Erotic Deception

by Karen Cote'

  Lily didn’t heed the threat. “What detective skills?” she challenged.

  Steel blue eyes flashed with purpose. Lily swallowed, but didn’t back away until his menacing height towered in front of her. Too late, she retreated only to find herself stopped by the refrigerator. He placed a hand on each side of her head and leaned in mere inches from touching her.

  “You win, Dr. Delaney.” There was slow distinction on her last name. “I don’t have a clue on what you saw here today and whether it was real or Sylvester the Cat harassing that little Tweety Bird. But here’s what I do know.” He leaned in closer. “You wrecked my car and had the gall to blame someone else, including me, for the accident. Because of you, I’m delaying a report that should’ve been filed a week ago. Today, I received your distress call and when I make haste to get here, you throw yourself at me and nearly knock me over. Then you have the audacity to insult me once again over my law enforcement abilities. Now all this might conclude I’m not your BFF but at the very least, it entitles me to call you by your first name, don’t you think?”

  Speechless at the onslaught, Lily gaped at him. His rampage had brought him close enough that his duty-belt was pressing against her stomach. She moistened her lips at the proximity and the action dropped his gaze to her mouth. The impact leveraged the rapid pulsations in her chest, rendering all her vital organs motionless. Time remained suspended for several heart-halting moments.

  Then a blue flash of resentment glittered between his thick dark lashes before he pushed away with a muffled epithet. In suppressed violence, he crossed the room. He stopped in the doorway, but didn’t turn.

  “I’m on patrol until midnight,” he said and paused as if to add something else. He must have changed his mind, however, after a brusque, “Lock your doors,” he strode out of the room. Moments later, the tortured rev of the engine followed by angry tires on gravel signaled his departure. Lily slid to the floor, air breaking from her lungs.

  If she’d leaned forward the littlest bit, he would’ve kissed her. She knew it as sure as she was sitting right here. The tension between them had been palpable and although that hadn’t been his gun, he hadn’t been happy to see her. To the contrary, he thought she was nuts.

  Am I? It would explain a lot of things; this bizarre emotional pull to him for one, and their magnetic attraction, for another. But that man had been put together in so many right places, he would pull in any woman.

  What about this other thing? This cloud of protective aura she experienced around him. It could be a result of the accident followed by the subsequent encounter with those two weirdoes at the convenience store. Then there was that stupid calculator with its spooky connotations. This last part proved her first suspicions. I’m losing it.

  Her ex-husband would laugh aloud at the mere hint of Ms. Independence seeking a guardian angel.

  Finding no humor in the situation herself, Lily rose but not without glancing warily out the window. She locked the doors and spent the evening curled up in the sitting room chaise lounge, pondering between the threat of someone stalking her or a certain blazer circling her home.

  After an uneventful evening, hunger pangs growled in neglect. She needed food.

  She went to the kitchen pantry and selected the peanut butter she’d bought earlier in the week. Grabbing the bread and a spoon, she scooped out a dollop of peanut butter and paused, brows furrowing. Crunchy Peanut Butter? She thought she’d bought Creamy. She glanced at the front of the jar and sure enough, Crunchy sprawled across the label in big block letters. She scowled in distaste. She obviously picked up the wrong jar by mistake. Placing it back in the cupboard, she decided a bologna sandwich sounded just fine and ignored the mocking vision of a Looney-Tune yellow bird in a cage.

  Chapter Five

  Before going home, Jet drove around the old house one last time to verify no intruders were lurking. Not that he expected to find any, but it added detail to the report he’d need when he slapped a straitjacket on the woman inside. His conscience tugged at the unfair thought, but damn it, why of all places had she ended up in his town?

  He braked and opened the door. Using the flashlight, he made a perusal of the area and checked the small room again. Empty. He shone the light down the back of the house and found nothing out of the ordinary. He returned to his vehicle and headed toward the other side of town.

