Heiress Under Fire

by Morey, Jennifer

  “Would the two of you like something to drink?”

  Farren turned with Elam to see Shay behind the white-topped bar. The couple who’d been sitting on the black stools were gone, but the other still sat at the table, leaning close and absorbed in conversation.

  Elam released her and she walked to one of the bar stools, too curious not to take him up on his invitation. What had changed his mind? Why did he now want to talk to them?

  She sat on a stool. The hem of her dress exposed her thigh almost to her underwear. She saw Elam notice and her heart skipped a few beats. He stopped beside her, not taking a stool. His gaze devoured her leg for what seemed like minutes but was probably more like a few seconds, then it roved up her body until he reached her eyes.

  “Club soda for me,” Farren said, turning to Shay.

  “Nothing for me,” Elam said.

  Shay’s smile turned sage as he prepared the drink. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two knew each other before now.” He slid the glass of club soda over to Farren.

  “How do you know we didn’t know each other before now?” Elam asked.

  “I just know.”

  “We met in Bodrum,” Farren said.

  “By coincidence?”

  “Something like that.”

  He studied her, speculating. “It’s interesting that you both chose Bodrum to vacation and just happened to be there at the same time.” He moved his gaze to Elam. “You, an expert marksman who doesn’t share his resume, and an electrical engineer from a reclusive island in Maine who’s just inherited millions.”

  He’d done a lot of checking since their first meeting. Was he debating whether or not to talk to them? Would answering his questions help? She looked at Elam.

  “I could hardly believe it myself,” he quipped.

  Shay didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. He turned to Farren again. “However you met, it’s good you did.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. “What makes you say that?”

  “You don’t strike me as someone who has much experience with nefarious characters.”

  She couldn’t help glancing at Elam, whose hint of a grin told her enough.

  “It’s both incredible and curious that your mother left you her fortune. When did she abandon you?”

  The unexpected way he asked sharpened her awareness. “When I was four. Why?”

  “She never contacted you after that?”

  “No.” Why was he asking?

  His brow creased above his nose. “Did you ever try to locate her?”

  She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to indulge his curiosity. Maybe it would lead to information that could help them. “I asked my foster parents about her, but they didn’t know anything. So of course, I didn’t find her. She didn’t want me to find her.”

  “I can’t imagine how a mother could abandon her child.”

  She didn’t comment. There was nothing to say. Nothing would change what already was and she didn’t understand it, either. But she wondered about the emotion she thought she heard in his voice.

  “How old are you now?” he asked.

  Why did he ask such a question? She began to feel tense. “Thirty-one.”

  “Did she ever send you anything? Christmas or birthday presents?”

  “No. I had no contact with her whatsoever.”

  He hesitated. “When is your birthday?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your birthday. When is it?”

  He wanted to know the date? “June fourteenth.”

  She watched him calculate the years and months, keeping his gaze steady. A chill raced down her spine and arms. Why was her birthday important? Another chill raced through her. Did he wonder if he was her father?

  “How did you know my mother?” she demanded. His questions were too focused not to have a purpose. How many times as a child had she dreamed of her real father driving up and whisking her away from her loveless life? Only this wasn’t the way she’d dreamed it. This felt wrong. Off.

  Someone came up the stairs before he answered. Maybe he never intended to answer. Shay’s wife stepped up to the sundeck and smiled when she saw her husband. But Farren could tell it was staged. She was watching him. As if she didn’t trust him.

  “You’re always sneaking away from me,” she said, moving to the bar. “Maybe you should introduce me to your new friends.”

  “Elam, Farren, my wife, Pauline.”

  “Is there something specific you came to talk to my husband about?”

  “No. We heard he was here and wanted to say hello,” Elam said.

  Farren watched the congressman, who hid his relief.

  “If you’ll excuse us.” Shay headed for the stairs. His wife hesitated, eyeing Elam and Farren before she followed.

  Crossing her legs, Farren looked up at Elam. “That was interesting.”

  “Which, his wanting to know your birthday or the way his wife keeps track of him?” His eyes lifted from looking at her crossed legs.

  She uncrossed her legs and got off the bar stool. She was so confused right now. The feeling that the congressman had asked about her birthday for a reason disturbed her. That reason awakened an old, deep longing she hadn’t thought still occupied the hidden recesses of her heart. Elam’s constant presence and heated attention only added to her disarray.

  “We can probably go now,” she said. “He isn’t going to talk to us any more tonight.” Not wanting him to notice how frazzled she was, she turned and started down the stairs.

  Elam caught up to her in the hall leading to the salon. “Hey.” He grasped her hand and stopped her. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head and was on the verge of tears. This was an absurd time to cry. Why cry? What was there to cry about? Shay?

  Elam held her chin in his hand, keeping her from lowering her head like she wanted. Moisture stung her eyes.

  “If he had an affair with her…”

  “If he did it happened recently,” Elam said.

  Recently. Yes. Who had affairs that lasted thirty-one years? “What if they got back together after…” She couldn’t finish.

  “He only asked when your birthday was. He was curious about Carolyn leaving her daughter.”

