Grace Under Fire

by Beverly Barton

  For a moment she didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond. What he'd told her was certainly a surprise; she'd never expected to hear that Jed's family had worked for the syndicate. No wonder he knew so much about Booth Fortier.

  "You aren't your family," she told him. "You aren't responsible for what they did. You didn't choose that type of life. You chose to be different. You're a good man, Jed." She walked over to him, lifted her hand and caressed his cheek. "You have nothing to be ashamed of—nothing!"

  He shoved her hand aside, then narrowed his gaze and focused on her eyes. "I knew Jaron Vaden, the man who was dumped outside your front gate."

  Grace gasped.

  "We were friends as teenagers."

  "How terrible it must have been for you to see him tonight. Murdered."

  "Stop being so damn understanding!"

  She stared at him, totally puzzled by his attitude. "If you're trying to make me dislike you—"

  "You should, you know. You should hate my guts."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm not a nice man, not a good man. And I've kept things from you. More things than you can imagine." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I am the worst man on earth for you, but God help me, I want you so bad I ache with the wanting."

  "Oh, Jed … I—I—"

  "Get away from me." He released her. "And stay away from me."

  "What if I don't want to … what if I can't?" Hearing herself say it made her realize it was true. She wanted Jed … the way he wanted her. The passion between them didn't make sense and they both knew it was crazy, knew they were all wrong for each other. And how was it that she could have such powerful feelings for a man she'd met only a few days ago?

  "Damn it, Grace, you don't know me at all. I'm absolutely nothing like your rich, brilliant husband. I'm just a good old boy, without a college degree, who has a shady family history. All my edges are rough. I'm a crude, ornery ex-soldier who knows a hell of a lot more about danger and death than I do about living and loving."

  He sounded as if he was warning her off, but her heart recognized his admission for what it was—a plea for her to want him despite all the reasons she shouldn't.

  "I loved Dean Beaumont and thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. I know I'll never find another man like him." She sensed Jed's discomfort and noticed him wince at the mention of her husband. "I'm not saying I've fallen in love with you…" She smiled. "In lust maybe." He reacted with a halfway smile. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't expect you to be like Dean. I don't want you to be a replacement for Dean. I want you, Jed. I want you just the way you are."

  He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms so fast he took her breath away. With his cheek pressed firmly against hers, he held her close and whispered hoarsely, "No past, no future. Just the here and now."

  "Yes, just the here and now." She stood on tiptoe so that their mouths were perfectly aligned. She understood that for this moment in time, they had no yesterdays and no tomorrows. They were simply two people wanting and needing each other.

  He kissed her. A million butterflies danced wildly in her stomach. He deepened the kiss. Skyrockets burst inside her head. His big hands cupped and lifted her buttocks, then yanked her up against him so that she could feel his arousal. Her nipples peaked; her femininity moistened. A maddening ache throbbed between her legs.

  He kissed her again and again and again. Her mouth, her face, her neck. She ran her hands over his hard pectoral muscles, loving the feel of him. He tore off her robe and tossed it aside, then ripped the buttons from her silk pajama top as he jerked it off her. She unzipped his jeans, which he shrugged off and onto the floor, then she helped him remove her pajama bottoms. And all the while they kept kissing and touching. When they were both naked, Jed swung her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He flung her on the rumpled bedspread, then came down over her. They kissed wildly, passionately, as they tossed about on the bed. His lips were everywhere, tasting her skin from mouth to toes. Her hands grasped and plucked and explored. He pinched her nipples, then laved them with his tongue. While he tested her readiness, she circled his sex with her fingers and stroked him.

  "I want you inside me," she told him. "I want you now."

  He eased off her and got up. She reached for him.

  "I'll be right back," he assured her. "The pack of condoms is in my shave kit." The pack of condoms Dom Shea picked up for him earlier today.

