who was caring and supportive and funny and thought he was a good man—made the idea of kissing her less of a choice and more of an inevitability.
He pressed his lips to hers, and she sank into him, like butter into toast. It felt so great, so fucking right, for a second he thought his heart would just explode. He’d never had a kiss like it.
Then something shifted.
He wasn’t sure if it was him or it was her, but the kiss went from relief and release to something a whole lot hotter. It was as if he’d turned on a fireplace, enjoying the comforting blaze… and now he was watching the flames lick across the carpet, take up the curtains, and start to move across the ceiling.
Lord, it’s going to burn. No stopping it. Right now, he didn’t even want to try.
She made a low moan—growl?—deep in her throat. His hands clutched at her hips, and next thing he knew, she was straddling his lap, and her hands were in the hair at the nape of his neck and his fingertips were holding her body tight against his already hard cock. He was kissing her like he wanted to devour her. Hell, he did want to devour her. And she was letting him. When her pelvis ground against him, ever so slightly, he thought he was going to lose his damned mind.
She tore herself away. “This is probably stupid,” she rasped, “but if we’re going to do this…”
“Oh, we’re going to do this,” he heard himself say vehemently.
“Bedroom,” she muttered. “Condom.”
He didn’t even answer, just stood, enjoying her little squeal of surprise as he lifted her easily. He kissed her as he carried her into the bedroom, slamming the door shut with his foot.
He slid her onto the bed, reaching for her buttons at the same time she reached for his. Their hands tangled for a second, and she laughed, a joy-filled sound that made him smile even as his body tightened another notch. When she got his undone, he stripped the thing off impatiently—and smiled broader when he saw the admiration as she studied his chest.
“Oh, my,” she breathed, her green eyes alight.
Then he tugged off her shirt, leaving her in a snowy white lacy bra. She undid her skirt, revealing a white pair of bikini panties and—have mercy—white thigh high stockings. He stripped off his pants in a hurry.
Then he moved against her, smoothing his palms over the bra, the panties. Moving his tongue where his fingers had been, until she was shivering with need. “Now,” she said, more command than suggestion.
He reached for her.
Then, abruptly, he realized he didn’t even know where condoms were in this damned condo.
In a panic, he pulled away, ignoring her startled protest as he started digging through the bedside drawers. “You have got to be kidding me,” he grumbled.
Kate let out a breathless laugh as she apparently put together what he was doing. “Seriously? You don’t know where your condoms are?”
“It doesn’t come up a whole lot,” he said, and she let out another laugh. She then went to the bathroom, and they started scavenging hastily.
“Found one!” she called, then dove—literally, like a linebacker—at him. He went down easily, cradling her against him. The laughter died away as she smoothed it on, her fingertips driving him crazy.
“Kate,” he murmured.
Her smile was bright, eager. “Yes?”
He turned her onto her back, moving between her thighs as he kissed her throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled at him. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she whispered.
He took his time, kissing her with purpose, relishing the feel of her soft, smooth body beneath his. She arched her back, her lips slicking over his, her gasping breaths fanning the fire in his body. He wanted to take her quickly, all at once. And at the same time, he wanted to slow it down, make it last, savor it as if it were the last time.
Hunger won. He nipped at her throat, her collarbone, and positioned himself at her entrance. “You… sure, Kate?” he gasped.
She growled. “Now.” She wrapped her legs around his, her hips rising from the bed to meet him.
Well, he wasn’t one to say no to a lady. He plunged inside, his body shuddering. It had been too long, and she felt too damned good. She gasped, then moaned low with pleasure.
The two of them started moving, a passionate dance. Their bodies strained, matching stroke for stroke. He felt the pressure building and fought to stave it off.
Suddenly, she let out a rippling cry, clawing at his back. “Thomas!” she screamed.
It was more than his body could take. The release ripped through him like a thunderbolt, and he rode the lightning until he almost blacked out.
When he came to, he propped himself up on his elbows, staring at her. She was gasping, but smiled at him from behind one of her red curls.
