Forbidden

by Tori Carrington

  Leah’s eyes drifted closed and she moaned, her hips involuntarily coming up off the mattress. Her glorious lips were parted and her breath came in ever quickening gasps. He trailed his fingers farther south, into her dripping channel, then slid two inside her silken heat, all the time watching her cheeks flush, her chest heave, her movements grow more and more restless.

  The realization that he hadn’t brought protection hit him like a bright light in the eyes. He had purposely left his condoms in his duffel back at the house so he wouldn’t be tempted to give in to his physical need for her.

  To ask her for it now…

  He’d known when they’d first come together on the back of his bike that she hadn’t been with anyone for a long, long time. Had felt it in her tightness, in her quick race to orgasm. And aside from a single quick, faceless, protected encounter, he hadn’t been with anyone else since leaving her.

  His body quaked at the prospect of feeling Leah’s unadulterated heat surrounding him. Feeling her slick need for him without latex separating them. Her muscles convulsing around his. Allowing his juices to mix with hers. Recognizing the possibility that their union could create another human life.

  Her soft moans told him she was nearing crisis stage. He slowly withdrew his fingers, ignoring her sound of protest. He spread her thighs open to him then positioned himself there. She blinked her eyes open, he’d like to think because she felt the desire for a visual connection with him as much as he did.

  “I have no protection, Leah,” he murmured, bending down to kiss the smooth ridge of her collarbone. “I want to make love to you without it.”

  She swallowed hard, her expression unchanged. Then she nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  The meaning behind that one word sent a foreign sensation skimming through J.T.’s veins along with his intense desire for her. He thought it might have been joy. A happiness, a contentment so profound, that for a moment he wasn’t able to move.

  He felt Leah’s hand on his pulsing erection, her gaze holding his as she purposefully guided him to her.

  J.T.’s entire body shook as he breached her unprotected entrance. Her body hotly welcomed him, her juices like warmed honey pouring over his rigid flesh, her muscles drawing him in. The scent that reached his nose, their scent, not his, not hers, but theirs, without the tinge of latex, further amplified his heightened state. He slowly slid in to the hilt, watching as her eyes briefly fluttered closed.

  The climax that followed rolled through him like distant and rumbling thunder. Leah clung to him, her deep gasp and intense contractions speaking of her own intense reaction.

  Although he’d known it with his heart, the power rocked him now to his soul. He loved this woman. Always had. Always would.

  LEAH HAD NEVER KNOWN a pleasure so complete, so earth-shattering, as she sat under the shade of the oak on the property where J.T. worked, her shorter limbs tangled with his longer ones. Her back flush against his front, his arms holding her firmly to his chest.

  It seemed they hadn’t been more than a few inches apart since last night, rising late this morning to take a long ride on his bike, then ending up back here where they’d leisurely fed each other the light picnic she’d packed.

  “I hope none of your neighbors get curious and come up the drive,” she murmured, rubbing her nose against the side of his neck.

  He smiled into her hair. “My neighbors never get that curious.”

  She knew a moment of sadness. “That must be difficult. Always being alone.”

  J.T.’s hand stilled on her bare back. “You get used to it.”

  She shivered, caused by both the touch of his hand and the coolness of the spring breeze. “I don’t think I could ever get used to that.”

  Long moments passed where neither of them said anything. Leah listened to the fresh blooms on the tree rustle, the chirp of a cardinal jumping from branch to branch above them.

  “I love you, you know that, don’t you?” he murmured, kissing her temple and gathering her close.

  Leah burrowed her face against his arm, feeling as if her smile began somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.

  “Sometimes I think I was born loving you. I just didn’t know it until I met you.”

  Her smile widened, his words giving her heart wings. “I love you, too,” she whispered, surprised to hear the proclamation exit her lips.

  His hold on her tightened.

  “I needed to hear that, Leah.” He kissed her shoulder. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

  She snuggled her bottom against him, feeling him rise to the occasion.

  “And I hope that what I have to say doesn’t change that.”

  J.T.’S HEART POUNDED, so full of joy, so full of grief, as he lay with Leah on the red and black wool blanket she had brought with them.

  He wasn’t sure when he had decided to tell her. He only knew an incredible need to purge himself of the secret he’d kept locked inside for far, far too long.

  “I’m wanted for murder, Leah.”

  He tensed, waiting for her to stiffen, pull away, show some sign that she was not only shocked by the news but repulsed. Her fingers stilled where she had been running them up and down his arm, but he sensed no other physical reaction to his words.

  “But you didn’t do it.”

  A statement, not a question.

  He knew a relief so profound he was dizzy with it. “No.”

  She didn’t move for long moments, then she turned in his arms to face him, her eyes full of pain. For him. “Tell me.”

  J.T. swallowed hard. He’d never shared the secret with anyone, not even his father, although the old man had found out through the local authorities when they’d come knocking on his door.

  “Her name was Felicia Dumont and she was married to someone else….”