  While he disappeared into the bathroom, she scooted the bedspread, blanket and sheet to the foot of the bed, then rested her head on one of the two huge goose down pillows. She stretched like a cat basking in the sun. Every fiber of her being was ready and waiting … and wanting. Jed had awakened her sleeping sensuality, making her feel brazen and sexy. And for one crazy moment, she wished Jed would make love to her without protection. Just for that one moment she wanted something she thought she'd never want again—to get pregnant. Pregnant with Jed's baby.

  * * *

  "Are you out of your mind calling me at this ungodly hour?" Oliver Neville yelled into the telephone.

  "Too bad I woke you," he said. "But I was awakened by several phone calls myself. It seems that there was a news bulletin on our local Sheffield Media, Inc. owned station about a body being dumped in front of Belle Foret tonight. I've had four phone calls from Sheffield Media employees, all worried about Grace."

  "You shouldn't have your phone number listed in the book," Oliver said.

  "You promised me that nothing would happen to Grace. You swore to me that she'd be safe."

  "No one has harmed a hair on Ms. Beaumont's head, have they?"

  "Not yet, but—"

  "Then stop worrying. And stop calling me."

  "Swear to me that Fortier isn't planning to hurt Grace. If he hurts her, I'll—"

  "You'll do what? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not if you want to stay out of trouble."

  "I should never have agreed to help you four years ago, when Fortier sent you to make me an offer. You swore to me then that Grace wouldn't be hurt, that Fortier wanted to kill only Dean and Byram."

  "We had no idea Ms. Beaumont was in the car that night. Even you didn't know."

  "Tell Fortier that if he hurts Grace, I'll go to the police and confess everything. Do you hear me?"

  "Yes, I hear you, you fool. Talk like that will get you killed. Is Grace Beaumont's life worth more to you than your own?"

  He gasped. "Oh, God! Oh, God! He does plan to kill Grace, doesn't he?"

  "Calm down. Booth will do whatever he has to do to stop Ms. Beaumont. If you can't persuade her to let matters drop, then I can't be held responsible for what Booth does."

  "If I'd known how things would turn out, I'd never have helped you," he mumbled. "She wasn't supposed to get hurt. I thought she'd turn to me for comfort, but she didn't."

  "Well, from what I hear, she's found all the comfort she needs from her bodyguard," Oliver said.

  "That's a damn lie! Grace would never stoop that low. The man is an uncouth lout."

  "Maybe her taste in men has changed."

  "Shut your damn mouth."

  "Pull yourself together," Oliver advised. "If you keep acting like this, yours will be the next body dumped on Grace Beaumont's doorstep."

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Grace lay in bed, shamelessly naked, waiting eagerly for Jed. The steady, uninterrupted rhythm of her daily existence had blown up in her face when she'd received the letter from Jaron Vaden. Now, the man was dead. Brutally murdered and deposited at her front gate as a warning. Her life was out of control and she was reeling from the aftershocks. For four years she had clung to the memory of her husband, loving him, grieving for him, needing him every day. She had been empty inside for such a long time, the loss of her family leaving her adrift, emotionally unconnected to anything other than anguish. She had clung to Sheffield Media, Inc. as if it were her only lifeline. Indeed, it had been her one reason
for living.

  But everything had changed when Jed Tyree walked off the plane from Atlanta a few days ago. Had it really been less than week since his arrival? Odd that it seemed she'd known him for years. Laverna would say the feeling came from the fact that Grace and Jed had known each other in another life and were simply reconnecting in this one. Although a devout Christian all her life, Laverna dabbled in the supernatural, a trait not uncommon for many Louisiana natives whose roots went generations deep in bayou soil. Grace wasn't a believer in reincarnation, yet she couldn't truthfully say she was a disbeliever. She did know one thing for sure—Jed Tyree was no stranger to her heart.

  When Jed emerged from the bathroom, his fist closed tightly over a couple of square packets, Grace suddenly felt shy, but she forced herself not to reach for the sheet to cover herself.

  "Lady, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he told her as he stopped in the middle of the bedroom and stared at her.

  "You look pretty darn good yourself."