  He dropped off the blazer at the station, picked up his newer red pick-up, before heading home. He groaned when he pulled into his driveway. Celeste was back.

  Jet leaned his head against the steering wheel. Didn’t she realize every time he saw her it emasculated him all over again?

  No, Celeste wouldn’t think beyond what she wanted. Her showing up like this was his doing. If he hadn’t comforted her at her father’s funeral, she’d have moved back to the city by now. Only someone with Celeste’s conceit would attribute his actions as something more than gratitude to a man who’d been a father-figure to him. Celeste had taken it as a sign that he’d forgiven her. Hell, maybe he had, but he could never forget. Her deception had been too complete for that.

  When he keyed open the front door, he found Celeste making herself at home on the large sectional in the bonus room. Once upon a time, her dark exotic features waiting for him would’ve released a more primitive and animalistic response.

  He calmly crossed the room to the mini bar.

  Celeste turned off the big screen television and rose.

  “Hi. Surprised to see me?” she asked.

  “When did you get back?” he asked, unbuckling his duty-belt and laying it across one of the dark mahogany bar stools.

  “This morning.” Her attention strayed to the bandage on his hand and Jet wondered how much detail Denie had given.

  He poured a drink. “I gave you a key to pick up some stuff, not to show up whenever you felt like it.”

  “Oh.” Her red lips pouted. “I didn’t take what you said to heart,” she said softly.

  “A detrimental error on your part,” he mocked, raising the glass and draining the amber liquid.

  Celeste’s femme fatale act flat-lined. “It just so happens I didn’t need a key to get in.”

  Jet paused from pouring another drink to raise a brow in inquiry.

  Satisfied to have gotten his attention, she said, “The side door to the kitchen was unlocked.”

  Was she messing with him? She had to be. He never left home without securing the locks. He finished pouring his drink.

  “Well?” Celeste prompted.

  He cast a glance her way before raising the glass to his lips. “Guess I’ll have to be more careful,” he said, swallowing half the contents and enjoying the burn chasing down his throat.

  She was silent for a moment and then tossed aside all pretenses.

  “Who’s the new blonde, Jet?”

  Here we go. “What blonde?”

  “Don’t what blonde me. The one who destroyed your car.”

  “It was an accident, Celeste.”

  “Has that been determined? Rumor has it you haven’t filed the report yet. Why not?”

  “Someone’s been busy.” Jet was going to kill Denie.

  “Jet?” she persisted.

  “Obviously you know more about it than I do. How was Kansas City?”

  “Don’t avoid the issue,” she snapped.

  “Then leave it alone.”

  “Why should I? Something bad happened to you. Aren’t I involved in that anymore?” she asked.

  “You know the answer to that,” he responded flatly.

  “As your wife, I still have some rights.”

  “My ex-wife,” he stressed. “And I told you when you moved back here not to try and stir things up between us again.”

  “My father,” her voice cracked before she continued, “would’ve wanted us to get back together.”

  The mention of Sy hit a nerve. “Your father knew what you did Celeste and believe me, if he was alive today, he’d question your sanity on wh
y you moved back here.”

  Her lips firmed. “I might’ve been insane five years ago, but not now. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved or wanted a family with. That jerk didn’t mean squat to me.” She lifted a defensive shoulder. “It was a simple mistake.”

  “Mistake?” Jet let out a harsh laugh. “What you did wasn’t a mistake, Celeste. It was cold, calculated, and anything but simple.”

  “Like you’re a saint!” she spat out.

  “Far from it, but I haven’t stooped to your level.”

  “Really? You thought so much of my father yet you seduced his daughter,” she taunted. “Or didn’t stealing my virginity qualify under your superior standards?”

  Jet’s eyes narrowed. “You were the one who couldn’t wait to give it to me. But once again, unlike you, I had too much of a conscience to take what you offered under his roof.”

  “No Jet, I’ll grant you that. You didn’t screw me in my father’s house. You screwed me at his best friend’s house instead.”