  “Yeah.” She felt like she was hyperventilating.

  He moved his hand alongside her neck, his thumbs brushing her jaw. “It’s okay. Breathe slower.”

  She focused on his eyes and tried to do what he said. It didn’t work.

  “Okay?” he said in a raspy voice.

  The sound worked better than anything. He grounded her. How did he do that? She started to catch her breath, only to lose it again as she drowned in his eyes.

  He stepped toward her. In the narrow hall it didn’t take much to crowd her against the wall. He angled his head and kissed her. She opened her mouth and took him in.

  Voices carried from the salon, but the hall curved and hid them from view. Only people on their way to the sundeck would pass this way, and since the sun was no longer shining, most everyone was either in the salon and dining area or on the aft deck. But all that drifted out of her consciousness as he moved his mouth with hers. Her pulse took flight along with her escalating desire. If he was doing this to distract her, it was working.

  He moved his hand down her body. He sizzled a path around her bare thigh, sending tongues of flame shooting up her leg. She lifted her knee to his hip and struggled to catch her breath as his hand ran up the length of her thigh and slid around to the bare skin her thong didn’t cover. She could feel his erection against her.

  He kissed her harder. Sensation consumed her. Yes. She needed this. Him. Let it take her away from the implications of Shay’s curiosity. He could take her somewhere beautiful. She immersed herself in him and what he made her feel. Let them take her. These feelings he strummed to life.

  Parting his jacket, she slid her hands over him, over the straps of his gun holster. It made her hotter. She leaned to kiss his neck. Ran h
er tongue over his skin. She wanted him so much. Needed him.

  She dragged her hand down over his hard chest and stomach, her fingers catching on the straps of his gun holster. When she found the silky material of his trousers, she curled her fingers around his hard length. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, the fantasy of him sliding inside her too powerful.

  He hissed a curse, dampening her skin with his tongue as he blazed a trail down her neck. She used both hands to unfasten his trousers. All he’d have to do is move her underwear out of the way.

  A low growl rumbled inside him, a strangled sound.

  “Do me,” she said. “Now.”

  “Farren.” He slid his hand off her bare rear and took hold of hers.

  She lowered her leg from its perch on his hip and let her forehead rest against his chin. “Don’t stop.” But she knew he had to. They were in a bad place for this, and she was still reeling from the revelations that had come from their conversation with Shay.

  She didn’t want to think about all the years she’d spent dreaming of a real father she’d never met. Congressman Shay had come out of nowhere. He’d blindsided her. She hadn’t seen this coming. But she couldn’t escape it. Not here, anyway.

  “I don’t have any condoms,” Elam said.

  Leaning against the opposite wall, he stared at her. He didn’t have any condoms, but she wanted to take him back to Rapture and let him make love to her. And she knew that’s what would happen. If she let him. She wanted to.

  What was she thinking?

  Pushing off the wall, she hurried into the salon. She meant to go straight to the door, but Shay stood next to his wife, talking to another man close to his age. He saw her and she stopped, unable to keep herself from staring. His age made it hard to see any signs of resemblance. She couldn’t believe she was even making the assessment. But then she noticed the way he looked at her Was it regret she saw in his eyes? Worry? What could he be worried about? Exposure?

  Elam hooked her arm with his and steered her to the door. She was grateful to him for helping her. Her mind was such a mass of churning confusion she didn’t know what to do with it.

  Outside on the dock, she kept her arm linked with Elam’s as they walked. All the way back to Rapture, she ran and reran in her mind how it could be possible. How it couldn’t. She didn’t want it to be possible. Not someone like Shay, someone who could be connected to the threats she’d been getting. What did he know? And if she was his daughter, how long had he known? Would he let Imaad kill her to protect his secrets? His own daughter? Was she his daughter? It all made her sick.

  She left Elam’s support as they approached the yacht. Stepping aboard, she didn’t stop until she was in her cabin.

  “He just asked about your birthday,” Elam said.

  And she realized he’d followed her in here. The door was closed.

  “Shouldn’t you be briefing your team?” she asked.

  “That can wait until morning.” He loosened his tie and then shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the arm of the chair by the bed. She hugged her arms at the sight of him in black suit pants and a white dress shirt with the black straps of his gun holster over his shoulders.

  “Just because he asked about your birthday doesn’t mean he’s your father.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “And even if he had an affair with her back then and resumed it now, it still doesn’t mean he’s your father.”

  “Don’t.” She put her hands to her ears and turned her back. She didn’t want to hope, only to have that hope crushed in the end. Besides, if Congressman Shay was her father, he hadn’t wanted her any more than her mother had.

  Elam’s hands slid around her sides and he wrapped her in his arms. She lowered hers, putting her hands over his, startled that he’d come so close.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and she knew he didn’t mean just for talking about it. He was sorry that what they may have discovered upset her.

  Staying close, she turned, putting her hands on his chest and looking up at his face. He made her feel so good. His arms looped comfortably around her. He watched her warily, as if trying to gauge where this was headed. She rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She wasn’t going to fight it anymore.