  Oh, yes, pretty dam good, indeed. Drop-dead gorgeous might better describe the naked man standing before her. Tall, muscular, not an ounce of fat on his hard, lean torso. The type of man a woman dreamed of having for a lover.

  "Like what you see?" he asked, a cocky grin curving his lips.

  She stared directly at his rock-solid erection. "I like what I see very much."

  "I'm thinking this time should be fast, to give us both some much-needed relief," Jed said as he walked over and laid one of the condom packets on the nightstand. "And then later, we'll take it slow and easy … and make it last." He ripped open the packet in his hand.

  Flushed with excitement, Grace watched as he sheathed his sex. Her femininity tightened and released, throbbing, sending sexual longing through her whole body. What was it about Jed that made her want him all the time? She was aching so much she didn't think she could stand it another minute. Getting up on her knees, she crawled to the edge of the bed and reached out for him. She grasped his hands and tried to drag him into bed with her.

  "Eager, aren't you, Blondie?" His voice was husky, exuding a mixture of amusement and desire.

  "Didn't you say we'd do it fast this time?" She yanked on his hands. "Let's see some action, big boy." Her gaze settled on his impressive erection.

  Jed grinned. "You want action?"

  He reversed roles by grabbing her and flipping her around so that her back faced him.

  When she yelped in surprise, he slid her to the edge of the bed and pressed his sex against her buttocks. His arms went around her waist, clenching her tightly. As she rested back against him, letting her body melt into his, he kissed her neck. One hand slid down her belly and covered her mound. She rubbed against him, slowly, sensuously. He groaned. She sighed. When he nudged her thighs apart, she cooperated fully, giving him full access. Two fingers glided inside her moist feminine lips and across her sensitive nub. She whimpered when he eased his fingers inside her and brought his thumb down to caress her intimately. She rode his hand, undulating against the friction as he petted her.

  While she lay back against him, one of his hands worked magic between her legs and the other rose to her left breast, cupped it, lifted it, then stroked the tight, tender nipple. She cried out when hot, clawing sensation shot from her breast to her core, then rippled along her nerve endings. She was on the verge of climaxing. So close she could do nothing to prolong the pleasure. Giving her simultaneous attention above and below her waist, Jed bit her neck with tender passion. And Grace unraveled, coming apart like a tightly wound ball of yarn. She whimpered as Jed manipulated her body so that those orgasmic sensations continued … on and on, until finally he'd drained every ounce of sexual tension from her body.

  Or so she thought…

  Suddenly, Jed dragged her backward so her knees rested on the edge of the bed. Before she realized his intent, he positioned himself to align his body to hers, then he took her from behind, ramming himself to the hilt inside her wet, welcoming depths. When he jackhammered into her, she clutched the bedspread and braced herself for the onslaught. His big hands held her hips, keeping her in place. Unbelievably, her body responded, awakening anew to a hunger she had thought already appeased.

  With one hand on Grace's hip, holding her steady as he thrust in and out, Jed slipped his other hand between her thighs. He increased the speed of his lunges and his fingers stroked repeatedly until she heard him groan and knew he had reached his limit. His release came quickly, wildly, and the last few thrusts jolted her with the force of a body slam. But what she felt—all she felt—was fulfillment claiming her once again. Within seconds after Jed came, she did, too. A second time.

  He toppled her into bed, the two of them still joined, his sex still hard and hot between her legs. He nuzzled her neck.

  "I'd like to stay this way until we fall asleep," he whispered hoarsely. "But…" He pulled out of her, got up, then leaned over to kiss her before he headed for the bathroom.

  Grace felt lost without him. She wanted him back in her arms, back in her body. Now.

  In the sweet, dark hours of predawn, it was easy to believe that nothing and no one existed outside this room. The whole world had shrunk to encompass this sixteen-by-sixteen bedroom, this big oak bed and the man who had given her unparalleled pleasure.

  Gone only a couple of minutes, Jed came out of the bathroom carrying a damp washcloth. When he sat on the bed, he spread her legs apart and cleaned her, then planted a kiss just below her navel. Before she could say thank you, he left her again. But within seconds he reemerged from the bathroom.

