Illegal Motion: A Loveswept Classic Romance
Page 13
Eric wandered over to the tightly packed bookshelves that framed the stone fireplace, running his hands over the dusty spines. “Yes. As a matter of fact I want to propose a business deal to you. Actually, I’d like to propose a lot more, but I don’t have time to play your little games.”
Despite her uneasiness he’d piqued her curiosity. The slightly manic look in Eric’s eyes was making it difficult for her to concentrate. I can’t do this alone. Nick, where are you?
Taking a discreet breath to steady her voice, she said, “No games, Eric. I’m always open to increasing my income. So what is this all about?”
Nick paced back and forth across his living-room floor, having abandoned any attempt at sleep hours before. His cool cotton sheets, scented with Willa’s fragrance, had driven him crazy the moment he’d crawled between them.
Why had she pushed him away? he’d asked himself for the millionth time since he’d left her office. He’d gone over it again and again, reliving every nuance of their brief parting kiss. But her instant response had given him little if any insight into her reasons for backing off so abruptly.
He did know one thing for certain—the longer he left her alone, the thicker her protective layer would grow.
He snatched up the phone, then slammed it back down. Dammit, she’d locked herself away in her castle for too long and he’d be damned if he’d let her rebuild defenses he thought they’d very effectively destroyed that afternoon. After grabbing his keys and cane, he headed for his sedan.
As he sped along the highway he felt a sudden sense of panic. Something terrible would happen if he didn’t get to Willa immediately. He didn’t pause to question the feeling, automatically jamming his foot down harder on the pedal.
The wave of anxiety that had him gripping the wheel blotted out the stab of pain shooting through his knee as he raced the car down the rutted lane to Willa’s house. He slowed as he caught sight of her little red car, wondering why she’d parked so far back from her front door.
He shut off the engine and pulled himself out of the car, sighing in relief that the lights were on in the front room. Well, at least she can’t sleep either. He stood a moment, telling himself his panic attack must have been an acute case of nerves. He lifted his cane out of the car, trying out several opening lines as he headed to the house. “Son of a—” A menacing scowl darkened his features as he noticed the Porsche parked in the shadows of the house. Miller!
To his shame, his first thought was that Willa was really in cahoots with Miller, a very feasible explanation for her earlier behavior and one Nick—unconsciously?—hadn’t allowed himself to consider. But the shame died quickly, replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. He crept closer to the house until he had a clear view of Willa and Eric cuddled on the couch.
With no real plan other than getting Miller’s paws off his woman, he stormed up to the front porch. His woman. “Damn straight,” he muttered under his breath, then paused an inch shy of yanking the door off its hinges.
She was his woman. And he was her man.
She was the woman he had chosen to trust with his heart, one he knew told the truth when she said she’d never willingly hurt him.
Which meant— A sliver of dread climbed his spine. How could he have been that stupid … even if only for a moment? Slowly he inched over to the edge of the porch, carefully peeking in the window. They were still talking, sitting close.…
Eric was smiling and all but drooling over her, and Willa sat next to him, her brittle smile and tightly pressed knees an indication that her coolness was no more than a front.
He couldn’t risk Willa’s safety by barging in like the cavalry. He had to come up with a plan. Backing away from the front window and off the porch, he stumbled over some loose rocks.
Using his cane for balance, he reached down and felt along the rocks, swearing silently when the moon picked that moment to hide behind the clouds. He groped under several stones before his fingers contacted the small piece of cold metal. Her key. He moved as quickly as he could around the large rambling farmhouse to the entrance to Willa’s kitchen. Once inside, he moved to the doorway leading to the hall. Wasting no time once he’d assured himself his entrance had gone undetected, he picked up the phone and stepped into the pantry. Sky answered after two rings.
“Hey, sorry to wake you, buddy, but it’s show time,” he whispered, quickly going on to explain the situation. By the time he hung up, the adrenaline was pumping through him faster than it had on Super Bowl Sunday. One way or another, it was all coming out tonight.