“Not bad,” she said, between panting breaths.
He grinned back. “For a warm up, anyway,” he said, then kissed her hard.
…
Hours later, Kate giggled at him as they sneaked out from the bedroom into the kitchen. Once he’d determined Yagi wasn’t there, Thomas started pulling out pans, raiding the fridge. In a surprisingly short amount of time, he’d managed to pull together a meal.
“Somehow, I knew you could cook.”
Thomas wiggled his eyebrows, then placed the plate in front of her with a flourish. “Grilled cheese is my specialty, darlin’.”
She attacked the sandwich like a starving shark. Sex with Thomas Kestrel would work up the appetite in any woman, she rationalized as she devoured it. The man was a god in the sack. Now, with sexy bed-head and just a pair of sweats on, he looked good enough to eat, and she was definitely ravenous.
And he wasn’t bad in the kitchen, either. The sandwich was almost as tasty as the man.
Once she finished, she rested her cheek on one hand, watching him make his own snack. It was something like midnight, she guessed.
“This is probably a bad idea, isn’t it?” she mused.
“What, the pear and the bacon?” He shook his head. “Trust me. It’s awesome. Like I said, grilled cheese is my specialty.”
She smirked at him. “No. This.” She gestured to him, then to herself… naked, wearing only one of his scrumptiously sexy shirts. “Sleeping with you is probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, and with my track record of epically bad decisions, that’s saying something.”
“Possibly.” He sounded downright cheerful. “But if I only did the smart thing, I wouldn’t have the money I do now. So maybe it’s one of those long-shot, ‘so dumb, it’s brilliant’ kinda things.”
“I’ll bet.” She bit her lip. Of course, not all his gambles paid off. After all, he’d lost his soul—and put hers in the balance. Still, it was really hard to think about that when she was in the hazy afterglow of some truly righteous sex. “You know, there’s one thing that was bugging me.”
“What’s that?” He flipped his own sandwich onto the plate with the air of much practice, then sat down on the ba
rstool next to her.
“Maggie.”
His expression tightened. “Yeah. She wouldn’t be thrilled about this.”
“Huh? Oh, no. That doesn’t bother me,” Kate said. “You were fair game, buster.”
His grin was sexy, and it made her stomach tighten. Especially when he leaned over and kissed her neck, nibbling at her jaw line.
“Well, the playing field’s open any time you feel like it,” he drawled, and she shivered.
“Seriously. You are ludicrously sexy,” she said, then shook her head, trying to regain her train of thought. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. Maggie’s iPhone.”
“What about it?”
“It wasn’t there.”
He frowned, pulling away from her. “What do you mean?”
“That red iPhone,” Kate said. “She never went anywhere without it. Did she jump with it or what?”
He frowned. “Not that I recall. The police didn’t mention it,” he replied. “But like you said—she was pretty fond of that thing. I wouldn’t have put it past her to jump with it. And if she did, then somebody might have grabbed it.”
“What, off a jumper?” Kate asked, appalled.
“It is Oakland,” he pointed out.
She glowered at him. “You say ‘Oakland’ like it’s Hell. This Condo isn’t exactly in the ’hood,” she muttered.
Still, he had a point. The Vuitton probably went for a couple of grand. You didn’t need to have a huge criminal bent to realize the woman wasn’t going to have a need for a smartphone. But something wasn’t resonating. “From the interactions I’ve had with her, and the way she seemed to feel about anybody ‘beneath’ her… I think she couldn’t stand the idea of some poor person having it just because she jumped. No, there’s something weird there.”
He frowned. “Well, I’ll ask the police. They’re probably going to be questioning me anyway.”
She finished her sandwich, sorry that she’d put that distance between them by bringing up the subject. “Well, thanks for feeding me, and—you know, everything,” she finished lamely, taking her plate to the sink and washing her hands. “I ought to be going. It’s late.” She glanced at the clock. One a.m. They’d already had two rounds of sex—once in the bed, once in the tub.
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