  "You're not leaving to go back to your room, are you?"he asked as he stood by the bed.

  "Not unless you want me to." Her heartbeat hummed inside her head.

  Jed lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her temple and said, "What I want is you to stay right here, as close to me as you can get."

  "That's what I want, too."

  She cuddled against him, feeling more alive in her sated, drowsy state than she'd ever felt in her entire life. And in that moment she knew—she couldn't deny it any longer, at least not to herself. She was in love with Jed Tyree. Head over heels, madly, passionately in love.

  * * *

  Jim Kelly sat alone in his room in the Fortier house gazing out the window at the dawn sky. He couldn't sleep, couldn't even rest. He'd wanted to do more to help Charmaine Fortier after the sheriff had informed them of her brother's death. But he couldn't go to her, couldn't stay with her without arousing suspicion.

  He had been part of the Louisiana Mafia for nearly two years, his credentials forged, his identity falsified. He'd been able to stay in contact with the Bureau without any problems, up until six months ago when he'd been assigned to Booth Fortier's inner circle of bodyguards. A real stroke of luck, but with definite drawbacks. With his movements restricted, his every waking hour spent with others, he had little or no opportunity to even make a phone call or mail a letter. He was determined to do nothing to jeopardize his position, because when the time came, his firsthand knowledge of Fortier and the syndicate he ruled would prove invaluable. He'd managed to make a few phone calls when he was away from the house, but he'd been tied to his bodyguard duties twenty-four-seven for months now. All he could do was wait for the Bureau to come to him. And he knew they would. Moran would send in an agent—whether Federal or independent—to make contact. They'd have to let him know when they were ready to strike, ready to bring Fortier and his crime empire down.

  But lately things here had gotten really complicated. Ever since he'd moved into Fortier's private residence, he had suspected that Booth abused his wife. Now he knew it for sure. The most recent beating had left Charmaine horribly battered. Jim wondered how her brother had been able to stand by all these years and watch Booth use her like a punching bag. Then again maybe he did understand, After all, what had he done to help her? But he couldn't help her—not yet. He didn't dare do anything to jeopardize his undercover work
. More than his life or Charmaine's depended on the success of his mission, He couldn't take the chance Jaron Vaden had taken—taken and lost. But when the operation came to a close, when Fortier was arrested, Jim intended to make sure Charmaine was protected.

  * * *

  Jed kissed Grace's shoulder, then ran his tongue up her neck to her ear. She roused from sleep and moaned softly. His open palm skimmed over her belly, past her navel and covered her mound. She turned and draped her arm across his chest, pressing her body to his side.

  "What time is it?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

  "Almost daylight." He lifted himself over her just enough to kiss her lips.

  Her eyelids flew open instantly. He was nose-to-nose with her, smiling seductively.

  "Did you wake me for a reason?" she asked, humor in her voice.

  He bent his head over and caught one peaked nipple in his mouth. He nipped, then sucked, and followed up by laving it with his tongue. While her hips arched, he moved to the other breast, then lifted his head and said, "Why waste time sleeping when we can be making love?"

  She flung her arm around his neck and brought his mouth back down to hers. "My sentiments exactly." She kissed him.

  They were as wild for each other this time as the first time. No slow loving. No lingering foreplay. But Grace didn't care. They tossed and tumbled on the bed, touching and tasting, hungry for sex. Jed donned another condom and took the dominant position. He grasped her hips, lifting her to meet his first deep, powerful thrust. He filled her completely—her body, her mind, her heart,

  * * *

  Jed showered and dressed. All the while, Grace slept. As he eased his Beretta into its holster, he turned toward the bed and looked at her. He was about as hung up on her as a guy could be. And as much as he'd like to tell himself that it was just the great sex, he knew better. Yeah, the sex was incredible, but that was only part of it. He cared about Grace in a way he'd never cared about another woman. He wanted to please her, make her happy. And he wanted her to be proud of him, needed her to think well of him,