  He didn’t move. A shiver of pleasure rushed through her senses. She pressed another kiss to his warm, soft lips, opening her eyes to see his shadowed and full of growing lust.

  She put her mouth on his once again, this time staying there, moving her lips, adjusting, then taking him deeper. He gave her his tongue and he took over the kiss. She let him have her. His unsteady breath ran through her like a strand of music. She folded her arms over his shoulders to bring herself against him as close as she could be. The hard angles of his gun and holster dug into her skin. His hands moved over her back. One stopped midway down her back, the other lower. He tightened his hold, stealing her breath.

  Then he eased away, lifting his mouth out of her reach and sliding his hands to her waist. She lowered from her toes and looked up at him.

  “We can’t do this,” he said.

  And her spirits deflated. He was shutting her out again. Last time he blamed three glasses of wine. What would it be now?

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t have any protection.” He moved away, going toward the chair.

  That was the only reason?

  He sat on the chair and removed his shoes, keeping his eyes trained on her. She walked toward him. Alertness intensified the hunger in his eyes. He dropped his socks and leaned back in the chair, barefoot, tie askew, still wearing his holster.

  God, why did that turn her on so much? She was feeling reckless enough not to care. And she was tired of waiting for things to go her way. It was time to start taking what she wanted. And right now, she wanted him.

  Hiking up the jagged hem of her dress, she straddled him. He put his hands on her waist, his thumbs firm on her abdomen. Running her hands up his chest, she leaned over his mouth.

  “I don’t want you to use a condom,” she whispered, and reveled in the way his eyes flinched ever so slightly with responding heat. “I want to feel you naked inside me.”

  She put her mouth on his, then moved along his jaw, breathing in the smell of man, listening to his barely audible curse. She smiled and kissed his throat. She ran her tongue over his skin until she reached his ear. “What are you going to do about that?” she whispered some more.

  But she didn’t wait for an answer. She tugged at his tie until it came undone, moving back to pull it from around his neck, watching his face as she did it. His jaw flexed. His eyes fired with tenuous control over his passion. She tossed the tie over her shoulder.

  Reaching for his collar, she unbuttoned it and kept going down the front of his shirt. When she arrived at his pants, she stopped to spread her hands on his bare skin. She felt his muscles jerk with tension.

  “Oh,” she sighed long and languorous. It felt better than she ever imagined.

  She felt her way from his abdomen to his chest, thumbing his nipples and leaning forward to kiss him. He kissed her back, and that was all the initiating she had to do. His fingers removed the clip holding her hair up. Bobby pins fell to the floor as he ran his fingers through the strands. She pulled the tiny straps off her shoulders, kept drawing them down until she freed her arms and the front of the dress slumped. He joined her effort and tugged the dress down, exposing her breasts. Holding them in his hands, he leaned forward and took what he could of one in his mouth.

  She put her hands over the round balls of his biceps and watched him move to the other breast. The sensation became unbearable. She needed more. Dipping her head, she kissed his temple. He lifted his head and gave her his mouth. While he kissed her, he unfastened his trousers, breaking away from her mouth to shove them down his legs.

  Rising up onto her knees to accommodate, she pulled the hem of her dress up, her long blond hair falling in front of one of her e
yes. She tossed her hair out of the way and inched back over him on her knees.

  “Are you on the Pill?”

  She guided him with her hand. The tip of him entered. “No.”

  He stiffened underneath her, but she let her weight fall and felt him impale her all the way.

  “Farren,” he gritted from between his teeth.

  She moved her hips. “I want this.”

  He swore.

  Taking his face between her hands, sensing his cooling passion, she kissed him. “I want this,” she said again.

  His eyes linked with hers in a long and meaningful, telling moment. He was almost as gone as her. Almost.

  She rose up on her knees, making him slide out until only the tip of him remained inside. Then she came back down, bringing her mouth and tongue to his while sweet, sweet friction changed strands of music to a roar in her head.

  “Mmm…” He took hold of her hips in a mindless grip and began pumping his hips.

  She put her hands on his shoulders for better leverage. His hands on her hips felt erotic. She was beginning to love his hands. His artful moves kept the roar going strong inside her, until it consumed her. Her pulse throbbed in her temples. Feeling engulfed her. It mushroomed into something she could no longer comprehend. Maybe she never had. What she felt for him. Elam. His essence entwined with hers. Her release came, relentless and tearing, leaving her trembling and weak.

  She collapsed against him, feeling and hearing his own climax die on a guttural moan.

  He didn’t move at first. Just held her while their breathing evened.

  She hoped he wasn’t going to start talking now. He didn’t. Just pulled her higher onto his hips and held her as he stood. She wrapped her legs around him until he brought her to the bed, where he planted her to sit. He stepped back and finished removing his clothes, putting the gun and holster on the chair. She lifted the dress off her, only then realizing that her strappy black shoes had fallen off sometime during their lovemaking.

  Crawling under the covers, she watched him walk naked to the other side and get in beside her. She lay on her back, uncertain what he was thinking.