He crept down the hall so he could hear their conversation, wishing he could let Willa know he was there to help her, praying that she could hold her own until the time was right for him to take over.
Eric shifted a bit closer to Willa, his thigh almost brushing hers, his smile daring her to draw away. She pressed her shoulders down, making a conscious effort to relax, and hid her trembling hands between clenched knees. She wished Eric would get to the point. His rantings about his unfair treatment by the coaching staff had started to turn into raving paranoia that was as frightening as it was boring.
“I’m a Super Bowl-winning quarterback, Willa. And they think they can just shove me aside because of a minor shoulder injury. Well—”
Willa broke in, determined to reason with him. “Have they actually said they were going to replace you?”
He looked at her in that condescending manner she loathed. “Willa, trust me. I’m a pro, and I know what I hear. But I’ve got it covered. I don’t need the NFL and their big contracts. You and I are going into business.”
Willa’s jaw dropped, then quickly snapped shut. “What business?”
“Dealing. To a very exclusive clientele, of course. The ones with money to spend. All professional sports have their overachievers who need the type of relaxation I intend to supply. And with your new athletic program bringing in the cream of the crop, we’ll be raking it in, in no time.” He reached out and ran a hand over her knee, still smiling. “Don’t look so shocked. I know you were a little naive when we dated, but you’ve changed, Willa.” He leaned closer as he spoke, the unnatural brightness in his eyes impossible to ignore. “Once you’ve tasted the rewards, you’ll agree.”
Willa was reeling. This was not the man she dated only a year ago. It couldn’t be—it was too frightening to think she could have been so blind. She believed now that he’d been taking drugs back then, but this … this was the talk of a crazy man. “You’re an addict, aren’t you?” she blurted out. It all started to make a gut-twisting kind of sense. “It’s not the shoulder injury that’s hurting your performance, it’s the cocaine. Eric, it’s only a matter of time before people find out.”
Her words had no effect. His smile never faltered. Just sitting near him made her suddenly feel unclean … then another thought hit her. She shot off the couch before he could grab her. “You failed the drug test, and set up Nick Logan to take the fall.” Her accusation only served to deepen his condescending smile, and Willa lost control. Storming over to him, wanting nothing more than to claw that damn smirk off his face, she demanded, “Why Nick Logan, Eric? And why did you go so far as to have him arrested? Wasn’t switching the test results and getting him banned enough for you? What could he possibly have done to deserve that?”
Eric snaked out a hand and yanked her back on the couch. “You really are a little fool. Don’t you think I knew they would test the whole team again if I didn’t make it believable that Nick Logan, our own ‘Mr. Clean,’ was a cokehead? Why are you so concerned, anyway? He’s only an offensive tackle, Willa, and they’re a dime a dozen. I’m the top quarterback in the league!”
Nick shook with barely controlled rage at Eric’s callous words. Blood pounded through his veins with such force he couldn’t hear himself think. He darted a look around the corner as Eric shoved Willa’s arm down and stood up. He would pay for that first, Nick decided, fists clenched, ready for battle. Unless Sky brought the entire force with
him, Miller was not going to leave this house without a few serious medical problems.
This had gone on long enough. Nick refused to subject Willa to more. To hell with clearing his name. If the authorities didn’t believe his word about Miller, then to hell with them too. He stepped to the doorway, but Willa’s voice, cold as steel, stopped him in his tracks.
“You egotistical bastard!” Shaking with fury, she demanded, “How could you ruin a man’s life just to save your own miserable neck?”
Eric stopped his pacing and turned on Willa. “You think I don’t know what has you so upset? You and Logan are thick as thieves. Did you think I actually bought all that ‘let’s be friends and talk about the past’ crap? Well, Miss High-and-Mighty, you’re pretty damned righteous considering you helped me frame him.” He stalked over to her, and even as angry as she was, Willa’s eyes widened and she sank down onto the chair behind her. “Yes, you! Those were some pretty powerful vitamins you delivered to Doc for me. Came in real handy when I decided to plant them on Nick.”