  A tinge of heat rode up Jet’s cheeks. She was right. Denie’s parents had been friends of Sy’s and they’d been out of town that weekend. He wasn’t proud of the sneakiness and being a teenager with raging hormones was no excuse. That he’d refused to have sex with Celeste in her father’s home was splitting hairs.

  Still, when Sy had found out about their relationship, strangely enough, he’d encouraged a more lasting commitment. But it hadn’t worked out that way. Not then, anyway. Celeste would force that issue later.

  “Whatever,” was all he said.

  She bowed her head for a moment, and then raised it with emerald eyes glistening in defeat.

  “Are you telling me I destroyed all your feelings for me?”

  Damn it. After everything she’d done, there shouldn’t be this pull of guilt. But they hadn’t just been married, they’d grown up together.

  He kept his tone as light as the situation would allow. “You know I care about you, Celeste. Just not in the way you want. Now why don’t you tell me about Kansas City? Did they like your paintings?”

  She sniffed, but nodded. “They kept one.”

  “That sounds promising,” he said.

  “I hope so. I’d like to see my work displayed somewhere other than here,” she said bitterly.

  “You’ve gotten a lot of support from your home town, you know,” he reminded quietly.

  “I want more,” she responded in earnest.

  Jet had to smile. Celeste may be unscrupulous, but at least she was predictable. She was a good artist. All she needed was exposure to the right people.

  “Jet,” she appealed and he could’ve kicked himself for the lapse in his demeanor. “You’re not interested in this woman, are you?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked in forced amusement, knowing exactly what she meant. He sat down on the couch and stretched out his long legs, putting his hands behind his head.

  “You know,” she grumbled in irritation. “For some reason you’re trying to help her.”

  He shrugged. “Helping people is my job.”

  “Are you just being sympathetic because she lost her brother?” She flushed at the blatant admission to a discussion with Denie.

  His mouth twitched, but he didn’t beleaguer the point. Denie didn’t know about Lily’s suspicions regarding her brother’s death or anything to do with the District Attorney.

  “Something like that.” He massaged the back of his neck and the action separated the buttons on his shirt. He caught the heat of her gaze and stood up. “I have to be at the office early tomorrow. Do you want me to follow you home?”

  Jet braced himself for an argument, but to his surprise, she acquiesced.

  He didn’t question his good fortune, but later, after stepping out of the shower, he pondered how he was going to keep Celeste at bay. She was deaf to his assertions that things between them were dead.

  He finished drying off and crawled naked into bed. His thoughts drifted over the past week and a more complicated situation and female.

  The incident in Lily’s kitchen today had shaken him on just how strong an impact she had over him.

  This weekend with Rachel should eliminate that problem. They’d do a little fishing, cook over a campfire, and have mind-blowing sex. When he returned, he’d find the attraction for Lily Delaney had been good old-fashioned deprived frustration.

  * * * *

  He was at the office the next morning when Mark strolled in.

  “I thought I was the one coming in early,” Mark commented looking at his watch.

  “I have some things I wanted to finish up before I left for the weekend,” Jet replied. “What’s your excuse?”

  “I’ve been asked to speak at the school for the summer delinquents.” He bobbed his brows up and down.

  Jet shot him a wry look. “I doubt Liza would’ve invited you knowing you had that attitude about her students.”

  “Probably not.” Mark grinned “But my being there does score brownie points with our fine school counselor.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jet asked.

  Mark drew back in fake horror. “Courting is a delicate technique.”

  Jet rolled his eyes. “While I’m gone this weekend, I want you to keep an eye on Lily Delaney’s home.”

  “Is she still having problems?” Mark looked surprised, “I thought things had been pretty quiet.”

  “She called about an intruder yesterday.”

  Mark’s willowy body tensed. “An intruder?”

  Jet shook his head. “I’m not sure it was anyone.”

  Mark tilted his head. “Huh?”

  Jet explained, skirting over the details.

  “She doesn’t appear to be the type to make things up.” Mark’s words were a statement.