  He haltingly told her of a woman he’d known over a decade ago in a small town outside Phoenix, Arizona. A woman who had been closer to his age than her husband’s. A woman who had seduced him with her sadness and her body. A woman who had been the complete opposite of Leah. Which was what he’d thought he needed to help exorcise Leah’s ghost when he’d discovered she’d gotten married.

  A woman who had been killed in the motel room bed where they’d just had sex. A woman whose murder had been pinned on him.

  Leah had remained quiet through his confession, making no comment, showing no emotion other than understanding.

  “The evidence was convincing. My semen had been found on her body. The room had been in my name.” He swallowed hard, remembering returning to the motel room to find the place swarming with cops. He’d ducked into the shadows and had been hiding in them ever since. “I avoided arrest and contacted an attorney who was negotiating the terms of my surrender. But despite his contacts with the nearby Phoenix P.D., Felicia’s husband had more. You see, he was the sheriff of the county where the murder occurred, and also the son of a wealthy ranch owner. Through friends and contacts my attorney uncovered how extensive the evidence against me was and told me that turning myself over would be like walking straight to the execution chamber.”

  Leah’s hair blew in the light breeze. “So you ran.”

  He met her gaze. “So I ran.”

  She laid her head against his chest and squeezed him so hard that for a moment he couldn’t breathe. “What it must have been like for you all these years,” she whispered. “Always having to hide. To run.”

  J.T. closed his eyes, wishing he never had to let her go. She didn’t ask him the details of the gruesome murder. Didn’t request information about his plans. She was concerned about how life had been for him in the years since.

  He smoothed her hair down then placed a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve decided now’s the time I stop running.”

  14

  LEAH TRIED TO ABSORB the importance of what he was telling her, but couldn’t move beyond the panic accumulating in her stomach. “What did you just say?”

  He lift
ed her chin so that he could gaze into her face, then smiled sadly at her. “I said it’s time for me to stop running, Leah.”

  “But…why? Why now?”

  “Because I now know something that’s more important than my freedom, Leah. I now know you love me.”

  Emotion sure and swift crowded her chest, making it difficult to breathe, impossible to talk. “But…” she said, his handsome face becoming a blur through the tears that burned her eyes.

  “Shh. I know who did it, Leah. I just have to find a way to prove it.”

  “What if you can’t prove it? Oh, Josh, I can’t lose you now. Not now that I’ve found you again.”

  He sat up and gathered her into his arms, draping his denim shirt over her naked body to shield her from any possible curious eyes and the cool breeze. “I’ll be done with the house on Monday, Leah. What do I do next? I can’t rent a place—”

  “I’ll rent one for you.”

  “I can’t get a job that requires my social security number—”

  “You’ll keep doing what you’re doing.”

  He smiled at her sadly. “And what are you going to do? Hide with me whenever a police car passes? And what if they catch whiff of my trail and find me here in Toledo? Do I run? Do you run with me?”

  It all loomed so impossibly dark and difficult.

  “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll find a way to make this work.”

  “And what if you can’t? What if they catch up with you before you can prove your innocence?”

  He ran a finger down the length of her cheek, making her realize her skin was damp with tears. “Then you’ll help me, won’t you, Leah?”

  She held him so tightly she cut off the circulation of blood to her arms. “Yes. Yes, I’ll help you.”

  She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  TWO DAYS LATER LEAH FOUGHT to concentrate on her notes, her gaze constantly drawn to the kitchen clock. All her life she’d been surrounded by the law. First as the daughter of a judge. Then as the wife of a prominent defense attorney.

  It seemed ironic, then, that she was in love with someone who was on the other side of it.

  “Phoenix,” she scribbled down. “Felicia Dumont. Husband?”

  Ever since J.T. had shared his secret with her, it seemed as if it now hovered over both of them. Their lovemaking had become more somber, more serious, more intense. And one of the most difficult things she’d ever done was come home last night to meet Sami when Dan brought her back from their weekend together. After her daughter had gone to bed, she and J.T. had spent hours on the phone, sometimes saying nothing, other times everything.

  Then this morning he’d set out to finish up the last of his work on the house, she’d gone to class, and now just after noon, she was sitting at the kitchen island making notes to herself.

  J.T. was convinced that Felicia’s husband was behind the murder of his wife. He figured the older man had discovered his young wife was having an affair and determined to end it one way or another. Only J.T. had no idea it would be by killing Felicia and framing him for her murder.

  But how did you prove that in the face of such overwhelming evidence against J.T.?

  On a fresh page, she wrote down names of possible defense lawyers in the area she might consult with, tapping the pencil against the pad when she realized that they were all friends or associates of Dan. She tore the sheet off and balled it up, smoothing the side of her hand against the paper as she tried to think of what else she might be able to do.

  The name of the attorney in Phoenix. J.T. hadn’t told her it. She wrote that down.

  She picked up the pad to go up to Sami’s room. Her daughter wasn’t due home from school for another two hours, certainly enough time to do some Internet surfing on the girl’s computer without her even knowing it.

  The phone rang as she was passing. She clutched the pad to her chest and picked up the extension.

  “Leah? Oh, God, Leah, Dad’s in the hospital,” her sister’s voice filled her ear. “He’s had a heart attack.”