His smile was demonic. “What about Doc? How did you get to him?”
“He was real eager to help me. Thanks for the intro, by the way, I couldn’t have done it without him. He thinks the world of you, you know—but he also had some rather large outstanding debts to a few nasty characters that he was more than willing to let me pay off in exchange for switching test results.”
Willa sank further into the chair. Nick had been right all along. Eric and Doc had both betrayed her. She couldn’t trust anyone, not even herself. A fresh wave of anger surged through her, intensifying as she thought how Nick’s life had been forfeited to another man’s desperation.
“I think that if you want to save your skin—your very pretty skin—you’ll reconsider my earlier offer.” Eric reached out and touched her cheek, the contact startling Willa out of her trancelike state of fury.
Jerking away, she asked. “Tell me, Eric, why Nick?”
“Yes,” boomed a very deep voice from the doorway. “Why don’t you answer the lady.”
Both Willa and Eric jumped at the sound of Nick’s voice.
“Nick! What are you doing here? Thank Go—”
“Logan,” Eric interrupted. He pulled Willa up by her arm, which he kept in a viselike grip. “I should have known you’d show up. You’re just in time to join the party. I was explaining to Willa how helpful she can be in our new business endeavor.”
Willa struggled against him. “Let me go!” Eric tightened his grip painfully, his smile never faltering. This is all wrong, she thought feverishly. Why isn’t Eric nervous? Nick’s expression was implacable. Could he believe she was in league with Eric? Redoubling her struggle, she tugged frantically on her arm. “Nick, it’s not what you—”
“Let her go, Miller.” There was no mistaking the cold menace in Nick’s tone, yet Eric didn’t relax his grip.
“I think you’ve lost again, Logan. Your lady here is going to help me with my new career. As a matter of fact, I’m willing to bet she’ll be begging to help me.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Miller. Now let her go—or this time when they arrest me, I’ll be guilty as hell and the charges will be a whole lot more serious than dealing dope.”
Eric’s eyes gleamed brighter and Willa swore she heard a snarling sound from Nick. Whether sensing a close brush with death or merely changing tactics, Eric dropped her arm.
“Fine, have it your way.” Eric moved casually to the other side of the room. A small contented smile played across his face as he glanced at the bookshelves.
“From now on I intend to.” Nick pulled Willa to his side and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You never did answer the lady. Why me? Surely you had a better reason than my supposedly expendable talents?”
Eric laughed and turned to face them. “Actually, Logan, I guess you could say you were born to the wrong parents.”
“What in the hell do they have to do with this?”
“Nothing.” He chuckled as if vastly amused by his private joke. “You see, I didn’t care who it was. I picked the next guy on the list that tested clean. Logan comes right before Miller, so by virtue of your last name, you won.”
Willa tore out of Nick’s grasp and stormed across the room. Jabbing a finger in Eric’s chest, she said, “You mean to tell me that you wasted a man’s career and his life because he was the most convenient alphabetically?”
In a soft voice filled with menace, Nick said, “Willa, come back here. I appreciate your defense, but I want to handle this.” Willa grudgingly seated herself on the couch, out of harm’s way, and Nick turned to Miller. “You smug, arrogant son of a bitch. What in the hell were you going to do the next year? Doc’s retired. Willa’s onto your game. How is a dopehead like you going to pass the next test? Assuming they don’t drop you first.”
Eric smiled as if Nick was a little slow on the uptake. “That’s just it, Logan. There won’t be a next time. I don’t need the NFL or those backstabbing coaches. So I like to snort a little to help me relax, it doesn’t make me an addict. Besides, that’s not why I’m retiring.”
“Retiring?” Willa and Nick spoke as one.
“Surprised? You shouldn’t be. When are you going to realize that I’m one step ahead of all of you? I figure the networks can’t wait to offer me a nice cushy commentary job. Between that and my little sideline with Willa, I’ll be set. I’ll go out on top. Why risk this pretty face for another season of being a tackling dummy?”