  “I don’t know,” Jet said and noted Denie sitting down at her desk. He rose from his chair.

  “Regardless, keep an eye on things over there.”

  “Sure enough, boss.” Mark assured and left.

  Jet perched on the corner of Denie’s desk and she looked up warily.

  “Before you say anything, I did not call her. She called me. And I didn’t tell her about the accident either. She heard it from somewhere else.”

  Jet didn’t press the issue. What’s done was done.

  “I’m going away for the weekend and won’t be back until noon on Monday,” he said. “Do you think you can handle things until then?”

  Expecting an affirmative response, Jet was surprised at the ensuing delay.

  Then she blurted out, “Does Celeste know about your planned lake rendezvous?”

  Shocked silence greeted her question and Denie shifted in discomfort as it lengthened. As Jet struggled to hold onto his temper, he surmised she’d heard him on the phone making the arrangements. Whereas he was tolerant of her loyalty to Celeste, he hated this invasion of privacy. He didn’t know which was worse; her listening in on his phone calls or having the nerve to challenge him on it?

  “I’ll do you a favor and ignore that,” he said at last.

  He rose and returned to his office, still batting down his anger. Living in a small community had definite drawbacks.

  * * * *

  The abrasive attack of the towel in her hair felt good. The cool water from the shower had cleansed Lily’s body. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with her life.

  She grabbed the cotton robe, walked into the bedroom and plopped down on the bed. At least her car was fixed. That meant she could leave Windom Hills any time she wanted.

  There was still the matter of totaling the sheriff’s car to contend with, but she hadn’t seen him since his Tweety Bird comment a week ago. He’d probably be happy to see the back of her. Then he could file his stupid report. It was a moot point now, however, as Lily knew what she had to do. She had to return to Kansas City. Justice for Jerry demanded it.

  No one else was lining up to help convict Anthony so Lily had to tap into h
er only other resource. Fred, her ex-husband and his wealthy influential family. She hated asking him just as much as Fred’s mother was going to hate hearing from her. Nevertheless, Fred would help her. She placed her hand over her hollow womb, out of guilt, if nothing else.

  She’d call tomorrow and wouldn’t …

  All her muscles tensed in alarm. What was that?

  Lily held very still to listen again. It sounded like a board creaking directly below her. She cautiously rose and went over to her purse for her cell phone.

  There it is again.

  But this time it sounded as if it were coming from outside. She’d locked the front entry, but what about the French doors?

  Her bare feet made little noise on the hardwood floor as she tiptoed across the room. Her heart was in her throat as she descended the stairs, this time leaving the light off so no one from outside could view what was going on inside.

  Adrenaline pumped a painful flow of heat to Lily’s temples, sending dizzying squiggly lines to impair her vision. She paused for a second until a cool aftermath cleared her focus. Shaken, she continued her trek toward the kitchen area, her grip on her phone nearly breaking it.

  At the door of the kitchen, peering through the darkness to the deck was impossible. She flipped open the cell phone and flinched at the bright illumination. Thumbing in the emergency number, she put a hand over the connect button, but didn’t push it, yet. Creeping over to the doors, she extended a hand to the dead bolt, turned it and in rapid succession reached for the outside light. She screamed.

  Bugger, bugger, bugger. She hadn’t expected to see anyone! She hurriedly punched the send button on the phone and somehow it flipped out of her hand and slid across the floor.

  O-crap-o-crap-o-crap. She dropped to her knees fumbling for it, throwing fretful glances at the now empty deck.

  Where’d he go? And where’s that damned phone? With her location showcased from the outside light, Lily abandoned her mission for the phone and doggy-crawled to the living room to seek safety behind a big sofa.

  Calm down, Lily. Think rationally!

  He wasn’t inside and he hadn’t tried to break in. The phone had connected before it flew out of her hand but there was no guarantee without actually speaking to anyone they’d know where or if to respond. There was nothing left to do. She had to turn on the kitchen light.