  LEAH PACED THE FLOOR OUTSIDE of St. Vincent Mercy Medical Center’s emergency ward, Rachel sitting nearby with her arms crossed and her skin paler than Leah had ever seen it. Over an hour had passed since her sister had called her and they still hadn’t heard anything on their father’s condition. All they knew was that he’d been driving back from Columbus and had been life-flighted to the hospital just after noon.

  “Why won’t someone tell us what’s happening?” she murmured, walking over to the nurses’ station for the third time in fifteen minutes and asking for an update. The round, black nurse behind the safety glass shook her head and told her she’d let them know as soon as she heard anything, saying the same thing she had on the prior occasions Leah and Rachel had asked.

  There was a secondary waiting area just off the side of the main lobby where they could have sat, out of the way of the other patients waiting for medical attention, but neither Rachel nor Leah wanted to be away from where they might hear word.

  Leah watched as an older man clutching his left arm was walked through the automatic sliding glass doors by a young woman. An orderly hurried forward with a wheelchair then pushed him through the nearby double-hinged doors.

  “God, I always thought he was indestructible, you know?” Rachel whispered, her gaze on the same man who had just disappeared. She covered her face with her hands. “I knew I should have been making him eat healthier foods for Sunday brunch. All that oil and butter and cream…”

  Leah took the seat next to her and pulled Rachel’s hand into her lap. “Sunday brunch is not to blame for this,” she said with an attempt at a smile. “We’ve both been trying to talk Dad into getting a physical.”

  She felt Rachel’s shudder. “He spent so much time in the hospital, so much time around doctors while Mom was dying, he said that he’d had his fill of both for some time to come.”

  The sisters fell silent. Leah thought about all the family had gone through a year and a half ago with the death of their mother from breast cancer. Of course, they’d had time to prepare then. Had watched as Patricia Dubois had grown thinner and thinner, her cancer unresponsive to any treatment as it slowly ate away at her insides.

  It wasn’t fair that they should be at risk of losing their father so soon after losing their mother. But Leah had long ago come to understand that very little about life was fair.

  Jonathon Dubois was only a shade over fifty-five. Certainly not anywhere near what any of them considered old. But even Leah knew that age had very little to do with heart disease.

  A resident wearing green scrubs came through the swinging doors to the emergency room. Leah and Rachel both got to their feet, Leah’s knees almost refusing to hold her weight.

  “Ms. Dubois?” he said, looking for Rachel, who had been the first of them to arrive.

  “How is he?” Rachel said.

  “We’ve stabilized him and he’s resting calmly right now.”

  Leah was dizzy with relief. “Thank God. Where is he? Can we see him?”

  The young doctor shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. The angiography shows that he’s suffering from major blockages in three arteries. We’ve scheduled him for immediate coronary artery bypass surgery.”

  Rachel sank back to her chair, her hazel eyes wide and unseeing.

  “Five minutes,” Leah begged, searching the man’s eyes. “Just five minutes. That’s all we ask.”

  He looked at her long and hard, then sighed and glanced at his watch. “Okay. Five minutes.”

  The two sisters followed the resident in through the swinging doors. Leah tried not to look at the curtained off cubicles on either side of her, filled with patients with varying illnesses, but failed. In one a tube was being fed down a young boy’s throat. In another, a woman lay on an examining table crying and clutching her stomach.

  At the end of the hall the resident stopped and pointed to the right. Leah went inside and immediately stopped in her tracks.

/>   If she hadn’t been told that the ashen, gray-haired man lying against the sheets was her father, she might never have recognized him. It seemed as if all the color had been drained from his skin, robbing it of elasticity and tone. A breathing tube and oxygen mask were attached as were heart monitors and a slew of machines she couldn’t begin to identity.

  In that one moment Judge Jonathon Dubois looked thirty years older than his age.

  Rachel went to his side first and his eyes drifted open. Leah looked toward the resident who was making a notation on the chart.

  “The attack took a lot out of him and we’ve given him medication,” he explained.

  She swallowed hard and stepped up next to her sister who was softly scolding him.

  “I’ve been after you and after you to start eating healthier,” she was saying, tears bright in her eyes, though a smile softened her words. “But no, you always had to go for that extra serving of hollandaise sauce.”

  Jonathon smiled and tried to remove the oxygen mask.

  “No, leave it on, Daddy,” Leah said. “We can hear you.”

  “I wanted to say that you sound just like your mother, Rachel.”

  “They’re going to operate on you. You understand that, don’t you?” Leah asked.

  His eyes twinkled at her. “I just had a heart attack, I didn’t go stupid, Lee. I’m still in full control of my mental faculties.”

  She suppressed a watery laugh.

  “I’m sorry,” the resident said, appearing in the hall outside the curtained off area. “I’m going to have to ask that you leave now.”

  Leah leaned forward and kissed her father’s cheek, wondering at how cold his skin was. Rachel did the same, swiping at the lipstick they’d both left behind.

  “We’ll see you soon, Daddy,” Leah said quietly, hoping that was the case.