“You’re more messed up than I thought if you still think I’m going into any business with you—legal or not.”
Eric seemed very pleased by her outburst. Chuckling, he turned back to the bookshelf, pulling out one of the less dusty volumes. A small white packet slid neatly into his palm. He dangled it between his fingers like a hypnotizing pendant. “This is why, my dear. I doubt the manager of one of the country’s finest training facilities is going to risk having the media find out about her sizable drug habit.”
Willa was mute with surprise. Eric turned his condescending grin on Nick. “And as far as relating this evening’s discussions to the media, I wouldn’t advise it. It will be your word against mine, and we all know how much your word is worth these days.” He walked over to the table, dropping the packet on it before sitting on the couch and patting the place next to him as he had earlier. “Now be a good girl, Willa, and tell Mr. Logan to leave. We have business to discuss.”
Nick glanced away from the window, apparently the only one to notice the trail of headlights parading down Willa’s drive. He returned Eric’s smile, looking every bit as confident. “I guess we’ll find out who believes what real soon.”
Willa swung her gaze back and forth between the two men. Her head was still spinning from Eric’s threats and she couldn’t comprehend why they were both strutting around like playground braggarts instead of beating the living hell out of each other. Then she remembered.
Leaping up, she quickly ran across the room, grabbing her purse off the table, frantically digging in it to no avail until she forced herself to calm down. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she finally located the cool metal recorder. Please God, let it be working.
It was! She shouted in delight and swung around to tell Nick when the front door burst open and Sky strolled in followed by the largest black man Willa had ever seen. It wasn’t until the giant moved into the room that she noticed there were several policemen behind him.
In a deep rumbling bass the giant said, “Hello, folks, I’m Detective Frank Boxleitner.” He flipped open his wallet. “DEA. And these gentlemen”—he gestured to the men behind him—“are from the sheriff’s department.”
Before the detective could continue, Eric leaped off the couch and moved to his side. “Hello, sir,” he gushed, reaching to shake his hand. “Thank God you’ve come.” He swung an accusing finger at Nick and Willa. “These two people have brought me here under false pretenses. This is Nick Logan and Willa Trask. They were
trying to sell me drugs.” He ran to the table and scooped up the packet, almost flinging it at the large man. “See? I’m sure you remember Mr. Logan from his recent drug trial. Well, I’m sure glad you arrived when you did.”
Willa was trying to figure out why Nick wasn’t heatedly denying Eric’s story when he strolled to the mantel and lifted the old clock, peeling a packet off the bottom. Eric’s face went deathly pale.
“Box, nice to see you again. Here.” Nick tossed the packet to him. “I think if you’ll taste this, you’ll find that the only thing Miss Trask has stashed is sugar.”
Eric snatched the bag out of the air, his face contorted in anger as he realized he’d been had. Willa dazedly tried to put everything that had happened into some kind of order. Clenching her hands in frustration, she remembered the recorder. She gave it to the large detective. “Detective, I think if you’ll listen to this, it’ll explain everything.”
Willa turned to Nick with a triumphant smile, fully expecting he’d drag her back into his arms and reward her with kisses of approval and admiration. Instead she encountered a sudden fierceness, then in the next second he was launching himself at her. It was only because she ducked instinctively that Eric’s desperate lunge for her came up short. A split second later he was smashed to the floor with a loud thump as Nick hit the target of his flying tackle.
The police had been a little slow to respond to the sudden burst of action, but now they hurried to pull Nick off Eric, only releasing him when he promised to calm down.
He immediately hobbled over to Willa, cupping her cheek. “You okay? I couldn’t warn you, but you have great instincts, you know. Must be in the genes.” He pressed a hard kiss on her lips, so relieved she was okay that he misread her stiff posture as shock over nearly being tackled. He thought about kicking everyone out and taking her upstairs, but Sky tapped his shoulder and he reluctantly lifted his head.